e menace to our
naval supremacy," or joining in the chorus of "We want eight and we
won't wait," or expressing his utter contempt for "all this militarism,"
and his belief in the "international solidarity" of the new democracy.
But there never entered his inmost convictions that the day might
come during his own lifetime when he--a citizen of Suburbia--might
have to fight for his own hearthside and suffer the intolerable horrors
of war while the roses in his garden were trampled down in mud and
blood, and while his own house came clattering down like a pack of
cards--the family photographs, the children's toys, the piano which he
had bought on the hire system, all the household gods which he
worshipped, mixed up in a heap of ruin--as afterwards at
Scarborough and Hartlepool, Ipswich, and Southend.

If such a thing were possible, why had the nation been duped by its
Government? Why had we been lulled into a false sense of security
without a plain statement of facts which would have taught us to
prepare for the great ordeal? The Government ought to have known
and told the truth. If this war came the manhood of the nation would
be unready and untrained. We should have to scramble an army
together, when perhaps it would be too late.

The middle classes of England tried to comfort themselves even at
the eleventh hour by incredulity.

"Impossible!" they cried. "The thing is unbelievable. It is only a
newspaper scare!"

But as the hours passed the shadow of war crept closer, and touched
the soul of Europe.

5

In Fleet Street, which is connected with the wires of the world, there
was a feverish activity. Walls and tables were placarded with maps.
Photographs, gazetteers, time tables, cablegrams littered the rooms
of editors and news editors. There was a procession of literary
adventurers up the steps of those buildings in the Street of
Adventure--all those men who get lost somewhere between one war
and another and come out with claims of ancient service on the
battlefields of Europe when the smell of blood is scented from afar;
and scores of new men of sporting instincts and jaunty confidence,
eager to be "in the middle of things," willing to go out on any terms so
long as they could see "a bit of fun," ready to take all risks. Special
correspondents, press photographers, the youngest reporters on the
staff, sub-editors emerging from little dark rooms with a new
excitement in eyes that had grown tired with proof c