're
going up that road, gentlemen, look out for booby-traps."]

Prince Max of Baden, the successor of Hertling in the Chancellorship, whose
appointment hardly bears out the promise of popular government, has issued
a pacific Manifesto which inspires an "Epitaph in anticipation":

In memory of poor Prince Max,
Who, posing as the friend of Pax,
Yet was not noticeably lax
In the true Teuton faith which hacks
Its way along; forbidden tracks,
Marks bloody dates on almanacs
And holds all promises as wax;
Breeding, where once we knew Hans Sachs,
A race of monomaniacs....
But now illusion's mirror cracks,
The radiant vision fades, the axe
Lies at the root. So farewell, Max!

Certain people have proclaimed their opinion that the German nation ought
not to be humiliated. When all is said, Mr. Punch saves his pity for our
murdered dead.

Parliament has met again, not that there is any very urgent need for their
labours just now. With a caution that seemed excessive Mr. Bonar Law has
thought it premature to discuss a military situation changing every
hour--though happily always for the better--or even to propose a formal
Vote of Thanks to men who are daily adding to their harvest of laurels. On
better grounds discussion of Mr. Wilson's famous "fourteen points" and of
demobilisation has been deprecated. The suggestion--made opportunely on
Trafalgar Day--for securing marks of distinction for our merchant seamen
gained a sympathetic hearing, and the proposal to make women eligible for
Parliament has been carried after a serious debate by an overwhelming
majority in which the _ci-devant_ anti-suffragists were as prominent
as the others. Five years ago such a motion would have furnished an orgy of
alleged humour, and been laughed out of the House. Mr. Dillon and his
colleagues have put a great many questions about the torpedoing of the
_Leinster_ and the lack of an escort. But it is unfortunate that their
tone suggested more indignation with the alleged laches of the Admiralty
than horror at the German crime. Irish indignation over the outrage,
according to a Nationalist M.P., is intense; but not to the point of
expressing itself in khaki.

[Illustration: Die Nacht am Rhein]

[Illustration: PROSPEROUS IRISH FARMER: "And what about the War, your
Riverence? Do ye think it will hould?"]

The woes of the Irish harvest labourers in England have not yet been fully
appreciated, and seem to demand a revised