It is visible to
other eyes than ours. Some time ago I heard an address given by a friend
of mine, an Indian Mohammedan of warrior descent, to University students
of his own faith. He was urging on them the futility of dreams and the
necessity of self-discipline and self-devotion. 'Why do the people of
this country', he said, 'count for so much all the world over? It is not
because of their dreams; it is because thousands of them are lying at
the bottom of the sea.'
Further, we have not only found ourselves; we have found one another. A
new kindliness has grown up, during the War, between people divided by
the barriers of class, or wealth, or circumstance. A statesman of the
seventeenth century remarks that _It is a Misfortune for a Man not to
have a Friend in the World, but for that reason he shall have no Enemy_.
I might invert his maxim and say, _It is a Misfortune for a Man to have
many Enemies, but for that reason he shall know who are his Friends_. No
Radical member of Parliament will again, while any of us live, cast
contempt on 'the carpet Captains of Mayfair'.
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