The Pomp of Yesterday

by Joseph Hocking

As all the world knows, the events of the 1917 have followed each other with startling and almost bewildering rapidity. Indeed, from the time when Edgecumbe returned to the front, it is almost impossible to estimate the far-reaching results of what was taking place. The evacuation of large tracts of land by the Germans, the giving up of their Somme front, was more significant than we at the time realized. Then came the fulfilment of the German threat that on February 1 there would be unrestricted murder at sea, when vessels of all nationality, whether neutral or otherwise, would be attacked. At first we could scarcely believe it, it seemed too horrible to contemplate. War had ceased to be war; 'rules of the game' were no longer known as far as the Germans were concerned. Then came the Prime Minister's statement that the food supplies of the country had become very low, and that the strictest economy would have to be used. Appeals were made to the nation to conserve all our food resources, while the Germans jubilantly proclaimed that in three months we should be starved into submission.

'I suppose,' Edgecumbe wrote, 'that it is bad form on my part to say "I told you so"; but I saw this coming months ago. Indeed, no one could have an intelligent appreciation of German psychology without knowing that it must come. I am told that food is now only obtainable at famine prices at home, and that there is a cry on every hand,—"Eat less bread." But think of the mockery of it, my friend! While there is a threatened bread famine, beer is still manufactured. And that which was intended to provide food for the people is being used to make beer. If the Germans bring us to our knees, it will be our own fault. If the resources of the nation had not been squandered in this way, we could laugh at all the Germans say they are going to do.'

Then news came which staggered Europe and set the world wondering. The Revolution had broken out in Russia,—the Czar and Czarina became practically prisoners, the Russian bureaucracy fell, and although the Revolution was practically bloodless, that great Empire was reduced to a state of chaos. Of course our newspapers made it appear as though everything were in our favour; that the old days of corruption and Czardom were over, and that the people, freed from the tyranny and the ghastly incubus of autocracy, would now rise in their might and their millions, and would retrieve what they had lost in the Eastern lines. Some prophesied that the Revolution in Russia was but the beginning of a movement which should destroy all autocratic Governments and, with the establishment of that movement, the end of war would come. Then little by little it leaked out that liberty had become a licence,—that the Russian Army had become disorganized,—that the Socialistic element among the Russians had demanded peace at any price. Soldiers refused to fight, men deserted by the thousand, while Russian soldiers fraternized with the Germans.

'Aren't we living in great times,' Edgecumbe wrote to me,—'surely the greatest times ever known! They stagger the imagination,—they leave our minds bewildered,—they shatter our little plans like a strong wind destroys castles of cards made by children. God is speaking, my friend. Will England be wise, and hear His voice? Will we learn that, although the voice of great guns is loud, and the power of explosives mighty, yet they are not final in the affairs of men and nations? Why, our plans out here have been blown to smithereens by what has taken place many hundreds of miles away! We had everything in readiness, and, humanly speaking, it seemed as though nothing could have stopped our advance. We had the Germans on toast,—we took Vimy Ridge, and Lens was in our grasp,—we had advanced miles along the Douay road, and Lille seemed but the matter of a few days. Then God spoke, and Ecco! what were the plans of men? The Huns, of course, took advantage of the new situation, and removed vast hordes of men and guns from the East to the West, and now we are held up. Of course I am disappointed;—looking at the matter from the standpoint of a soldier, it seemed as though nothing could withstand us. But what are the plans of men when God speaks?

'Of course you will say that I am seeming to prove that God is on the side of the Germans and, seeing this Russian Revolution has meant our being held up here, that God Almighty meant that we should not advance. No, my friend, I am not such a fool as to pretend to understand the ways of the Omnipotent, but I have no doubt that this wide and far-reaching movement in Russia will eventually be on our side. It must be. But why will not England learn the lesson which is so plainly written from sky to sky? Why do not the people turn to God,—look to Him for wisdom, and fight in His strength? Then victory would come soon, and gloriously.

'As I said, I am disappointed at our temporary check, but I am convinced it is only temporary. God does things in a big way. He staggers our poor little puny minds by His acts. The world is being re-made; old systems, hoary with age, are being destroyed. The birth of new movements is on foot, new thoughts are in the air, new dreams are being dreamed, and the new age is surely coming. But sometimes it seems as though we have ears, and hear not,—eyes, and see not. God is speaking to us aloud, calling us to repentance, and yet we do not hear His voice, or seek His guidance. Still, we are on the eve of new movements, and out of all the confusion will come a great order, and men will yet see the hand of the Lord.'

His letter had scarcely reached me, when the news came that America had declared war on Germany, and was to act on the side of the Allies. This great free people, numbering a hundred million souls, made up of all nationalities, yet welded into one great nation, had spoken, and had spoken on the side of freedom and righteousness. Even the few who had been downhearted took fresh courage at America's action. The thought that the United States, with its almost illimitable resources of men, of money, and of potentialities, was joining hands with us, made everything possible. I was not surprised at receiving another letter from Edgecumbe.

'At last we have had a prophetic utterance,' he wrote. 'Wilson has spoken, not merely as a politician, or as the head of the American nation, but as a prophet of God. His every word made my nerves tingle, my heart warm. As an Englishman, I felt jealous, and I asked why, during these last months, there had been no voice heard in England, proclaiming the idealism, the inwardness of this gigantic struggle? But as a citizen of the world, I rejoiced with a great joy. I am inclined to think that Wilson's speech will form a new era in the history of men. That for which he contends will slowly percolate through the nations, and peoples of every clime will know and understand that nothing can resist the will of Almighty God.

'What pigmies we are, and for how little do the plans of individuals count! God speaks, and lo the pomp of the Czar becomes but as chaff which the wind drives away! Who would have believed a few months ago that all the so-called glory of the Imperial House of the Romanoffs would become the dream of yesterday? All the long line of Royal sons no longer counts. Czardom with all it meant has gone for ever. The man, whose word a few weeks ago meant glory or shame, life or death, is to-day an exile, a prisoner. His word no more than the cry of a puling child! And to-morrow? God may speak again, and then Kaiserism will fall with all its pomp and vanity.

'Of course I am but a poor ignorant soldier, and my word cannot count for much; but I have a feeling that before many years are over,—perhaps it may be only a matter of months—the Kaiser will either die by his own hand, or else God, through the millions of bereaved and heart-broken people, will hurl him from his throne.