We know that this is the greatest of all crusades. We know that men must be set free. Tyrants, whether they be emperors and kings or governments that place greed above justice, must be cleared from the earth. This last and greatest of tyrants, this league of the Hohenzollerns and Hapsburgs, has by its very brutality and injustice opened men’s eyes and let loose a new spirit in the world. Russia was autocratic, her ruling house of Romanoff was in many ways true brother of the other tyrants, but the people of Russia felt the new spirit and have already driven their Czar from his throne. When we think of the French Revolution, the Reign of Terror, Napoleon, and all that France had to endure on the hard road to liberty we may well imagine that dark days lie before the Russian people, but in time France rose like a phœnix from the ashes of revolt, and when we see what France is to-day we may look confidently to the future of this other great people. For the spirit liveth! The truest words that were ever spoken! And the spirit that fills France to-day, the spirit that fills England and Belgium and America and all the allies, yes, even that same spirit in Russia, will carry mankind a long way on the road to liberty. For no one can conquer that spirit; it is the immortal part of man. Let us read again the glorious lines of Julia Ward Howe in “The Battle-Hymn of the Republic,” lines as true in this crusade as they were in the crusade against slavery for which they were written. “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on. “I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps; They have builded Him an altar in the evening’s dews and damps; I have read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps. His day is marching on. “I have read a fiery gospel, writ in burnished rows of steel: ‘As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal; Let the hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel, Since God is marching on.’ “He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat; He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat; Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet! Our God is marching on. “In the beauty of the lilies, Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me: As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, While God is marching on.”