The Hive

ry of goods, the chaos of multiplied things. But at the blackest, in the very hush of desolation, the new breath stole in upon us, a breath of lilacs on the chill, dank, wintry air

ealise that we were prevented from expressing what we thought, by the very forces that had drawn us into this deep trouble. We who are the distant generation of a party

iscu

with heavy half-dead legs and heads like pitching-quoits, settling our sacred future on the basis of steel and coal and margin and murder market; to feel ourselves clutched and borne forward with stub-nailed fingers in the stench of big business; black-garbed shopmen pointing the way to the ports,

of the vile example of her organic sloth; in whose walled garden we learned the peril and the passion of Quest, because we loathed her long snoring of afternoons; from the d

l. The Old nourished and fertilised all its vitalities. The new green beneath the litter of dead leaves cries out under the decay, "You are stifl

We believed it would be a war with morale before the destruction was finished. One of the cleanest dreams we had was that America would bring, with its guns and knives and instruments of flagellation, something of the almighty spirit of the human

night it will be well to point out that this planet will be a whole lot more religio

f man to God. You take a loved object from the Seen and place it in the Unseen (thousands each day the soldiers pass) and faith is born of the agony of separation. The human he

ints and sages have dreamed of as the consummation of the human heart. And those who have lost

in five is gone-then you begin to know what an Austrian woman meant, when she spoke of the "horrible grinding of war and the answer of the women to man's cries of pain afield

ound of all uttered names to many a lonely heart to-day. We didn't know enough about death. We had the habit

im borderland-there's a straining of eyes into the Unseen, a picture making out of the crea

answer to Master Pain must look to death to find their relation to God. The faith that comes with peace at last to the human heart, is energised by a love that crosses the abyss of life and death.... A grand old teacher, Master Pain. When we kn

re, something rough and deep and wise in his look. The child suffered vaguely. There was much suffering in the house.... The young mother asked coldly if they could feel him in the room. Then just as coldly she asked if there w

f the chast

ght to find a vision or a memory or a breath of God. The old man and the old woman looked so long at each other in the darkness-that the soul of the son o

humanity's soul. If America is fighting for humanity, let it be w

the man should learn the world. You can never be the great lover of America by hating the rest of the world; no human mind can see what is best, what is even goo

s, as well as the pawns of the Balkans and the Levant, were puppets alike, churned together in a great planetary cleansing. Every partisan path was found to be increasingly crooked the farther one advanced-and a sheer descent at the last. Any national point of view used to dupe the peopl

y men who wanted their way-in the main, groups of leaders devoid of vision and the spirit of fraternity, and careless of the welfare of the people, quite the same as many great commercial organisations.... The real enemies of any people are groups of men who want things for themsel

do away with boundaries and hatred and preying, to strike the spear from the hand of man and leave it free to help his neighbour, to establish democracy in the place of imperialism, and fraternity upon the solid footing

was his nearest disciple, also a Persian; in fact, the young man was so loved that he had been changed from discipleship into sonship. This young Pers

has learned Action. These two must meet and mate again for the glory of God and the splendour of earth. The East has lifted its soul to the hills and held fast to its memory of the Father's house. The West has descended into the folds of the valle