On the one hand is man selfish, greedy, earth-bound, false and sordid in his aims. On the other, at repeated intervals, in great and solemn hours, comes this austere appeal for all he has to give—and he promptly gives it, joyously, willingly, without thought of reward, and derives a greater satisfaction from that self-giving than from all other kinds of gain together. It is deep, mysterious, elusive, this stress of the spirit, but we all know it unmistakably as all generations have known it. There is nothing so strong in human nature as this impulse to fling ourselves away at the bidding of we know not what, the something that incarnates itself now in this cause or objective and now in that, and makes us feel וישלחני אלהים לפניכם לשום לכם שארית בארץ ולהחיות לכם לפליטה גדולה “God hath sent us before you to prepare a permanence on the earth and to save your lives by a great deliverance.” There is nothing so exalting within the totality of human experience as the elevation of soul reached by the one who willingly dies for the sake of the others. How many men of character and intellectual gifts, how many thinkers, writers, artists, how many men fitted to promote the prosperity of their country in industry and commerce have we lost in the War! And how many of the rank and file, men who were distinguished for nothing in their lives so much as the manner of their death! How much poorer the next generation will be! To the memory of them all we give the grateful tribute of saddened and chastened hearts: we remember them all in our prayers, we recall their heroism as we rejoice in their manhood and their glory. Never was a time when so many of our best and noblest have gone from us willingly because they have felt it to be their duty and never was a time when their parents and dear ones have shown such a noble example of uncomplaining patience under a loss which to them was the greatest that any loss could be. We may well feel proud not only of the sons but of the parents that they have willingly given their children and have borne their loss with dignity and resignation, not repining and bewailing their dead, but putting their hands to works of charity and helpfulness. Let us who remain be worthy of those who have been taken, worthy of the country that can rear such children. They have revealed to us the soul of the nation, the soul by which, far more than by its wealth or its prosperity or its material strength, a nation lives: and while the soul of England thus lives, England will maintain her greatness. Let us remember our heroes who have made the supreme sacrifice, not altogether with sorrow, but also with a solemn thankfulness—to God who strengthened them to play their part, to them for their simple example of duty done. The memories of these, our heroes, will for us and for those who come after shine as a holy flame, a light that will burn for ever at the altar of patriotism and of duty.