upon the whole war. Our Allies are pleasantly surprised by the amazing development of our military strength and resources; they are disappointed, though they may be too polite to say so, at the comparative weakness of our maritime policy. It is true we have hunted the German commerce from blue water, and enabled millions of men, and tens of millions of tons of stores and munitions, to be transported across the seas. This is much; but it is not enough. More was looked for, and with justice.

It was believed, at home and abroad, that the naval superiority of the Allies would paralyze the maritime energy of the enemy, and go far to offset his own superiority in organization and equipment on land. An insistent and relentless offensive would shake his nerves, menace h's coasts, and inflict upon him the demoralization that accompanies a feeble and ineffective strategy of defense. What human being could have imagined that in the fourth year of the war Britain, not Germany, would be on the defensive; that the British battle fleet would have only succeeded in fighting a single great naval action, and that an indecisive one; that the enemy's coasts and harbors would be immune while our own were constantly raided; that British vessels could often be sunk by hostile agency within a stone's throw of our beaches; that British commerce would be held up by a blockade which intercepted and destroyed cargo by the hundred thousand tons weekly?

The first letter of our political alphabet is that we must keep the command of the sea or perish. Have we the command of the sea? On paper, and by the rules of arithmetic, we possess it as no Power or combination of Powers ever did before. We cannot, of course, say what our present naval force is. But taking the published

pre-war figures the British, American, French, Japanese, and Italian navies count something like four times as many battleships and cruisers as the German and Austrian; and the proportion is now probably higher, for we have been building with frantic speed during the war and adding new and mightier units to that Grand Fleet which is locked away about our estuaries. It is astounding and disheartening that this overwhelming armada cannot prevent some wo or three hundred German submarines from playing havoc with the world's commerce: that it can do little apparently but wait and watch, and bid us eat less food and build more merchant ships, in the hope that only some of these will be sent to the bottom. It is we who are on the defensive, a singularly tame and humiliating defensive for the first time almost in our naval records.

The cardinal axiom of Mahan, and every other writer of repute on maritime war, is that the function of the stronger fleet is to seize the initiative and keep it. The fight should be carried right up to the enemy's sea frontier and waged there with remorseless energy. Tha is what our best sailors wanted to do, and intended to do, at the outset till they were held back and turned away from the enterprise by the politicians. Here the Dardanelles Report is extremely instructive. It is evident, from the account of the famous War Council of 28 January, 1915, and from other passages, that this was the plan of action which Lord Fisher and Admiral Wilson had in mind and were preparing to execute. They opposed the Dardanelles Expedition because it would divert force from the paramount purpose. The Commissioners decline to state what the Admirals' objective was; but their references and omissions leave no doubt upon

the matter. It is plain tha Lord Fisher and Sir Arthur Wilson proposed to carry the war into German waters, to set up a close blockade of the North Sea coasts, to dig out or stop up the submarine earths, perhaps to let the Navy fight its way into the Baltic, and generally to take aggressive steps of one kind or another against the enemy's bases and his fleets. It was with this end that monitors and other new and strange craft had been constructed; and it was to pave the way for these movements that the combined air and naval attack was made upon Cuxhaven, an attack which if it had been followed up and repeated again and again would have shaken Ge many more than a whole series of bloody battles on the Meuse. It was never followed up. The whole offensive scheme was vetoed by the Cabinet; not merely because they wanted the ships for the Dardanelles, but because they thought the alternative policy intolerably dangerous and impracticable. But was it? Here we have a conflict of authority. On the one side were Lord Fisher, the chief professional expert, and Sir Arthur Wilson, recognized as the greatest living naval commander and strategist. These eminent sailors urged the offensive; they were overruled by a group of lawyers and party politicians and an ex-lieutenant of cavalry. The sailors resigned or sulked into silence; the amateurs and talkers abandoned the tradition of all our naval history and told their admirals-some of them, unhappily, timid men only too willing to receive the advice-that they must above all things be cautious and take no chances. The results we see today.

The spirit of the Navy is as fine as ever. That is shown by the magnificent daring of the destroyers at the Horn Reef, by the splendid dash and skill of the "Broke" and her consort in that brilliant little fight in the

Channel, and by many other episodes in this war. But a chill seems to have settled upon the higher command. There has been a reluctance to run risks and accept responsibility, a strange and novel disposition to play for safety, as if the uncertain game of war could ever be won in that fashion. Have we forgotten that some of our most signal triumphs at sea were gained by commanders who faced desperate hazards: as when Nelson steered his fleet among the Nile sands, and when Hawke "took the foe for pilot and the cannon's glare for light," and threw his ships into the rocks and shoals of Quiberon Bay?

In this war our admirals have shown a different temper. The idea of rushing the Dardanelles by naval force alone was sufficiently foolish; yet we have it on the authority of Enver Pasha himself that the thing could have been done if we had pushed on resolutely and risked the loss of a few more vessels. At the battle of the Falkland Islands Sir Frederick Sturdee was so anxious not to get his ships hurt that he never closed to short range, and spent several hours in disposing of a squadron immeasurably weaker than his own in gun-power and speed. We are satisfied with the highly unsatisfactory battle of Jutland, and acclaim our Commander-in-Chief a master of tactics, though he allowed a far inferior fleet to escape with very little more damage than it inflicted. One wonders what they would have said in the days of Rodney or Duncan if a British admiral with, say, thirty of the line had come upon a French or Dutch fleet of twenty-two and had been content to drive it back to harbor instead of crippling or annihilating it. What they would have said (and done) in the days of Byng we know.

The battle of Jutland was a British

victory, but it was not the kind of victory which would have gratified our forefathers. In the summer of 1805 Sir Robert Calder, with fifteen sail of the line, encountered Villeneuve off Cape Finisterre with twenty-seven. In spite of this disparity of force Calder attacked the enemy; but after fighting an indecisive engagement he broke off the action and allowed the French and Spaniards to escape with the loss of two ships. For this he was recalled, deprived of his command, court-martialed, and reprimanded. It did not occur to anybody to load him with honors and promote him to the highest post at the Admiralty.

Is it too late even now to abandon our supine defensive and make full use of the immense naval superiority of the Allies? We must hope not, though the position is far more difficult than it was three years or two years ago. Yet it seems that the difficulties must be met and the risks taken. We cannot break the U-boat blockade by waiting till some heaven-born American genius invents a patent mechanical antidote to submarines, or by piling up cargo ships at a rather slower rate than the enemy is destroying them. The bold offensive, which might have ended the war long ago if it had been adopted when Lord Fisher and Sir Arthur Wilson wished, must be resumed. Rumor suggests that this is the meaning of the latest shifts and changes in the WhiteThe Saturday Review.

hall general staff. But it is not of much avail to weed out the secondary officials when there is weakness at the top. If Sir Eric Geddes has the firmness and insight with which he is credited he will disembarrass himself of his chief professional adviser. Sir John Jellicoe is an amiable and highminded gentleman, a most distinguished and, within his limits, a very capable naval officer. But he has shown himself too ready to accept the over-cautious program of the politicians. He has been so obsessed by the idea of the Fleet in being that he has missed his opportunities for delivering an effective stroke with his cherished Dreadnoughts and battle-cruisers; he has restrained rather than stimulated the fighting quality of the Navy; he lacks the resolution, the swift energy, the strategic instinct, which the situation demands. In any case, he has been exposed to the strain of supreme direction, on sea or on shore, for three years, and that is more than most men can stand with impunity. He should be invited to take the repose he has earned, and his place should be filled by an officer who has studied the history of maritime war, who possesses vigor as well as judgment, and who is determined that the British Navy shall be guided by the principles and methods which gave us success and security in the past and have never failed us yet when rightly applied.

There are two schools of opinion regarding the news which filters through the vigilance of the German censorship. The one accepts every report which presents the internal conditions of the Cent al Empires in a favorable light, and dismisses as travelers' tales

all evidence that points to a weakening of the enemies' resources as a result of the pressure of our blockade. The other school errs on the side of credulity. It accepts without discrimination every statement which tends to prove that Germany is on the point of economic

collapse: that her population is about to rise in desperation and rend the leaders who have brought it to such a pass. As for Austria, six months after the outbreak of war her condition was held to be moribund. Does the truth lie with either of these conflicting estimates? There is evidence of a sort to support both, but there is nothing to choose between their trustworthiness. Leaving Austria-Hungary out of the picture for the moment, it is as false to assume that Germany is unaffected by the stoppage of the bulk of her supplies as to suppose that her people have been reduced to actual starvation. It is in the loose use of the word "starvation" that the mistake is made. No nation could hold out for a week if it were actually starving. The population of Paris was finally "starved" into submission: as long as there was food of any kind and of sufficient quantity to keep body and soul together the defense could be prolonged. But at what a cost! No estimate can be formed of the after and permanent effects of the wastage of tissue and vitality caused by months of malnutrition. And only one city was involved. If the process is applied to a whole people, to the old and young, the workers upon whom depend the supplies of the sinews of war, the very fighting men in the field of war, the collective effect, moral and physical, may be disastrous both for the present and future generations long before the stage of starvation is reached. A nation cannot go underfed, not for a week or a month, but for an indefinite period, without having to pay a heavy reckoning in the future. A badly nourished body becomes a prey to all the ills that flesh is heir to. Endurance may be protracted to the point of complete prostration without fatal results, but it is likely to be at a cost which years of plenty cannot make good.

Is there, then, reliable information

pointing to a general condition of privation in Germany? We are of the opinion that there is, and especially during the present interval between the two harvests. Certain facts cannot be concealed by the most drastic control of Intelligence Departments, and State regulations for the conservation of food supplies have to be made public. From these sources it can be safely assumed that the enemy is passing through an acute crisis, and that the prospects of the future hold small hope that there will be any material improvement. Rations have been reduced in the case of most of the essential commoditiesfor instance, the allowance of flour was increased to make good the shortage of potatoes; this in turn has been reduced. The quality of the bread has deteriorated proportionately. That supplied to the workmen of Krupps' is said to be composed of one-quarter adulterated flour and three-quarters turnips. It is described as causing a "painful distension of the stomach." The potato ration has been reduced from five to two, or at most three pounds a week, and the uneven distribution is a cause of much exasperation. Only a "tolerable harvest" is anticipated. The hay crop has been a disappointment, and the drought has affected the pasturage, with a consequence that the lack of feeding stuffs is having he double result of restricting the supplies of milk and butter and of causing immature livestock to be slaughtered. A typical example of the severer rationing may be given by a comparison of the bill of fare fixed for workers in Krupps'-surely a privileged class, if any!-in 1915 and that for 1917:

1915-Early breakfast, 5.45 A.M.; four slices of bread, with butter or fresh lard, cheese or sausage, and coffee. Second breakfast, 8 A.M.: bread and cheese, sandwiches and coffee. Dinner, 12 midday: meat or fish, po

tatoes and gravy in unlimited quantities. 4 P.M.: coffee. Supper: soup, meat or fish, potatoes, peas, rice or hominy.

April 1917-Breakfast: two slices of dry bread, with coffee. Dinner: turnips cut up and boiled on one day, next day boiled weed, turnip or beet leaves, and a few scraps of potato. Supper: maize soup and a piece of turnip or beet. Bread, 250 grammes per day, but men doing hard manual labor receive 500 grammes of bread a day and are allowed to buy 500 grammes of horseflesh per week. Twice a week the soup is a little more substantial and contains a few peas or hominy and bits of walrus or seal flesh.

These details are not taken from idle gossip, but are from a reliable medium. It is a fair supposition that if Krupps' workers fare so badly, the less essential classes of civilians come off worse. Nor are the soldiers on active service in much more favorable circumstances. Formerly each unit was given a loaf of bread per day: now a two-pound loaf has to serve for three Boches. Tinned meat is a luxury reserved for once a week, and a small ration of fresh meat is a rare event. Food substitutes have multiplied with the growing stringency, and as many of these are harmful, as well as being unsatisfying, the Gov

The Outlook.

ernment has made vain attempts to suppress them, under heavy penalties.

We have given these few facts merely as an indication of the present economic conditions in Germany. They could be extended to fill pages, and we see no reason to doubt the authority upon which they have been accepted. The situation in Austria is certainly as bad, and probably is much more acute. To the shortage of supplies may be added the congestion of the railways and the deterioration of the rolling stock, difficulties which will become accentuated when the water traffic is suspended by the frost. The question as to how long these privations can be endured is not one which we are prepared to answer. Such a calculation could be only conjectural. The purpose of this article is to advocate a sane mean between the view that the Central Empires are suffering no detriment from the Allies' command of the seas and the view that the German peoples are reduced to their last gasp. Starvation may be no more likely to end the war than sea-power, but the prospect of another banyan winter may go far to bring the enemy to a reasonable appreciation of his true position.

In a little pocket booklet, bound in khaki-colored paper, the Houghton Mifflin Company publish a collection of hymns and prayers and Bible readings for the use of the army and navy. The selections are well chosen, and it is to be hoped that the little booklet may find a place in many a soldier's and sailor's "kit."

In a small volume called "The Christian Ministry and Social Problems" (The Macmillan Co.) Bishop Charles D. Williams of Michigan

discusses the relations of the churches and their ministers to the practical, every-day questions of social justice, economic and industrial reform, and social readjustment and reconstruction. He writes with vigor and a commendable plainness of speech, calculated to arouse both ministers and laymen to a keener sense of the present-day obligations and opportunities of Christian believers.

Edward Earle Purinton's "Pétain the Prepared" (Fleming H. Revell