Meaning no evil. I dip my hand in the accumulation and extract
a leaflet by the all too zealous Mr. Murray. In it he denounces various
public officials by name as he cheats and scoundrels, and invites a
prosecution for libel.
In that fashion nothing will ever get done. There is no prosecution,
but for all that I do not agree with Mr. Murray about the men he names.
These gentlemen are just comfortable gentlemen, own brothers to these
old generals of ours who will not take off their spurs. They are
probably quite charming people except that they know nothing of that
Fear of God which searches by heart. Why should they bother?
So many of these after-the-war problems bring one back to the
question of how far the war has put the Fear of God into the hearts of
responsible men. There is really no other reason in existence that I
can imagine why they should ask themselves the question, "Have I done my
best?" and that still more important question, "Am I doing my best now?"
And so while I hear plenty of talk about the great reorganisations that
are to come after the war, while there is the stir of doubt among the
_rentiers_ whether, after all, they will get paid, while the unavoidable
stresses and sacrifices of the war are making many people question the
rightfulness of much that they did as a matter of course, and of much
that they took for granted, I perceive there is also something dull
and not very articulate in this European world, something resistant and
inert, that is like the obstinate rolling over of a heavy sleeper after
he has been called upon to get up.
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