There is no chance of
that now, since they took to whining about humanity. Yet it is very
difficult wholly to alienate the sympathies of the English people. It is
perhaps in some ways a weakness, as it is certainly in other ways a
strength, that we are fanciers of other peoples. Our soldiers have a
tendency to make pets of their prisoners, to cherish them as curiosities
and souvenirs. The fancy becomes a passion when we find a little fellow
struggling valiantly against odds. I suppose we should be at war with
Germany to-day, even if the Germans had respected the neutrality of
Belgium. But the unprovoked assault upon a little people that asked only
to be let alone united all opinions in this country and brought us in
with a rush. I believe there is one German, at least (I hope he is
alive), who understands this. Early in July, 1914, a German student at
Oxford, who was a friend and pupil of mine, came to say good-bye to me.
I have since wondered whether he was under orders to join his regiment.
Anyhow, we talked very freely of many things, and he told me of an
adventure that had befallen him in an Oxford picture-palace.
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