NEED FOR FRANKNESS

It is idle at this stage to forecast the issue of the present war. Nevertheless we seem at last to have begun to understand that there is but a poor chance of winning it under rulers who are content to wait and see if by some miracle the war will win itself; or if by another miracle our resources of men and material will organise themselves. Since the battle of the Marne many sanguine expectations of a speedy and victorious peace have fallen to the ground. The constant burden of letters from soldiers at the front is that the war—so far as England is concerned—is only just beginning. And yet, in spite of all these disappointments and warnings, the predominant opinion in official circles is still, apparently, as determined as ever to wait and see what the people will stand, although it is transparently clear what they ought to stand, and must stand, if they are to remain a people.

We cannot forecast with certainty the issue of the present war, but hope nevertheless refuses to be bound. There is a false hope and a true one. There may be consolation for certain minds, but there is no safety for the nation, in the simple faith that democracy is in its nature invincible. Democracy is by no means invincible. On the contrary, it fights at a disadvantage, both by reason of its inferiority in central control, and because it shrinks from ruthlessness. Nevertheless we may believe as firmly as those who hold this other opinion that in the end it will conquer. Before this can happen it must find a leader who is worthy of its trust.

Since August 1914 we have learned many things from experience which we previously refused to credit upon any human authority. We are not altogether done with the past; for it contains lessons and warnings—about men as well as things—which it would be wasteful to forget. But our main concern is with the present. And we are also treading very close on the heels of the future, when—as we trust—the resistance of our enemies will be beginning to flag; when the war will be drawing to an end; afterwards through anxious years (how many we cannot guess) when the war has ended, and when the object of our policy will be to keep the peace which has been so dearly bought.

Lord Roberts was right in his forecast of the danger; nor was he less right in his perception of England's military weakness and general unpreparedness for war. But was he also right as to the principle of the remedy which he proposed? And even if he were right as things stood when he uttered his warnings, is his former counsel still right in our present circumstances, and as we look forward into the future? Is it now necessary for us to accept in practice what has always been admitted in the vague region of theory—that an obligation lies upon every citizen, during the vigour of his age, to place his services, and if need be his life, at the disposal of that state under whose shelter he and all those who are most dear to him have lived?

THE PEOPLE WILL NOT FLINCH

There is always danger in treating a free people like children; in humouring them, and coaxing them, and wheedling them with half-truths; in asking for something less than is really needed, from fear that to ask for the whole would alarm them too much; with the foolish hope that when the first demand has been granted it will then be easy enough to make them understand how much more is still necessary to complete the fabric of security; that having deceived them once, it will be all the easier to deceive them again.

As we look back over our country's history we find that it was those men who told the people the whole truth—or what, at least, they themselves honestly believed to be the whole truth—who most often succeeded in carrying their proposals through. In these matters, which touch the very life and soul of the nation, all artifice is out of place. The power of persuasion lies in the truthfulness of the advocate, no less than in the truth of his plea. If the would-be reformer is only half sincere, if from timidity or regard for popular opinion he chooses to tell but half his tale—selecting this, suppressing that, postponing the other to a more propitious season—he loses by his misplaced caution far more than half his strength. When there is a case to be laid before the British People it is folly to do it piecemeal, by astute stages of pleading, and with subtle reservations. If the whole case can be put unflinchingly it is not the People who will flinch. The issue may be left with safety to a tribunal which has never yet failed in its duty, when rulers have had the courage to say where its duty lay.

[[1]] "A war conducted with energy cannot be directed merely against the combatants of the enemy State and the positions they occupy, but it will and must in like manner seek to destroy the total intellectual and material resources of the latter. Humanitarian claims, such as the protection of men and their goods, can only be taken into consideration in so far as the nature and object of the war permit.

"International Law is in no way opposed to the exploitation of the crimes of third parties (assassination, incendiarism, robbery, and the like) to the prejudice of the enemy.... The necessary aim of war gives the belligerent the right and imposes on him the duty, according to circumstances, the duty not to let slip the important, it may be the decisive advantages to be gained by such means."—The German War Book, issued by the Great General Staff.