nity from realm to realm
and from shore to shore--when you find the German flag banished
from the face of the ocean, who had done it? The British miner
helping the British sailor."

Small wonder that after this effort the miners of Wales should acclaim
their gallant countryman as Industrial Messiah.

You would think that by this time England had made her final tax on the
resource of her Ready Man. But she had not. There came the desolate day
when the news flashed over England that the "Hampshire" had gone down
and with it Kitchener. Following the shock of this blow, greater than
any that German arms could deliver, arose the faltering question, "Who
is there to take his place?"

It did not falter long. Once more the S.O.S. call of a Nation in
Distress flashed out and again the spark found its man. Lloyd George
went from Ministry of Munitions to sit in Kitchener's seat at the War
Office. Unlike the Hero of Khartoum, he had no service in the field to
his credit. But he knew men and he also knew how to deploy them. Just as
he brought the Veterans of Business to sit around the Munitions Board,
so did he now marshal war-tried campaigners for the Strategy Table. The
Somme blow was struck: the new War Chieftain proved his worth.

In the midst of all these new exactions Lloyd George found time for
other and arduous national labours. Two more episodes will serve to
close this narrative of unprecedented achievement.

When the recent Irish Revolt had registered its tragedy of blood, death
and execution, menacing the very structure of Empire, Lloyd George
became the Emissary of Peace to the Isle of Unrest.

Again, when prying peacemakers sought to intrude themselves upon the
nations engaged in a life and death struggle, it was Lloyd George, in a
remarkable interview, who warned all would-be winners of the Nobel prize
that peace talk was unfriendly, that "there was neither clock nor
calendar in the British Army," that the Allies would make it a finish
fight.

So it went until gloom once more took up its abode amid the Allies.
Bucharest fell before the German assault: Greece seethed with the
unhappy mess that Entente diplomacy had made of a great opportunity:
land and sea registered daily some fresh evidence of Teutonic advance.
What was wrong?

England speculated, yet one man knew and that man was Lloyd George. He
realised the futility of a many-headed direction of the war: with his
swift insight he saw the