are lawn-tennis and afternoon tea. They are a fussy people, and they
find it difficult to understand the calm of the man who, having nothing
to do, does it. Perhaps they were right, and we were too idle. The
disease was never so serious as they thought it, and now, thanks to
them, we are in a fair way to recovery. The idle classes have turned
their hand to the lathe and the plough. Women are doing a hundred things
that they never did before, and are doing them well. The elasticity and
resourcefulness that the War has developed will not be lost or destroyed
by the coming of peace. Least of all will those qualities be lost if we
should prove unable, in this War, to impose our own terms on Germany.
Then the peace that follows will be a long struggle, and in that
struggle we shall prevail. In the last long peace we were not
suspicious; we felt friendly enough to the Germans, and we gave them
every advantage. They despised us for our friendliness and used the
peace to prepare our downfall. That will never happen again. If we
cannot tame the cunning animal that has assaulted humanity, at least we
can and will tether him. Laws will not be necessary; there are millions
of others besides the seamen of England who will have no dealings with
an unsubdued and unrepentant Germany. What the Germans are not taught by
the War they will have to learn in the more tedious and no less costly
school of peace.

In any case, whether we win through to real peace and real security, or
whether we are thrown back on an armed peace and the duty of unbroken
vigilance, we shall be dependent for our future on the children who are
now learning in the schools or playing in the streets. It is a good
dependence. The children of to-day are better than the children whom I
knew when I was a child. I think they have more intelligence and
sympathy; they certainly have more public spirit. We cannot do too much
for them. The most that we can do is nothing to what they are going to