those late Victorian days, to see the looming menace of Prussian
paganism and the conquer-lust of the Hohenzollerns, which has
plunged the whole world in war.

II

OXFORD

February, 1917

The "Schools" building, though modern, is one of the stateliest
on the Main Street. Here, in old peaceful times, the university
examinations used to be held. Now it is transformed into a hospital
for the wounded men from the fighting front of freedom.

Sir William Osier, Canadian, and world-renowned physician, is my
guide, an old friend in Baltimore, now Regius Professor of Medicine
in Oxford.

"Come," he says, "I want you to see an example of the Carrel
treatment of wounds."

The patient is sitting up in bed--a fine young fellow about twenty
years old. A shrapnel-shell, somewhere in France, passed over his
head and burst just behind him. His bare back is a mass of scars.
The healing fluid is being pumped in through the shattered elbow
of his right arm, not yet out of danger.

"Does it hurt," I ask.