A BURMESE ENCHANTMENT.
There are two attitudes towards the war which I seem to share in common with every one else. One is a feeling of pride and satisfaction at living to see England ennobled by the magnificence of her sacrifice, to see even mediocre men die like heroes just because they are British. This is the healthy, after-breakfast attitude. But before breakfast there is only a gloomy regret at having ever lived to see the whole fabric of civilization crumble, to see dear friends slaughtered in turn in this merciless machine of destruction, to see happy homes you knew in England desolate. It is heart-breaking to watch our women suffer silently. It is maddening to have to witness wholesale barbarities, to see Belgium ravished, Poland destroyed, whole cities of Armenians taken out to sea and drowned. Let us never forget that to-day the Germans applaud all this. It is infuriating to hear countless individual stories of lust and crime and " fright fulness." It is all a dirty business. Never before in history have Englishmen loathed an enemy as one loathes a ieptile. Unbalanced by their licence hundreds of German soldiers have committed suicide. Truly Kipling rightly foretold all this in those prophetic lines :a
"Our world has passed away In wantonness o'erthrown There is nothing left to-day But steel and Are and stone.'1
Nothing left. It is well. For a new England is risingahas already risen, phoenix-wiseafrom the ashes.Nothing left. It is well. For a new England is risinga has already risen, phoenix-wisea from the ashes.