A Silent City. A man stood on a little hill in Fricourt in the very early days of the Battle of the Somme of 1916. They were still bombarding Fricourt Wood. Weary men, covered with the blood of wounds and the grime of battle, came stumbling back. Beside him lay the ruins of the village church, the cross that had been on the top of the little stceple lying at his feet. The clock which had told Fricourt the time was smashed beyond repair. There was no longer any time. Below him lay a little sunken road that led through the villago to the battle line beyond, and on the side of the road by a little gutter lay a rifle. A tin hat with a hole in it hung from a wooden cross made from a provision box, and on the cross, in pencil, there was written An Unknown Soldier." The dust of passing traffic lay thick on his little grave, and the men marching to look on "Death" passed by in silence. Yesterday-four years later-the same man stood on a little hill in the City of London, and on the little hill was the City Church, St. Paul's. There were no ruins all around him, the cross was still on the summit of the church, and the clock still told the people the time. The roar of the traffic of a great city had taken the place of the roar of the guns. The steps of the great church were crowded with men and boys, women and girls. Numbers of pigeons wheeled overhead as the aeroplanes had wheeled over the little church in Fricourt. There was the sound of the striking of a clock. All traffic ceased, men stood to attention with their hats in their hands, women clasped the arms of their men. Here and there a woman sobbed, and even a man's eyes filled 'with tears. The last pigeon, surely the spirit of an unknown soldier, floated to rest on the front of the church and looked donn upon the crowd. There was a great silence. A mrinute went by, a second, and then a third. There was stiU no sound, no movement, and then there came, as if bome on the autumn wind, the sound of soft music from the great church. The village church of Fricourt -the church of St. Paul. The silence ended. The armistice was a real thing. AT THE MANSION HOUSE. The scene outside the Bank and the Mansion House was just as impressive as it was on the steps of St. Paul's Cathedral. Several minutes before 11 o'clock all traffic ceased, and the Staff Band of the Salvation Army took up a position on the balcony of the MIansion House. Some minutes before the silence was begun the band began to play, first "Lead, kindly light," and then " Rock of Ages" and " Nearer, my God, to Thee." The great crowd, bareheaded joined in at once, and, led by about a thousand members of the Salvation Army, who had marched from the headquarters in Queen Victoria-street, sang with a fervour seldom, if ever, heard before. The bands ceased as the first stroke of the hour was struck. Men stood to attention ; men and women wept freely. The Union Jack, which was flying from the Blansion House, was lowered, and those of the Bank of England, the Royal Exchange, and other neighbouring buildings followed it down to half-mast. Then there floated from the Mansion House balcony the notes of " The Last Post." Nobody seemed to wish to break the silence, which was broken at last by a prayer offered by Com- missioner Mapp and the playing and singing of that wonderful hymn, " 0 God, our help in ages past." The National Anthem was then sung, and the great crowd slowly dispersed, speaking at first in whispers, until in a few minutes the surge of the City swept on with its never-ending roar. The muffled drums of a contingent of the Irish Guards, standing in the American Market, caused all work to cease in the Stock Exchange. The world's finance stood still until the bugles had sounded " The Last Post." Eminent counsel suspended their arguments in the Law Courts, where all stood in silence for two minutes at 11 o'clock. " We will break off here for two minutes," said Mr. Justice Bail- hache in the King's Bench Division, " and carry our memories back to the fateful days of the Great War, and so remind ourselves of the debt we owe to those who fought, endured, and died for us-and not to them alone, but to Him in Whose hands are the issues of all battles." There was a dead silence all over London, in the stores, the markets, at the great railway stations, and at Drury Lane Theatre, where actors, actresses, and managers had gathered together to honour the " Glorious Dead." Many men lost their lives and lie buried un- known in No Mlan's Land, where they were mending communication wires, which were no sooner mended than they were destroyed again, but no drum-fire ever so completely wiped out all communication as did yesterday's two- minute silence. The British Isles were com- pletely cut off from the world at 11 o'clock yesterday. All instruments ticking out messages to the world ceased to work. The wvorld was for the time forgotten. The dead lived again. The entrance gates at the Zoological Gardens were closed at five minutes to 11, and every one in the gardens went to the War Memorial, a simple hexagonal column, modelled on a French Lantei-ae des Mort. A wreath of scarlet blossoms and palm leaves flamed against the grey stone ; it was a tribute from the staff to their dead comrades. White wreaths and crosses in memory of the individual soldiers lay heaped round the base. A little group of figures in black stood or knelt beside the wreaths, and farther away the officers, keepers, workers, and gardeners, many wearing war decorations, and a crowd of vinitors, stood bareheaded. The sound of the bells floated through the golden air from Westminster in a silence that had already begun, and that was more strange and impres- sive because it was broken only by the familiar voices of the animals. W-hen the silence was over the great, crowds moved on in silent contemplation, and the dead resumed their silent sleep, no longer on the battlefields of the world, for they all lie buried from henceforth in our great Abbey-our fathers, our husbands, our sons and daughters, our brotlhers, and our lovers. There is only one body, but the spirits of all the dead are there as well. There was only one burial, but the whole Empire was one vast memorial service. "Father, in Thy gracious keeping, Leave wve all these great folk sleeping." BURIAL UNIQUE IN HISTORY. ARCHBISHOP ON ITS MIEANING TO THE NATION. The ARcnBrswoP of CAvTSRBuEtY, at the Parish Church, Lambeth, adjoining Lambeth Palace, un- veiled and dedicated last night a war memorial in the side chapel of the church, in the form of a screen inscribe-d with the names of the fallen of the parish. A fully choral service was conducted by the rector, the Rev. F. 0. T. Hawkes. The opening processional hymn. was " Blessed Citv, Reavenlv Salem," the hymns sung later during the service being " Rejoice, O Land, in God thy might," " Valiant Hearts," and, in conclusion, " Al? people that on earth do dwell." Three Collects, for Thanksgiving, for IJnity, and for Remembrance, were read during the service. In his Address, the Ancnnisxop said they had taken part in the Cenotaph ceremonial with a deep sense of proud bereavement and, of deliberate Christian hope. For the ending of w.hat was one great service the procession moved to Westminster Abbey. The open grave was there, surrounded by what was noblest and best in English public life, and bv memorials of those who for centuries had ennoblea the country's historv. In that grave was placed the Unknown British Warrior representing the great company of men nnidentified and undistinguished who had fought and died for us. In the words of an inscription which would be memorable, he was among those " Unknown and yet well-known; as dying and behold they live." That burial, a thing unique in history, had been performed on the second anni- versary of the day when the guns at last were silent. By the prowess of such men the victory of war was won, and we had all to begin to set ourselves- bereaved, thankful,hopeful-to try to win the victories of peace. Such central acts corresponded on a great scale with the dedication everywhere of local memorials -vital to the best local life. The A=Bisriop referred in detail to the wonderful work of the sailors, who, without our lnowledge and outside our reach, had in those dark years kept tireless vigil. We were only learning now what that had meant to us alL He also alluded to the prowess, the spirit, the dauntlessness exhibited by the soldiers on rocky coast-line and sliell-swept trench, and to their cheerful readiness to face by night and day the sorest hardships and perils. It had all been terrible, but it had been magniJicent too, and it was worth while. What was it going to mean now for our nation and for ourselves ? We cherished high hopes of new beginnings and higher levels than before. Were they, or were they not, coming true? He applied this to the life of our ordinary home circles, and urged the greatness of the national trust, whereof each home circle holds a little part. We could win new victories in our home life by self-surrender, by loyalty to Divine leadership, sad by outspoken allegiance to His rule. It was announced that a sum of ?55 was still re- quired towards the total cost, ?450, of the memoriaL A SILENT CITY. SOLEMN PAUSE FOR TWO MINUTES. IMPRESSIVE SCENE AT ST. PAUL'S.