Certain deeds he disliked, certain deeds seemed natural to
him, and about most deeds he had no particular feeling.
He had, however, the one deepest pure-bred instinct. He recoiled
inevitably from having his feelings dictated to him by the mass feeling.
His feelings were his own, his understanding was his own, and he would
never go back on either, willingly. Shall a man become inferior to his
own true knowledge and self, just because the mob expects it of him?
What Egbert felt subtly and without question, his father-in-law felt also
in a rough, more combative way. Different as the two men were, they were
two real Englishmen, and their instincts were almost the same.
And Godfrey Marshall had the world to reckon with. There was German
military aggression, and the English non-military idea of liberty and the
'conquests of peace'--meaning industrialism. Even if the choice between
militarism and industrialism were a choice of evils, the elderly man
asserted his choice of the latter, perforce. He whose soul was quick with
the instinct of power.
Egbert just refused to reckon with the world. He just refused even to
decide between German militarism and British industrialism. He chose
neither. As for atrocities, he despised the people who committed them as
inferior criminal types. There was nothing national about crime.
And yet, war! War! Just war! Not right or wrong, but just war itself.
Pages:
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52