A little Island in northern waters, clothed often in fogs, small in extent, crowded in population, without the means “aboard” of feeding its own people;--yet, from that same little Island are extended wide sheltering Wings around the whole globe, guarding her Dependencies, warning off interference on the part of other Powers. So that, in the infancy of many a young Daughter-land, and even in later more vigorous growth, the Children have been protected; and no man, no potentate, whatever his ambitions might be, has dared to lay a finger on them. But the benefit is not all or only on one side. As years go by, children repay their parents’ care. These young sheltered lands across the Ocean are growing strong. And in the day when the Mother-land found herself in difficulties, they joyously sprang one and all to her help, giving freely of their time, their money, their strength, their bravest and best, their very life-blood, in her service. God-given, surely, is this mighty Empire into the hands of the Anglo-Saxon Race, to be used for God and for the good of Man, to be governed in the Name and in the Spirit of Christ. It is a marvellous and unique sight. A world-wide Empire of modern days; divided by broad extents of Ocean; held together, not by fear, not by the sword, not by the iron heel of despotism, not even primarily by self-interest, but by Bonds of Love. A congeries of free Nations, Mother and Children, united into ONE, by the noblest and purest of all ties; having had through over sixty years for its centre, for the controlling idea and motive of Empire, a Woman of tender heart and Royal spirit, a Queenly figure on Her Throne, to whom those hundreds of millions in many Lands were dear, since one and all they were to Her--“My People.” And though She has passed away, that thought has been taken up by Her Royal successor, one of whose first Kingly utterances was in the form of letters addressed--not only to “My People,” but to “My People beyond the Seas.” Thus around the whole world, in every zone, through both hemispheres, about every ocean, the Union Jack never ceases to flutter in the breeze. A Frenchman lately, speaking in public, described half humorously how, as he journeyed round our globe, at each halting-place, at each coaling-station, he found invariably “that bit of Rag,” so dear to the Briton. And no wonder! for it is the RAG which stands for Freedom. In the lower Creation, under ocean-waters, we have seen how the fierce perpetual struggle for existence goes on; how, with scarcely more than one exception, that of the mother for her little one, each creature lives and thinks and fights for itself alone. But man is capable of better things. A man may forget self for his Country’s sake. He may lose sight of ease and gain, in thought for the poorer, the weaker, the darker tribes of Earth--under that protecting Flag.