ose a logical fallacy, but I am not fond of the
attempt to obscure by logic-chopping what is a writer's real meaning.
I will therefore say that, as far as I can make out, what this
particular writer really believes is that the German people, through
some innate and incurable frowardness of disposition, have turned
the inestimable blessings of compulsory soldiership to their own
moral undoing, and have made themselves wholly bad and beastly,
in spite of a beneficent institution which would have made them
good and even pleasant.

Here I take leave to differ, and to range myself on the side of
Burke. Great, indeed--nay, incalculable--is "the mastery of laws,
institutions, and government over the character and happiness of
man." The system is known by its fruits. We may think as badly as we
like of the Germans--as badly as they deserve--but we must remember
the "laws, institutions, and government" that have dominated their
national development. And this is not only a matter of just and
rational thinking, but is also a counsel of safety for ourselves. If,
as a result of this war, we allow our personal and social liberties
(rightly suspended for the moment) to be permanently abolished or
restricted; and, above all, if we bend our necks to the yoke of a
military despotism; we shall be inviting a profound degradation of
our national character. It would indeed be a tragical consummation
of our great fight for Freedom if, when it is over, the other nations
could point to us and say: "England has sunk to the moral level
of Germany."

V

_REVOLUTION--AND RATIONS_

"A revolution by due course of law." This, as we have seen, was
the Duke of Wellington's description of the Reform Act of 1832,
which transferred the government of England from the aristocracy
to the middle class. Though eventually accomplished by law, it
did not pass without bloodshed and conflagration; and timid people
satisfied themselves that not only the downfall of England, but
the end of the world, must be close at hand.

Twenty years passed, and nothing in particular happened. National
wealth increased, all established institutions seemed secure, and
people began to forget that they had passed through a revolution.
Then arose John Bright, reminding the working-men of the Midlands
that their fathers "had shaken the citadel of Privilege to its
base," and inciting them to give the tottering structure another
push. A second revolution seemed to be drawin