But the war will change that, is already changing it.

'Tout comprendre c'est tout pardonner'. We have been soaked in the same
common law, literature, and traditions of liberty--or of chaos, as one
likes. Whether we all be of British origin or not, it is the mind that
makes the true patriot; and there is no American so dead as not to feel a
thrill when he first sets foot on British soil. Our school-teachers felt
it when they began to travel some twenty years ago, and the thousands of
our soldiers who pass through on their way to France are feeling it
today, and writing home about it. Our soldiers and sailors are being
cared for and entertained in England just as they would be cared for and
entertained at home. So are their officers. Not long ago one of the
finest town houses in London was donated by the owner for an American
officers' club, the funds were raised by contributions from British
officers, and the club was inaugurated by the King and Queen--and Admiral
Sims. Hospitality and good-will have gone much further than this. Any
one who knows London will understand the sacredness of those private
squares, surrounded by proprietary residences, where every tree and every
blade of grass has been jealously guarded from intrusion for a century or
more. And of all these squares that of St. James's is perhaps the most
exclusive, and yet it is precisely in St. James's there is to be built
the first of those hotels designed primarily for the benefit of American
officers, where they can get a good room for five shillings a night and
breakfast at a reasonable price. One has only to sample the war-time
prices of certain hostelries to appreciate the value of this.


On the first of four unforgettable days during which I was a guest behind
the British lines in France the officer who was my guide stopped the
motor in the street of an old village, beside a courtyard surrounded