if only "The Day" would dawn giving half a chance of striking a blow for freedom and exemption from control of the hated British yoke; and that the welding together of all these (believed-to-be) irreconcilable nations and peoples in a common battle cause was an unthinkable impossibility.

It was common knowledge to the Secret Service agents of all nations that the Liberal-Radical Government of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland was tottering to a fall. Its popularity with the masses had waned; its hypocrisy with the middle classes had become a byword; its disloyalty to the Empire with the upper classes had become revolting; its days had become numbered. The German War party saw this and realised the fact better than the English. It knew that it was of vital importance to its world-power dream to make war only when a Liberal, Radical, and Socialist party was in office in England; it would be courting disaster to do so if a Unionist Government were in power.

Yea, verily, the Kaiser believed that the harvest of his sowing was ready for the garnering.

All these things were reported in gloating glee by the army of Teutonic spies in our midst to their respective headquarters, thence conveyed to their Central Office at Berlin with an openness that might have seemed an insult to the intelligence of Scotland Yard and those who direct and control that very effective and efficient department; only our astute police service happened to be much more wide awake than it appeared to be.

The man in power, the one and only being who really knew the truth of what was actually happening over and beyond the horizon of our ken, maintained an impassive silence. His motto throughout was and had been "Wait and See."

The ruler of the waves, the noble and illustrious British Bull-dog, Lord Fisher, knew and had known. He had never failed his countrymen. He pushed along all and every preparation for the evil day, which a weak and Peace-at-any-price Government had permitted.

The illustrious martial Warrior of previous wars, whose life and loved ones had been sacrificed upon the altar of patriotism and loyalty, knew. He had never failed to lift his voice in warning, both inside and outside Parliament, since he returned from the South African War, imploring support, reformation, and more attention to the Army; pleading conscription amongst the youthful masses; working so unselfishly, so energetically and so devotedly, and in feverish anxiety for the protection and welfare of the Motherland and our Empire, right up to the day of his glorious death within sound of the German guns. A fitting dirge for so beloved and valiant a Hero.

The man of Foreign Affairs, the man who gained for himself the utmost honour, respect, esteem, and gratitude from all the world, by reason of his unflagging and unceasing efforts to keep and maintain the peace of Europe, he also knew. To the very last hour, yea, even far beyond it, he worked on, hoping against hope that such a terrible calamity as threatened to paralyse the nations of the earth for centuries to come might yet be averted. Noble man, working for a noble cause! History will record your efforts, but no pen can adequately record your meritorious deserts. Oh! the pity of it that you, a true genius in the arts of peace and of peaceful diplomacies, did not retire at the outbreak of war in favour of some more martial, bellicose, and iron-fisted statesman, instead of clinging to office during the awful years that followed, when our enemy not only torpedoed all the laws of nations, but outraged every decent feeling of humanity. Your honourable and gentlemanly nature made it impossible for you to realise, to understand, or to compete with these barbaric and inhuman practices.

The man in opposition, whose duty it is to criticise and restrain the hotheadedness of Governmental action, although he is not admitted to share the secrets of the Cabinet, he knew. His instinct told him what was looming behind the electrically charged atmosphere, and he at once showed that he was a true-born Britisher first and foremost before he was a politician.

The man of marvellous organisation abilities, who had been more than once conveniently removed far afield from English politics in order to straighten out our tangled skeins in the East, because such efficient capables as himself, Lord Fisher, Lord Roberts and others did not suit the party system of our modern Democratic Government, also knew. But that man of action without words had to sit and look on, whilst the late friend of the Kaiser was kept in office until the unmistakable voice of the people arose in ugly anger to demand the change. Alas, that your precious life should have been sacrificed by treachery which ought to have been checkmated.

The man of mystery, who, although not admitted as a member of the ship of state, clung limpet-like to its bottom and maintained an existence thereon, he knew; perhaps first of all. His knowledge was but a materialisation of reports foreshadowing such an event which had floated to him in crescendo numbers. His office was one of semi-independence. He could act with promptness and decision. He did, so far as he was permitted to go.

War was in the air. This seemed to be conceived but not to be realised. The very idea was too terrible to be true. A portentous omen had been uttered by a great Silesian nobleman, Count von Oppersdorff, only a few hours before it was publicly known that England would declare war against Germany if the neutrality of Belgium was violated.

He had inquired from Mr. F. W. Wile, an Anglo-American journalist in Berlin, if such a contingency could be possible. On being answered in the affirmative, he muttered with great seriousness, "There will be many surprises."

The real and concise reason which forced England to join in the war is recorded in the now famous despatch of Sir Edward Goschen, the British Ambassador at Berlin, to Sir Edward Grey, the British Minister for Foreign Affairs. It runs as follows:

August 4, 1914: "I found the Chancellor very agitated. His Excellency at once began an harangue which lasted for twenty minutes. He said that the step taken by His Majesty's Government (the ultimatum of war) was terrible to a degree; just for a word—'Neutrality,' a word which in war time had so often been disregarded—just for a scrap of paper Great Britain was going to make war on a kindred nation. I said that, in the same way as he and Herr von Jagow (the German Secretary of State) wished me to understand that for strategical reasons it was a matter of life and death to Germany to advance through Belgium and violate the latter's neutrality, so I would wish him to understand that it was, so to speak, a matter of 'life and death' for the honour of Great Britain that she should keep her solemn engagement to do her utmost to defend Belgium's neutrality if attacked."

It was on the 5th of August, 1914, that the British nation was called to arms. It awoke, suddenly, startled as from some horrible nightmare. It was shaken and stirred in a manner unprecedented in its history from the day it had thrown off allegiance to Rome. Without hesitation or delay every patriotic Britisher having no binding ties to hold him, in company with many tens of thousands who had, rushed to seek out recruiting officers or sergeants in order that their services might be proffered in the service of their country. So great and clamorous were the crowds in the big cities that the police had much ado to preserve and maintain order.

The Government was not prepared for anything like it. It had made no provision in equipment or supplies to cope with the stream of men so eager to join the colours. Long before arrangements could be made to enrol the first batches of