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THE HOME OF HORACE 1912 By George Meason Whicher THE cold Licenza through the valley brawls; Unchanged the forest rustles on the hill; The ploughman to his lagging oxen calls Amid the selfsame vines; and murmuring still Adown the hollow rock the fountain falls To yield the wandering herd its welcome chill. Each sound to him so long familiar grown Even now the poet's loving ear had known, Could he but stand again within these walls Which once the kindly gods made all his own. Poor poet! who so dreaded lest his book Might come to be at last a schoolroom bore. How would he mourn to see his cherished nook Laid bare, a prey for our myopic lore! Sweet peace has fled, and prying eyes may look On crumbling step and tessellated floor. Stripped to the garish light of common day, The sheltering mould of ages torn away, Now lie the little rooms, where once he took Long draughts of 'ease and let his fancy stray. Languid Maecenas left the roaring town To sip the Sabine in this friendly vale; Here Vergil, white of soul, oft sat him down To hear old Cervius spin his moral tale; Pert Davus, heedless of a growing frown, Plied here his argument without avail; While each new moon would rustic Phidyle stand To offer holy meal with pious hand, Pleasing her tiny gods with rosemary crown To bless the increase of her master's land. O! that far hence, in some dim Sabine glade, These stones, half buried in the kindly loam,— Unnoted, undiscovered, unsurveyed,— Might but afford the owl a darkling home! There might the thrush still warble undismayed. And timid woodland creatures boldly roam Through broken arch and plundered portico Which heard the poet's footstep long ago; That so no pang might touch thee, gentle Shade, This worse than ruined house of thine to know! 184

THE MOTOR IN WARFARE POWER AND SPEED IN THE GREAT EUROPEAN CONFLICT BY CHARLES LINCOLN FREESTON Member of the General Committee of the Royal Automobile Club of Great Britain and Ireland; Founder Member of the Royal Aero Club; author of "The High Roads of the Alps," etc. From a photograph by the Record Press, London. English motor-cyclist in France. The place of the galloping orderly has been taken by the motor-cyclist. HIS is not a war of men. It is a war of machines." Such was the dictum of a distinguished officer when the great European war had would have been impossible. been eight weeks in progress and it had become evident that the quick-firer and the machine-gun were the most potent weapons of offence on either side. But the war is also one of "machines" in a totally different sense; and whereas quick-firers and Maxims, though more liberally employed than in any previous campaign, are no new things of themselves, the feature which is new and paramount alike is the use of the "petrol" motor in its every shape and form. Without it, indeed, history might conceivably have had to record another Thirty Years' War. With millions of men drawn up in battle array at one and the same time, to handle them effectively by old-time methods Even before the opposing fronts were extended to their fullest degree in France alone, they were officially declared to have attained a length of three hundred miles, and one of two hundred and seventy miles in the east—figures which not only convey some indication of the stupendous size of the engaging forces, but even more emphatically suggest the tremendous responsibilities of the commanders-in-chief. Nevertheless, although they have to deal with millions instead of tens of thousands, the commanders concerned have never had their forces so completely under VOL. LVII.—19 185

THE MOTOR IN<br />

WARFARE<br />

POWER AND SPEED IN THE GREAT EUROPEAN CONFLICT<br />

BY CHARLES LINCOLN<br />

FREESTON<br />

Member of the General Committee of the Royal Automobile Club of Great Britain and Ireland; Founder Member of<br />

the Royal Aero Club; author of "The High Roads of the Alps," etc.<br />

From a photograph by the Record Press, London.<br />

English motor-cyclist in France.<br />

The place of the galloping orderly has been taken by the motor-cyclist.<br />

HIS is not a war of men. It<br />

is a war of machines."<br />

Such was the dictum of a<br />

distinguished officer when<br />

the great European war had would have been impossible.<br />

been eight weeks in progress<br />

and it had become evident that the<br />

quick-firer and the machine-gun were the<br />

most potent weapons of offence on either<br />

side.<br />

But the war is also one of "machines"<br />

in a totally different sense; and whereas<br />

quick-firers and Maxims, though more<br />

liberally employed than in any previous<br />

campaign, are no new things of themselves,<br />

the feature which is new and paramount<br />

alike is the use of the "petrol" motor in<br />

its every shape and form. Without it,<br />

indeed, history might conceivably have<br />

had to record another Thirty Years' War.<br />

With millions of men drawn up in battle<br />

array at one and the same time, to handle<br />

them effectively by old-time methods<br />

Even before<br />

the opposing fronts were extended to<br />

their fullest degree in France alone, they<br />

were officially declared to have attained<br />

a length of three hundred miles, and one<br />

of two hundred and seventy miles in the<br />

east—figures which not only convey some<br />

indication of the stupendous size of the<br />

engaging forces, but even more emphatically<br />

suggest the tremendous responsibilities<br />

of the commanders-in-chief.<br />

Nevertheless, although they have to<br />

deal with millions instead of tens of thousands,<br />

the commanders concerned have<br />

never had their forces so completely under<br />

VOL. LVII.—19 185

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