It needs cultivation and direction; but it's there--the vital principle, even if we don't recognize it when we see it.

All the same," he concluded in a lighter tone, "I'm glad you are going into the fight.

We can't hurt a principle by fighting it, you know." Then he passed on his way; and the transient enthusiasm which had illuminated Stephen's mind drifted away like clouds of blown smoke.

How could he fight with any heart when there seemed to him nothing on either side that was worth fighting for--nothing except the unselfish patriotism of John Benham?
He remembered the fervour, the exaltation with which he had gone to France that first year of the war.

The belief in a righteous cause which would bring peace on earth and good will toward men; the belief in a human fellowship which would grow out of sacrifice; the belief in a fairer social order which would flower from the bloodstained memories of the battlefields,--what was there left of these romantic illusions to-day?
Was it true, as Vetch had once said, that organized killing, even in a just cause, must bring its spiritual punishment?
Could the lust of blood be changed by a document into the love of one's brother?
"I gave my youth in that war," he thought, "and I won from it--what?
Disillusionment." With the reflection he felt again the exhaustion of the nerves, the infirmity of purpose against which he had struggled ever since his return.