Frenchman and Frenchwoman give instruction in French.—VIII, Lerchengasse 10.
An Irishwoman, brought up in England, gives lessons.—Letters to Miss Morris.
Such advertisements, we learn from the International Review of July, 1915, appear daily in Vienna.
From Die Hilfe, June 22, 1915: “in a weekly concert in Noyon the collaborators were Prof. Rivière, Sergeant Bonhoff, and Director Günzel. The performance of the Frenchman from an organ composition of his own was most effective.” There are, of course, also exhibitions of narrow-mindedness. In Halle the police forbade a performance because one of those who took part was an “enemy alien.” (Vorwärts, June 1, 1915.) On the other hand, when some Italian musicians complained of unjust dismissal, the court awarded them damages of 700 marks. The Volksstimme, of Frankfurt a.M., June 8, 1915, writing of Italy, deprecates any hatred of Italians. As soon as the responsible authorities had decided on war, obedience was the duty of each Italian citizen, just as of each German.[69] This outspoken deference to “responsible authority” is characteristically German, but the doctrine is here applied with great fairness. Some of our militarists apply it less fairly. And, alas, when the Italian Avanti published an article “Against the Blunders of International Hate,” the wisdom of the Censor caused it to be largely blanked out. The Censors seem to have strict orders to keep us hating each other.[70]
Brotherhood Again.
And yet—“We picked up scrappily the hint, however, that ‘some of the Germans were all right.’” This from an article in the Times on a homecomer from the front. With unconscious self-revelation the writer adds: “That somehow sounds depressing. One has heard the opposite.” Just so, it is disconcerting and depressing to have it suggested that the enemy is a man very much like ourselves; it injures our feeling of superiority. We “confess” any favourable impression of him as if it were a fault of our own. A correspondent of the Petit Parisien tells of the capture of a German officer of Hussars, near Arras. “I confess,” he says, “that the impression he produced was rather favourable than otherwise.” (Daily Telegraph, June 11, 1915.)
With others the confession is less reluctant.
There’s one spot in Ploegsteert Wood that German shells ought never to reach. It’s a grave with a carefully made wooden cross on it, and the lettering says:
“Here lie two gallant German officers.”
“That’s rather unexpected,” said a civilian who was with us.