-burst. Near them lay yet another shape, a mangled heap,
one muddy hand yet grasping muddy rifle, while, beneath the other lay
the fragment of a sodden letter--probably the last thing those dying
eyes had looked upon.

Death in horrible shape was all about me. I saw the work wrought by
shrapnel, by gas, and the mangled red havoc of high explosive. I only
seemed unreal, like one that walked in a nightmare. Here and there
upon this sea of mud rose the twisted wreckage of aeroplanes, and
from where I stood I counted five, but as I tramped on and on these
five grew to nine. One of these lying upon my way I turned aside to
glance at, and stared through a tangle of wires into a pallid thing
that had been a face once comely and youthful; the leather jacket had
been opened at the neck for the identity disc, as I suppose, and
glancing lower, I saw that this leather jacket was discoloured,
singed, burnt--and below this, a charred and unrecognisable mass.

Is there a man in the world to-day who, beholding such horrors, would
not strive with all his strength to so order things that the hell of
war should be made impossible henceforth? Therefore, I have recorded
in some part what I have seen of war.

So now, all of you who read, I summon you in the name of our common
humanity, let us be up and doing. Americans--Anglo-Saxons, let our
common blood be a bond of brotherhood between us henceforth, a bond
indissoluble. As you have now entered the war, as you are now our
allies in deed as in spirit, let this alliance endure hereafter.
Already there is talk of some such League, which, in its might and
unity, shall secure humanity against any recurrence of the evils the
world now groans under. Here is a noble purpose, and I conceive it
the duty of each one of us, for the sake of those who shall come
after, that we should do something to further that which was once
looked upon as only an Utopian dream--the universal Brotherhood of
Man.

"The flowers o' the forest are a' faded away."

Far and wide they lie, struck down in the flush of manhood, full of
the joyous, unconquerable spirit of youth. Who knows what noble
ambitions once were theirs, what splendid works they might not have
wrought? Now they lie, each poor, shattered body a mass of loathsome
corruption. Yet that diviner part, that no bullet may slay, no steel
rend or mar, has surely entered into the fuller living, for Death is
but the gateway into Life and infinite possibilit