German unity was economic rather than political in its origin and dates from the Zollverein and the railway system. Germany was made a nation economically by railway construction in the '`forties'; though, unfortunately, the attempt to realise this unity politically on a liberal basis, in 1848, failed. Even in the present Constitution, we can recognise the degree to which the railways are relied on for binding the country together across the mediæval barriers of provincial frontiers. It was to some extent realisation of its political importance that made the German railway system the pride of the country; and it was the manner in which this system met the extraordinary demands of modern warfare that enabled Germany to exploit strategically to the full its internal position and fight a war on four fronts. And now the condition of the railways is a striking illustration of the economic and political conditions of the country. Here is an account of a journey from Berlin to Munich undertaken last Easter. In peace time, if you wanted to go to Munich from Berlin there were half a dozen trains daily which did the journey in seven or eight hours, and provided reading cars, eating cars, and sleeping cars at a rate no more than an English third-class fare. Even after the war one train daily only took eighteen hours, and the second-class carriages, though very crowded, were comfortable enough. So, when I was warned that if I wanted to see the Russian Communist _régime_ in Munich at work I must lose no time, it seemed worth spending Easter week examining whether Russian Bolshevism can take root in Germany. As a matter of fact, I got just twenty-four hours in Munich, the rest of the week going in travelling. The first difficulty was a strike of bank clerks, so that I had to leave short of money. The next was that owing to the coal strike all passenger trains in Saxony had stopped running, and the only route open was round by Frankfort. The Spa night express was, of course, running; a long train of sleepers for the Allied officers and official or officious personages, and a few ordinary carriages. Thanks to some British Tommies, for whom a first-class carriage was reserved, failing to turn up, I got a seat, and so comfortably enough to Cassel about dawn. There I found that the suspension of passenger traffic had been extended, and that a hundred miles of dead country lay between me and Würtemberg, where trains still ran. Fortunately, a party of prisoners from England were being sent south on a goods train, and I got leave from the Red Guard to join them. The station officials objected strongly, but the prisoners, some of whom had been reading _The Daily News_, overruled them.