The British Government itself, in its reconstruction department for the
political education of the wounded, has given partial denial to the old
maxim that it is the soldier's business not to think but to obey; and the
British army is leavened with men who read and reflect in the long nights
of watching in the rain, who are gaining ideas about conditions in the
past and resolutions concerning those of the future. The very army
itself has had a miracle happen to it: it has been democratized--and with
the cheerful consent of the class to which formerly the possession of
commissions was largely confined. Gradually, to these soldier-thinkers,
as well as to the mass of others at home, is unfolding the vision of a
new social order which is indeed worth fighting for and dying for.



III

At last, our knees cramped and our feet soaked, we saw the lights of the
French port dancing across the veil of rain, like thistledowns of fire,
and presently we were at rest at a stone quay. As I stood waiting on the
deck to have my passport vised, I tried to reconstruct the features of
this little seaport as I had seen it, many years before, on a bright
summer's day when I had motored from Paris on my way to London. The gay
line of hotels facing the water was hidden in the darkness. Suddenly I
heard my name called, and I was rescued from the group of civilians by a
British officer who introduced himself as my host. It was after nine
o'clock, and he had been on the lookout for me since half past seven.
The effect of his welcome at that time and place was electrical, and I
was further immensely cheered by the news he gave me, as we hurried along
the street, that two friends of mine were here and quite hungry, having
delayed dinner for my arrival. One of them was a young member of