keness in subject to Barrie's play, _Der Tag_, which,
however, Donald had not seen or even heard of when he wrote
his own.

I

THE POTENTATE[1]

SCENE. _A tent (interior). The_ POTENTATE _is sitting at a
table listening to his_ COURT CHAPLAIN.

[Footnote 1: It is necessary to state that _The Potentate_ was written
before Sir James Barrie's play _Der Tag_ appeared.]

COURT CHAPLAIN (_concluding his remarks_). Where can we look for the
Kingdom of God, Sire, if not among the German people? Consider your
foes. The English are Pharisees, hypocrites. Woe to them, saith
the Lord. The French are atheists. The Belgians are ignorant and
priest-ridden. The Russians are sunk in mediaeval superstition. As for
the Italians, half are atheists and the other half idolators. Only
in Germany do you find a reasonable and progressive faith, devoid
of superstition, abreast of scientific thought, and of the highest
ethical value. Germany then, Sire, is the Kingdom of God on earth. The
Germans are the chosen people, the heirs of the promise, and let their
enemies be scattered!

(_The_ POTENTATE _rises, leans forward with his hands on the
table, and an expression of extreme gratification, while the_
CHAPLAIN _stands with a smug and respectful smile on his white
face._)

POTENTATE. You are right, my dear Clericus, abundantly right. Very
well put indeed! Yes, Germany is the Kingdom of God, and I (_drawing
himself up to his full height_)--I am Germany! The strength of the
Lord is in my right arm, and He teaches it terrible things for the
unbeliever and the hypocrite. With God I conquer! Good-night, my dear
Clericus, good-night.

(CLERICUS _departs with a low bow, and_ _the_ POTENTATE _sinks
into his chair with a gesture of fatigue. Enter a_ GENERAL _of
the Headquarters Staff with telegrams._)

POTENTATE (_brightening_). Ha, my dear General, you have news?

GENERAL. Excellent news, Sire! On the Eastern front the Russians
continue to give way. In the West a French attack has been repulsed
with heavy loss, and our gallant Prussians have driven the British out
of half a mile of trenches.

(_At this last bit of news the_ POTENTATE _springs to his feet
with a look of joy._)

POTENTATE. A sign! My God, a sign! Pardon, General, I was thinking of
a conversation that I have just had with Dr. Clericus. Come now, show
me where these trenches are.

(_The_ GENERAL _produces a map