'Come now,' I said, 'it is very easy to speak in generalities about such a question; but tell me how, in a practical way, faith in God, and religious enthusiasm would help us to win this war?'
'How?' he cried. 'Don't you see that in addition to what I will call the spiritual power which would come through faith in, and obedience to the will of God, you add a practical, human force? Let there be this faith, this enthusiasm, and the people, the soldiers, would be ready for anything. Our workpeople would cease going on strike, employers and tradespeople would no longer be profiteers, grumbling and disunity would cease. We should all _unitedly_ throw ourselves, heart and soul into this great struggle, and nothing could withstand us.'
'But tell me why we are not worthy of victory, now,' I urged.
He was silent for a few seconds, and then went on quietly: 'You will forgive me, sir, if I seem assertive, but I look on you as my friend--and--and you know all about me--that I know myself. As I have said before, I naturally look at things differently from others. I have to be always beginning _de novo_. But tell me, sir, what do you think are the greatest curses in the British Army? What ruins most of our soldiers, body and soul?'
I hesitated a second, and then replied, 'Drink and--and impurity.'
'Exactly; and how much is the latter owing to the former?'
'Just so. Now go a step further. Did not one of England's most prominent statesmen say that he feared drink more than he feared the Germans?'
'That was a rhetorical flourish,' I laughed.
'No, it was a sober considered statement. Now think. Before I--I--that is before God became real to me, I looked at this question from the standpoint of policy. I considered the whole thing in the light of the fact that it was sapping our strength, wasting our manhood. But I have had to go deeper, and now I see----great God, man, it's ghastly! positively ghastly!'
'Look here, sir,'--and his voice became very intense,--'I suppose you are typical of the educated Britisher. You stand half-way between the extreme Puritan on the one hand, and the mere man of the world on the other. Tell me this: Do you regard the body as of more importance than the soul? Do you think material success more vital than the uplifting of the real man? Do you look upon any gain won at the expense of a man's character as a good thing?'