The right is more precious than peace. We shall fight for the things which we have always carried nearest our hearts. To such a task we dedicate our lives. WOODROW WILSON, 1917. VERDUN She is a wall of brass; You shall not pass! You shall not pass! Spring up like summer grass, Surge at her, mass on mass, Still shall you break like glass, Splinter and break like shivered glass, But pass? You shall not pass! Germans, you shall not, shall not pass! God's hand has written on the wall of brass-- You shall not pass! You shall not pass! The valleys are quaking, The torn hills are shaking, The earth and the sky seem breaking. But unbroken, undoubting, a wonder and sign, She stands, France stands, and still holds to the line. She counts her wounded and her dead; You shall not pass! She sets her teeth, she bows her head; You shall not pass! Till the last soul in the fierce line has fled, You shall not pass! Help France? Help France? Who would not, thanking God for this great chance, Stretch out his hands and run to succor France? HAROLD BEGBIE. THE BEAST IN MAN A German leader once said, "The oldest right in the world is the right of the strongest." This is true and will always continue to be true as long as the world is made up only of inanimate matter and lifeless forces and of living, thinking beings who consider "the strongest" as meaning the powers or things that can cause the greatest destruction and the most terrible evil. The beasts recognize these as the strongest, and without question admit that the oldest right in the world is the chief right in the world. But as men have become civilized, they have come to fear destruction, and even the loss of life, less and less, and have learned to feel the strength of beauty, truth, justice, mercy, purity, and innocence. So it comes to pass that Robert Burns mourns when his plow turns under a mountain daisy or destroys the home of a field mouse. Because he feels the influence of the innocent and the helpless, the "wee, modest, crimson-tipped flower" and the "wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie," he gives us two of the most beautiful poems in the English language, poems that, by the power of their tenderness, truth, and beauty, have brought tears to the eyes of many a strong, brave man who feared no enemy. Such was the power of Joan of Arc when she led the French soldiers to battle and to victory,--simply the power of her belief and her faith, for she was a simple, untrained peasant girl, knowing nothing of how battles are to be won. Such is the power of the English nurse, Edith Cavell, executed by the Germans as a spy, because she helped English and Belgians to escape from the German horrors in Belgium by crossing the line into Holland.