ir acts, entertain a fundamentally false
conception of the relations between the Teutons and the allied
nations. Among the elements of that conception there would seem to be
no room for the historic past. The present stands by itself with a
history that goes no further back than the month of July 1914, and
will convulsively come to an end with the truce that ushers in the
future treaty of peace. For that diplomatic instrument will put an end
to the struggle and inaugurate an era of international tranquillity.
Such is the theory on which their entire policy is based.

We must fight on now to a _finish_, but the upshot is sure to be a
finish. Their anticipations of an unclouded dawn, when the present
night has worn itself into the streaky greyness of morning, are
certain to come to pass. The ordeal which we are undergoing is
tremendous, but at any rate the nation and its allies will emerge from
it rejuvenated under the spell of the present magicians, as the old
ram emerged lamb-like and frisky from Medea's cauldron. That, in
brief, would seem to be the picture in the mind's eye of the British
Government, and to that conception all their plans are being
accommodated.

As a matter of ascertainable fact, neither we nor our Allies have
anything of the kind to hope for. In the near future the present
campaign will have come to a close, but not the struggle between
ourselves and our Teuton aggressors. For this war, far from ending the
tragic duel between the two types of community life in Europe, is but
one of its transient episodes. The trial of strength began many years
ago and will not be decided for many years to come, how satisfactory
so ever the terms of the future peace may be to ourselves and our
Allies. This is a fundamental truth which has not yet penetrated the
consciousness of either rulers or people. And for that reason the
problem awaiting them is mis-stated, belittled. According to the
received version it is to beat back German aggression and render it
impossible in the future. Now, however successfully the first part of
the task may be discharged--and it is still very uphill work--the
second is a sheer impossibility, and to lay our plans as though it
were feasible and soon to be realized, is to embark on the body of a
sleeping whale in the belief that it is an island in the sea. And to
negotiate peace abroad and give an impulse to politics at home, with
that comforting prospect in mind, is to lead the nation i