“The war was a crusade to us then,” a German professor said to me; “we felt that France and Russia had been steadily preparing war for years. We felt that they were only awaiting an opportunity. The Russians mobilised long before we did. They drove us to it.” It was in that spirit, he told me, that the German volunteer armed himself in August 1914. “But of course,” he said, “it didn’t last long. The glamour went soon enough. And now, well, all we want is that the war should cease.” And in the spring of 1918 the individual outlook in many ways resembled that of France and England. There was the same talk of profiteers, of the men who dreaded the cessation of hostilities, of the ministers who were clinging to office. There was the old talk of those who had not suffered in the war. It was all very well for the rich, they could buy butter, they did not have to starve. They managed to find soft jobs behind the lines. They did not want the war to stop. Indeed, the resentment against the “shirkers” and “profiteers” was more acute than the hatred of the Allies. For after all, emotions like love and hate are not collective. One can only hate the thing one knows. And from conversations with this German professor emerged the spiritual odyssey of his nation. The change from enthusiasm came apparently very quickly; probably because the Alliance suffered so heavily in loss of life, and because its internal troubles were so great. The war weariness had not taken long to settle; for many months peace had seemed the only desirable end, and victory in the field was regarded as important only in as far as it appeared the safest road to this goal. Victory _qua_ victory they no longer desired. This the Imperialists and pan-Germans must have realised, and they had made it their business to persuade their people that without victory peace was impossible. A significant illustration of this is afforded by the change of catchword, as displayed on public notices. Below some of the early photographs of the Crown Prince was printed “Durch Kampf zum Sieg”--“Through battle to victory,” and this represented the early attitude; but by the time that we had arrived in Germany this had been changed. On many of the match-boxes was a picture of a soldier and a munition worker shaking hands, and beneath was written, “Durch Arbeit zum Sieg: Durch Sieg zum Frieden.” This was what the Imperialists had to keep before the people if they wished to retain their office and their ambitions. The people were no longer prepared to sacrifice themselves for some abstract conception of glory and honour. They wanted peace, and as long as their armies were able to conquer in the field they were prepared to believe that that was the way to peace. But if their hopes proved unfounded, they were in a state of readiness to seek what they wanted by other means. It was no longer “zum Sieg” but “durch Sieg”; and in view of what has since happened, I think, this is an important thing to grasp.