vied with tradition to block the path
of military and industrial preparation.

Then the Lion stirred; the sloth fell away; men and munitions were
enlisted; the strong hand was put on labour tyranny; conscription
succeeded the haphazard voluntary system. Britain got busy and she has
buzzed ever since.

When the kingdom had become a huge arsenal; when the old sex differences
vanished under the touchstone of a common peril; when the first khaki
host swept to its place in the battle line, and the grey fleets were
once more queens of the seas, England turned to the task of commercial
rebuilding, once neglected, but thenceforth to be part and parcel of
British purpose.

Animating this purpose, stirring it like a vast emotion, was the New
Battle Cry of Empire--the kindling Creed of United Dominions,
consecrated to the economic mastery of the world.

But this revival was not an overnight performance. If you know England
you also know that it takes a colossal jolt to stir the British mind.
The war had been in full swing for over a year and the countryside was
an armed camp before the realisation of what might happen commercially
after the war soaked into the average islander's consciousness.

Under the impassioned eloquence of Lloyd George the munition workers had
been marshalled into an inspired working host; with the magic of
Kitchener's name, the greatest of all voluntary armies came into being.
But it remained for Hughes, of Australia, to point out the fresh path
for the feet of the race.

Who is Hughes, of Australia? You need not ask in England, for the story
of his advent, the record of his astounding triumph, the thrilling
message that he left implanted in the British breast, constitute one of
the miracles of a war that is one long succession of dramatic episodes.
This Colonial Prime Minister arrived unknown: he left a popular hero.

Thanks to him, Australia was prepared for war; and when the Mother
Lioness sent out the world call to her cubs beyond the seas there was
swift response from the men of bush and range. The world knows what the
Anzacs did in the Dardanelles; how they registered a monster heroism on
the rocky heights of Gallipoli; gave a new glory to British arms.

England rang with their achievements. What could she do to pay tribute
to their courage? Hughes was their national leader and spokesman; so the
Political Powers That Be said:

"Let us invite the Premier to sit in the councils of the empire