WAUGH has contrived to
give an ending both original and sincere. Prophecy is dangerous; but
from a writer who has proved so brilliantly that, for once, _jeunesse
peut_, one seems justified in hoping that enlarged experience will
result in work of the highest quality.
* * * * *
Quite a host of moral reflections, none of them very original, flock to
one's mind in considering by what devious ways our Italian allies came
to range themselves on the side of that freedom which they have always
loved as well and bravely as any of the rest of us. For instance--a very
stale reflection--one sees Germany overdoing her own cleverness and
under-rating that of her neighbours--this more especially in her
arrogant dominance of Italy's commerce; further, one notices the Hun's
Belgian brutalities costing him dear in a quarter least expected; and
again one realises Italy's decision as a thing mainly dependent, in
spite of all Germany's taking little ways, on a righteous hatred of
Austria--a consideration which brings one surprisingly near to gratitude
towards the big-bully Government of Vienna. Our southern ally's loyalty
to her beautiful "unredeemed" provinces, and her claim, which all
right-minded Englishmen (I include myself) most heartily endorse, to
dominate the historically Italian waters of the Adriatic, happily proved
too strong for a machine-made sympathy for Berlin based on nothing
better than a superficial resemblance between the histories of Piedmont
and Prussia, and a record of nominal alliance with powers whose respect
for paper treaties was always fairly apparent.
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