FORCE APPLAUDED
Robert Barr, the author, has a part in an anecdote which throws light upon England’s present craze for the sinews of war:
When Mr. Barr was teaching school in Canada, an old college friend of his came along with a stereopticon, giving talks on Europe. The lecturer always finished with the thrilling recital of an anecdote about Queen Victoria. The Alake of Abeokuta visited her and asked, “What is the cause of England’s greatness?” The good queen handed him a Bible, which was in readiness to present him, saying, “This is the reason of England’s greatness.” The dramatic device was always exceedingly effective.
When the lecturer came around to Barr’s district, the lantern-operator was ill, and Barr was implored to take his place, which he consented to do. All went well until the grand finale arrived, when Barr maliciously substituted another picture for that of the Bible. “This,” cried the fervid orator, “is the secret of England’s greatness!” and was horrified on glancing up at the screen to see before him a picture of the gigantic battleship Consternation. The audience, which did not know the story of the Bible, cheered vociferously, rose to its feet, and sang “Rule Britannia” in a most warlike voice.
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FORCE, LIVING
Look at a full-sized oak, the rooted Leviathan of the fields. Judging by your senses and by the scales, you would say that the substance of the noble tree was its bulk of bark and bough and branch and leaves and sap, the cords of woody and moist matter that compose it and make it heavy. But really its substance is that which makes it an oak, that which weaves its bark and glues it to the stem, and wraps its rings of fresh wood around the trunk every year, and pushes out its boughs and clothes its twigs with digestive leaves and sucks up nutriment from the soil continually, and makes the roots clench the ground with their fibrous fingers as a purchase against the storm wind, and at last holds aloft its tons of matter against the constant tug and wrath of gravitation, and swings its Briarean arms in triumph over the globe and in defiance of the gale. Were it not for this energetic essence that crouches in the acorn and stretches its limbs every year, there would be no oak; the matter that clothes it would enjoy its stupid slumber; and when the forest monarch stands up in his sinewy lordliest pride, let the pervading life-power, and its vassal forces that weigh nothing at all, be annihilated, and the whole structure would wither in a second to inorganic dust. So every gigantic fact in nature is the index and vesture of a gigantic force.—Thomas Starr King.
(1125)
Force Unavailable—See [Loyalty].
FORCES, LATENT