BOOKS.
THE BRITISH CAMPAIGN IN FRANCE AND FLANDERS, 1014.' Sin Asmara Conan Dorna's volume on The British Campaign in France and Flanders till the end of 1914 is well worth reading. With great skill, and with simplicity of language, he tells the story of how the world became involved in the war, how the " oontemptibles " were landed on the shores of France, how they
passed through the fiery furnace of the retreat from Mons " with unsinged hair," and how, at the first battle of Ypres, they offered their breasts as a bulwark to the German flood. Canning in one of his loftiest flights of eloquence in the House of Commons spoke of the day when " the Belgian yeoman's orchard wall was the vantage-ground of Europe." In October, November, and December, 1914—for the first battle of Ypres was a three months' agony—it was but a thin wall of British flesh and blood that barred the road to Calais. We saved the most vulaeistle piece of her soil for France, and in saving her saved ourselves. Gallantly did our Allies bear the burden of some three hundred miles of front, while at that time we hardly held fifty. But if the German torrent had forced its way through our bank, in the end all France would have been inundated.
How we prevailed Sir Conan Doyle tells us in clear and dignified
language. Why we prevailed neither ho nor any other man will ever be able to tell us in detail. From the material, or rather from the purely human, side we can only say we were able to do what we did because we believed we could do it. Pos:unt quia passe videntur. For ourselves, however, we recognize that our men accomplished the impossible for a different reason. They withstood the attacks of troops who outnumbered them five to one, and who had not only the ground in their favour, but, what was infinitely more important, had great guns where we had only small guns, endless shells where we had few or none, and twelve or fifteen machine-guns to a battalion where we had but four or five. This they did because God was not parted from us, as was feared, but "favouring and assisting to the end." But though we may feel in our own hearts that it was the will of God that we should prevail, and that it was His will because our cause was righteous, it is a thought which we dare not, ought not to, push or press or boast of, hardly to put into words. That way lies a shameful self-righteousness. Who are we that we should dare, in smug complacency, to assume that we are Heaven's favourites, or can deal damnation round the earth to those we consider our foes ? It is a strutting impiety to boast ourselves the chosen people. All we dare to say is " God's will be done," and to remember what was done on the fields of Flanders in the autumn of 1914.
But let us leave ground so sacred and so dangerous. What is a plain fact, written all over Sir Conan Doyle's reminders of the war, is that the German Army and the German military system stand disgraced before the world because they did not beat us in 1914, because they did not drive us into the sea and hurl back the French Army in ruin from Basle to Lille and ours from Lille to Ypres. We use the word " disgraced" advisedly. All things considered, there is no such inexcusable military failure recorded in history as that of the Gsrmans. They had an army of millions of brave men ready to make any sacrifices they were esEed upon to make, men trained as soldiers have never been trained before. They had officers so carefully instructed in all the military arts that each was an expert. They had a supply of armaments and munitions in hand and ready when the war began beyond the wildest dreams of any so-called scaremonger. Finally, and most amazing of all, they were absolutely prepared. Their real mobilization had taken place a year before they struck. They were awake, dressed, and waiting for the word to go, while the Allies were still in bed and asleep. With such an army, such preparations, such science, such skill, and such courage they ought to have been able to overwhelm us at the first attack. Indeed, they did physically overwhelm us, but somehow at the last moment the whole thing was bungled. They failed to pluck the fruit which was within their grasp, and the victory which seemed already theirs turned to dust and ashes. Never in the world's history was there a failure so gigantic. All the parts appeared good, and yet the net result was a huge mountain of muddle, or at any rate of non-achievement. Some day the philosophers of the world will guess at the reason on the material and human side. Greatly daring, we will guess even now. The Germans failed because they were like Warton, "the scorn and wonder" of the day of Pope, the man of whom the poet said :-
" Thus with each gift of Nature and of Art, And wanting nothing but an honest heart."
Dishonesty of purpose had petrified their souls. They could not thrive because that which should have been warm and responsive was a cold stone, because cruelty and lust had taken the place of human emotion. That we and our Allies had plenty of faults who dare deny ? But they were the faults of human beings, not of reptile-hearted pseudo-supermen.
We have written at large and in the abstract the thoughts which
• The British Campaign is Frame and Flanders, 1914. By Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. London fodder and Stoughton. Ne. net.) Sir Conan Doyle's most interesting concrete summary has struck from us. Let our readers trace for themselves in detail the lines of thought wo have suggested. They will be well repaid. If they look at the index—for, happily, there is a very good one—they will find under the heading of "Regiments" a most glorious list, recalling some noble deed done by " the military representatives " of every shire and town in the land.- One word more. We specially hope that this clear and well-balanced book will be read in the United States. It will make Americans understand what we feel and how we feel, and why we are too proud of our men to boast of them and of their heroic deeds, even if our failure exposes its to the accusation of being indifferent to the cause, that is written on every British heart.
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