is mainly the result of certain elementary virtues which we practise
without thinking about them, justice, tolerance, and moderation. These
qualities have, we think and think truly, been often wanting in the
Latin nations, which pride themselves on lucidity of intellect and
logical consistency in obedience to general principles. Recent
philosophy has encouraged these advocates of common sense, who have
long been "pragmatists" without knowing it, to profess their faith
without shame. Intellect has been disparaged and instinct has been
exalted. Intuition is a safer guide than reason, we are told; for
intuition goes straight to the heart of a situation and has already
acted while reason is debating. Much of this new philosophy is a kind
of higher obscurantism; the man in the street applauds Bergson and
William James because he dislikes science and logic, and values will,
courage and sentiment. He used to be fond of repeating that Waterloo
was won on the playing fields of our public schools, until it was
painfully obvious that Colenso and Spion Kop were lost in the same
place. We have muddled through so often that we have come half to
believe in a providence which watches over unintelligent virtue. "Be
good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever," we have said to
Britannia. So we have acquiesced in being the worst educated people
west of the Slav frontier.

I do not wish to dwell on the disadvantages which we have thus
incurred in international competition--our inferiority to Germany in
chemistry, and to almost every continental nation in scientific
agriculture. This lesson we are learning, and are not likely to
forget. It is our spiritual loss which we need to realise more fully.
In the first place, the majority of Englishmen have no thought-out
purpose in life beyond the call of "duty," which is an empty ideal
until we know what our duty is. Confusion of means and ends is