THAT really is the essence of the matter, the summing up of the World War in an illuminating phrase. The Machine versus the Man! Before the outbreak of war, in those far-off days when we talked so glibly of human progress and civilization, the machinery which controlled and coÖrdinated life seemed to be a bigger thing than life itself. The Machine in politics, in our myriad industries, in our moments of relaxation was scrapping men relentlessly. The very few perceived this and protested vigorously, but quite in vain. Even in religion, using the word in its highest sense, the Machine held human souls in its grip and ground them out to an approved pattern.

Was the war inflicted upon a generation of fools to teach them wisdom? It may well be so.

Et propter vitam vivendi perdere causas!

Juvenal’s well-worn tag echoes down the centuries. We ask ourselves once more the eternal question: What makes life worth the living? None of us, to-day, dares to answer that question lightly, but all—even our enemies in the field—know by bitterest experience that Man is greater than the Machine, that he soars high above it and may be crushed but not killed by it. Humanity may be torpedoed, but it remains immortal.

Our beloved dead still live.

And what message do they send us?

Surely the gospel of kindness, which has always triumphed gloriously over cruelty. Indeed, the supreme lesson of the war would appear to be this, and this only: that kindness is the supreme virtue and cruelty the supreme vice.

If our enemies could be made to realize so fundamental a truth, if the men who control the destinies of the Allies could make it plain to the Central Powers that we are fighting against the Machine in life and not against men, the Dove of Peace might begin to preen its wings for flight.

Humanity has been torpedoed, but we look for its resurrection. Petard must be hoisted by petard; that, for the moment, is inevitable. A patched-up peace is unthinkable. Such a conclusion, most happily, has become almost universal.

And afterward?

If the hopes and aspirations of to-day bear fruit to-morrow, may we not envisage a brighter future during these dark hours?

To think otherwise, to maintain, with whatever specious argument, that Force must dominate mankind, is not merely a negation of Christianity, but a negation of Humanity. Such is the creed of the Hun. By it he has been judged and found wanting.

HORACE ANNESLEY VACHELL.