Very different is the position as regards the seceding body, that of the Christliche Volkspartei. I attended a meeting of the new party, and fell among proceedings which were refreshingly lively. It was a curious audience, generally speaking on a plane just above working-class level, but including more well-to-do and moneyed interests. They were not a pleasant set of people. Some looked fanatics; others undiluted scamps. A large number of women were present who cheered with great vigour. Enthusiasm was boundless, but was countered at the back of the hall by very definite opposition. When the speakers and candidates took their place on the platform, cheers greeted the appearance of a sinister-looking priest with intrigue written all over him. This was the celebrated Father Kastert, whose political activities of late have made no small stir in the Rhineland. The various candidates got to work, and I have never heard texts and Christian ideals hurled about a platform with such vigour, and, according to English standards, with such entire lack of reserve. Several of the speakers, judging by their appearance, might have engaged in shady commerce, which made their declamations about the supreme importance of religious education the more interesting. Shortly after the meeting began, a blind gentleman, venerable in appearance and with a large white beard, was shepherded with ostentatious care on to the platform. I suspected a trophy, judging by the exaggerated marks of respect with which he was received by Father Kastert and his friends. He was, in fact, a leading supporter of the Zentrum, who had seceded to the new party. The old gentleman was propped up, and when he began to speak, despite his tottering steps and shaking hands, proved a veritable Bull of Bashan. The Sermon on the Mount and the Temptation in the Wilderness formed part of a political pot-pourri mixed up with the misdeeds of the Social Democrats. I was sitting by chance among a nest of zealots, who greeted these remarks with hysterical applause. A youth, still wearing field grey, suddenly jumped up in emphatic protest. General uproar resulted. “Aus mit dem Kerl!” shouted several ladies round me. My spirits rose at the prospect of seeing some one turned out with German thoroughness, but the young man thought better of it, and sat down again hastily. The chairman rang his bell, and after a time the meeting proceeded. Among this curious company of hypocrites applauding principles clearly remote from their practice I was struck by one working-man candidate, who spoke with obvious sincerity as well as simplicity. No workman, he said, could look for joy in his work unless that work were grounded in Christ. Christ was the root, Christ was the foundation, Christ was the workman’s stay and support. Happily in England we do not discuss the Founder of Christianity on political platforms after the manner of this meeting. But in this solitary case the note of sincerity rang true, and