At lunch to-day at Mr. Asquith’s—­Lord Lansdowne there; took much interest in the Knapp farm work while I briefly explained.

Lord Morley said to Mrs. Page he had become almost a Tolstoyan—­Human progress hasn’t done much for mankind’s happiness, etc.  Look at the war—­by a “progressive” nation.  Now the mistake here is horn of a class-society, a society that rests on privilege.  “Progress,” has done everything (1) in liberating men’s minds and spirits in the United States.  This is the real gain; (2) in arraying all the world against Germany.

Tuesday, January 22, 1918.

Some days bring a bunch of interesting things or men.  Then there sometimes come relatively dull days—­not often, however.  To-day came: 

General Tasker H. Bliss, Chief-of-Staff, now 64—­the wisest (so I judge) of our military men, a rather wonderful old chap.  He’s on his way to Paris as a member of the Supreme War Council at Versailles.  The big question he has struck is:  Shall American troops be put into the British and French lines, in small groups, to fill up the gaps in those armies?  The British have persuaded him that it is a military necessity.  If it were less than a necessity, it would, of course, be wrong—­i.e., it would cut across our national pride, force our men under another flag, etc.  It is not proposed to deprive Pershing of his command nor even of his army.  The plan is to bring over troops that would not otherwise now come and to lend these to the British and French armies, and to let Pershing go on with his army as if this hadn’t been done.  Bliss is inclined to grant this request on condition the British bring these men over, equip and feed them, etc.  He came in to ask me to send a telegram for him to-morrow to the President, making this recommendation.  But on reflection he decided to wait till he had seen and heard the French also, who desire the same thing as the British.

General Bliss is staying with Major Warburton; and Warburton gave me some interesting glimpses of him.  A telegram came for the General.  Warburton thought that he was out of the house and he decided to take it himself to the General’s room.  He opened the door.  There sat the General by the fire talking to himself, wrapped in thought.  Warburton walked to the middle of the room.  The old man didn’t see him.  He decided not to disturb him, for he was rehearsing what he proposed to say to the Secretary of State for War or to the Prime Minister—­getting his ears as well as his mind used to it.  Warburton put the telegram on the table near the General, went out, and wasn’t discovered.

Several nights, he sat by the fire with Warburton and began to talk, again rehearsing to himself some important conclusions that he had reached.  Every once in a while he’d look up at Warburton and say:  “Now, what do you think of that?”

That’s an amazing good way to get your thought clear and your plans well laid out.  I’ve done it myself.