ties; of the obligations of Public Law and the pledged word; of righteousness as against brute force; of the freedom of the citizen against centralized military rule; of man and his conscience; of God and His kingdom; it is a gigantic world battle for the greatest, the most precious spiritual possessions the world has won in its continuous struggles. The contest is not for the supremacy of any single State! No; States come and States go. They are institutions, and institutions are "like snowflakes on a river, one moment here, then gone for ever": it is for those true and just ideas and principles, which are the real wealth of humanity, and it is for them, and therefore for humanity, we have been battling in this year 1914, and are battling still.
The tremendous character of this war is seen in the overwhelming completeness with which, although it has only been waged for 150 days out of the 365, it has wiped out, as with a sponge, all the events and experiences of the seven months prior to its advent. I have catechized some of my friends as to what happened in and out of England in the earlier part of the year. "Tell me," I have said, "something that took place in April! What was China doing in March? Was Colorado quiet in February?" Books were published; who can tell the names of two or three? The artists were at their tasks; does any scene or picture remain in the chamber of imagination? Great men passed away, and their names are recorded in a line or two, even though one sat on the Papal throne, and another had the distinction of shattering two great political parties. Events took place: will you recall half a dozen charged with dynamic and reproductive energy, for the shaping of the world's future! The fact is, when Mars takes the stage, clad in "shining armour," there is no room for anybody else. It is at once swept clear of all previous occupants. The Kaiser sought "a place in the sun"—and to that he has as much right as any other person—but he so sought and gained his position that there has been no room since for anything, or any one, that did not concern him. Men are so obsessed by the obnoxious and distressful presence that they are not able to think of anything else. We say "business as usual"; but we know well enough, it is not "as usual" and cannot be. It is one of the effects of the appalling cataclysm of war that it carries into an abyss of forgetfulness the patient toil, the zealous devotion, the noble idealism, and the strenuous efforts of the preceding seven
