One old woman walks quietly with bowed head submissive. In the front walks a priest, his hand raised in the gesture of blessing his flock. The heroism of the Catholic priesthood both in France and in Belgium forms one of the most honourable features of the Great War, and stands in striking contrast with the calculating diplomatic policy of the Papacy. There is always the same tendency in the “chief priests” of every race and period to be tempted to sacrifice moral considerations to expediency, and to prefer the empty fabric of an imposing Church establishment to the people who make the Church. But the clergy of Belgium are there to prove what the Church can do for mankind. This cartoon would be incomplete and would deserve condemnation as inartistic if it were not redeemed by the priest and the old woman. WILLIAM MITCHELL RAMSAY [Illustration: THE SHIELDS OF ROSSELAERE At Rosselaere the German troops forced the Belgian townsfolk to march in front of them.] The Obstinacy of Nicholas The venerable quip that what is firmness in ourselves is obstinacy in our opponents is illustrated with a ludicrous explicitness in the whole tenor of German official utterance since the failure of the great drives. The obtuseness of the Allies is so abysmal (it is again and again complained in the Reichstag and through Wolff) that they are unable to see that Germany is the permanently triumphant victor. Whereas for Germany, whose cause even the neutrals judge to be lost, to hold out at the cost of untold blood and treasure is merely the manifestation of heaven-conferred German steadfastness. The Army into whose obstinate corporate head it is hardest to drive the idea of German military all-powerfulness is the Russian, of which retreating units, actually armed with staves against a superbly equipped (but innocent and wantonly attacked) foe, were so stupid as to forget how to be broken and demoralised. And this long, imperturbable, _verdamte_ Nicholas, who was declared on the highest German authority (and what higher?) to be annihilated twice, having turned a smashing tactical defeat into strategical victory, bobs up serenely in another and most inconvenient place. Absurd; particularly when “what I tell you three times is true.”... Neonapoleon didn’t remember Moscow. But he will. JOSEPH THORP [Illustration: “Why, I’ve killed you twice, and you dare to come back again.”] Bundles of Four This cartoon is horribly suggestive of Hun utilitarian methods! I am told by an eminent chemist that six pounds of glycerine can be extracted from the corpse of a fairly well nourished Hun, and I can well believe that such an opportunity for replenishing the diminishing stocks of a much needed commodity is not neglected by the Great General Staff. _Bundles of Four!_ And why not, from the Hun point of view?