and no one can deny. It is a matter, indeed, between himself and his conscience. Greater responsibility was never placed upon man than is placed upon natives of Great Britain at this time. There is another responsibility, perhaps, which devolves on those who cannot enlist, on the maimed, the halt, and the aged. I purposely did not say the blind, because there is a proverb about the blind leading, which might give rise to some suspicion as to the validity of my mission. But there is this responsibility on those who cannot enlist when you have had, as we unfortunately have, the age and experience—I observe as usual, my Lord Provost, you have alluded to me as senior burgess of the city of Glasgow, and it has become so familiar to me, this remark, that I have come to feel like the grandmother of the city of Glasgow—[laughter]—there is a responsibility on us with age and experience to point out what people seem insensible to, largely insensible to, though you would not think so from this meeting, that is, the awful nature of the crisis in which our country finds itself to-day. Where I live, in a remote countryside, man goes forth to his labour till the evening, the ploughing goes on, all the operations of agriculture, and except for a searchlight at night occasionally, you could not dream that we were living in other than in times of profound peace. It is a sparse neighbourhood, and therefore it is easy to entertain that delusion. But I suppose if I had come to Glasgow to-day and been in Buchanan Street at noon I should have seen the customary crowd hustling and bustling about after their business, seeking what none of us is ever destined to find—that little more which will satisfy us. I suppose that, as that crowd passed along, they might cast a casual glance on the placard announcing the news in the morning or the evening papers, very much with the air with which you look at the theatrical placard announcing that Macbeth or King Lear, or some great tragedy of that kind is going to be enacted, at which you may take a seat if you like, as your whim pleases. Do we then realize? I ask every man here, does he realize that within twenty-five miles of the southern coast of this island a battle is raging, and has been raging for three months, and may, for all I know, rage for three years more, on which our safety, our future, the existence of our country, our Empire, are staked on the hazard? [Cheers.] It is not a battle, a campaign, a few battles to be lost or won, perhaps a province to be annexed, such as the battles you read of in history. It is a battle of life or death. [Hear, hear.]
