Early in the conflict, which is being fought for the basal principles of civilisation and moral human conduct, one was made to realise that the Allied Powers were opposed to an enemy whose resources were only equalled by his utter negation of the rules of civilised warfare. Soon, to the horrors of machine-guns and of high-explosive shells of a calibre and intensity of destructive force never before known, were added the diabolical engines for pouring over the field of battle asphyxiating gases. We know the horrors of that mode of German “frightfulness,” and some of us have seen its effects in the slowly dying victims in hospitals. But that was not enough. Yet other methods of “frightfulness” and savagely which would have disgraced the most ruthless conquerors of old, were to be applied by the German Emperor in his blasphemous “Gott mit uns” campaign. And against the gallant sons of Belgium, France, England, and Russia in turn were poured out with bestial ingenuity the jets and curtains of “liquid fire” which seared the flesh and blinded the eyes. For this there will be a reckoning if God be still in heaven whilst the world trembles with the shock of conflict, and the souls of men are seared. Raemaekers in this cartoon shows not only the horror of such a method of warfare, but also, with unerring pencil, the unwavering spirit of the men who have to meet this “frightfulness.” There is a land to be redeemed, and women and children to be avenged, and so the fighting men of the allied nations go gallantly on with their stern, amazed faces set towards victory. CLIVE HOLLAND [Illustration: LIQUID FIRE] Nish and Paris Very happily and very graphically has Raemaekers here pointed the contrast between the Gargantuan hopes with which the Kaiser and his Junker army embarked on the War, and the exiguous and shadowy fruits of their boasted victories up to the present. They foretold a triumphal entry into the conquered capital of France within a month of the opening of hostilities. Yet the irony of Fate has, slowly but surely, cooled the early fever of anticipation. The only captured town where the All-Highest has found an opportunity of lifting his voice in exultant pæan is Nish, a secondary city of the small kingdom of Serbia. There, too, he perforce delayed his jubilation until the lapse of some eighteen months after the date provisionally and prematurely fixed in the first ebullition of over-confidence, for his triumphal procession through Paris.