"If only we could get at the Prussian military power, and spare the wretched soldiers—they are all sons and husbands, and somebody's darlings," Meg said pathetically.
"But we can't. It's their punishment, perhaps, poor devils, for having submitted to such an arrogant, absolute monarchy. To get at the rulers we have to slaughter the innocent. It sounds all wrong, but I know it's the only way."
"I suppose so," Margaret said. "But it does seem hard, just because they have been law-abiding, industrious, obedient subjects, they are to be slaughtered like sheep and made to do all sorts of cruel acts which will brand them for ever as barbarians in the eyes of the world. There must be thousands and thousands of them who are decent men."
"There is a saying that every country has the Government it deserves. They have got theirs. A German Liberal has written these words to-day, or something like them. He says, 'Peace and war are, after all, not so much the result of foreign policy (strange though it may appear) as the inevitable consequences of the inward constitution of the State. "International anarchy" is not a thing apart, but only the natural consequence of feudal military institutions. Hence away with these institutions.'"
"But will they ever away with them in Germany?"
"Not unless we, the Allies, crush the feudal military constitution; not until the people realize that their submission has brought this war upon themselves."
"But surely up to now we have admired law-abiding, uncomplaining peoples?"
"I haven't," Michael laughed. "You know I haven't."
"Oh no, you haven't! But then you're a firebrand, always 'agin the
Government.'"
"I always walked on my head." He hugged her as he spoke. "I'm doing it to-day, darling."