Just now the German is a brave, disciplined, determined, brutal foe, led by a Sovereign who knows that this campaign will either place him first of all Earth's monarchs, or disgrace him and his country for all time. He knows also that he must do the work himself, for from his eldest born nothing stable or wholesome is to be expected. Germany will offer Britain a bargain before this war is over, probably disgraceful to us but tempting in its clauses. It might be summed up, "the land for Germany and the sea for Britain." It is not surprising that up to the present, neutral nations on the Continent believe, or profess to believe, in the victory of Germany. All that they can see is that on the whole success has so far, on the Continent, rested with the central Powers. Sir Edward Grey was absolutely right when he said that the Balkan States, and it probably would be true of Turkey also, would be at the disposal of the Powers towards which victory seemed to incline. Self-interest has to be, unfortunately, the motive inspiring petty States. If it be true that M. Delcassé, the French Foreign Minister, resigned because of his distrust of Greece, no one need be surprised. Greece is in a very difficult position, not only because her Queen is a German Princess, but also because if by any chance Germany were victorious and Greece had taken up arms against her, the German demands upon that small country would be such as would mean practical destruction. Turning now to France, we realise that her impelling force in this war is a sacred devotion to country. The pathetic mistake made at the beginning of operations of attempting an incursion into Alsace sprang out of the longing to give back to the beloved land the portion which had been torn from her in 1870. To a Frenchman his earth has a deep meaning, his country has an absolute right to his life, a right never disputed and which is acknowledged with the greatest fervour in the hour of gravest danger. There is no doubt that in the early months of the war the oppression of the last campaign was upon the people; they could still, some of them, remember, and all the others had been told of, the terrible experiences undergone five and forty years ago. When once more Germany was overrunning the land there was for a little time a belief in the inevitable victory of the enemy, but very soon France pulled herself together, and she was enabled to do so because the men leading her, and she herself, had developed a greatness which did not show itself in 1870. I look back to the time when I saw French prisoners spit as they passed their own principal leaders, also in the hands of the enemy. I remember in one German town how subaltern prisoners would cross a road in order to avoid saluting men of superior rank in their own army. I can also call to mind a great moral degradation on the part of many French officers. How different it all is to-day. It seems to me as if Joffre were typical of the