ace before.

The papers set forth that, during the receptions of the Tsar, who is
travelling about Russia for the purpose of hypnotizing the men who are
being sent to murder, indescribable enthusiasm is manifested amongst the
people. As a matter of fact, something quite different is being
manifested. From all sides one hears reports that in one place three
Reservists have hanged themselves; in another spot, two more; in yet
another, about a woman whose husband had been taken away bringing her
children to the conscription committee-room and leaving them there; while
another hanged herself in the yard of the military commander. All are
dissatisfied, gloomy, exasperated. The words, "For the Faith, the King,
and the Fatherland," the National Anthem, and shouts of "Hurrah" no
longer act upon people as they once did. Another warfare of a different
kind--the struggling consciousness of the deceit and sinfulness of the
work to which people are being called--is more and more taking possession
of the people.

Yes, the great strife of our time is not that now taking place between
the Japanese and the Russians, nor that which may blaze up between the
white and yellow races, not that strife which is carried on by mines,
bombs, bullets, but that spiritual strife which without ceasing has gone
on and is now going on between the enlightened consciousness of mankind
now waiting for manifestation and that darkness and that burden which
surrounds and oppresses mankind.

In His own time Jesus yearned in expectation, and said, "I came to cast
fire upon the earth, and how I wish that it were already kindled." Luke
xii. 49.

That which Jesus longed for is being accomplished, the fire is being
kindled. Then do not let us check it, but let us spread and serve it.

13 May, 1904.

I should never finish this paper if I were to continue to add to it all
that corroborates its essential idea. Yesterday the news came in of the
sinking of the Japanese ironclads; and in the so-called higher circles of
Russian fashionable, rich, intellectual society they are, without the
slightest conscientious scruples, rejoicing at the destruction of a
thousand human lives. Yet to-day I have received from a simple seaman, a
man standing on the lowest plane of society, the following letter:[3]

"Much respected Lyof Nikolaevitch, I greet you with a low bow, with love,
much respected Lyof Nikolaevitch. I have read your book. It was very
pleasant reading for me. I