which the nation is passing. Of course, one ought not to wish it
otherwise. Not, indeed, "sweet," but eminently salutary, are these
"uses of adversity," for they prevent us from forgetting, even if
we were inclined to such base obliviousness, the grim realities
of the strife in which we are engaged. And yet, and in spite of
all this, beauty retains its sway over "the common heart of man."
Even war cannot destroy, though it may temporarily obscure, the
beauty of Nature; and the beauty of Art is only waiting for the
opportunity of Peace to reassert itself.

To the prevailing uncomeliness of this war-stricken time a welcome
exception has been made by the patriotic pageantry which, during
the week now closed, has been enacted at Queen's Hall.[*] There
were critics, neither malicious nor ill-informed, who contended
that such pageantry was ill-timed. They advanced against it all
sorts of objections which would have been quite appropriate if the
public had been bidden to witness some colossal farce or burlesque;
some raree-show of tasteless oddities, or some untimely pantomime
of fairy-lore. What was really intended, and was performed, at a
great cost of toil and organizing skill, was the opposite of all
this. All the best elements of a great and glorious ceremonial
were displayed--colour and form and ordered motion; noble music
set to stirring words; and human voices lifted even above their
ordinary beauty by the emotion of a high occasion. The climax,
wisely ordered, was our tribute of gratitude to the United States,
and never did the "Battle-hymn of the Republic" sound its trumpets
more exultingly. For once, the word "Ritual" might with perfect
propriety be separated from its controversial associations, and
bestowed on this great act of patriotic pageantry. It was, in the
truest sense, a religious service, fitly commemorating the entry