ation could
stand in the way of her ambition. And so Germany entered Belgium.
What was mercy? What was honour? What was purity? Read the story of
Louvain, of Malines; think of the outrages, cruelties, blasphemies, and
then ask yourself, what could we have done?"

"Yes," said the American; "but war--think of what it has meant."

"Is not there something worse than war?" said Bob.

"What can be worse?" asked Mr. Hiram Scarsfield.

"Violation of honour, of truth, of purity," said the young man
earnestly. "That is worse; yes, and it is worse than war to allow a
cancer like the German war-spirit to live in the very heart of a
continent, making peace and goodwill impossible."

"Yes, young man," replied the American; "you make out a strong case,
and I have no doubt that if a war could be just, England is fighting a
just war. But no war can be just, because every war is born in hell.
As for me, I'm going back to America on my crusade of peace."

"Mr. Scarsfield," said Bob, "may I suggest something to you?"

"Yes; what is it?"

"That you go back to America, and arouse that great Continent to come
and help us in this war for peace. I know your President professes to
be a peace man. But think! You who could do so much to kill war, are
standing by, supine and neutral, while we are shedding our blood to
make war impossible. To me, it is the call of God to every young man
and to every man who has health and strength, to give his life to kill
this war devil at the heart of Europe. And I tell you this, until it
is killed, your talk about peace will be so much wind and useless
sound. America could, if she would, put an end to this war."

"How?" cried the American.

"By, raising an army of millions of men, well accoutred and armed and
provisioned, to come over to help us. If America placed all her mighty
weight on the side of England at this moment, it would paralyse the
German Army. If America said, as we are saying, that this war should
never cease until Germany was powerless ever to make war again, you
would do more for peace than if all the talkers in America were to go
round preaching peace. That is why, Quaker as I am, I am a soldier,
and will remain a soldier as long as God gives me breath, to make peace
not a dream, but a reality."

"But what about the Sermon on the Mount, young man?" said the American.

"What did our Lord mean," urged Bob, "when He said, 'I came not to
bring peace but a sword?' And w