[D]RUPERT BROOKE _From "Collected Poems of Rupert Brooke". Reprinted by permission of McClelland & Stewart, Ltd., Publishers, Toronto, and of the Executor of the Author, and Sidgwick & Jackson, Ltd., London, England_ FOOTNOTE: [D] Rupert Brooke died from sunstroke on his way to the Dardanelles, April 23, 1915, and was buried in the Island of Scyros. EXTRACT FROM "THE MEANING OF WAR" The moral energy of nations, as of individuals, is only sustained by an ideal higher than themselves, and stronger than themselves, to which they cling firmly when they feel their courage waver. Where is the ideal of the Germany of to-day? The time when her philosophers proclaimed the inviolability of right, the eminent dignity of the person, the duty of mutual respect among nations, is no more. Germany, militarized by Prussia, has cast aside those noble ideas, ideas she received for the most part from the France of the eighteenth century and of the Revolution. She has made for herself a new soul, or rather she has meekly accepted the soul Bismarck has given her. To him has been attributed the famous maxim "Might is Right". But in truth Bismarck never pronounced it, for he had well guarded himself against a distinction of right from might. Right was simply in his view what is willed by the strongest, what is consigned by the conqueror in the law he imposes on the conquered. In that is summed up his whole morality. Germany to-day knows no other. She, too, worships brute force. And because she believes herself the strongest, she is altogether absorbed in self-adoration. Her energy comes from her pride. Her moral force is only the confidence which her material force inspires in her. And this means that in this respect she is living on reserves without means of replenishment. Even before England had commenced to blockade her coasts, she had blockaded herself morally, in isolating herself from every ideal capable of giving her new life. So she will see her forces waste and her courage at the same time. But the energy of our soldiers is drawn from something which does not waste, from an ideal of justice and freedom. Time has no hold on us. To the force which feeds only on its own brutality we are opposing that which seeks outside and above itself a principle of life and renovation. Whilst the one is gradually spending itself, the other is continually re-making itself. The one is already wavering, the other abides unshaken. Have no fear, our force will slay theirs. HENRI LOUIS BERGSON _By permission of the Publishers, T. Fisher Unwin, Ltd., London, England_ TO OUR DEAD