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THE KING’S BUSINESS respect the rights of other people, and even when wronged deal temperately and calmly and reasonably with the wrongs done us; and see that they are righted in answer to reason and not in answer to force and foolish bravado, neither a large army nor navy are needed. Humanly speaking, the probability is that when the present war is over the nations will have had enough of war to satisfy them for some time to' come, and there never was a time in our history when a colossal army or a colossal navy were less needed than today. If we had had them during the last two years, we would probably have been in the war by this time, and our having escaped the scourge of war is not altogether due to our having had a calm, and reasonable, and righteous President, though it is in a measure due to that fact, but it is also due to our not being in shape to go to war, for which every lover of country, and lover of his fellowman ought to devoutly thank God. ---------------O --------------- A LENTEN LITANY DR. S. J. MAHER, in the N. Y. World ly rO S T HIGH, Our God, W e are but quickened clay And you are God. You keep the stars alight, For you are God. You made and blessed our day, And this our earth bedight, For love o f us. You wrought a mother’s voice,. The evening hill to blush, The heart o f man to know; Then teach us how to crush This leering monster, Hate. But yesterday from hell— Unloosed by men called,great— Today its blazing breath Has charred men’s minds, has speared
Men’s souls, has cracked the spell O f faith your saints had reared, Has stilled our youth in death— Have mercy, Lord. Supreme, Our God. Your footfalls are the ages, Your songs the Milky Way, Your smiles our joy o f right. Then come, dear Lord, Oh, come where murder rages; Again on Easter Day, Show man your loving might. Almighty G od !
You gave her tenderness, You led her to rejoice, In writhing pain and stress
For you, O Lord. Have pity, Lord,
For, see, in winter’s flood, Our women weep alone— Their pride has left their blood, Their babes to wolves are thrown— *Heed them, O Lord. All Wise, Our God, You taught'the rose to blow,
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