first magnitude will shine with the glory of such a victory for democratic ideas as we have not seen, or expected to see, in our generation; on the other, its bale-fire will blaze upon the overthrow of all great ideals, the destruction of a weak nation by a powerful one, and the triumph of that policy of “blood and iron” from which every enlightened man of this age shrinks with horror.  The situation cannot be stated in simpler terms; no words can make it less than tremendous; and it is demanded from us to make it personal—­as personal to ourselves as it is to the King of England, the Emperor of Germany, or the Czar of all the Russias.

They live who, when this far-flung agony of war is ended, when the last hero has fallen and lies in his grave, when the final cannon has sounded its knell, must be called upon to make the great peace.  They live who will weave a shroud of death for the exhausted world, or plant the tree of life upon her bosom; and since we, inspired by the splendor of our cause, are assured that the day-spring will be ours, we already feel and know that we shall see that tree of life planted.  But do we also feel and know that we must help to plant it, that the labor and toil of each of us is vital, that none is so weak but that there is a part of that planting for which he was born, a part consecrated to his individual effort, a part that will go undone if he does not do it?

Look to yourself, man, woman, child, that with heart and soul and strength you perform your part in the great world work lying ahead; remember that not princes and rulers, not regiments of your kinsmen, not the armed might of nations can do your appointed task for you.  Fail of it, and by so much will the life tree lack in her planting; succeed, and by so much will she be the more splendid and secure.  Her name is Freedom and her fruits are for the weak and humble as well as the strong and great, for the foolish as well as the wise, for all subjects as well as for all States.  Put out your power, then, for that most sacred tree; deny yourself no pang that she may flourish; labor according to your strength that her blossom shall win the worship of humanity and her fruit be worthy of the blood of heroes that has poured for her planting.

Much we hear of the Will to Power, and because that great impulse has lifted our enemies on the full flood tide of their might and manhood in one overwhelming torrent, Germany has been condemned.  But not for her united effort and whole-hearted sacrifice should we condemn her—­not for her patriotism and response to the call.  Her reply is wholly magnificent, and it only stands condemned for the evil ends and ignoble ambitions toward which it is directed.  The spectacle of a great nation at one, inspired by a single ideal and pouring its life, its wealth, its energy, with a single impulse in the name of the Fatherland can only be called sublime.  The tragedy lies in the fact that this stupendous effort is not worthy of the cause; that for false hopes, false ambitions and mistaken sense of right and justice Germany has wasted her life and given her soul.