d philosophical meditation on culture in its highest form.

Last night I was strangely moved, having an opportunity of
seeing a convoy of prisoners and speaking to one of them, a
colleague, a classical philologist from Vigeac. Such a frank,
intelligent man, with an excellent military training, as indeed
were all the company with him! He told me how terrible it had
been to endure the firing of our machine-guns (demoralisant, he
called it)--and showed me clearly the utter senselessness of
war. How we should like to be friends with people so like us in
education, habits of life, thought and interest.

We soon got into conversation about a book on Rousseau and
began a regular argument, like two old philologists. He saw the
ribbon in my button-hole and when he heard it was the Iron Cross
he said: "Felicitations!" His sparkling interest in the striped
ribbon seemed to me so characteristic of a Southern Frenchman
and very touching.

How alike we are in worth and merit! How untrue all these tales
told by our papers of the French being broken and spent! Just as
untrue as all that the _Temps_ writes about us. And all he said,
this French colleague of mine, betrayed so much independent
thought and respect for German mind and character. Why should
we, fated to be friends, always be divided? I was deeply
troubled, and sat there for a long time lost in thought, but all
my brooding brought me no solution.

And the end not in sight yet, the end of this war, that for six
months has been gorging itself with human life and prosperity
and happiness! The same feeling amongst us and amongst them!
Always the same picture! We are so much alike, we achieve the
same, we suffer the same, just because we happen to be such
bitter enemies.--(From the _International Review_.)

The following is another extract given by M. Romain Rolland. It is taken
from the letter of a German soldier to a Swiss professor:

The longing for peace is intense with us. At least with all
those who are at the front, forced to kill and to be killed. The
newspapers say that it is not possible to stem the war-like
passion of the soldiers. They lie, knowingly or unknowingly. Our
pastors deny that this passion is abating. You cannot think how
indignant we are at such nonsense. Let them hold their tongues
and not speak of things th