mocracies against autocracies;--they are all tarred
with the same brush. In all countries the war has pointed out the
leaders to the vengeance of the people; that unworthy middle class,
political, financial, intellectual, that in a single century of power
has heaped on the world more exactions, crimes, ruins and follies,
than kings and churches had inflicted in ten centuries."

This is why when the axes of those heroic woodsmen, Lenine and
Trotzky, were heard in the forest, many oppressed hearts thrilled with
joy and hope, and in every country there was sharpening of hatchets.
The leading classes rose up against the common danger, all over
Europe, in both opposing camps. There was no negotiation needed for
them to reach an agreement on this subject, for their instinct spoke
loudly. The fiercest enemies of Germany, through the organs of the
_bourgeoisie_, tacitly gave a free hand to the Kaiser to strangle
Russian liberty which struck at the root of that social injustice on
which they all lived. In the absurdity of their hatred, they could not
conceal their delight when they saw Prussian Militarism--that monster
who afterwards turned on them--avenge them on these daring rebels.
Naturally this only increased the admiration for these excommunicated
defiers of the world, on the part of the down-trodden masses and the
small number of independent spirits.

The pot began to boil with a vengeance, and to stop it the governments
of Europe shut down the lid and sat on it. The stupid class in control
kept throwing fuel on the flame, and then wondered at the alarming
rumblings. This revolt of the elements was attributed to the wicked
designs of some free speakers, to mysterious intrigues, to the enemy's
gold, to the pacifists; and none of them saw--though a child would
have known it--that, if they wanted to prevent an explosion, the first
thing to do was to put out the fire. The god of all these powers was
force; no matter what they were called, empires, or republics, it was
the mailed fist, disguised, gloved but hard and sure of itself. It
became also, like a rising tide, the law of the oppressed, a dark
struggle between two contrary pressures. Where the metal had worn
thin--in Russia first--the boiler had burst. Where there were cracks
in the cover--as in neutral countries--the hissing steam escaped,
but a deceitful calm reigned over the countries at war, kept down by
oppression. To the oppressors this calm was reassuring; they w