could never again have held up our heads among civilised honourable
nations. Thus the very circumstances under which the War came about
formed an appeal to the soul of the nation as embodied in its
legislature; the Government rang true, and the nation, as one man,
endorsed its decision.

And now the discipline has commenced.

Who can be flippant and careless with our coast towns liable to
bombardment, and over a hundred lives already sacrificed in this little
island, which we have always deemed to be the one absolutely secure spot
in the whole world? Five months ago an earthquake in London would have
seemed a far more likely event than the bombardment of Hartlepool,
Scarborough, Whitby, and the dropping of shells on Yarmouth foreshore,
or of bombs at Dover and Southend.

Who can be unconcerned when our ships are liable at any moment, and
apparently in almost any place, to be sent headlong to the bottom of the
sea by torpedoes or mines; possibly sometimes by those very mines we
have been compelled to lay, and which happen to have broken loose?

This is one of the unavoidable hazards of war under modern conditions.
It does not make us ignore the magnificent work of our Fleet, nor
tremble for the ultimate issue.

Who can be giddy and careless with darkened streets, trains, trams, all
telling of the awful possibilities of the new development of aerial
warfare?

Who, even among those not directly touched by anxiety or bereavement,