And
France--the German Army, like a wild beast, has fastened its claws deep
into her soil, and every effort to drag them out rends and tears the
living flesh of that beautiful land. The beast of prey has not leaped to
our shores--not a hair of Britain's head has been touched by him. Why?
Because of the vigilant watchdog that patrols the deep for us; and that
is my complaint against the British Navy. It does not enable us to
realize that Britain at the present moment is waging the most serious
war it has ever been engaged in. We do not understand it. A few weeks
ago I visited France. We had a conference of the Ministers of Finance of
Russia, France, Great Britain, and Belgium. Paris is a changed city. Her
gayety, her vivacity, is gone. You can see in the faces of every man
there, and of every woman, that they know their country is in the grip
of grim tragedy. They are resolved to overcome it, confident that they
will overcome it, but only through a long agony.
No visitor to our shores would realize that we are engaged in exactly
the same conflict, and that on the stricken fields of the Continent and
along the broads and the narrows of the seas that encircle our islands
is now being determined, not merely the fate of the British Empire, but
the destiny of the human race for generations to come.
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