harmless further inland—a danger in Brighton but not in Birmingham, in Hull but not in Halifax. The official mind as it has been revealed in the explanation—and, the other day, in the 'rounding up' explanation—would have bewildered even so cunning a psychologist as William James. The one thing that is painfully clear in the whole business is that the War Office is putting the Defence of the Realm Act to irritating and arbitrary uses such as the House of Parliament never intended, and such as are indefensible on grounds of common sense."
The "Nation," September 16, 1916
". . . . A second example lies before us of this military attempt at the destruction of free thought and of its legitimate and necessary means of expression. We referred last week to the War Office interdict, the object of which is to prohibit Mr. Bertrand Russell from delivering a series of arranged lectures on political philosophy . . . the War Office came to the conclusion that Mr. Russell's treatment of them might be regarded as 'propaganda.' . . . Therefore it decided that unless Mr. Russell would pledge himself to abstain from using these ancient intellectual symbols as a 'vehicle for propaganda,' he should be forbidden to deal with them at all. There indeed the interrogation stops. These military metaphysicians omit to specify what 'propaganda' they wish to stop. Probably the propaganda of Thought, which has never been popular at the War Office. The nation which rushed into the fray with the one watchword of 'freedom' on its lips is to sit mumchance, when—looking
