Let us take this welter of interrogation categorically, and endeavour
to frame such answers as would occur to the average Briton to-day.
But first of all, let it be remembered that the average Briton of
to-day is not the average Briton of yesterday. Three years ago he was
a prosperous, comfortable, thoroughly insular Philistine. He took a
proprietary interest in the British Empire, and paid a munificent
salary to the Army and Navy for looking after it. There his Imperial
responsibilities ceased. As for other nations, he recognized their
existence; but that was all. In their daily life, or national ideals,
or habit of mind, he took not the slightest interest, and said so,
especially to foreigners.
"I'm English," he would explain, with a certain proud humility.
"That's good enough for yours truly!"
This sort of thing rather perplexed the American people, who take a
keen and intelligent interest in the affairs of other nations.
But to-day the average Briton would not speak like that. He will never
speak like that again. He has been outside his own island: he has made
a number of new acquaintances. He has been fighting alongside of the
French, and has made the discovery that they do not subsist entirely
upon frogs. He has encountered real Germans, at sufficiently close
quarters to realize that the "German Menace" at which his party
leaders encouraged him to scoff in a bygone age was no such phantom
after all. Altogether he is a very different person from the
complacent, parochial exponent of the tight-little-island theories of
yester-year. He has encountered things at home and abroad which have
purged his very soul. Abroad, he has seen the whole of Belgium and
some of the fairest provinces of France subjected to the grossest and
most bestial barbarity. At home, he has seen inoffensive watering
places bombarded by pirate craft which came up out of the sea like
malignant wraiths and then fled away like panic-stricken
window-smashers. He has seen Zeppelins hovering over close-packed
working-class districts in industrial towns, raining indiscriminate
destruction upon men, women, and children. In fact, he has seen things
and suffered things that he never even dreamed of, and they have
broadened his mind considerably.
Last year, under stress of these circumstances, the average Briton
relinquished his age-long propensity to "let George do it," and
evolved a sudden and rather inspiring sense of personal responsibility
for the safety and welfare of his country. He no longer limited his
patriotism to the roaring of truculent choruses at music-halls, or the
decorating of his bicycle with the flags of the Allies. He went and
enlisted instead. Now he has faced Death in person--and outfaced him.
He has ceased to attach an exaggerated value to his own life. Life, he
realizes, like Peace, is only worth retaining on certain terms, the
first of which is Honour, and the second Honour, and the third Honour.
Finally, he regards the present War as a Holy War--a Crusade, in fact.
He went into it with no ulterior motives: his sole impulse was to
stand by his friends, France and Belgium, in the face of the monstrous
outrage that was being forced upon them. He is out, in fact, to save
civilization and human decency. Consequently he finds it just a little
difficult to understand how a warm-hearted and high-spirited nation
can be expected to remain "neutral even in thought."
With this much introduction to the man and his point of view, we will
allow him to speak for himself.