ntry, would therefore wish his country defeat in war.
But he who has surmounted his patriotism and has attained complete
impartiality would not selfishly claim the only benefit of war entirely
for his own country, but would desire all to share it alike, and would
therefore wish defeat for every warring nation.

If a horde of British and a horde of German soldiers engage in mutual
butchery, and if the maimed, broken remnants of the British horde have
just enough order left to drive back the remnants of the German horde,
leaving innumerable dead and wounded and for ever darkening the lives of
countless friends and wives--in other words, if the British army wins
what our infamous Press would call a "glorious victory"--then all that
is evil in the life of the nation is encouraged and justified. It is
then that the diplomatists who lied and schemed to bring on the
monstrous event, that all the politicians who exploit and foster the
nation's madness and misery to enhance their own reputations, that those
who batten on the slaughter, and that those who glorify the carnage at
a safe distance and fight the enemy with their lying tongues, are
justified. They all are justified. But if, instead of victory, there is
defeat, then they tremble lest they should be disgraced and lose their
places, lest they should be victims of a disillusioned people's anger,
lest they should forfeit their plunder, lest they should be called to
account for the lies with which they fooled the masses. Defeat is the
defeat of evil, victory is the victory of evil.

* * * * *

A second batch of papers arrived. The German advance was continuing. The
British reverse was becoming catastrophic. At first I felt a kind of
grimness, and then I was thrilled by the thought that perhaps the end of
the war might be near. We might not have a good peace, but peace of any
kind was preferable to war. The mendacious Press talked much about a
"dishonourable peace," as though any peace could be as dishonourable as
a prolonged war.

But the immediate reality became too overwhelming. Grey multitudes were
sweeping khaki multitudes before them. High-explosives, shrapnel,
grenades, bombs, bullets were rending, piercing, and shattering the
living flesh and muscle and bone. Towns and villages were being turned
into heaps of brick and wreckage. Hordes of old men, women, and children
were thronging the roads, and fleeing from approaching disaster.