In truth, it is, as Byron said, "not difficult to
die," and enormously difficult to live: that explains why, at
bottom, peace is not only better than war, but infinitely more
arduous. Did any hero of the war face the glorious risk of death
more bravely than the traitor Bolo faced the ignominious
certainty of it? Bolo taught us all how to die: can we say that
he taught us all how to live? Hardly a week passes now without
some soldier who braved death in the field so recklessly that he
was decorated or specially commended for it, being haled before
our magistrates for having failed to resist the paltriest
temptations of peace, with no better excuse than the old one that
"a man must live." Strange that one who, sooner than do honest
work, will sell his honor for a bottle of wine, a visit to the
theatre, and an hour with a strange woman, all obtained by
passing a worthless cheque, could yet stake his life on the most
desperate chances of the battle-field! Does it not seem as if,
after all, the glory of death were cheaper than the glory of
life? If it is not easier to attain, why do so many more men
attain it? At all events it is clear that the kingdom of the
Prince of Peace has not yet become the kingdom of this world. His
attempts at invasion have been resisted far more fiercely than
the Kaiser's.
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