It will be difficult, and I hope impossible, for the Allies to act in accordance with this latter view; though the German peasantry may have been so fed with lies that it will be unable to believe that our soldiers can be trusted to behave like civilized beings when the time has come for a forward march.  It is clear that riotous license is subversive of discipline, and conduces to defeat—­as it probably has in recent Continental experience.  For, although ancient warriors used to ravage a country, and although women have occasionally intervened in order to stop a battle, surely never before in the history of the world have women and children been forced forward in defense of a fighting line!  Yet undoubtedly war can be so conducted that foes mutually respect each other; indeed, save for the cowardly abomination of floating mines, this present war has been so conducted at sea.  I suggest that the fair procedure in case of invasion is for each civilian to choose whether to be a combatant or not, and to incur the danger of an affirmative choice in a sufficiently conspicuous and permanent manner.  I am, Sir, faithfully yours,

OLIVER LODGE, The University, Birmingham, Oct. 31.

What the German Conscript Thinks

By Arnold Bennett.

Copyright, 1914, by The New York Times Company.

Some hold that this is a war of Prussian militarism, and not a war of the German people.  This view has the merits of kindliness and convenience.  Others warn us not to be misled by such sentimentalists, and assert that the heart of the German people is in the war.  The point is of importance to us, because the work of the conscript in the field must be influenced by his private feelings.  Notwithstanding all drill and sergeantry, the German Army remains a collection of human beings—­and human beings more learned, if not better educated, than our own race!  It is not a mere fighting machine, despite the efforts of its leaders to make it into one.

Among those who assert that the heart of the German people is in the war are impartial and experienced observers who have carefully studied Germany for many years.  For myself, I give little value to their evidence.  To come at the truth by observation about a foreign country is immensely, overpoweringly difficult.  I am a professional observer:  I have lived in Paris and in the French provinces for nine years; I am fairly familiar with French literature and very familiar with the French language—­and I honestly would not trust myself to write even a shilling handbook about French character and life.  Nearly all newspapers are conservative; nearly all foreign correspondents adopt the official or conventional point of view; and the pictures of foreign life which get into the press are, as a rule—­shall I say incomplete?