The copper era and Morenci leader., 1918-08-09
2,5O0,O00

2,500,000
 Of these at least one-fifth must be counted among the dead. So half a million gallant men of the British em- pire are lying in their graves all over the world or hidden forever in the ter rible and mysterious depths of the sea, while more than another half million are so maimed and broken that they can never again be counted as useful citizens of world wherein a man must work if he would eat and therefore live. New York and many other great cities in the United States loves a procession, and it is a startling fact to note that if the dead and who'll ly war-shattered youth of the British empire could march down Fifth ave nue in platoons of twenty men in a rank the pallid host could not pass from Central Park to Washington Square in ten long summer days. Am erica is proud, and very properly proud, of the great army she has poured into France. But Britain has already lost a million in dead and grievously wounded, while two and half millions have been smitten by the pestilence called Germany. have not exaggerated these figures. They Lare official. We know some of the de- tails, with a mournful exactitude. During one month in France in 1917 we had 27,000 men killed. In the first twelve months of the war we had 6,6660 officers and 95,00O men killed. During the month of April this year, as the result of the great battles which began on March 21, 1918, we had over 10000 casualties among of- ficers alone. Of course. we have kill led and wounded many Germans. But what does that matter? What does it matter how many of the brutes are killed? It is our duty, duty put on us by the laws we live under, obey and swear by, to keep on killing them till they cease to plague mankind. I have no concern for Germans. You Americans have a frontier proverb: : "A good Injun is a dead Injun!" Un- til Germany casts out the devil of kaiserism and goes back hundred years to the race which produced some decent and useful members of the body corporate I shall believe most firmly that the best German is dead German. What, does grieye me most profoundly is the knowledge that Britain-and every word I have written would be stulified if you did not realize that I am proud of my own folk-has lost the flower of her manhood just as you, my honored friends in America, will lose stock hard to replace if the million of your magnificent youth in France, and the other millions you will put in the field until there are enough dead Germans, are fated to show a casu- altv list comparable with that of Britain. But do not misunderstood me. My faith in the destiny of our joint races is supreme. Are not our dead the best warranty of the past and the brightest hope of the future? They are our very own, flesh of our flesh and bone of our bone. They are at once our tribute and our in spiration.
 We who gave this holocaust must be worthy of it. We who are left must be more resolute, more knightly, more grandly indifferent to loss or suffering, than those who have gone. Hcw can it be otherwise? The cross they bore, the sacrifice they made, is all the lighter for us because of their example. The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church of Christ. The blood of our dead is the seed of a race which shall transcend in power and greatness the widest dream ever dreamed by enthusiastic pan-Germa n. It must be so. It is deduction based on the soundest theory of life, the very essence of all that science has taught us either of men or of the lower animals. But I cannot blind