No man in the history of the world has ever laboured more strenuously or more successfully than my right honourable friend, Sir Edward Grey, for that which is the supreme interest of the modern world--a general and abiding peace. It is, I venture to think, a very superficial criticism which suggests that, under his guidance, the policy of this country has ignored, still less that it has counteracted and hampered, the Concert of Europe. It is little more than a year ago that under his presidency, in the stress and strain of the Balkan crisis, the Ambassadors of all the Great Powers met here day after day, curtailing the area of possible differences, reconciling warring ambitions and aims, and preserving, against almost incalculable odds, the general harmony. And it was in the same spirit, and with the same purpose, when a few weeks ago Austria delivered her ultimatum to Servia, that the Foreign Secretary--for it was he--put forward the proposal for a mediating Conference between the four Powers who were not directly concerned--Germany, France, Italy, and ourselves. If that proposal had been accepted actual controversy would have been settled with honour to everybody, and the whole of this terrible welter would have been avoided. With whom does the responsibility rest for its refusal and for all the illimitable suffering which now confronts the world? One Power, and one Power only, and that Power is Germany. That is the fount and origin of this world-wide catastrophe. We are persevering to the end. No one who has not been confronted, as we were, with the responsibility of determining the issues of peace and war can realise the strength and energy and persistency with which we laboured for peace. We persevered by every expedient that diplomacy could suggest, straining almost to the breaking point our most cherished friendships and obligations, even to the last making effort upon effort, and hoping against hope. Then, and only then, when we were at last compelled to realise that the choice lay between honour and dishonour, between treachery and good faith--when we at last reached the dividing line which makes or mars a nation worthy of the name, it was then, and then only, that we declared for war. Is there anyone in this hall, or in this United Kingdom, or in the vast Empire of which we here stand in the capital and centre, who blames or repents our decision? (Cries of "No!") For these reasons, as I believe, we must steel ourselves to the task, and in the spirit which animated our forefathers in their struggle against the domination of Napoleon, we must, and we shall, persevere to the end. At the Guildhall, as in the House of Commons, the Prime Minister referred to the noble example shown by the Belgian people in summoning all their available forces to repel the aggression of a Power which had been presumed to be friendly. He said: