as to the part played by the Kaiser’s Government during the war. “The German people have been lied to, and deceived, and betrayed,” cried the speaker. “We were told that the U-boat campaign would bring England to her knees in three months!” German mentality is a baffling thing, but I hardly expected that this remark would be received with shouts of good-natured laughter. The long arm of England’s sea-power has been no laughing matter for Germany, but throughout this campaign I was specially struck with the absence of hostility shown to England. Even at the Volkspartei meetings I listened in vain for the note which shows itself unmistakable when an audience is deeply roused. The justice and fair dealing which have marked the British Occupation have contributed primarily to this end. A quaint little woman dressed in black came on to the platform to make a few remarks during the discussion. At first she was almost inaudible, but her voice gathered force and courage as she proceeded. She had been a Red Cross nurse during the war, so she said. Nothing could have been more scandalous than the pilfering by the officers in charge of stores and comforts destined for wounded men. She had to stand by helplessly and watch robbery and corruption of all kinds going on at the expense of the sufferers. “These heroes who filled their pockets,” she concluded naïvely, “always declared they were great patriots. Please vote to-morrow for the patriotism of the Social Democrats, which won’t rob sick men.” Even more pathetic was the appeal of a working-man on whom disease had clearly laid a fatal hand. He addressed the meeting as “dear brothers and sisters,” which raised a laugh. But there was nothing comic about the few words spoken. He had starved, so he said, during the war. Wars meant nothing but misery and starvation. Let them support the Social Democrats and then there would be no more war. He was followed by a Communist youth, who in languid and superior tones struck the first note of dissent by adjuring those present at the meeting not to vote at all. If, however, they felt irresistibly driven to the polls, the only mitigation of a bad act would be to vote for the Independent Socialists. General uproar resulted from this advice, a fat man near me rising from his seat and shouting with fury, “I know how you’ll vote. You’re the sort that votes Zentrum.” The Communist highbrow did not stop to see the end of the storm he had provoked, but, having said his say, discreetly fled before Herr Meerfeld could deliver a highly chastening reply. He left the hall pursued by the execrations of my neighbour, who showed signs of vaulting over the chairs and continuing the argument in more forcible fashion in the street. The general tone of the meeting, apart from this incident, was serious and appreciative, but it lacked any of that electric quality which thrills a party on the eve of victory. I came away uneasy as to the result--an uneasiness more than justified by the issue.