Justice will advance many paces by reason of the great injustice of this war. The Law of Opposites again! Most things can be explained by that law. In writing about the reign of brotherhood which I hope to see established in the world, I am not laboring under the delusion that an impossible Utopia is about to be ushered in with a blare of trumpets. I am not recording a prophecy that the Kingdom of Heaven is immediately at hand. The human race is not ready for the Kingdom of Heaven, and will not be ready for a long time; but if one person in ten can be made to realize that brotherhood is an ideal to be striven for, they can leaven the other nine-tenths and make the loaf of human society much lighter and more palatable than it is at present. The loaf will not become fruit-cake all at once. That is too much to expect of the _next_ race; but if you can carry the memory of this prophecy through a sufficient number of births and deaths, you may see a very sweet loaf come from the planetary oven when the second race following, the Seventh, is brought forth into the light of the sun. _April 17._ LETTER XXV FOR LOVE’S SAKE SO serious and philosophical have been my last few letters, that I should like to revel in romance. Have you thought of the hard life of the war-nurses and wondered from whence they gather the strength for their daily and nightly labors? Love is the source of the almost superhuman endurance of many of the women who seem to their charges like angels of light and healing. One nurse whom we will call Mary, for she is a type of the virgin-mother of hearts, has gone out into heaven a hundred times in the souls of those she has tended. Will that love not guard her on earth through the whole course of her life and follow her also into the heaven world beyond? Be sure it will. Mary is neither a scholar nor a poet. You would not have dreamed of inviting her to a reception had her path ever crossed yours; but Mary is not unfit for the society of angels and gods would not scorn to have her in their company. She was just an ordinary nurse before she became a war-nurse, and before the white fire of love touched her personality and burned it up as a sacrifice on the altar of her country’s need. She was a very pretty nurse and in her hours of leisure once wore stylish hats and revelled in laces and furbelows; for the love of beauty and daintiness often nests in a heart that is capable of heroism. When the war broke out Mary was engaged to be married to a soldier. Mary went to the front and he also went to the front; but neither of them knew where the other was for many, many days. Every man who was brought to her severely wounded Mary nursed as if he had been the absent friend of her heart, and many a life she saved by her tender care and by the atmosphere of hope which radiated from her as fragrance from a rose.