pport given to the President by Mr. Lloyd
George and the British Government; and he explains this support as due
to the British conviction "that the war has changed the whole position
of Great Britain in the world. The costs of the struggle in men, in
money, in _prestige_ (the italics are mine), have cut very deeply; the
moral effect of the submarine warfare in its later phase, and of last
year's desperate campaign, have left their marks upon the Englishman,
and find expression in his conduct.... British comment frankly
recognises that it will never again be within the power of Great
Britain, even if there were the desire, to challenge America in war or
in peace."

In other words, the support given by Great Britain to President
Wilson's ideas means that British statesmen are conscious of a loss of
national power and prestige, and of a weakened Empire behind them.

Hasty words, I think!--and, in my belief, very wide of the mark. At
any rate I may plead that during my own month in France I have been in
contact with many leading men in many camps, English, French, and
American, and both military and diplomatic, especially with the
British Army and its chiefs; and so far from perceiving in the
frankest and most critical talk of our own people--and how critical we
are of our own doings those know who know us best--any sense of lost
prestige or weakened power, my personal impression is overwhelmingly
the other way. We are indeed anxious and willing to share
responsibilities, say in Africa, and the Middle East, with America as
with France. Why not? The mighty elder power is eager to see America
realise her own world position, and come forward to take her share in
a world-ordering, which has lain too heavy until now on England's sole
shoulders. She is glad and thankful--the "weary Titan"--to hand over
some of her responsibilities to America, and to share many of the
rest. She wants nothing more for herself--the Great Mother of
Nations--why should she? She has so much. But loss of prestige? The
feeling in those with whom I have talked, is rather the feeling of
Kipling's _Recessional_--a profound and wondering recognition that the
Imperial bond has indeed stood so magnificently the test of these four
years, just as Joseph Chamberlain, the Empire-builder, believed and
hoped it would stand, when the day of testing came; a pride in what
the Empire has done too deep for many words; coupled with the stubborn
resolution, which says l