Serbs look upon the English power on this planet, and then look and see our own less than modest place on the globe, we must unwillingly exclaim in the words of the Psalmist: O Lord, what is man, that thou art mindful of him?—or with a little change: O England, what is Serbia, that thou art mindful of her? And the poor sons of Serbia, that thou visitest them?

A small strip of land with five million inhabitants and without seaboard. A peasant people devoted to agriculture and to nature, to the

forest and cattle, to songs and tales. A past full of glory, of blood and sins. A present full of tears, pains and hopes. A king carried on a stretcher through the rocky desert of Albania,—a loyal parliament which refused to make a separate peace with the enemy even in the darkest hour of national tragedy,—an honest government which did everything possible to save the country, and which, when the country was nearly conquered, exclaimed through its President: "It is better to die in beauty than to live in shame!"—a fearless army, which for three years only knew victory, now watching in snow on the mountains of Montenegro and Albania, and lodging in the dens of wolves and eagles.[1] Another army of old men, of women and children, fleeing away from death and rushing to death. Shall I say that is Serbia?

No: that is only a part of Serbia.

You have heard talk of Greater Serbia. I personally think that Serbia can never be greater than in this solemn hour of her supreme suffering, in which all the civilised world in both hemispheres trembles because of her catastrophe and sympathises with her. I personally love my little country just because it is so little; and just because its deeds are greater than its size. I am not sure that I should love it so much should

it happen to become territorially so big as Spain or Italy. But I cannot help it; I must say that our Irridentists in Austro-Hungary are more numerous than our population in Serbia. Eight millions of our Serbo-Croat and Slovene brothers have been looking towards Serbia as towards their Piedmont, waiting their salvation from Serbia, as Alsace-Lorraine is waiting its salvation from France, and being proud of Serbia as all slaves are proud of their free kinsmen. All the slaves from Isonzo to Scutari are groaning under the yoke of an inhuman Austro-Magyar regime, and are singing of Serbia as their redeemer from chains and shame. Little Serbia has been conscious of her great historic task, to liberate and unite all the Southern-Slavs in one independent being; therefore she, with supreme effort, collected all her forces to fulfil her task and her duty, and so to respond to the vital hopes of her brethren.

Shall I say that is Serbia?

No; that is only physical Serbia.

But there is a soul of Serbia.

For five hundred years the Serbian soul suffered and believed. Suffering sometimes breaks the belief. But the Serbian suffering strengthened the belief of the Serbian people. With belief came hope, with hope strength; and so the Serbs endured the hardest and darkest

slavery ever recorded in history, not so much by their physical strength as by the strength of their soul. Besides, it was a great temptation for the Serbs to abandon the Christian faith and to accept the faith of the Crescent. Under this condition only, the Turks promised freedom to the Serbs and equal rights. Several of the aristocratic families could not resist this temptation and became renegade to the faith of their ancestors in order to save their lives. But the mass of the people fearlessly continued to be faithful to the belief in the Cross.

Allow me to give you only a few examples of the

ACTIVITY OF THE SERBIAN SOUL

in the time when the Serbian body was in chains. Although the Serbian body was enslaved, the Serbian soul was still free and active. Here are some proverbs made during the time of slavery and abasement of the body:

It is better not to be born than to misuse life.

The sun sees everything and keeps silent; the foolish man knows nothing and still talks.

Why does God send suffering to the best of His children? Because the weak cannot endure it.

The tears of the weak are accusations of the strong; the tears of the poor are accusations of

the rich; the tears of the righteous will be transformed into diamonds under the throne of God.

A king asks another king: How many people do you govern? But if God speaks to a king, He asks: How many people are you helping?

Even the dry leaves cry out when trodden on; why should not the trodden man cry out?

It is better to give life than to take life. If you give life, you do what God does; if you take life, you do what Satan does.

Some men are better than others, but there is no man so good as God and no one so bad as the devil.

Some people are dressed in silk and satin, and others are dressed in rags. Very often that is the only difference between man and man.

There is a great difference between a learned man and a good man. The learned man can do good, but the good man will do good. The learned man can build the world up, but can destroy it too; the good man can only build it up.

A man's judgment lasts as long as a man's life, but God's judgment lasts as long as God.

It is better to dress the soul in silk and the body in rags than the reverse.

If life does not mean work, then life is worth nothing.

Work and virtue are sisters, as well as idleness and vice.

Work and prayer are two eyes on the same face. The man who works only, without praying, has one eye only; and the man who prays without working only has one eye too. The man who neither works nor prays has no eyes, and walks in darkness.

Neither be boastful of life nor fearful of death. Death is conditioned by life, and life by death.

You can kill me, but my son will live; you can kill my son, but my soul will live.

The Kingdom of God is coming as quietly as the moonlight, and it will come fully when men learn not to live in convulsions and not to die in convulsions.

There are only two nations upon the earth: that which weeps and that which laughs.

Now I would like to indicate slightly what

The English Political Interests in Serbia

are. Little as she may seem, democratic Serbia is still the greatest moral factor in the big Slav world. She is admired by other subjugated Slavs

because she succeeded without anybody's help in freeing herself. She is envied by all other Slavs, from near and from far, as well as from other neighbouring nations, because of her nearly perfect democracy. Serbia is the only democratic state among the four independent Slav states (Russia, Montenegro, Bulgaria). And just in this terrible war it became clear to all the world that Serbia was the only democratic state in the Near East. Turkey is governed by an oligarchy, Bulgaria by a German despot, Greece by a wilful king whose patriotism is overshadowed by his nepotism, Roumania is ruled more by the wish of the landlords (boyars) and court than by the wish of the people. I will say nothing about the very profanation of democracy in the dark realm of the Hapsburgs.

Serbia not only means a democratic state, but a democratic nation; that is to say, that not only are the Serbian institutions (including the church also) democratic, but the spirit of the whole of the nation is democratic. After all, this democratic spirit of Serbia must be victorious in the Balkans as well as in the Slav world.

You know that England's glory has always been to stand as the champion of democracy. England's best interests in the Near East now more than ever imperatively require her to