d think that
the French were brave; only misled by their Government. And the
Kaiser? His eyes lighted in a way that suggested that the Kaiser was
almost a god to him. He had heard of the things that the British said
against the Kaiser and they made him want to fight for his Kaiser. He
was only one German--but the one was millions.

In actual learning which comes from schoolbooks, I think that he was
better informed than the average Frenchman of his class; but I
should say that he had thought less; that his mind was more of a hot-
house product of a skilful nurseryman's hand, who knew the value of
training and feeding and pruning the plant if you were to make it yield
well. A kindly, willing, likable boy, peculiarly simple and unspoiled, it
seemed a pity that all his life he should have to bear the brand of the
Lusitania on his brow; that event which history cannot yet put in its
true perspective. Other races will think of the Lusitania when they
meet a German long after the Belgian atrocities are forgotten. It will
endure to plague a people like the exile of the Acadians, the
guillotining of innocents in the French Revolution, and the burning of
the Salem witches. But he had nothing to do with it. A German
admiral gave an order as a matter of policy to make an impression
that his submarine campaign was succeeding and to interfere with
the transport of munitions, and the Kaiser told this boy that it was
right. One liked the boy, his loyalty and his courage; liked him as a
human being. But one wished that he might think more. Perhaps he
will one of these days, if he survives the war.

VII
How The Kaiser Leads

Only a week before I had seen wounded Germans in the freight shed
at Calais; and all the prisoners that I had seen elsewhere, whether in
ones or twos, brought in fresh from the front or in columns under
escort, had been Germans. The sharpest contrast of all in war which
the neutral may observe is seeing the men of one army which, from
the other side, he had watched march into battle--armed, confident,
disciplined parts of an organization, ready to sweep all before them in
a charge--become so many sheep, disarmed, disorganized, rounded
up like vagrants in a bread-line and surrounded by a fold of barbed
wire and sentries.

Such was the lot of the nine thousand British, French, and Russians
whom I saw at Doeberitz, near Berlin. This was a show camp, I was
told, but it suffices. Conditions at other