former things that have passed away? Or is it well to fix our gaze
firmly upon the peaceful things that have been and will be once
more?


4


Yes, I believe that it is right and wholesome to do this, because
the most treacherous and cowardly thing we can do is to disbelieve
in life. Those old dreams and visions were true enough, and they
will be true again. They represent the real life to which we must
try to return. We must try to build up the conception afresh, not
feebly to confess that we were all astray. We cannot abolish evil by
confessing ourselves worsted by it; we can only overcome it by
holding fast to our belief in labour and order and peace. It is a
temptation which we must resist, to philosophise too much about war.
Very few minds are large enough and clear enough to hold all the
problems in their grasp. I do not believe for an instant that war
has falsified our vision of peace. We must cling to it more than
ever, we must emphasize it, we must dwell in it. I regard war as I
regard an outbreak of pestilence; the best way to resist it is not
to brood over it, but to practise joy and health. The ancient
plagues which devastated Europe have not been overcome by philosophy,
but by the upspringing desire of men to live cleaner and more
wholesome lives. That instinct is not created by any philosophy or
persuasion; it just arises everywhere and finds its way to the
light.

To brood over the war, to spend our time in disentangling its