A WAR MEMORY 219 



swell, their creaming crests surging forward 

 to form great breakers on the beach. They 

 reminded me of surf-bathing witnessed in 

 distant seas. 



Surf-bathers use the waves as the shrewd 

 folk at the head of affairs in Whitehall use 

 public opinion. They carry their little planks 

 out into the sea, keeping well within their depth, 

 and watch their opportunity. Seeing a great 

 wave come swelling in from the ocean, they 

 jump upwards to its crest. They must do so 

 at exactly the right moment, when the top 

 of the swell begins to foam and fret before 

 forming a seething and crashing breaker. If 

 they jump too soon, they are not carried forward 

 themselves, though they may possibly make 

 the wave break sooner and help others, wiser 

 than they, to ride upon its crest. If they jump 

 too late, they are engulfed in the breaker itself, 

 which rolls them over and over, buffeted by 

 the clashing pebbles, in the hissing streams of 

 the back- wash. If they jump at the right time, 

 they enjoy the exhilarating experience of being 

 swept forward to safety on shore, poised upon 

 the summit of the surging surf, which they can 

 use, but cannot create. So with the good folk 

 in Whitehall, the scene of this war memory. 



That famous thoroughfare appeals to philo- 



