hundred thousand American soldiers would not only be a great moral force, but would impart fresh vigor to the national resistance. No one denied the truth of these statements, but cogitating on them one is led to certain reflections, and they are: With an army of four millions of men, why is it they were able to put only a million and a half on the front? I understand that men were needed for munition factories, for the essential industries that provide for war consumption, and for the maintenance of the civil population; that fields must be tilled, mines must be worked, water power must be guarded, and railways must be manned. These things have to be done in every country, but soldiers do not do them. Other countries have militarized workmen, but they do not count them when they are enumerating the man strength of their army. In reality Italy had called to the colors all her healthy men between eighteen and forty-five in order that she might more easily manage them, govern them, discipline them. The outsider who sees Italy through the veil of her statesmen's oratory and polemics knows her only pleasantly masked. One is led to think sometimes that they are more concerned with the appearance than the substance. It often looks as if they were banking too much upon her great and glorious past, and not looking to the furthering of conditions that make for the happiness and efficiency of their people. The conditions produced by the war have reminded the politicians in control that the people love their government in proportion to the benefits they derive from it, and I fancy it has at times felt that the people were not giving it that strong support which is rooted in love and consideration. "Four-fifths of the Italians have always lived on the war footing," said Prime Minister Orlando in one of his speeches to Parliament. He meant to convey that the Italians, being accustomed to hardships and sacrifices, could stand war better than others. He claimed to see in this a source of strength. Yet he must have known that the soldiers lying down by the roadside in the days of Caporetto, awaiting with Mohammedan indifference the coming of the Austrians, were replying to the officers who were urging them to retreat to some place of reorganization: "We have always lived on polenta, and we shall always have it, and it will always taste the same even if the Austrians win." Though not responsible for the sins of the past, it seems incredible that the authorities were not aware of this wide-spread feeling among the people.