Then comes Mitchell, slowly, a little lame, and almost "all in." Phipps-Herrick thrusts the receiver into his hand. As he listens a beatific expression spreads over his face. It lasts a long time, and then he lays down the cylinder with a sigh. The three heads are close together, and Mitchell whispers under his breath:

"Got 'em got the whole thing-line of mine changed-raiders coming out now-twelve men-rough on us, but if we can get back to our alley we've got 'em! Crawl home quick."

They crawled together in a bunch, formation ignored. Presently steps sounded near them. A swift light swept the hole where they crouched, a volley of rifleshots crashed into it. The Americans answered with their pistols, and saw three or four of the dark forms on the edge of the hole topple over. The rest disappeared. But Rosenlaube had a rifle-ball through his right hip and another through his shoulder. Mitchell and Phipps-Herrick started to carry him.

"Drop it," he whispered. "I'm safe here till dawn-you get home, quick! Specially Phil. He's the one that counts. Cut away, boys!"

Meantime the American trench had opened fire and the German trench answered. The still night broke into a tempest of noise. A bullet or a bit of

shell caught Mitchell in the knee and crumpled him up. Phipps-Herrick lifted him on his back and stood up.

"Come on," he said, "you little cuss. You're the only one that has the stuff we went out after. I'm going to carry you in, 'spite of hell."

And he did it.

Mitchell told the full story of the change in the direction of the German mine and the plan of the next assault, as he had heard it through that lost receiver. The captain said it was information of the highest value. It counted up to a couple of hundred German prisoners and three machine-guns in the next two days.

Rosenlaube, still alive, was brought in just before daybreak by a volunteer rescue-party under the guidance of PhippsHerrick. All three were cited in the despatches. Phipps-Herrick in due time received the Distinguished Service Cross for gallantry on the field. But Mitchell had the surplus satisfaction of the hearing ear.

"Look here, old man," Rosenlaube said to him as they lay side by side in the hospital, "'member our talk in the dugout just before our big night? Well, I allow there was something in what you said. There are times when it is a good thing to know a bit of that barbarous German language. And you never can tell when one of those times may hit you."

the prosperity of a large part of the agricultural class. To choose another instance, it is beyond doubt that the conditions of living of the industrial working class, say in Germany, are much less homogeneous at present than they were before the war. There is greater misery among the poorer part of the proletariat, but comparative prosperity among the ten thousands of skilled workers in the war industries, whose family earnings have increased faster than the cost of living. Therefore, even in the study of economic conditions, which, after all, are only one, though an essential, factor of the problem, the psychological reaction upon the mass should be treated as a distinct question, according to the particular social class involved.

Let us take Germany as a typical instance. Investigation of the present probabilities of a revolution in Austria seems to be at first sight a more tempting and urgent task, for it is certainly true that Austria is much nearer an internal outbreak than Germany. I am convinced that if Austria instead of Germany were our most powerful military opponent, a revolution would already have broken out and probably put an end to the war. Although the existing antagonism of class interests is less considerable in Austria than in Germany, the sufferings of the masses there are undoubtedly greater, and the psychological effect is the more considerable as the nerves and the patriotism of even the Teutonic population of Austria are weaker. The main causes of disruption in Austria, however, are national rather than social. Yet we see that even the Czechs, who doubtless are the most powerful and determined of all the restive elements in the Hapsburg monarchy, realize that a revolution, though it probably would make them the masters of Prague and the entire CzechoSlovak territory within a few hours, if they made up their minds to attempt it, would have no lasting effect as long as the military power and the morale of Germany are unbroken. The Narodne Listy, the chief organ of the Prague Nationalists, took a very wise attitude the other day in advising the Czechs to be patient and trust their leaders, who know that a nationalist upheaval at present, though it would find the Vienna government pretty

powerless, would be doomed to be crushed by German machine-guns.

The radical Socialist elements in Vienna and the Teutonic provinces of Austria, who have become very aggressive against their government of late, and whose chief organ, the Vienna Arbeiterzeitung, uses as strong a language at present in attacking the government as it did in supporting it during the first three years of the war, have apparently become reconciled to a similar policy of patience and expectancy. Whether the Czech Nationalists and the Vienna Socialists will eventually postpone any decisive action until Germany will have been sufficiently weakened by military reverses or internal dissension to remove the menace of German military dictatorship in Austria-Hungary, is a question about which it is unsafe to prophesy. But, in any event, it is clear that the crucial issue in the prospects of an internal disruption of the Central Empires is in Germany and not in Austria.

Even if a revolution should break out in Austria before anything of the sort happens in Germany, I do not think that the masses of the German people would be more stirred to action than they were by the Russian revolution in 1917. The measure of the reciprocal psychological action of German and Austrian conditions is given by the comparison between the economic power and military efficiency of Germany, on the one hand, and the exhaustion and moral disintegration of Austria-Hungary on the other. The average German, even the Socialist working man, thinks about Austria to-day very much in the same way as he thought about Russia in 1917. He was very little impressed then by the Russian revolution because he never felt anything but contempt for the Russian people. He always looked upon them as a huge tribe of brutes who had been refused the blessings of "Kultur," and he did not think much of their game of perpetual revolutions. He would have deemed it unworthy of respectable, Philistine, disciplined, and authority-worshipping Germany (for even the German Social Democrat makes a point of considering discipline and authority-worship as a standard of national efficiency) to indulge in an imitation of this Russian sport. There is something very similar in his feel

ing toward the Austrians, whom he considers an unreliable, light-headed, and corrupt lot. In spite of all their traditional phraseology about the international proletarian brotherhood and the bonds of common culture between German Austria and the German Empire, the German Social Democrats, in face-to-face talks, are very liable to run down their Austrian brethren in the same way as one can fancy hearing an arrogant Prussian Guard officer talk about the inefficiency of the traditionally defeated Austrian army.

As in Austria, the main elements of possible internal disruption in Germany are of two kinds: national and social.

The importance of the national element is usually very much overrated. The non-Teutonic oppressed nationalities in the German Empire are comparatively unimportant, and the possibilities of dissension between the different "Bundesstaaten" are much smaller at present than most people imagine.

There are three foreign elements in the population of the German Empire: Alsace-Lorraine, the Danes, and the Poles. The French in Lorraine and the Irredentists of Alsace still seem to do what they can to hold out against the Prussian oppressors, if one may judge by the large number of convictions for "disloyalty" in that part of the country, and by the distrust shown by the military authorities toward the "Wackes," soldiers of AlsaceLorraine, a large number of whom are placed under special surveillance in separate units. But their numbers are small and they have practically no sympathizers in the other parts of Germany. In spite of the ties of common religion and of the fact that Alsace-Lorraine used to be one of the strongholds of the Roman Catholic "Centrum" party, the leaders and the bulk of this party have thrown in their lot with the imperial government to such an extent that Alsace-Lorraine has no hope of ever finding any support from that side. The fact that the Catholic vote of these provinces formed a considerable percentage of the political power of the "Centrum" party is all the more a reason why this party is determined to fight to the end for the forcible retention of Alsace-Lorraine with the empire. The Social Democratic party is no more in

clined than the "Centrum" to yield to the demands of Alsace-Lorraine. The heroic days of 1871, when the founders of German Social Democracy, August Bebel and Wilhelm Liebknecht, bravely faced unpopularity and jail for protesting against the annexation of the two provinces, have long gone by. The local Social Democrats of Prussian birth who, like Deputy Emmel, of Mulhouse, took a leading part in the Socialist movement in Alsace, have lent the oppressive policy of the imperial government a helpful hand, and even went so far in certain cases as to provide them with evidence for the conviction of Alsatian patriots. Even the radical Socialists of the Independent Social Democratic party show a certain reluctance to commit themselves to an open and definite policy of restoration of the wrong done in 1871, and mostly confine themselves to general utterances in favor of the self-determination of oppressed nationalities, without going into any more details than they can help. It seems very unlikely, therefore, that the Alsace-Lorraine question ever should play any part in the internal dissensions of the German Empire during the last stages of the war.

The same remark applies to the oppressed Danish population on the border of Schleswig-Holstein and to the Poles of Silesia and Posnania. The Danish seem to have very little fight left in them, and are unimportant in number, anyhow. The Poles are by far the most numerous of the three oppressed nationalities, and they are the only ones who can make themselves heard in the Reichstag through their own representatives. The policy of promises and retardation of the imperial government seems, however, to have succeeded so far in keeping them pretty tame. Besides, as long_as the creation of a united independent Poland remains a purely theoretical proposition through the weakness of the Allies' position in the East, the Poles of Germany are very likely to find comfort and resignation to their present fate in their belief that after all they are better off materially in the German Empire than their compatriots have been in the past under Russian and even under Austrian rule. They would nevertheless become much more restive and create serious

trouble if the plan of an independent Poland as advocated by the Entente Powers began to materialize, as a result of a German withdrawal from Russia. But even then the trouble would only be local, as the Poles hardly find any more support with the German Social Democrats and Roman Catholics than does Alsace-Lorraine.

In the early stages of the war great hopes were entertained in a section of the press in the Allied countries as to the friction between the different states of the German Empire, as Prussia on the one hand, and especially Saxony and Bavaria on the other. Exaggerated or imaginary reports about fighting between Prussian and Saxon or Bavarian soldiers were a frequent press topic, and created expectations in public opinion which later events proved unjustified.

This may be due to the fact that what a large number of people, say in England or France, knew about Germany applied to the Germany of the past, when the famous "Mainlinie" (the boundary between Prussia and southern Germany) meant nearly as much as the Mason and Dixon line at one time did in American history. The fact that so-called public opinion in every country is always and naturally a little behind the times in its knowledge of foreign affairs, has caused similar errors of judgment in many other instances during this war, as evidenced by the underestimation of France's power by Germany in 1914, and by the lack of knowledge of modern Russian conditions shown in the west of Europe in 1917. Students of modern Germany knew that the tremendous industrial progress of the country and the development of the means of communication within the last years had created such a national solidarity of interests between all parts of the empire that the old Mainlinie had lost most of its importance, except perhaps in questions of art and literature, although even there there was much less difference of late between Munich, Stuttgart, Berlin, and Düsseldorf than there used to be.

From my experiences at the front with prisoners and deserters from all parts of the German Empire, I should say that there is less difference in the state of

instance, than there would be in America between people from the Eastern and Western States. A Prussian will sometimes make a show of his contempt for the supposed military inferiority and lack of smartness of the Saxons, or a Bavarian may indulge in telling some of the popular saloon jokes about the "big mug" of the Prussians, but things will seldom go further. On the whole, the German-soldier type is pretty uniform. People who have witnessed the atrocities committed by the German soldiery in Belgium and northern France agree in saying that there was hardly any difference between the behavior of the men from the different parts of the German Empire. As far as any distinction could be made, the Saxons might be said to have behaved a little better, and the Bavarians to have been even worse than the average Prussian. This is probably due less to peculiarities of the national mind than to the fact that most of the Saxons belong to the industrial working class, and are on a higher level of culture, while the bulk of the Bavarians are peasants from the most backward districts of Germany as regards public morality and education.

It is true, all the same, that although Prussianism is by no means confined to Prussia, the latter is the most typical incarnation of the Hun spirit and our worst enemy in every respect. It has been said over and over again that the main stumbling-block to political democracy in the German Empire is the three-class system of vote for the Prussian Landtag, and the undemocratic privilege of that fortress of Junker-power, the Prussian Herrenhaus. But as the main stronghold of Prussianism is in Prussia, the main elements of its destruction are also to be found within the Prussian borders. The economic and political development of German capitalism, which has to such a large extent done away with the Mainlinie, has created social classes, and especially a proletariat in the cities and industrial districts of Prussia, which have proved, and will prove again, much worse enemies of Prussianism than any element outside of the black-and-white frontier posts. The weak spots of Prussianism are to be found not in Vienna, Munich, or Frankfort any more, but in the working-class dis

To sum up, the national causes of possible disruption in Germany are much less important than the social causes.

The main reason the German Government has for anxiety is the growth of the movement toward political and industrial democracy that is the natural outcome of the speedy industrial development of the country, and is increased in its effect by the growing pressure of war on the material conditions of life.

There never has been anything like a united democratic movement in Germany. Especially during the last score. of years the whole political situation of the country was so dominated by the economic class struggle of the proletariat that the democratic elements of the bourgeoisie had very little in common with social democracy as representing the political aspirations of the working class. The characteristic feature of political life in Germany before the war was that the bourgeois democratic elements were not only comparatively weak in number but also lacked energy in their politics. The stronger the Social Democratic party became, the weaker and meeker the bourgeois radicals. The menace of the constant increase in electoral strength of the Social Democratic party and of possible ultimate seizure of the political power by the party of the proletariat, drove more and more the bulk of the democratic voters into the ranks of the reactionary parties, which were looked upon as the only reliable bulwark against the rising tide of revolution. Things looked at one time as though there were no real democratic movement in Germany outside of social democracy, with the exception of a few Jewish financiers and journalists and a handful of incorrigible academic idealists, who had remained true to the democratic traditions of 1848.

All this seems to have changed fundamentally since the war, and especially within the last couple of years. At present the organs of bourgeois democracy, like the Zukunft, the Welt am Montag, the Frankfurter Zeitung, and the Berliner Tageblatt, use stronger language against the militaristic and imperialistic policy of the government than the Vorwärts, which is the chief exponent of the Social Democratic party or Government Socialists.

This situation originates from the fact that the sufferings among a certain section of the middle classes (the financial circles, professional classes, tradespeople, privateers, overseas exporters and importers, public officials, and people with a fixed income generally) are worse than those of the part of the working class that under normal circumstances would be the most energetic in its revolutionary policy. This part consists of the élite of skilled workers, who naturally form the most intelligent and determined section of the labor movement, but who happen to be to a certain extent reconciled to their conditions, since they earn higher wages in working for the war industries. Whether the individual wage rates have increased in the same proportion as the cost of living since the beginning of the war, is a matter of controversy. But even if it were not so, the fact that employment is plentiful since 1915, with constant occasions for an increase in earnings by working overtime, and especially that so many women, girls, and children have been dragged into munition-making and other war industries, certainly has resulted in considerable increase of the family earnings of this class of workers. It should be added that the main element in this class, which includes the bulk of the metal-workers, the intellectual backbone of the Socialist movement, enjoys the privilege of being in a large number of cases freed from service at the front, as so many of them are needed in the factories.

The causes which have inverted the usual ratio of the relative strength of bourgeois and proletarian democracy are probably bound to become less and less important as the war lasts. Once the material pressure on the conditions of life of the masses in Germany will have become strong enough, as I believe it eventually will, to create a real revolutionary current among the working classes, there is every likelihood that the fear of the resurrection of militant Socialism will again deprive the bourgeois radicals of much of their strength. The ruling classes in Germany already seem to dread the social consequences of the war. The necessities of the national war effort, by nationalizing their main industries and making the working class the decisive economic and military factor, have