for a new type of aircraft suddenly appeared to cap the climax in this sphere of activity. A monoplane constructed entirely of metal alighted near Philadelphia on the evening of June 27, 1920, having left Omaha 1200 miles away in the morning of the same day, and having attained a maximum speed of 120 miles in a few seconds less than an hour. This JL-6 with its one metallic wing, introduced by J. L. Larsen to our country from Germany, required only five gallons of gasoline for a flight of 100 miles. It had a cabin as commodious and comfortable as the tonneau of the finest automobile. It was lighted by electricity and warmed by lightning extracted from the clouds. It was fitted up to serve a leisurely meal while cleaving the atmosphere with the swiftness of wingèd Mercury flying to earth from the seat of the gods in the heavens. It was three Larsen monoplanes which left New York July 29 to map out an aerial mail route to San Francisco, and two of them reached their destination August 8, delivering the first letters ever thus carried to the Pacific slope. On Wednesday September 8, aerial mail left the metropolis on the Atlantic coast at 5.30 A. M., and arrived in San Francisco at 2.35 P. M. Saturday, and this speed for the transcontinental trip was to be increased, for in a sea to sea race a mail plane flying all night left the Pacific terminus at 4.30 A. M. on Washington's birthday anniversary, Febraury 22, 1921, and reached the Atlantic station the next day at 4.50 P. M. Improvements along the aerial line are as certain to come as those that took place in the gradual perfecting of the motor car, which barely touches the earth and fairly skims over the ground, after the manner of the ostrich half running and partly lifted aloft by its strong and graceful wings bearing it along with the greatest rapidity. Whether a permanent mail service through the

air for long distances proves practicable or not, whether the cost (in life if not in money) be prohibitive or not, the various trial tests and the actual successes that have been made show real atmospheric achievements, of which to be proud.

There has been the same rapid progress in the development of the submarine, that mechanical wonder, which like a diving sea-fowl could disappear under the water at the sighting of danger, and which thus could make its way safely across the Atlantic while also it could and did rise from its lurking-place in oceanic hiding to sink commercial shipping in such large measure as to imperil Allied success. A new American submersible, S-3, appeared, capable of cruising 10,000 miles, a greater radius of action than that of the best German submarine in war-time, and its superiority in other respects was marked, though its inferiority in certain regards had perhaps to be admitted. Another of this type of craft, S-5, nearly had a tragic end, which it escaped in a most wonderful way. It submerged, but on account of some failure in its mechanism refused to come to the surface again. Wireless signalling, however, brought aid from a distance. Science and invention bored into the interior to admit air, and the suffocating crew was rescued, and what seemed likely to be their casket rose once more to greet the shining sun and the blue sky.

This is something which America invented, but which Germany perfected to constitute its greatest menace, to end which there came toward the very last through American ingenuity the electrical listening device. This sound detector could follow the enemy after submerging, and when in this way he had been located, a depth bomb could be dropped with deadly effect. In one verified case, it was reported, the underwater crew could be heard feverishly

hammering, evidently trying to repair damages, and there were fitful starts and jerky stops as if all were not going well down below, while there succeeded an ominous silence, finally broken by 25 sharp reports like revolver shots, which manifestly meant so many suicides by the despairing victims, who while yet alive had been caught and held in a huge steel coffin that had been their floating home, but that would never rise again. The perfecting of electrical ears did not come soon enough to be of the largest use that had been anticipated, but of distinct service nevertheless, and of still greater promise, had not the struggle suddenly ended. Under the incitement of the unusual need, there have been developed artificial drums much more sensitive to the least noise than those of the human organ. By the dropping of tubes overboard into the water, the foe was definitely fixed miles away, was steadily approached by alternating creepings ahead and cautious listenings, until with a last quick rush he was attacked and repeatedly destroyed.

The atmosphere has been pulsating with the excitement of the fast-coming successes which we have been noting, and we more truly than Tennyson when he penned the lines can say,

"Through the shadow of the globe we sweep into the younger day,

Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay."

Indeed to paraphrase a sentiment of Holy Writ, one day in this time of electrical vitality is better than a thousand years in the remote past of a sluggish dormancy. In Scriptural phraseology, we can say of what has recently been occurring, "This is the Lord's doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes.

Mysteriously enough, and "God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform," the war which we deplored gave the needed stimulus to bring the swift and stupendous aerial and submarine achievements that we have been depicting.

R

CHAPTER I

ROUND ABOUT ROME:

IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF PAUL

OME was very closely related to the launching of Christianity in the first century. The empire which it. had established stretched from the Atlantic on the west to the Euphrates on the east, and from the river Danube on the north to the African desert on the south. Virgil was right when he said:

"Others, I know, more tenderly may beat the breathing brass,

And better from the marble block bring living looks to

pass;

Others may better plead the cause, may compass heaven's

face,

And mark it out, and tell the stars, their rising and their

place:

But thou, O Roman, look to it the folks of earth to sway; For this shall be thy handicraft, peace on the world to lay."

Rome did have the genius to rule, to extend its sway, until it governed the whole of the then civilized world. Moreover, there was peace throughout this mighty dominion at the advent of Christ. The temple of Janus, to express it classically, was closed. There were roads, like the Appian Way, extending in every direction. Besides these overland