To those who fall, I say: "You will not die, but step into immortality. Your mothers will not lament your fate, but will be proud to have borne such sons. Your names will be revered for ever by your grateful country, and God will take you unto Himself." Canadians, in this fateful hour, I command you and I trust you to fight as you have ever fought, with all your strength, with all your determination, with all your tranquil courage. On many a hard-fought field of battle you have overcome this enemy, and with God's help you shall achieve victory once more. (Sgd.) A. W. CURRIE, Lieut.-Gen. Commanding Canadian Corps THE SOUL OF A NATION (_March 28, 1918_) The little things of which we lately chattered-- The dearth of taxis or the dawn of spring; Themes we discussed as though they really mattered, Like rationed meat or raiders on the wing;-- How thin it seems to-day, this vacant prattle, Drowned by the thunder rolling in the West, Voice of the great arbitrament of battle That puts our temper to the final test. Thither our eyes are turned, our hearts are straining, Where those we love, whose courage laughs at fear, Amid the storm of steel around them raining Go to their death for all we hold most dear. New born of this supremest hour of trial, In quiet confidence shall be our strength, Fixed on a faith that will not take denial Nor doubt that we have found our soul at length. O England, staunch of nerve and strong of sinew, Best when you face the odds and stand at bay, Now show a watching world what stuff is in you; Now make your soldiers proud of you to-day! SIR OWEN SEAMAN _Reprinted by permission of London "Punch"_ THE LIVING LINE (_March, 1918_) As long as faith and freedom last, And earth goes round the sun, This stands--The British line held fast And so the fight was won. The greatest fight that ever yet Brought all the world to dearth; A fight of two great nations set To battle for the earth. And one was there with blood aflame To make the earth his tool; And one was there in freedom's name That mercy still should rule. It was a line, a living line Of Britain's gallant youth That fought the Prussian one to nine And saved the world for ruth. That bleeding line, that falling fence, That stubborn ebbing wave, That string of suffering human sense, Shuddered, but never gave. A living line of human flesh, It quivered like a brain; Swarm after swarm came on afresh And crashed, but crashed in vain. Outnumbered by the mightiest foe That ever sought to put The world in chains, they met the blow And fought him foot by foot.