e the summer of last year. In it, as I have just said, we see
an _effect_ of a great cause--i.e., of the "effort" made by Great
Britain, since the war broke out, to bring her military strength in men
and munitions to a point, sufficient, in combination with the strength of
her Allies, for victory over the Central Powers, who after long and
deliberate preparation had wantonly broken the European peace. The
"effort" was for us a new one, provoked by Germany, and it will have
far-reaching civil consequences when the war is over.

In the great Naval victory now known as the Battle of Jutland, on the
other hand, we have a fresh demonstration on a greater scale than ever
before, of that old, that root fact, without which indeed the success of
the Allied effort in other directions would be impossible--i.e., _the
overwhelming strength of the British Navy_, and its mastery of the Sea.

In a few earlier pages of this book, I have described a visit which the
British Admiralty allowed me to make in February last to a portion of the
Fleet, then resting in a northern harbour. On that occasion, at the
Vice-Admiral's luncheon-table, there sat beside me on my right, a tall
spare man with the intent face of one to whom life has been a great arid
strenuous adventure, accepted in no boyish mood, but rather in the spirit
of the scientific explorer, pushing endlessly from one problem to the
next, and passionate for all experience that either unveils the world, or
tests himself. We talked of the war, and my projected journey. "I envy
you!" he said, his face lighting up. "I would give anything to see our
Army in the field." My neighbour was Rear-Admiral Sir Robert Arbuthnot,
commanding the First Cruiser Squadron, who went down with his flagship
_H.M.S. Defence_, in the Battle of Jutland, on the 31st of May last, while
passing between the British and German fleets, under a very heavy fire.
"It is probable," said Admiral Jellicoe's despatch, "that Sir Robert
Arbuthnot, during his engagement with the enemy's light cruisers, and in
his desire to complete their destruction, was not aware of the approach of
the enemy's heavy ships, owing to the mist, until he found himself in
close proximity to the main fleet, and before he could withdraw his ships,
they were caught under a heavy fire and disabled." So, between the fleets
of Germany and England, amid the mists of the May evening, and the storm
and smoke of battle, my courteous neighbour of three mont