To win this war our girls and women must join the world movement. The outstanding lesson of the first two years of the war for Great Britain and France is that the beginning of their victories came with the entrance of women into the war. The steel wedge splits the log, not alone by the sharp edge, but the thick head that crowds forward the cutting edge. The American army is the cutting edge, but the one hundred millions of people behind lend driving power to our regiments. There are three million women in Great Britain either in the munition factories or industries allied thereto. Every twenty-four hours they produce more small cartridges than all England did the first year of the war. Every two days they turn out more large cartridges than all England did the first year of this war. Every six days, with the help of expert men, they produce more heavy ordnance and cannon than all England did the first year of this war. These English women pour the molten steel, tool the shells, run the lathes, make the aeroplanes, mix the explosives, and they literally hand the shells to the British soldiers to aim the cannon. They are driving the munition trucks upon the streets of England and the road to France, they are sowing the fields, reaping the wheat, threshing the grain, and performing ten thousand tasks once given over to men. The daughters of professional men, bankers, manufacturers, as well as of the business classes, are helping to equip the soldiers at the front. If our government should to-morrow commandeer ten thousand luxury-making plants for munition factories, throw them open to millions of women, by next autumn we should be doing our part to help win this war. To-day the clouds are thick, but better days are coming. For a time it may be our lot to toil on in the wilderness, but soon or late the pilgrim host will enter the Promised Land and hang out the signals of victory. Those who war for justice and humanity find that the stars in their courses fight with them, and their soldiers shall be fed on angels' bread. Truth is stronger than error, liberty is stronger than tyranny, justice is the genius of our universe, God is omnipotent, and at last, love and sympathy must prevail. In this faith we must strive on for a peace that shall defend frontier lines, vindicate the rights of little peoples and destroy militarism and autocracy. During the January snowstorms, that noble surgeon and poet, at the head of a hospital at Vimy Ridge,--Dr. now Sir Andrew Macphail--wrote me a letter which stayed my heart as the anchor holds the ship in time of storm. The ground was deep with snow. Many wounded men had been brought in from the trench. But at midnight, while the winter's wind flapped his tent, the physician wrote me thus: