The Inner Life

the fluttering of flags. At last they begin to understand that their “great” men are merely greatly advertised. All are faced with problems which they cannot solve—economic, financial, national—they drift from bad to worse.

Of a multitude of words, there are none worth recording. Men are sick of words; they call for one who shall show them Wisdom. We may not compel men to righteousness by legislation; no nation can be tricked into altruism by a treaty. The way of change from misery to happiness lies through a change of heart—there is no other panacea.

Tradition has it that in the hour of need, one comes who can answer the call: were it not so, most nations would perish prematurely and few would reach their prime. But nations reach and pass their prime. In Europe to-day, all are morally and spiritually decadent. Casting covetous eyes upon their neighbour’s lot, their minds jaundiced with suspicion and distrust and busied with the dark designs of death, they plot and scheme for mutual destruction.

Because of these things destruction shall overtake them. They who think thoughts of Death shall drink from his cup. Because of these things they produce no Liberator; their leaders are impotent, their statesmanship is akin to madness. Because of these things, when they cry for help none will deliver them.

In order that men may progress, that tolerance and sanity and the love of simple things may be preserved, the civilizations of Europe must be melted and re-moulded. In all their essentials they are evil: the principles upon which they are upreared are rotten; therefore their fruit is bitterness and they must be destroyed. The Race or