We know--and I am grateful for the chance to voice our gratitude to him--the greatness of our Russian Ally. We remember the early days when the Kaiser’s hosts were pouring in over France, and the Russian thrust into Galicia drew some of the overwhelming weight from the Western Front. We realise now the nobility of self-sacrifice that flung an army within reach of the jaws of destruction, that risked its annihilation to draw upon itself some of the sword-strokes that threatened to pierce to the heart of the West. Our national and natural instinct of admiration for a hard fighter, and still greater admiration for the apex of good sportsmanship, for the friend or foe who can “take a licking,” who is a “good loser,” went out even more strongly to Russia in the dark days when, faced by an overwhelming weight of metal, she was forced and hammered and battered back, losing battle-line after battle-line, stronghold after stronghold, city after city; losing everything except heart and dogged punishment-enduring courage. And how great the Russian truly is will surely be known presently to the Turk and to the masquerading false “Prophet of Allah.” “No one is great save Allah,” says William, and even as the Turk spoke more truly than he knew in calling the Russian great, even as he was bitterly to realise the greatness, so in the fullness of time must William come to realise how great is the Allah of the Moslem, the Christian God Whom he has blasphemed, and in Whose name he and his people have perpetrated so many crimes and abominations. BOYD CABLE [Illustration: THE HOLY WAR THE TURK: “But he is so great.” WILLIAM: “No one is great, save Allah, and I am his prophet.”] “Gott mit Uns” When we consider the public utterances of the German clergy, we can very easily substitute for their symbol of Christian faith this malignant, grotesque, and inhuman monster of Louis Raemaekers. Indeed, our inclination is to thrust the green demon himself into the pulpit of the Fatherland; for his wrinkled skull could hatch and his evil mouth utter no more diabolic sentiments than those recorded and applauded from Lutheran Leipsic, or from the University and the chief Protestant pulpit in Berlin. Such sermons are a part of that national _debâcle_ of reasoning faculty which is the price intellectual Germany has paid for the surrender of her soul to Prussia. An example or two may be cited from the outrageous mass.