existence, which, for the space of forty years, has rested
on a nervous anticipation of war with her neighbors.
Germany's offensive is a strategical manoeuvre. As a
matter of fact, she is fighting like a wild animal
surrounded on all sides. And, of course, she will carry on
the war until the last degree of exhaustion is reached. She
has accumulated within her many forces--technical forces.
Mere technical forces cannot stand their ground in the end.
But no little time must still elapse. And the war _must_
continue for a long time still, if the "nest of militarism"
is to be annihilated.

But, on the other hand, _can_ it continue a long time? We
Russians have a complete right to say, with conviction: Yes.
Ten months of war have plainly demonstrated that we still
possess a land which is still intact, and personal and
economic forces.

To the east of the Dnieper and Moscow the war is hardly felt
at all. This is particularly true of the principal
foundations of our life--the peasant country parts numbering
their hundred millions. The villages have sent to the war
millions of young men, and even fathers of families, heads
of households. Many tears have already been shed in the
country, and there are many orphans, many cripples. But the
peasant countryside has not suffered economically. On the
contrary, after ten months of war and closed liquor-shops,
it has reconstructed itself and smartened itself up to a
noteworthy degree. The fields have been sown. From among the
huge mass only those laboring hands have been withdrawn for
the war which would not have remained at home in any case,
but would have been lured away to earn money elsewhere.

The same thing is observable also in the towns. The masses
in the towns have increased their deposits in the savings
banks tenfold, while consuming more meat than before the
war, and resorting less frequently to the loan banks.
Information made its way out of Germany long ago to the
effect that all the males there, with the exception of
decrepit old men and small children, have been called to the
army. The peculiar "crisis in men" in Berlin has frequently
served as a subject of jest in the humorous press.

In Russia, every railway station swarms with young, healthy,
powerful porters who