And it is a source of unspeakable joy that our children are safe.  For though to most of them their ignorance has been bliss, they have not escaped the horrors of a war in which non-combatants have suffered worse than ever before.  Only the healing hand of time can allay the grief of those for whom there can be no reunion on earth with their nearest and dearest: 

  At last the dawn creeps in with golden fingers
    Seeking my eyes, to bid them open wide
  Upon a world at peace, where Sweetness lingers,
    Where Terror is at rest and Hate has died.

  Loud soon shall sound a paean of thanksgiving
    From happy women, welcoming their men,
  Life born anew of joy to see them living. 
    Mother of Pity, what shall I do then?

Of the people at large Mr. Punch cannot better the praise of one, the late Mr. Henry James, who was nothing if not critical, and who proved his love of England by adopting her citizenship in the darkest hour of her need:  “They were about as good, above all, when it came to the stress, as could well be expected of people.  They didn’t know how good they were,” and if they lacked imagination they stimulated it immensely in others.

Apart from some effervescence in the great cities, Armistice Day was celebrated without exultation or extravagance.  In one village that we know of the church bells were rung by women.  In London our deliverance was to many people marked in the most dramatic way by the breaking of his long silence by Big Ben: 

  Gone are the days when sleep alone could break
    War’s grim and tyrannous spells;
  Now it is rest and joy to lie awake
    And listen to the bells.

So the Great War ended.  But there yet remained the most dramatic episode of all—­the surrender of the German Fleet to Admiral Beatty at Scapa Flow—­a surrender unprecedented in naval history, a great victory won without striking a blow, which yet brought no joy to our Grand Fleet.  For our admirals and captains and bluejackets felt that the Germans had smirched the glory of the fighting men of the sea, hitherto maintained in untarnished splendour by all vanquished captains from the days of Carthage to those of Cervera and Cradock.

[Illustration:  IN HONOUR OF THE BRITISH NAVY

To commemorate the surrender of the German Fleet]

EPILOGUE

It remains to trace in brief retrospect the record of “the months between”—­a period of test and trial almost as severe as that of the War.