He knew what it meant to mankind. Under the British flag,
wherever he journeyed, he found men of English speech living in an
atmosphere of liberty and carrying on the dear domestic traditions of
the British Isles. He saw justice firmly planted there, industry and
invention hard at work unfettered by tyrants of any kind, domestic life
prospering in natural conditions, and our old English kindness and
cheerfulness and broad-minded tolerance keeping things together. But he
also saw room under that same flag, ample room, for millions and
millions more of the human race. The Empire wasn't a word to him. It was
a vast, an almost boundless, home for honest men.'
The War did not dishearten him. When he died, in August, 1917, he said,
'Here I lie on my death-bed, looking clear into the Promised Land. I'm
not allowed to enter it, but there it is before my eyes. After the War
the people of this country will enter it, and those who laughed at me
for a dreamer will see that I wasn't so wrong after all. But there's
still work to do for those who didn't laugh, hard work, and with much
opposition in the way; all the same, it is work right up against the
goal.
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