Condensed from the Leading Reviews

While the armies and generals of the belligerents are trying to execute by force the policies of their respective Governments, their publicists are not less busy in the work of voicing the national aspirations. Moreover, such a critical examination of the status of each armed Power, from its own standpoint and in comparisons and contrasts with its opponents, has never been conducted before the peoples of the world. It is a time of national heart-searchings, both among the warring nations and of neutrals whose destinies are only less affected. Résumés of this great process as reflected in the world's leading reviews appear below, beginning with the British publications.

Germany’s Long-Nourished Powers

THAT Germany has been preparing forty years for this war is flatly contradicted by J. Ellis Barker in his article entitled "The Secret of Germany's Strength," appearing in the Nineteenth Century and After for July.

Not forty years, but for 260 years, since Frederick William, the Great Elector, came to the Prussian throne, the slow-growing plants of German efficiency and thoroughness have steadily unfolded, Mr. Barker says, in the administrative, military, financial, and economic policy that make modern Germany. It was the Great Elector who "ruthlessly and tyrannously suppressed existing self-government in his possessions, and gave to his scattered and parochially minded subjects a strong sense of unity," thus clearing the way for his successors. Frederick William I. founded in the Prussia prepared by his grandfather "a perfectly organized modern State, a model administration, and created a perfectly equipped and ever ready army." Of him Mr. Barker says:

The German people are often praised for their thoroughness, industry, frugality, and thrift. These qualities are not natural to them. They received them from their rulers, and especially from Frederick William the First. He was an example to his people, and his son carried on the paternal tradition. Both Kings acted not only with thoroughness, industry, frugality, and economy, but they enforced these qualities upon their subjects. Both punished idlers of every rank of society, even of the most exalted. The regime of Thorough prevailed under these Kings who ruled during seventy-three years. These seventy-three years of hard training gave to the Prussian people those sterling qualities which are particularly their own, and by which they can easily be distinguished from the easy-going South Germans and Austrians who have not similarly been disciplined.

While the Great Elector prepared the ground, and King Frederick William I. firmly laid the foundations, "Frederick the Great erected thereon the edifice of modern Germany." Mr. Barker adds:

Among the many pupils of Frederick the Great was Bismarck. It is no exaggeration to say that the writings which Frederick the Great addressed to posterity are the arcana imperii of modern Germany. Those who desire to learn the secret of Germany's strength, wealth, and efficiency, should therefore most carefully study the teachings of Frederick the Great.

Frederick's "Political Testament" of 1752 addressed to his successors begins with the significant words:

"The first duty of a citizen consists in serving his country. I have tried to fulfil that duty in all the different phases of my life."

Frederick William I. looked out for the education of his successors in his own militarist ideals. Instructing Major Borcke in 1751 on the tutoring of his grand-nephew, the Heir-Presumptive of Prussia, he wrote:

It is very important that he should love the Army. Therefore he must be told at all occasions and by all whom he meets that men of birth who are not soldiers are pitiful wretches. He must be taken to see the troops drilling as often as he likes. He ought to be shown the Cadets, and be given five or six of them to drill. That should be an amusement for him, not a duty. The great point is that he should become fond of military affairs, and the worst that could happen would be if he should become bored with them. He should be allowed to talk to all, to cadets, soldiers, citizens and officers, to increase his self-reliance.

A thorough monarchist, who noted that "when Sweden was turned into a republic it became weak," Frederick the Great preached a doctrine not different from that which inspires the speeches of Kaiser Wilhelm II. when he said in his "Political Testament" of 1752:

As Prussia is surrounded by powerful states my successors must be prepared for frequent wars. The soldiers must be given the highest positions in Prussia for the same reason for which they received them in ancient Rome when that State conquered the world. Honors and rewards stimulate and encourage talent and praise arouses men to a generous emulation. It encourages men to enter the army. It is paradoxical to treat officers contemptuously and call theirs an honored profession. The men who are the principal supports of the State must be encouraged and be preferred to the soft and insipid society men who can only grace an ante-chamber.

Mr. Barker comments on the fact that in 1776, thirteen years after the ruinous Seven Years' War, Frederick the Great had accumulated financial resources sufficient to pay for another war lasting four years, and that he pursued the food policy of his fathers "which is still pursued by the Prusso-German Government." Moreover, he first exalted the German professor:

A hundred and fifty years ago Prussia was a land peopled by boors. Now it is a land peopled by professors, scientists, and artists. Frederick the Great was the first Prussian monarch to realize that science and art increase the strength and prestige of nations. Hence, he began cultivating the sciences and arts, and his successors followed his example. As science and art were found to be sources of national power, they were as thoroughly promoted as was the army itself, while in this country [England] education remained amateurish. Men toyed with science and the universities rather taught manners than efficiency.

The lesson of this centuries-old efficient governmental machine is a supreme one to democratic England, Mr. Barker thinks. Not that it is hopeless for a democracy to compete with a highly organized monarchy, for has not Switzerland shown that "a democracy may be efficient, business-like, provident, and ready for war?" England, on the other hand, has been a lover of luxury and ease. She must gird up her loins and fight or die. The Anglo-Saxon race is fighting for its existence, and delay is dangerous:

War is a one-man business. Every other consideration must be subordinated to that of achieving victory. When the United States fought for their life, they made President Lincoln virtually a Dictator. The freest and most unruly democracy allowed Habeas Corpus to be suspended and conscription to be introduced, to save itself. Great emergencies call for great measures. The War demands great sacrifices in every direction. However, if it leads to England's modernization, to the elimination of the weaknesses and vices of Anglo-Saxon democracy, if it leads to the unification and organization of the Empire, the purification of its institutions, and the recreation of the race, the gain may be greater than the loss, the colossal cost of the War notwithstanding. The British Empire and the United States, the Anglo-Saxon race in both hemispheres, have arrived at the turning point in their history. The next few months will confirm their greatness or mark the beginning of their fatal decline.

“To Avenge”

Stern is the denunciation of W.S. Lilly, in the same issue of The Nineteenth Century and After, upon the atrocities recounted in an article on German atrocities in France by Professor Morgan, appearing in the next preceding number. Mr. Lilly quotes Thomas Carlyle's sarcastic words about the "blind loquacious prurience of indiscriminate Philanthropism" that commands no revenge for great injustice. He says:

Apart from the "fierce and monstrous gladness," with which the German people have welcomed the hellish cruelty of their soldiery, they must be held responsible for its crimes. General von Bernhardi, indeed, assures them that "political morality differs from individual morality because there is no power above the State." And they have been given over to a strong delusion to believe this lie. Above the State is the Eternal Rule of Right and Wrong: above the State is the Supreme Moral Governor of the Universe; yes, above the State is God. Let us proclaim this august verity though in France Atheism has been triumphant; in England Agnosticism is fashionable; in Lutheran Germany—worst of all—evil has been enthroned in the place of good, and "devils to adore for deities" is the proper cult.

The resolution of the old Roman patriot that "Carthage must be destroyed" is quoted by this writer. He adds:

As stern a resolution is in the minds and on the lips of all true lovers of their country and of mankind, be they English or French, Russian, Italian, Japanese, and I do not hesitate to add American. German militarism must be utterly destroyed and the monstrous creation of blood and iron overthrown. Such is the plainest dictate of the instinct of self-preservation. It is also the plainest dictate of justice. Germany must be paid that she has deserved. When the triumphant Allies shall have made good their footing on her soil, they will not indeed rival her exploits or violating women and butchering children, of murdering prisoners and wounded, of slaying unoffending and peaceful peasants, of destroying shrines of religion and learning. But they will assuredly shoot or hang such of the chief perpetrators of these and the like atrocities as may fall into their hands. They will strip her of ill-gained territory. They will empty her arsenals and burn her war workshops. They will impose a colossal indemnity which will condemn her for long years to grinding poverty. They will confiscate her fleet. They will remove the treasures of her galleries and museums, and take toll of her libraries, to make compensation for her pillage and incendiarism in Belgium. The measure of punishment is always a matter of difficulty. But surely anything less than this would be wholly disproportionate to the rank offences of Germany. The reckoning, the retribution, the retaliation to be just must be most stern. The victorious Allies, who will be her judges, will not be moved by "mealymouthed philanthropies." "Justice shall strike and Mercy shall not hold her hands: she shall strike sore strokes, and Pity shall not break the blow."

The Pope, the Vatican, and Italy

In The Fortnightly Review for July E.J. Dillon is sweeping in his arraignment of the new Pope Benedict XV. and the Vatican, of the Pope because of his "neutrality in matters of public morality," and of the Vatican because of its hostility to the cause of Allies. Toward martyred Belgium and suffering France the Pope "has been generous in lip sympathy and promises of rewards in the life to come," Mr. Dillon says; but he has "found no word of blame for their executioners." Mr. Dillon personally offered Benedict XV. "some important information on the subject which seemed adequate to change his views or modify his action," but he "turned the conversation to other topics." In fairness he adds that "personally Benedict XV. had been careful to keep aloof from Buelow and his band," and has neither said nor done anything blameworthy with the sole exception of the interview and message which he was reported to have given "to an American-German champion of militarism at the instigation of his intimate counsellor, Monsignor Gerlach"—an interview, by the way, which the Pope has since expressly repudiated.

HIS HOLINESS BENEDICT XV.
The Entrance of Italy into the War has Increased the Delicacy of
the Pontiff's Position
(Photo from International News.)

Monsignor Gerlach, Mr. Dillon says, is "one of the most compromising associates and dangerous mentors that any sovereign ever admitted to his privacy," and continues:

Years ago, the story runs, Gerlach made the acquaintance of a worldly minded papal Nuntius in the fashionable salons of gay Vienna, and, being men of similar tastes and proclivities, the two enjoyed life together, eking out the wherewithal for their costly amusements in speculations on the Exchange. When the Nuntius returned to Rome, donned the Cardinal's hat, and was appointed to the See of Albano as Cardinal Agliardi, he bestowed a canonry on the boon companion who had followed him to the eternal city. The friendship continued unabated, and was further cemented by the identity of their political opinions, which favored the Triple Alliance. Gerlach became Agliardi's tout and electioneering agent when that Cardinal set up as candidate for the papacy on the death of Leo XIII. But as his chances of election were slender, the pair worked together to defeat Rampolla, who was hated and feared by Germany and Austria. Their bitter opponent was Cardinal Richard, a witty French prelate who labored might and main for Rampolla, and told me some amusing stories about Agliardi. Some years ago Gerlach's name emerged above the surface of private life in Rome in connection with what the French term un drame passionel, which led to violent scenes in public and to a number of duels later on. That this man of violent Pan-German sentiments should be the Pope's mentor and guide through the labyrinth of international politics seems a curious anachronism.

Although Cardinal della Chiesa, shortly before he became Benedict XV., was spoken of as the inheritor of Rampolla's Francophile leanings, it is "now conjectured that at the Conclave this legend secured from his not only the votes of the Teutonic Cardinals, who knew what his sentiments really were, but also those of the French and Belgians, who erroneously fancied that they knew," Dr. Dillon says. He does not hesitate to believe that the Pope is "at heart a staunch friend of Austria and a warm admirer of Germany, whom he looks upon as the embodiment of the principle of authority and conservatism." For the Vatican his words are more unsparing:

The Vatican, as distinguished from the Pope, was and is systematically hostile to the Allies. Its press organs, inspired by an astute and influential Italian ecclesiastic named Tedeschini, by Koeppenberg, a rabid German convert, and by the Calabrian Daffina, organized a formidable campaign against the King's Government and their supposed interventionist leanings. Its agents, including the priest Boncampagni and the German Catholics Erzberger, Koeppenberg, and others, were wont to meet in the Hôtel de Russie to arrange their daily plan of campaign, and when at last the people rose up against Giolitti and his enormities, the Vatican had its mob in readiness to make counter-demonstrations, and was prevented from letting it loose only by the superhuman efforts of decent Catholics and orderly citizens. It is a fair thing to add that the attitude of the Roman Catholic clergy throughout Italy has with some few exceptions been consistently patriotic. Even the bishops and archbishops of the provinces have deserved well of their King and country, while their flocks have left nothing to be desired on the score of loyalty and patriotism.

Buelow's mission to Italy and his relations with Giolitti, the defeated abettor of Austria in the business preceding Italy's declaration of war, when they encountered the statecraft of Sonnino and Salandra, are given in this version of Buelow's playing of his "trump card":

Although the die was cast and Italy's decision taken, he had the Austrian concessions greatly amplified, and he offered them, not to the King's Government, but to Giolitti, his secret ally, who was not in office, but was known to be the Dictator of Italy. And Giolitti accepted them on the condition, to be fulfilled after the Cabinet's fall, that the territory would be further enlarged and consigned to Italy before the end of the war. The increase of prestige which this concession would bestow on the tribune was to be his reward for co-operation with the German Ambassador. Giolitti having thus approved the offer, undertook to have it ratified by Parliament, in spite of the engagements which the Cabinet had already entered into with the Allied Powers. In this sense he spoke to the King, wrote a letter designed for the nation, and obtained the public adhesion of a majority of the Chamber which was not then sitting. Thereupon the Cabinet resigned and left the destinies of Italy in the hands of the King and the nation. On the part of the Cabinet this was a brilliant tactical move and a further proof of the praiseworthy moral courage which it had displayed throughout the crisis. Indeed, the firmness, perseverance, and dignified disregard of mild invective and more deliberate criticism manifested by Sonnino and Salandra, entitle these Ministers to the lasting gratitude of their country. For it should be borne in mind that they had against them not only the Senate, the Chamber, a section of the Press, the "cream" of the aristocracy, the puny sons and daughters of the leaders of the Risorgimento, but also, strange to say, the majority of Italian diplomatists in the capitals of the Great Powers, one of whom actually fell ill at the thought that Italy was about to fight shoulder to shoulder with the State to which he was accredited. It would be interesting to psychologists to learn how this diplomatist and one or two of his colleagues felt when a few days later they were serenaded by enthusiastic crowds whom they were constrained to address.

Are the Allies Winning?

In a Doubting Thomas article headed "Are We Winning?" the anonymous "Outis" in The Fortnightly Review concludes that "the Allies are winning, but very slowly. If their conquest is to be assured, Great Britain's task is to mobilize every soldier and every workman, in order to prove that whoever may fail, she at least does not intend to desist until the final triumph is won." Moreover, the conquest must be in the West "if anywhere," and he looks somewhat askance at the Dardanelles adventure:

A good many competent authorities have disliked the idea of the Dardanelles expedition, on the strength of a general principle applicable to all military operations. It is said that in every war there is one distinct objective, and that that should never be neglected for any subsidiary operations. Thus, in the present instance, our main effort is to drive the Germans out of France and Belgium, and then to attack them in their own territory. Anything which interferes with this or throws it, however temporarily, into the background, is held to be unwise, because it leads to the most dangerous of results in warfare—the dissipation of forces, which, if united, would win the desired success, but if disunited will probably fail. Thus we are told that we must not fritter away our energies in enterprises which, however important in themselves, are not comparable with the one unique preoccupation of our minds—the conquest of Germany in Europe.

Selling Arms to the Allies

Horace White has no two opinions in his article in The North American Review for July as to the wisdom and justice of the practice of American manufacturers in selling munitions which the Allies are using to kill their Germanic enemies. Mr. White expresses it as the belief of the great majority of people in the United States that Germany's war is without sufficient cause, and that when she invaded Belgium she "made herself the outlaw of the nations—a country whom no agreements can bind." Therefore he can see why no limit should ever be put to the world's expenditure for armaments "while one incorrigible outlaw is at large." He adds:

It is the opinion of most Americans that the most incorrigible and dangerous outlaw and armed maniac now existing is Germany, and that the first and indispensable step toward a restriction of armaments and a quiet world is to throttle and disarm her, and that no price is too great to pay for such a consummation. Any result of the present war which falls short of this will be the preliminary to a new armament and another war on a wider scale than the present one, since the United States will make preparations for the next one and most probably take part in it.

Hence proceeds Mr. White's justification for this neutral nation's supplying the Allies with arms:

Germany, by bursting her way through Belgium, was enabled to seize eighty to ninety per cent. of the coal and iron resources of France and the greater part of her apparatus for the production of arms. She holds also the entire resources of Belgium, both of raw material and finished product. The foul blow by which she possessed herself of these indispensable treasures had two consequences which she did not look for—the active hostility of England and the moral indignation of all other nations. In helping France to make good the loss which she sustained through such perfidy the American people think that they are doing God's service, and their only regret is that they cannot do more of it. If they had foreseen the present conditions they would have enlarged their gun factories and powder mills to meet the emergency more promptly.

A German writer in the New York Times of May 30, Mr. Vom Bruck, says: "If the German nation is wiped out with the help of American arms and ammunition no man of the white race in the United States would be able to think of such a catastrophe without horror and remorse." All of the contending nations say that they are fighting for existence, which means that if they do not win in the end they will be wiped out. With such an alternative staring us in the face very few tears would be shed by Americans, of any color, if both the Hohenzollerns and the Hapsburgs, with all their belongings, should be wiped off the face of the earth.

War and Non-Resistance

The pacifist "mollycoddle," as Theodore Roosevelt dubbed him in his San Francisco Exposition speech, finds expression in these words of Bertrand Russell in the August number of the Atlantic Monthly:

All these three motives for armaments—cowardice, love of dominion, and lust for blood—are no longer ineradicable in civilized human nature. All are diminishing under the influence of modern social organization. All might be reduced to a degree which would make them almost innocuous, if early education and current moral standards were directed to that end. Passive resistance, if it were adopted deliberately by the will of a whole nation, with the same measure of courage and discipline which is now displayed in war, might achieve a far more perfect protection for what is good in national life than armies and navies can ever achieve, without demanding the carnage and waste and welter of brutality involved in modern war.

But it is hardly to be expected, Mr. Russell reluctantly concludes, that progress will come in this way, because "the imaginative effort required is too great." He adds:

It is much more likely that it will come, like the reign of law within the state, by the establishment of a central government of the world, able and willing to secure obedience by force, because the great majority of men will recognize that obedience is better than the present international anarchy.

A central government of this kind would command assent not as a partisan, but as the representative of the interests of the whole. Very soon resistance to it would be seen to be hopeless and wars would cease. Force directed by a neutral authority is not open to the same abuse or likely to cause the same long-drawn conflicts as force exercised by quarreling nations, each of which is the judge in its own cause. Although I firmly believe that the adoption of passive instead of active resistance would be good if a nation could be convinced of its goodness, yet it is rather to the ultimate creation of a strong central authority that I should look for the ending of war. But war will end only after a great labor has been performed in altering men's moral ideals, directing them to the good of all mankind, and not only of the separate nations into which men happen to have been born.

“Good Natured Germany”

The leading article in the June issue of the Süddeutsche Monatshefte (Munich) is by Dr. George Grupp, one of Germany's most able scholars, and is entitled, "Never Can Germany be Overcome if She be United." Dr. Grupp finds evidences for this assertion all through history, and quotes some of the earliest commentators and historians to this effect:

As early as 1487 Felix Fabri, a Dominican of Ulm wrote: "Si Germani essent ubique concordes, totum orbem domarent." (If the Germans were united they would conquer the whole world.)

The sentence is an echo of the fiery address which one Aeneas Silvius, later to become pope, delivered to the German princes after the fall of Constantinople, and from which Felix Fabri himself gives a quotation....

To Germany alone the Greeks looked for any considerable help. An evidence of this is the beautiful and often quoted remark of the Athenian Laonikos Chalkokondylas: "If the Germans were united and the princes would obey, they would be unconquerable and the strongest of all mortals."

We encounter similar statements very frequently, both earlier and later, from the Roman courtier Dietrich von Nieheim and from the humanists, from the Alsatian Wimpheling and Sebastian Brant, from the Swabian Nauclerus and the Frank Pirckheimer. "What could Germany be," they cry, "if she would only make use of her own strength, exploit her own resources for herself! No people on earth could offer her resistance!"

Dr. Grupp claims that Germany's lack of unity has resulted only from her rule of goodwill toward all, within her borders as well as without.

It never occurred to the Germans as to other peoples to disturb the peaceful development of their neighbors. They allowed mighty powers to build themselves up unmolested and to rise above Germany's head. In their internal affairs they observed the same principle of justice; no line, no class, no province, no grant succeeded in obtaining so oppressive an ascendancy, that other lines and classes, other provinces and grants were simply annihilated. The unfortunate consequence was lack of unity.

Nowhere were or are there so many cultural centres, so many different movements, tendencies, parties. This great multifariousness of the German life was recognized and admired by others. But this very multifariousness had its darker side, the fatal, much deplored lack of unity.

Through the centuries, Dr. Grupp claims, Germany has been altogether too good-natured, allowing other nations to all but bleed her to death.

In her peaceable disharmony Germany has dreamed along carelessly and good-naturedly for centuries until the abrupt awakening when she saw a yawning abyss opened up at her feet. Good-naturedly she has allowed herself to be plundered and faithfully she has fought other nations' battles. As early as the 15th century the humanists remarked the fact that alien states gladly took German soldiers into their service, and later on it was worse than that. Foreign countries gladly waged their wars on German territory. Here was decided for the most part the fate of the Spanish world-empire, here France and England battled for supremacy. The Seven Years' War was not only a question of Schleswig; it was a question of whether North America and even far-away India should be French or English.

Now the condition is suddenly reversed; the Germans are fighting for themselves, and the fact arouses the limitless rage of their opponents. Let us console ourselves with the fact that even in the Middle Ages it was said: "Teutonici nullius amici," in spite of their peaceableness.

Italy’s Defection

Dr. Eduard Meyer has contributed an article to the Süddeutsche Monatshefte (Munich) on "Ancient Italy and the Rise of the Italian Nation." Dr. Meyer is professor of history in the University of Berlin, and is a brother of Dr. Kuno Meyer who recently attracted much attention in this country by severing his connection with Harvard University because of a prize "war poem" written by one of the undergraduates. A postscript reflects Dr. Meyer's present feeling toward Italy's defection:

The views which I have presented in this article are the fruit of long years of study and research; and I feel myself constrained to state explicitly that they are in no wise influenced by the events which we have experienced during the last few weeks. But it may be that a short postscript is necessary.

Italy has not won her present national unity by reason of her own strength; she owes it to the combinations of the changing world-situation and the victories of foreign powers, which her statesmen have known how to use to the best advantage.

According to Dr. Meyer, Italy's claim to be one of the great powers is not based on any actual ability to uphold that claim; it merely happens that her assertion has not been challenged.

She has claimed for herself the status of a great power on a par with the other large nations of the world; but she has not possessed the inner strength of herself to support such a claim without the help of stronger powers.

In August, 1914, Italy had the opportunity to decide her fate. If she could have made the choice then, if she could have gone into the world-war with all the might that she possessed and, staking her whole existence, have fought toward the highest goal, she might have won for herself a powerful and self-sufficient place in the world.

On account of his many utterances since the outbreak of the war, Ludwig Thoma's März (Munich), a weekly founded by him, has attracted much attention. An article entitled "Italy's Defection," in a recent issue, is most bitter in tone, accusing Italy of long-standing intrigue and treachery.

We know that Italy went still further from the fact that at the renewal of the alliance in 1912 in Paris she expressly announced that she would not march against France. It will be remembered how quick the French army command was to take stock of relations on the southeastern border, with the result that in the very first days of mobilization their troops were called from the Savoy Alps and by the eighth of August were giving battle on the Alsatian border.

But Italy still guarded the neutrality which she had proclaimed and with apparent reasonableness she was able to hold that the letter of the Triple Alliance did not compel her to enter the conflict. Laughing in her sleeve she could even give it out that her sympathetic neutrality would sufficiently guarantee to her allies certain suspended contracts of an economic nature. Neutral Italy furnished Germany to a considerable extent with products of its own land and others which were not unwelcome.

That the mobilization of an Italian army on France's borders might have been able to decide the war as far back as September, is a consideration which, in the face of this hypocritical neutrality, one cannot face without driving one's nails into one's flesh!

It was through the connivance of England that Italy weakly found herself forced to enter the war against her former allies.

Sir Edward Grey found the way to do it. Italy learned that England was no longer in a situation to hold the Straits of Gibraltar and the Suez Canal open and was obliged to take over the control of Italian imports. Even before this British agents had control of the port of Genoa and there was no doubt that through most irritating measures on England's part which skillfully concealed the motive behind them, a blow would be struck at the very roots of Italy's existence and famine would set in. Presently the Italian politicians and the crown were confronted with a dilemma which left them the choice only between war and revolution....

Not every people has the political government which it deserves; the Italian people are the victims of a government, essentially undeserved but traditionally faithless.

But Mars is now shaking the dice and behind the curtain of the future Revolution stands waiting.

Apologies for English Words

An indication of the height to which the "Gott Strafe England" feeling has climbed in Germany is shown in the following announcement by the management of Die Woche (Berlin):

TO OUR READERS!

Many readers of Die Woche have taken offense at the words "Copyright by ..." (in English) and demand that this English formula be rendered hereafter in German. This desire, springing from patriotic motives, is easily understood, but unfortunately cannot be carried out for the form "Copyright by ..." is demanded by the American copyright law in this form. If we did not print these words in English, which is the official language of the United States, our copyright in America would be void and the protection both of ourselves and our writers would be forfeited.

Germanic Peace Terms

[From the Budapest Correspondent of The London Morning Post.]

To the Revue de Hongrie, the only French paper in Budapest, Count Andrássy contributes an article for July entitled "Les garanties d'une paix durable," and discusses the peace terms the Central Empires are to put forward in the event of final victory. He objects to the idea of annexation or anything more than "boundary corrections," and says:

Our war is a defensive war, which will achieve its aim when our enemies have been expelled from our territory and their ring has been broken. This aim could be best served by making peace with one or other of our enemies and winning him over to our cause. This would be of immense advantage to the future of civilization and ensure us against the horrors of a prolonged war. A separate peace would be the best chance for certain Powers to change their international policy. To my mind the issues of this war will greatly change the attitude of some hostile States toward us, and will bring about more intimate relations between them and ourselves, besides widening the foundations of the alliance between Hungary and her allies. And this is to be the rock upon which the European balance of power is to rest in the future. Our war is not a war of conquest, and the boundary changes of which some people speak are not the sine qua non of a good peace. Therefore I do not even wish to speak about certain territorial alterations, which, nevertheless, might be necessary.

Regarding the question of England and nationality, Count Andrássy says:

Victory no doubt affords us the right to demand the alteration of the map of Europe, yet, this not being our aim and not to our interest, we can be satisfied with certain compensations, as no doubt our enemies would not spare us if they were victorious. Lloyd George said that the States are to be shaped in the future according to nationalities, which means that the Monarchy is to be disrupted. An English scholar not long ago expressed the same view, and, in fact, in England this idea is being impressed upon the people. This policy is sounded in a country which dominates so many millions of alien nationalities. If England speaks in this way, though she is not in direct conflict with us, what can we expect from Russia or Italy? Everyone knows that Russia wants Galicia, the Bukovina, Màramaros; Serbia wants Bosnia, Herzegovina, Croatia, Slavonia, and the Banat; Italy they won to their side by promising her our territory; Transylvania is promised to the one who cares to take it; henceforth, if we wish to defend it, we shall have to prepare for a new attack from another quarter. Yet nothing would be more alien to our thoughts than that if victorious we should annex foreign territory, for we would have seriously to consider if such conquest would be to our advantage or not. The same policy ought to be applied in Germany. Though her enemies would not spare her either, she must be cautious not to go too far in her appetites, and should seek for monetary compensations. Most of all she has to be careful not to claim territory, which would mean everlasting unrest and a new irredentism. It would be a bad policy even to touch the Balkans, for such interference would sooner or later bring Russia back to the Balkans, and the peoples there, menaced in their independence by us, would turn to Russia. We would thus place nations used to independence under alien rule, and such an act would neither be a wise nor a paying policy.

As regards Italy, Count Andrássy has also a solution which is quite generous. He says:

We would not do well if we were influenced by just revenge and turned our eyes on Italian territory. To force territory from a country whose people are so patriotic would be a source of weakness on our part. In the worst case, only boundary corrections can be thought of, and no conquest. Italy must recompense us by money and not territory, for not the Italian people, but its Government, committed a breach of faith against us.

France’s Bill of Damages

The agricultural problem in France is the subject of an article by Professor Daniel Zolla in La Revue Hebdomadaire (Paris). Professor Zolla is a leader in the agricultural school at Grignon, and the main part of his article is a discussion of France's agricultural losses and how to repair them. He sums the present situation as follows:

At the end of May the enemy were occupying territory amounting to about two million hectares. In this zone as in the regions invaded though immediately evacuated, the agricultural losses have been admittedly severe: harvests, livestock, implements, fodder, have been stolen or destroyed; the buildings, burned or ruined, will have to be entirely rebuilt. The soil itself, ploughed with trenches, dug up by shells, infested with weeds, has lost much of its fertility....

In the invaded region which is one of the richest and most fertile in all France, the farming capital amounts at the least to five hundred francs per hectare, not counting the value of the buildings and of the land itself. For a total of two million hectares, the sum thus represented in the personal advances of farmers reach or surpass a billion, for in French Flanders and in Artois this minimum estimate of five hundred francs is greatly exceeded.

Concerning future indemnification for these losses, Professor Zolla writes:

It is the entire country at which the enemy wished to strike by ruining a certain number of the people; it is the country which should repair the ruin and indemnify the losses. Never will the principle of national solidarity apply with more justice and reason. The interest of the state can demand, it is true, that the victim who has become a creditor of the country shall not exact immediate payment of the sums due him. This is a question of the time needed to enable the country to pay and the representatives of the nation must be the judges of that.

But admitting the principle, it will suffice if it be known that the Treasury accepts the liability; it will be sufficient if certain annuities are promised and managed so that the parties can procure through the ordinary avenues of credit, the necessary indemnities.

This is the method which the National Assembly adopted in 1873. A sum of one hundred and eleven millions voted as relief, was represented by twenty-six annuities including interest at five per cent. and redemption.

Professor Zolla admits that France is going to encounter a serious difficulty in the scarcity of labor which is sure to follow the close of the war. It is not too early, he advises, to begin working on the solution of this problem so that France will be ready to meet it when it arises:

There are in the main, two methods by which the scarcity of farm labor can be offset:

1. By multiplying the machines which replace manual labor,

2. By modifying our agricultural methods so that preference is given to those which demand the least proportion of manual labor....

All the associations which are fortunately so numerous in our country, all the agricultural societies, all the co-operative societies which are already formed, should double their efforts to put at the disposition of their members those implements which on account of their high price are not available for the individual farmer.

Prices will rise after the war, but this, argues Professor Zolla, will be beneficial rather than otherwise.

High prices will be offset by large production: this excess of production will, however, follow on the activity of the rural producer, and that activity will be maintained and increased by high prices which always insure large profits.

In short, the rise in price wall be most favorable to the agricultural interests just at a time when the difficulties of obtaining labor will come to swell the necessary expenses of production. The crisis which might be in store is thus dissipated and the agricultural situation remains much as it was before the war—that is to say, very satisfactory.

The losses undergone will be considerable in the invaded regions, the obstacles which the farmer must overcome will be great but not insurmountable, but success will recompense the valor and the hard labor of our countrymen. And to be just we must not forget that this will be made possible by the work of the French women in the fields.

A French Rejoinder

In the Revue des Deux Mondes (Paris), of which he is managing editor, M. Francis Charmes, of the Académie Française, replies to a speech made by von Bethmann-Hollweg before the Reichstag, in which the German Chancellor expressed sympathy for the deluded French soldiers, who had not an inkling of the true course which the war was taking. M. Charmes ironically remarks:

We do not publish, he [von Bethmann-Hollweg] claims, any of the German dispatches, so that opinion is quite unenlightened as to what is actually happening on the field of battle.

One would think, according to M. de Bethmann-Hollweg, that the German dispatches are a source on which one can rely with full confidence, and one would imagine, too, since he had thus reproached us, that the German newspapers published the French dispatches.

As a matter of fact, they do not and if it is necessary to hear both sides to know the truth then the Germans are quite ignorant of it. They are indeed very far removed from knowing it, and it is a constant surprise to our officers and our soldiers to discover when they question their prisoners, the profound illusions under which they labor.

Dr. von Bode’s Polemic

Some time ago Dr. Wilhelm von Bode, the well-known director of the Berlin Art Museums and Germany's authority in matters of art, issued a justification of German conduct in Rheims and Louvain, which he supported by a review of Germany's world-contribution to art. "The German Science of Art and the War," was the title of the article. Jacques Mesnil, writing in the Mercure de France, presents a reply to Dr. von Bode's polemic.

He brands as infantile the reasoning by which Dr. Bode proves the German soldier incapable of destroying a work of art. The German professor stated that civilization, and with it art, could not have survived were it not for the protection of German militarism. M. Mesnil replies:

M. Bode should have been able to separate a little better two things which have nothing to do with each other: strategy and the history of art. He should have explained the conduct of the soldiers by the service which is required of them; he should have pointed out precisely the point of view of the archaeologist as incompatible with that of the warrior and he should have freed of responsibility those who, loving the picturesque old cities and the pure creations of artists, could not sympathize with those who destroy them.

Far from this, he has invoked the merits of German science to justify the outrages of the soldiery and in his eyes the fact that German savants have added to the progress of archaeology suffices to prove that the German army is incapable of destroying works of art.

Examination of Professor von Bode's claim that Germany leads the world in the "science of art," would seem to M. Mesnil to show that the German art-scientist is little more than a painstaking classifier, a mere cataloguer.

Taken as a whole, the art historians in Germany are a lot of excellent laborers, energetic and conscientious, who could render valuable service were they well directed. But it is precisely their direction which is at fault. Those among them who play the rôle of leader do not know how to distinguish the relative importance of the problems which come to their consideration; in confused multitude of facts, they follow a purely exterior and quite military order in their classifications; in the same way that a man in the army is a man only and that all the human units are in rigid divisions, so for the apostles of "the science of art" a fact is a fact and automatically falls under the head destined for it.

“Carnegie and German Peace”

An article in La Revue (Paris), "Carnegie and the German Peace," would seem to indicate that France is not yet looking toward peace. The article is by Jean Finot himself, the well-known editor and publisher of La Revue, and it gives the pacifists short shrift indeed. The American peace propaganda, M. Finot characterizes as "the attempt at corruption," and he holds Mr. Carnegie responsible:

Unfortunately Mr. Carnegie endeavors to keep them [his opinions regarding peace] alive by supporting them with considerable sums of money for their diffusion abroad. A movement for "a German peace" has thus sprung up in America and it is taking on more and more disquieting proportions....

Mr. Carnegie has been accused and not perhaps without reason, of subsidizing many Germanophile publications and thus of aiding in the work of corruption which Germany and her agents are carrying on throughout the whole world.

The recent peace congress of women at The Hague comes in for some strong language:

The international congress of women pacifists seems to be due to Mr. Carnegie's generosity. This poisoning of public opinion, carried out systematically by his agents and his money, has become particularly odious. We do not suspect the honesty of his intentions, but we deplore his profound lack of comprehension of the events which have been taking place before his eyes.

Among the American women noted for their talent and character, Miss Jane Addams occupies a prominent place. But it seems that her sturdy honesty was not sufficient to resist the temptation of putting herself at the heels of Mr. Carnegie. We are convinced the charges of other than purely disinterested motives against Miss Addams are wholly unjustified. But she has participated in the women's congress at The Hague under truly regrettable conditions.

M. Finot's references to Chautauqua and the part it plays in the preparation of American opinion are veiled but none the less suggestive:

The important rôle which the Chautauqua conferences play in the United States is well known. These conferences of teachers which have so profound an influence on American opinion have been supported by Mr. Carnegie in the interests of realizing this idea of a precipitate peace, of a German peace. All manner of adventurers and seekers of easy fortunes have gathered around this strange deviation of the pacifist ideal represented by the multi-millionaire and the men of his stripe.

Russia’s Supply of Warriors

In an article headed "Ought the War to Last Long—and Can It Last Long?" V. Kuzmin-Karavaeff says in the Russian European Messenger for June:

It is, of course, impossible to say how long the war will last. But the case is altered if the question be put in another form: Ought the war to last long, and can it last long? The ten months which have elapsed make it entirely possible to answer it, for, in answering it, there is no need to guess at the thoughts, wishes, and hopes of the Germans which are bound up with the war.

In the eyes of Russia and her Allies the present war has as its object the crushing and dispersing of "the nest of militarism," constructed in the centre of Europe by the hand of Bismarck and the vainglory of Wilhelm II. That was clearly defined last autumn by our diplomatic department. That is precisely the way in which it was and is defined by all classes of the Russian people, not excluding those who are represented by Kropotkin and Plekhanoff. The present war became far more for Germany than a war for the integrity of her territory, for her colonial interests, or for her commercial supremacy, from the moment when three—now four—great powers rose at her arrogant challenge. Germany is everywhere attacking, but, in reality, she is conducting a desperate war of defence for the organization of her existence, which, for the space of forty years, has rested on a nervous anticipation of war with her neighbors. Germany's offensive is a strategical manœuvre. As a matter of fact, she is fighting like a wild animal surrounded on all sides. And, of course, she will carry on the war until the last degree of exhaustion is reached. She has accumulated within her many forces—technical forces. Mere technical forces cannot stand their ground in the end. But no little time must still elapse. And the war must continue for a long time still, if the "nest of militarism" is to be annihilated.

But, on the other hand, can it continue a long time? We Russians have a complete right to say, with conviction: Yes. Ten months of war have plainly demonstrated that we still possess a land which is still intact, and personal and economic forces.

To the east of the Dnieper and Moscow the war is hardly felt at all. This is particularly true of the principal foundations of our life—the peasant country parts numbering their hundred millions. The villages have sent to the war millions of young men, and even fathers of families, heads of households. Many tears have already been shed in the country, and there are many orphans, many cripples. But the peasant countryside has not suffered economically. On the contrary, after ten months of war and closed liquor-shops, it has reconstructed itself and smartened itself up to a noteworthy degree. The fields have been sown. From among the huge mass only those laboring hands have been withdrawn for the war which would not have remained at home in any case, but would have been lured away to earn money elsewhere.

The same thing is observable also in the towns. The masses in the towns have increased their deposits in the savings banks tenfold, while consuming more meat than before the war, and resorting less frequently to the loan banks. Information made its way out of Germany long ago to the effect that all the males there, with the exception of decrepit old men and small children, have been called to the army. The peculiar "crisis in men" in Berlin has frequently served as a subject of jest in the humorous press.

In Russia, every railway station swarms with young, healthy, powerful porters who offer their services; every large restaurant has a host of waiters; the wharves on the Volga and, in conclusion, the mere throngs on the streets bear witness to the fact that nothing resembling the "crisis in men" exists with us. Numerous as have been the soldiers who have gone to the war, the supply of men who are capable of bearing arms is still colossally great with us. Consequently, we have the material to fill up losses in the army. And that being the case, we can go on with the war for a long time to come—for as long a time as may be necessary to bring it to a proper ending.

Austria and the Balkans

Germanic influences in the Balkan Peninsula are discussed by A. Pogodin in the magazine Russian Thought. Mr. Pogodin says:

Without having in view any acquisitions whatsoever in the northern part of the Peninsula, Russia is deeply interested in seeing to it that Germanic influence does not acquire preponderance there, because that influence, in its turn, has no aims save territorial acquisition. The Balkan Peninsula is admitted to be the most influential camp of Pan-Germanism for the colony desired by the Germanic world, from which it is but a step to Central Asia. And it was this plan that Russia was compelled to combat. Unfortunately, she resisted too feebly, and our diplomacy betrayed an extremely poor comprehension of Russian problems. Austria's snatching appetite was fully revealed in the formula of partition of the Peninsula into two spheres of influence: Austria was to have Serbia and Bosnia, Russia the Bulgarian provinces of the Ottoman Empire. We all know how that ended: Serbia was abandoned by Russia at the Berlin Congress, and had no choice but to throw herself into the arms of Austria, which wrought fearful demoralization in the land. Tens of years were required before little, tormented Serbia—which had not, nevertheless, lost her freshness of spiritual power "found herself," that is to say, turned again to Russia, and did not reject her even during the period of the persecutions of 1908 which followed. This constituted the great service rendered to his people by the King of Serbia, Peter. Serbia has not perished, has not fallen into ruin, and has shown herself able to endure a war with Turkey, as she is now bearing the incredible blows of Austria-Hungary. But Bulgaria, which rejected Russia, has been seized in the grip of internal disturbances; she stands distracted before her Slavonic duty, and knows not whither she must go or why. If, at the last moment, she has sufficient sense to find her only way of salvation, which is in friendship with Slavdom, that, again, will be to the credit of Russia.

That is why, at the present moment, when the last act of the Balkan tragedy, begun long ago, is being played, we can look history in the face with calm eyes. Whatever may be formed after the end of this war, whether a Slavonic Federation, in which Russia could hardly take much interest, since she requires, first of all, the concentration of her own forces, or a series of independent, separate Slavonic kingdoms, we may say that, in having summoned the Slavs to unity, Russia has not deceived them, has not led them along a false road to destruction.

Italy’s Publications in War-Time

Absolutely nothing is published in the Italian papers or reviews concerning military or naval operations until the result of a given movement is known. Meanwhile, what are Italians reading and what is the intellectual food given them to sustain the wonderful sentimental enthusiasm with which they welcomed the war?

Previous to Italy's declaration of war against Austria-Hungary, on May 24, the press in general dealt with the negotiations between the two Governments from the point of view of domestic politics, which gave foreigners the impression that Italy was only waiting to receive her price to remain neutral until the end of the war. Austrian intrigue and dilatoriness were alike criticized. Little was said about Germany in regard to Italy, although her military methods in Belgium and northern France, her raids on the defenseless coast towns of England, and her submarine activities in the War Zone were severely condemned. This censure, however, was entirely academic and objective. The reviews republished a quantity of English, French, Russian, and even American articles as to the causes of the war, and the illustrations which accompanied them could hardly be considered pro-Teutonic. Only the comic press—and this in spite of its augmenting circulation which should have indicated to observers the sentiment that was elsewhere suppressed—gave full vent to popular emotion.

The moment war was declared there was a complete change. To be sure the "Green Book" was published in numerous 20-cent editions and sold by the hundreds of thousands and the closing speeches of Italian and Austrian diplomats were given in full with comments, yet little time was wasted with explanations of the failure of the Italo-Austrian negotiations and the meaning of the Seventh Article of the Triple Alliance. The daily press, the weekly periodicals, and the monthly reviews suddenly changed their objective expositions of Germany's conduct in regard to others and began to expound, explain, and elucidate, in an intimate subjective manner, how that conduct affected Italy.

Austria was almost ignored. The anti-German riots at Milan and other cities, where thousands of dollars worth of property was systematically destroyed before the authorities could interfere, showed the volcano that had been lying dormant beneath the surface. Articles which must have been prepared months before suddenly appeared in the press and reviews showing how Germany had come to control the banks and steamship lines of the Peninsula and how German capital, under the guise of promoting Italian enterprises, had laid hold of vast industries whose profits went to fill the pockets of the Germans; and, worst of all, how the savings of Italian immigrants in America had gone, through the German-conducted banks, to enrich the same persons without any contingent benefit to Italians.

Indeed, it almost seemed as though the press and reviews alike had been organized as completely as had the army and navy for the prosecution of the war with the sole object in view of preventing Germany ever again from using the Peninsula as a territory for exploitation. The propaganda for Italia Irredenta suddenly sank into insignificance beside the determination to throw off, once and for all, the German commercial, industrial, and financial yoke, revealing the abiding faith of the Italian people that their army would attend to the former as completely as desirable and without the advice and criticism of civilians. Faith in their King and their army and in their ultimate success is not a matter for argument among Italians.

Meanwhile, the staffs of all publications, from editors to compositors, have felt the weight of conscription—sacrifices they enthusiastically make for the common cause. Their pages may be fewer and some favorite contributors may be heard of no more, but they are sure that the public will bear with them. On the other hand, a new periodical has sprung into existence called La Guerra d'Italia nel 1915—The Italian War of 1915—the first number of which has just come to hand. Its introduction accompanied with several well-made portraits constructs the basis of Italy's action—how Italy having been tricked through a fancied fear of France and the apparent unresponsiveness of England into entering the Triple Alliance in 1882, had been forced to remain there, possibly protected thereby from actual Austrian aggression, but ever a prey to German exploitation. Then comes an analysis of the Italo-Austrian negotiations, conducted directly and through Prince von Bülow, the Special German Ambassador in Rome, showing why these negotiations could not possibly have succeeded. Like the Government itself the new periodical is in no haste to describe military operations.

The first review to devote almost its entire space to the war was La Vita Internazionale of Milan. The opening article is by the well-known publicist E.T. Moneta. He begins:

Without boast but with self-esteem secure, Italy has taken her place in the combat among the nations which for ten months have been fighting for the liberty of the people and the cause of civilization. The enthusiasm with which this announcement has been received in France, Russia, and England, and especially in martyred Belgium, is enormous. For they have all understood what decisive effect our army would produce on the destiny of the Great War.

The fighters for liberty and civilization who have always hoped for an ultimate victory, today feel the certainty of that hope, and that the duration of the war with the loss of millions of other lives will be shortened. For this reason, from those governments and people, from their parliaments and from their press, from workingmen's societies and from institutions of learning there have come to our country warm words of admiration and of social unity. All these things form an added inspiration for us to do our best to hasten the end of this slaughter of men.

Signor Moneta goes on to compliment the diplomacy of Premier Salandra for resigning from office and thus giving the people the opportunity to show through their demonstrations that they desired war and to silence once and forever the propaganda of Giolitti who had declaimed in vain that the people did not want war, as they could secure by negotiations unredeemed Italy—as though that were all.

Another article is by D. Giuseppe Antonini and is entitled "The German Madness." Its subject, full of quotations from Treitschke, Nietzsche, and Bernhardi, is not new to Americans. For Italians it may come as a revelation. It demonstrates the formative influences which have found expression in what is called "Prussian Militarism," as an attitude of mind which believes in the supremacy of force over all things—over goodness, virtue, kindness, and all else that make life worth living. It declares that Prussian Militarism has so possessed all Germans that not only their moral but their logical point of view has become distorted, so that they behold nought but virtue in applying science to bring about Mediaeval results. The conflict, he declares, is between absolutism which pretends to be sufficient unto itself and democracy which receives its power from the people, and that the latter must win unless centuries of the power, by revolutions without number, for the benefit of the masses are to end in failure.

Paolo Baccari deals with "The Supreme Duty." He says that the intervention of Italy was not merely to complete Unification by uniting all Italians of the Peninsula and the Adriatic littoral under one flag and government, but to register herself as standing for justice, law, and humanity against organized barbarity, injustice, illegality, and inhumanity, which, if victorious, would not rest until it had conquered the world. He calls the peace propaganda at this time a "vile lie of conventionality" because its success could only mean the victory of those forces which all honest nationalities and persons condemn.

As to the other serious reviews, such as the Nuova Antologia and the Rivista d'Italia, their June numbers, aside from expounding Italy's relations to Germany, have not gone beyond academic discussion of the causes of the war and the economic phases as revealed by the budgets of France, England, and Russia, and the sacrifices that Italy must endure in order to make her a worthy ally of these countries, all putting forth their greatest efforts in the battle for the world's salvation.

There are in Italy a large number of popular, well illustrated, monthly magazines, which, taking it for granted that their readers have already been thoroughly instructed as to the diplomatic phases of the war, have started a campaign of education in regard to the war itself. There are articles contrasting the armies of the days of Garibaldi and the great King Victor Emmanuel with those of the present. There are also articles, historical and descriptive, sociological and economic, on Trieste, Trent, and other cities of Unredeemed Italy, and historical monographs showing the bonds that formerly bound Italy to England and to France which have now been cemented anew, free from all Teutonic influence.

Among the magazines of this class are the Secolo XX, the Noi e il Mondo, and La Lettura; all, whenever the occasion offers, deal generously and enthusiastically with Italy's allies.

In all this published matter one thing has been revealed since Italy entered the war. Previously all the Italian writers placed in the same category of contempt the alleged attempts that were being made to influence Italy by the Central Empires as well as by the Entente Powers and unblushingly declared that if Italy ever entered the war it would not be for the benefit of one party or the other but for the benefit of herself alone. Now they frankly confess that the Entente Powers made no attempt to influence Italy, knowing all the time that when she was ready she would line up on their side.

Sweden and the Lusitania

By SWEDISH ARTISTS AND PROFESSORS

Stockholm, May 10, 1915.

English people know that the Swedish nation is practically unanimous in supporting the Government in its policy of strict neutrality. Yet a large section of the people, whether the majority or not we cannot say, is anything but neutral in their feelings at the methods of warfare which have been adopted in this terrible war, and have culminated in the sinking of the Lusitania.

The misconception that war suspends all laws of humanity must prove fatal to the future of civilization and disastrous for that human solidarity that is of such vital interest to the smaller nations especially.

(Signed)

Svante Arrhenius, Professor.
Baron Adelsward.
Victor Almquist, Chief Director for State Prisons.
W. Lecs, Professor.
Knut Kjellberg, Professor.
Jules Akerman, Professor.
Torgny Segerstedt, Professor.
Israel Holmgren, Professor.
G. Kobb, Professor.
Ottor Rosenberg, Professor.
Gunnar Andersson, Professor.
Gerhard de Geer, Professor.
Olof Kinberg, M.D.
Alfred Petren, M.D.
John Tjerneld, barrister.
Tor Hedberg, author.
Hjalmar Soderberg, author.
G. Stjernstedt, barrister.
Ivan Hedquist, actor at Royal Theatre.
Ivan Bratt, M.D.
T. Fogelquist, Rector.
Mrs. Emilia Broome.
Miss Signe Hebba.
Christian Eriksen, sculptor.
Ludvig Moberg, M.D.
Karl Nordstrom, artist.
Nils Kreuger, artist.
Arnold Josefson, M.S.
Carl Eldh, sculptor.
Miss Alma Sundquist, M.D.

A Threatened Despotism of Spirit

By Gertrude Atherton

The subjoined article, appearing as a letter to The New York Times, was provoked by the appearance on hundreds of billboards in New York of flaring appeals to American women that they use their influence to prevent the further exportation of arms and munitions to the enemies of Germany.

New York, July 5, 1915.

To the Editor of The New York Times:

As I do not belong to any of the suffrage or other woman's organizations in New York, may I say in your columns that for the honor of my sex, if for no other reason, I hope the Mayor will consent to the obliteration of those disingenuous posters addressing "American citizens," and so cunningly worded and signed as to produce an impression of representing the women of the United States? If the people that are spending their thousands so freely had come out frankly and stated that they were pro-German, and that the success of their propaganda would mean defeat for the Allies, short of ammunition, and victory for a nation that has nine-tenths of all the ammunition in Europe, then at least we should have the sheep separated from the goats; we could put it down to masculine influence over the weaker female vessel, which at least was trying to be honest, and let it go at that.

But I hold that such a poster, flaring from every billboard, is a defamation of patriotic American women, and a distinct blow to the cause of suffrage. It will not only antagonize men, who alone have the power to grant the franchise in those States still obdurate, but disgust thousands of women not yet won over to the cause, and far too intelligent not to know the precise meaning behind those lying and hypocritical words. For if that poster were really representative of American women it would mean that American women were traitors to their country, just as all pro-German American men, whatever their descent, are traitors, whether they realize it or not. What was the cause of the roar of indignation that went up all over the United States on Aug. 1? Anti-Germanism? Not a bit of it. If Russia had made the declaration of war the roar would have been as immediate and as loud. It was the spontaneous protest of the spirit of democracy against an arrogant autocracy that dared to plunge Europe into war and the world into panic, without the consent of the people; the manifest of a mediaeval power by an ambitious and unscrupulous group over millions of industrious, peace-loving men who had nothing to gain and all to lose.

It has been pointed out over and over again how diametrically opposed are the German and American ideals; therefore, it seems incredible that every American who champions the cause of a powerful and sublimely egotistic nation does not realize that what he hopes to see is not only the victory of the German arms in Europe, but the eventual destruction of democracy, the annihilation of the spirit of America as epitomized in the Declaration of Independence. I have not the least apprehension of immediate war with Germany, any more than of physical defeat at her hands did she, with the rest of Europe prostrate, make a raid on our shores; but it seems hardly open to question that with Europe Prussianized, we, the one heterogeneous race, and always ready to absorb and imbibe from the parent countries, should lose, in the course of half a century, our tremendous individual hustle, and gratefully permit a benevolent (and cast iron) despotism (not unnecessarily of our own make) to do our thinking, perhaps to select our jobs and apportion our daily tasks.

For that is what it almost amounts to now in Germany, and it is for this reason, no less than to escape military service, that so many millions of Germans have immigrated to this country. Unlike the vast majority of the bourgeois and lower classes, a kindly but stupid people, they were born with an alertness of mind and an energy of character which gave them the impetus to transfer themselves to a land where life might be harder but where soul and body could attain to a complete independence. Their present attitude is, however unconsciously, hypocritical, but it is not altogether as traitorous as that of the American born, who has not the excuse of that peculiar form of sentimentality which has fermented in Germans at home and abroad during this period of their Fatherland's peril. It is this curious and wholly German brand of sentimentality which is the cohering force in the various and extraordinarily clever devices by which modern Germany has been solidified. It is a sentimentality capable of rising to real exaltation that no other nation is capable of, and that alone should make the American pro-German pause and meditate upon a future United States where native individualism was less and less reluctantly heading for the iron jaws of the Prussianized American machine; and, furthermore, upon the weird spectacle of the real gladiatorial contest—German sentimentality wrestling in a death grapple with American downright unpicturesque common sense.

During the seven years that I lived in Munich I learned to like Germany better than any state in Europe. I liked and admired the German people; I never suffered from an act of rudeness, and I never was cheated out of a penny. I was not even taxed until the year before I left, because I made no money out of the country and turned in a considerable amount in the course of a year. When my maid went to the Rathaus to pay my taxes, (moderate enough,) the official apologized, saying that he had disliked to send me a bill, but the increased cost of the army compelled the country to raise money in every way possible. This was in 1908. The only disagreeable German I met during all those years was my landlord, and as we always dodged each other in the house or turned an abrupt corner to avoid encounter on the street, we steered clear of friction. And he was the only landlord I had.

I left Munich with the greatest regret, and up to the moment of the declaration of war I continued to like Germany better than any country in the world except my own.

The reason I left was significant. I spent, as a rule, seven or eight months in Munich, then a similar period in the United States, unless I traveled. I always returned to my apartment with such joy that if I arrived at night I did not go to bed lest I forget in sleep how overjoyed I was to get back to that stately and picturesque city, so prodigal with every form of artistic and aesthetic gratification. But that was just the trouble. For as long a time after my return as it took to write the book I had in mind I worked with the stored American energy I had within me; then for months and in spite of good resolutions and some self-anathema I did nothing. What was the use? The beautiful German city so full of artistic delight was made to live in, not to work in. The entire absence of poverty in that city of half a million inhabitants alone gave it an air of illusion, gave one the sense of being the guest of a hospitable monarch who only asked to provide a banquet for all that could appreciate. I look back upon Munich as the romance of my life, the only place on this globe that came near to satisfying every want of my nature. And that is the reason why, in a sort of panic, I abruptly pulled up stakes and left it for good and all. It is not in the true American idea to be too content; it means running to seed, a weakening of the will and the vital force. If I remained too long in that lovely land—so admirably governed that I could not have lost myself, or my cat, had I possessed one—I should in no long course yield utterly to a certain resentfully admitted tendency to dream and drift and live for pure beauty; finally desert my own country with the comfortable reflection: Why all this bustle, this desire to excel, to keep in the front rank, to find pleasure in individual work, when so many artistic achievements are ready-made for all to enjoy without effort? For—here is the point—an American, the American of today—accustomed to high speed, constant energy, nervous tenseness, the uncertainty, and the fight, cannot cultivate the leisurely German method, the almost scientific and impersonal spirit that informs every profession and branch of art. It is our own way or none for us Americans.

Therefore, if loving Germany as I did, and with only the most enchanting memories of her, I had not immediately permitted the American spirit to assert itself last August and taken a hostile and definite stand against the German idea (which includes, by the way, the permanent subjection of woman) I should have been a traitor, for I knew out of the menace I had felt to my own future, as bound up with an assured development under insidious influences, what the future of my country, which stands for the only true progress in the world today, and a far higher ideal of mortal happiness than the most benevolent paternalism can bestow, had in store for it, with Germany victorious, and America (always profoundly moved by success owing to her very practicality) disturbed, but compelled to admire.

The Germans living here, destitute as their race seems to be of psychology when it comes to judging other races, must know all this; so I say that they are traitors if they have taken the oath of allegiance to the United States. If they have not, and dream of returning one day to the fatherland, then I have nothing to say, for there is no better motto for any man than: "My country, right or wrong."

“Gott Mit Uns”

By C. HUNTINGTON JACOBS

[Harvard Prize Poem]

Professor Kuno Meyer, of the University of Berlin, resigned his incumbency as Visiting Professor at Harvard University during the next season because of this poem, which was printed in The Harvard Advocate of April 9th, last, and won the prize in a competition for poems on the war conducted by that publication. This announcement of it appeared editorially: "Dean Briggs and Professor Bliss Perry, the judges of the Advocate war poem prize competition, have awarded the prize to C. Huntington Jacobs, 1916."

No doubt ye are the people: Wisdom's flame
Springs from your cannon—yea from yours alone.
God needs your dripping lance to prop His throne;
Your gleeful torch His glory to proclaim.
No doubt ye are the people: far from shame
Your Captains who deface the sculptured stone
Which by the labor and the blood and bone
Of pious millions calls upon His name.
No doubt ye are the folk; and 'tis to prove
Your wardenship of Virtue and of Lore
Ye sacrifice the Truth in reeking gore
Upon your altar to the Prince of Love.
Yet still cry we who still in darkness plod:
"'Tis Antichrist ye serve and not our God!"

On the Psychology of Neutrals

By Friedrich Curtius

Friedrich Curtius, of Strassburg, had attained such distinction at the beginning of the century that Prince Chlodwig of Hohenlohe-Schillingfürst, who succeeded Count Caprivi as Chancellor of the German Empire, on his retirement in 1900, asked Curtius to co-operate with him in the preparation of the Memoirs (New York, The Macmillan Co., 1906) which have since become famous. But the joint work was brought to a sudden end by Prince Hohenlohe's death, and Friedrich Curtius devoted himself, for the next six or seven years, to the completion of the unfinished task. When the Memoirs were finally published, first in America and then in Germany, they were so outspoken as to bring down on Prince Alexander Hohenlohe and Friedrich Curtius the disfavour of the Kaiser. This article by Curtius appeared originally in the Deutsche Revue, May, 1915.

"All the world must hate or love; no
choice remains. The Devil is neutral."

SO sang Clemens Brentano in the year 1813. Today, we once more realize that the attempt to remain neutral through a conflict which is deciding the history of the world not only brings great spiritual difficulties, but is even felt to be a downright moral impossibility, just as the poet saw it a hundred years ago. Legal neutrality is, of course, a simple thing. Every state can itself practice it, and impose it as a duty on its citizens. One may even think that modern states should go further in this direction than they do. The indifference of the Government toward the business transactions of its citizens with foreign states is a political anomaly, comprehensible in an age when foreign policy in war and peace was viewed as something that concerned the ruler only, but contradictory in a democratic age, when wars are peoples' wars. Today, in all civilized states, the Government is morally answerable for those activities of its subjects which have international results. The American policy which permits the supply of weapons to England but allows England to prevent the export of grain to Germany, is a bad neutrality, morally untenable, a mere passivity, which lacks the will to do right. Such a standpoint might exist in a despotically governed state, but in a democratic Republic it is incomprehensible. For, from a genuinely democratic point of view, it does not signify whether the government or the citizens intervene to help or to hinder in an armed conflict. If we venture to speak at the right time of the development of international law, this, before all, must be demanded: that neutral states shall forbid the export of weapons, and that belligerents shall not hinder the import of foodstuffs for civilian populations.

Meanwhile the insecurity of the international attitude of neutrals is only a symptom of the difficulties to which neutrality of view is subject. These begin with the outbreak of the war. Each belligerent government believes itself to be in the right, and publishes a collection of documents which seem to it fitted to prove this right. This literature appearing in all the colours of the spectrum is really aimed at neutrals. For the belligerent nations themselves have weightier matters in hand than to sit in judgment upon their own governments. But the neutrals find themselves to decide which side is right. Yet this whole idea of a "just war" (coming to us from the moral philosophy of the Schoolmen) which shall expiate an injustice, as the judge punishes crimes, is antiquated. When, in the middle ages, the citizens of a town were maltreated or robbed by the authorities or citizens of another town, and the guilty party refused satisfaction, then the consequent feud might be viewed as a modified criminal case, and the right of the wronged town to help itself must be recognized. In exactly the same way, differences over questions of inheritance between independent states could only be decided by force, where, as in a civil suit, each party was convinced of its own justice. But the great wars of our time arise from causes which are different from their immediate occasions, from opposed interests which can only be decided by discovering which side has the power to enforce its will. If one wishes to ascribe the blame for a war to one of the parties, one need only ask which of them pursued an aim which could not be reached through a peaceful understanding. In the present war, we Germans have clear consciences, for we know, concerning ourselves and our government, that we strove for nothing but the maintenance of our position as a world-power, bought with heavy sacrifices, and the free, peaceful expansion of our sphere of action in the world. On the other hand, Russia desired to get to Constantinople ahead of Berlin and Vienna, France desired to win back Metz and Strassburg, England desired to destroy our sea-power and commerce—goals which could only be reached over prostrate Germany. On this understanding, it would not be difficult for neutrals to arrive at a clear and just judgment. But as the belligerents themselves did not announce their purposes, but much rather took pains to turn public attention from the causes to the occasion of the conflict, the judgment of neutrals is affected by this, and if they are really impartial in their view, they suffer morally under the burden of an insoluble problem. But if outspoken sympathy draws them toward one of the belligerent powers, then their judgment is as little objective as that of the belligerents themselves. Their pretended neutrality gives to their expressions a loathsome Pharisaical aspect, because they come to a decision according to their opinions as if they stood on a height above the contestants and, from this lofty standpoint, were holding an anticipated Last Judgment on kings and statesmen.

The same phenomena show themselves with regard to judgments concerning methods of warfare. It goes without saying that each belligerent party reports all the atrocities which are committed by its opponents and is silent as to its own shortcomings. Once more, neutrals feel compelled to form a judgment, and therefore, if they are conscientious, read the reports of both sides, and, as a result, find themselves in a desperate situation, because it is impossible, from the assertions and counter-assertions of the belligerents, to ascertain the actual facts of the case. In practice, mere chance decides which set of reports one comes across. And the exact proof of details is impossible to the most zealous newspaper-reader. Therefore one's judgment remains vacillating, and one is likely to come to this conclusion: to believe nothing at all. Naturally, the case is different here also, if one is previously in sympathy with one party. Then one believes the reports coming from that side, and leaves out of consideration those that stand against them. In this case, again, neutrals become as one-sided as belligerents, without having the indubitable right to be one-sided which the belligerents have.

And finally, in the decisive question, neutrality is excluded. Whatever judgments one may form as to the cause of the war, and as to methods of waging it, the final outcome is always the decisive factor. Only a completely demoralized and stupid man can boast, in cynical indifference, that the result of the war leaves him cold. Where spiritual life functions, wishes and prayers, hopes and fears, are passionately involved in the course of the mighty conflict. For it is not a question whether this or that nation shall experience more pleasure or pain, but the form of all Europe and of the world, for long periods to come, will be fixed by the decision of this war. That cannot be a matter of indifference for any thinking human being. An equilibrium of view, a real neutrality is as little possible here as it would have been in the Persian or Punic wars, or, a hundred years ago, in the revolt of Europe, against the domination of Napoleon. He who, invoking the neutrality of his state, does not takes sides in this decisive question, debases himself and his people with him. For to stand indifferent, taking no part in the mightiest events of history, is a degradation of humanity.

The neutrals in this world-war are, therefore, to be pitied rather than esteemed happy. Either they are only legally uncommitted, but have, in feeling and thought, taken the side of one of the belligerent parties: in which case it must weigh heavily on their hearts not to be able to come out openly for that side and to aid it with all their power; or they hold to neutrality as a positive political ideal: then the ethical solution of the dark questions of the right and wrong of the war, and the methods of warfare become a torturing and hopeless problem, and, in considering the future, the weakness and impracticability of what one has accepted as a legal precept becomes evident.

If the world-war should last much longer, then neutrality, as such, will probably go bankrupt. The economic injuries of the war weigh on neutrals as heavily as on belligerents. But they are far harder to bear when one has nothing to hope from the outcome of the war, when one must make continued sacrifices in sheer passivity, without knowing why. One would finally fall into despair, and accept anything that would bring this intolerable condition to an end. We hope that this extremity will not be reached, but rather that the decision of the war will come early enough to permit neutrals to preserve their attitude. That this should happen, is the common interest of mankind. For, in the collective life of civilized nations, neutrals have their own mission. Just because they share only the sufferings of the war, but do not partake of its inspiring and exalting forces, they are, of necessity, opponents of war, the providential mediators of the idea of peace, of international understanding, of the development and strengthening of international law. They can, during and after the conclusion of peace—if they unite and go forward with clearly formed ideals—have a notable effect. It will, in part, depend on their wisdom and firmness, whether it will be possible, within a conceivable time, to heal the deep wounds of humanity and international comity.

Chlorine Warfare

A Reuter dispatch, dated Amsterdam, June 26, 1915, reports that the "Kölnische Zeitung," in a semi-official defence of the German employment of gases, says:

"The basic idea of the Hague agreements was to prevent unnecessary cruelty and unnecessary killing when milder methods of putting the enemy out of action suffice and are possible. From this standpoint the letting loose of smoke-clouds which, in a gentle wind, move quite slowly towards the enemy is not only permissible by international law, but is an extraordinarily mild method of war. It has always been permissible to compel the enemy to evacuate positions by artificially caused flooding.

"Those who were not indignant, or even surprised, when our enemies in Flanders summoned water as a weapon against us, have no cause to be indignant when we make air our ally and employ it to carry stupefying (betäubende) gases against the enemy. What the Hague Convention desired to prevent was the destruction without chance of escape of human lives en masse, which would have been the case if shells with poisonous gas were rained down on a defenceless enemy who did not see them coming and was exposed to them irremediably. The changing forms of warfare make new methods of war continually necessary."

Rheims Cathedral

By Pierre Loti

This article by Pierre Loti (Captain Viaud) originally appeared in L'Illustration as the last of a series of three entitled "Visions of the Battle Front," and is translated for The New York Times Current History by Charles Johnston.

TO see it, our legendary and marvellous French basilica, to bid it farewell, before its fall and irremediable crumbling to dust, I had made my military auto make a detour of two hours on my return from completing a service mission.

The October morning was foggy and cold. The hillsides of Champagne were on that day deserted; with their vines with leaves of blackened brown, damp with rain, they seemed all clad in a sort of shining leather. We had also passed through a forest, keeping our eyes alert, our weapons ready, for the possibility of marauding Uhlans. And at last we had perceived the immense form of a church, far off in the mist, rising in all its great height above the plots of reddish squares, which must be the roofs of houses; evidently that was it.

The entrance to Rheims: defences of every kind, barriers of stone, trenches, spiked fences, sentinels with crossed bayonets. To pass, the uniform and accoutrements of a soldier are not enough. We must answer questions, give the pass-words....

In the great city, which I had not visited before, I ask the way to the cathedral, for it is no longer visible; its silhouette which, seen from a distance, so completely dominates everything, as a giant's castle might dominate the dwellings of dwarfs, its high gray silhouette seems to have bent down to hide itself. "The cathedral," the people reply, "at first straight on; then you must turn to the left, then to the right, and so on." And my auto plunges into the crowded streets. Many soldiers, regiments on the march, files of ambulance wagons; but also many chance passers-by, no more concerned than if nothing was happening; even many well-dressed women with prayer-books in their hands, for it is Sunday.

Where two streets cross, there is a crowd before a house, the walls of which have been freshly scratched; a shell fell there, just now, without any useful result, as without any excuse. A mere brutal jest, to say: "You know, we are here!" A mere game, a question of killing a few people, choosing Sunday morning because there are more people in the streets. But, in truth, one would say that this city has completely made up its mind to being under the savage field-glasses ambushed on the neighboring hillsides; these passers-by stop a minute to look at the wall, the marks of the bits of iron, and then quietly continue their Sunday walk. This time it was some women, they tell us, and little girls that this neat jest laid low in pools of blood; they tell us that; and they think no more of it, as if it were a very small thing in days like these.... Now the district becomes deserted; closed houses, a silence, as of mourning. And at the end of a street, the great gray doors appear, the high pointed arches marvellously chiseled, the high towers. Not a sound, and not a living soul on the square where the phantom basilica still sits enthroned, and an icy wind blows there, under an opaque sky.

It still keeps its place as by a miracle, the basilica of Rheims, but so riddled and torn that one divines that it is ready to founder at the slightest shock; it gives the impression of a great mummy, still upright and majestic, but which a mere nothing will turn to ashes. The ground is strewn with precious relics of it. It has been hurriedly surrounded with a solid barrier of white boards, within which its holy dust has formed heaps: fragments of rose-windows, broken piles of stained glass, heads of angels, the joined hands of saints. From the top of the tower to the base, the charred stone has taken on a strange color of cooked flesh, and the holy personages, still upright in rows on the cornices, have been peeled, as it were, by the fire; they no longer have faces or fingers, and, with their human forms, which still persist, they look like the dead drawn up in files, their contours vaguely indicated under a sort of reddish grave-clothes.

We make the circuit of the square without meeting anyone, and the barrier which isolates the fragile and still admirable phantom is everywhere solidly closed. As for the old palace adjoining the basilica, the episcopal palace where the kings of France came to rest on the day of their consecration, it is no longer anything more than a ruin, without windows or roof, everywhere licked and blackened by the flame.

What a peerless jewel it was, this cathedral, still more beautiful than Notre Dame in Paris. More open and lighter, more slender also, with its columns like long reeds, wonderful to be so fragile, and yet to hold firm; a wonder of our French religious art, a masterpiece which the faith of our ancestors had caused to blossom there in its mystic purity, before they came to us from Italy, to materialize and spoil everything, the sensual heaviness of what we have agreed to call the Renaissance....

Oh! the coarse and cowardly and imbecile brutality of those bundles of iron, launched in full flight against the lace-work, so delicate, that had risen confidently in the air for centuries, and which so many battles, invasions, scourges have never dared to touch!...

That great closed house, there, on the square, must be the Archbishop's residence. I try ringing the bell at the entrance to ask the favor of admission to the cathedral. "His Eminence," I am told, "is at mass, but will soon return." If I am willing to wait.... And, while I wait, the priest who receives me relates to me the burning of the episcopal palace: "Beforehand, they had sprinkled the roofs with I know not what diabolical substance; when they then threw their incendiary bombs, the timbers burned like straw, and you saw everywhere jets of green flame, which spread with the noise of fireworks."

In fact, the barbarians had premeditated this sacrilege, and prepared it long ago; in spite of their foolishly absurd pretexts, in spite of their shameless denials, what they wished to destroy here was the very heart of old France; some superstitious fancy drove them to it, as much as their instinct of savages, and this is the task they plunged into desperately, when nothing else in the city, or almost nothing, suffered.

"Could not an effort be made," I said, "to replace the burned roof of the cathedral?—to cover the vaulted roofs again as quickly as possible? For without this they cannot resist the coming winter."

"Evidently," he said, "at the first snows, at the first rains, there is a risk that everything will fall, the more so, as those charred stones have lost their power of resistance. But we cannot even try that, to preserve them a little, for the Germans never take their eyes off us; at the end of their field-glasses, it is the cathedral, always the cathedral; and as soon as a man ventures to appear on a turret, in a tower, the rain of shells immediately begins again. No, there is nothing to be done. It is in the hands of God."

Returning, the prelate graciously gives me a guide, who has the keys of the barrier, and at last I penetrate into the ruins of the cathedral, into the denuded nave, which thus appears still higher and more immense. It is cold there; it is sad enough to make one weep. This unexpected cold, this cold much keener than outside, is, perhaps, what from the first takes hold of you, disconcerts you; instead of the slightly heavy odor which generally fills ancient churches—the vapor of so much incense that has been burned there, the emanations of so many coffins that have been blessed there, of so many generations of men that have crowded there, for agony and prayer—instead of this, a damp and icy wind, which enters rustling through all the crevices of the walls, through the breaches in the stained glass windows and the holes in the vaulted ceilings. Those vaulted roofs, up there, here and there smashed by grapeshot—one's eyes are immediately lifted up by instinct to look at them, one's eyes are, as it were, drawn to them by the up-springing of all these columns, as slender as reeds, which rise in sheaves to sustain them; they have retreating curves of exquisite grace, which seem to have been imagined, so as not to allow the glances sent heavenward to fall back again. One never grows weary of bending one's head back in order to see them, to see the sacred roofs which are about to fall into nothingness; and they are up there also, far up, the long series of almost aerial pointed arches, on which they are supported, pointed arches indefinitely alike from one end of the nave to the other, and which, in spite of their complicated carvings, are restful to follow in their retreating perspective, so harmonious are they.

And it is better to go forward beneath them with raised head, not too carefully looking where one walks, for this pavement, rather sadly sonorous, has recently been soiled and blackened by the charring of human flesh. It is known that, on the day of the fire, the cathedral was full of German wounded, stretched on straw beds which caught fire, and it became a scene of horror worthy of a dream of Dante; all these creatures, whose raw wounds were baked in the flames, dragging themselves, screaming, on their red stumps, to try to reach the narrow doors. One knows also the heroism of the ambulance bearers, priests and nuns, risking their lives in the midst of the bombs, to try to save these hapless brutes, whom their own brother Germans had not even thought of sparing; however, they did not succeed in saving them all; some remained, and were burned to death in the nave, leaving foul clots on the sacred flagstones, where of old processions of kings and queens slowly dragged their ermine mantles, to the music of the great organ and the Gregorian chants....

"Look!" says my guide to me, showing me a large hole in one of the aisles, "that is the work of a shell which they fired at us yesterday evening; then come and see a miracle." And he leads me into the choir, where the statue of Jeanne d'Arc, preserved, one would say, by some special grace, is still there, intact, with eyes of gentle ecstasy.

The most irreparable loss is that of the great stained glass windows, which the mysterious artists of the thirteenth century so religiously composed, in meditation and dream, gathering the saints by hundreds, with their translucent draperies, their luminous halos. There also German scrap-iron rushed in great stupid bundles, crushing everything. The masterpieces, which no one will ever reproduce, have scattered their fragments on the flagstones, forever impossible to separate, the golds, the reds, the blues, whose secret is lost. Ended, the rainbow transparencies, ended, the graceful, naïve attitudes of all these holy people, with their pale little ecstatic faces; the thousands of precious fragments of these stained glass windows which, in the course of centuries, had little by little become iris-tinted like opals, are lying on the ground—where they still shine like jewels....

A whole splendid cycle of our history, which seemed to go on living in this sanctuary, with a life almost terrestrial, though immaterial, has just been plunged suddenly into the abyss of things that are ended, whose very memory will soon perish. The Great Barbarity has passed by, the modern barbarism from beyond the Rhine, a thousand times worse than the ancient, because it is stupidly and outrageously self-satisfied, and, in consequence, fundamental, incurable, final—destined, if it be not crushed, to throw a sinister night of eclipse over the world....

Verily, this Jeanne d'Arc in the choir has very strangely remained, untouched, immaculate, in the midst of the disorder, with not even the slightest scratch on her dress....

The English Falsehood

By Sven Hedin

Early in the war Sven Hedin, the Swedish explorer and writer, visited the German front to see the world-war at first hand. "A People in Arms," published in Leipzig and dedicated to the German soldiers, is the result. A preface proclaims the author's neutrality as a Swede and announces that he "swears before God that I have written not a line which is not the truth and have depicted nothing which I have not witnessed with my own eyes." This article is one of his concluding sketches.

I SHOULD like to have seen how the troops of India stood the raw autumn in Artois and Flanders. But the Indian prisoners at Lille were transferred to the East in order to make room for fresh contingents. I, myself, have experienced the difficulty of transplanting Indians to a colder climate. On my last journey to Tibet I had two Kadschputs from Cashmere with me. When we got into the mountains they nearly froze to death, and my caravan leader, Muhamed Isa, declared they would be about as useful as puppies. I had to send them back. The same thing happened to me with my Indian cook; outside India he was absolutely useless. In Tibet they live on meat, in India on vegetables. How could he stand so sudden a change of both climate and diet!

Now the press has been claiming that the English have ordered a full contingent from India to Europe. I found it hard to believe but at the front I learned that it was true. "How do you treat the Indian soldiers?" I once asked a couple of officers. "We just arrest them," answered one, and the other added: "We don't need to do even that; they will soon die in the trenches."

When I admit that I myself made a stupid blunder in thinking that Indians could do service in Tibet, I am justified in claiming that Lord Charles Beresford made ten times as stupid a blunder when he expressed the hope of seeing "Indian lances roaming the streets of Berlin and the little brown Gurkas making themselves comfortable in the park of Sans Souci."

But the import of Indian troops is more than a stupid blunder—it is a crime!

For almost a century and a half Great Britain has performed the shining mission of acting as India's guardian; no other people probably could successfully carry through so gigantic a task. Indian troops have fought with honor against their neighbors, and, moreover have assisted in maintaining order among the 300 millions of their people.

But never has it occurred to an English government as now to the Liberal government, to oppose black infidels to Christian Europeans! That is a crime against culture, against civilization and against Christianity. And if the English missionaries approve it, then are they hypocrites and false bearers of the Gospel.

India's English rulers despise—and rightfully—all marital relations between whites and Hindoos; the children of such marriages are regarded as mules, and are often called such; they are neither horse nor ass, they are half caste. In Calcutta they have their own quarter and are allowed to live in no other part of the city. But—when it comes to the question of overthrowing the "German barbarians," then an alliance with the bronze-skinned people is good enough for England!

Is it one of the twentieth century's worthy advances in culture and civilization that the unsuspecting Indian is brought hundreds of miles over land and sea that he may on the battlefields of Europe drive to destruction the first soldiers of the world, the German army? Even though some may answer this question in the affirmative, I hold unshaken to my assertion that such a course of action is the very height of frightfulness! Not frightful to the German soldiers, for I know what sort of feeling the Indian fighters have for them—respect and sympathy!

And we aren't much nearer that "roaming about in the streets of Berlin," and the lindens of Sans Souci are not yet waving above the warriors from the slopes of the Himalayas.

What must these Indian troops think of their white masters? That the future will show. Whoever has seen something of the land of a thousand legends, who has ridden over the crests of the Himalayas, who has dreamed in the moonlight before the Taj Mahal, who has seen the holy Ganges slip gray and soft past the wharves of Benares, who has been entranced by the train of elephants under the mango trees of Dekkan—in short, whoever has loved India and admired the order and security which prevails there under the English rule, he will need no very powerful imagination to understand with what thoughts the Indian soldiers will go back, and with what feelings their families and their fellow countrymen in the little narrow huts on the slopes of the Himalayas will listen to their accounts. Only with a shudder can we think of this, for it must be said that here a crime against civilization and Christianity has been done in the name of civilization.

The question cannot be suppressed: Will the Indian contingent really be used? Will not the white millions of Great Britain, Canada and Australia suffice, to say nothing of the French, Belgians, Russians, Serbians, Montenegrins and Japanese? Apparently not. In The Times of September 5th appears in large letters: The need for more men. Already they are in need of more people to overthrow the Kultur of the "German barbarians"! The English people must be educated by a special method in order to understand both the cause and the aim of this war. Otherwise the Englishman will stay at home and play, football and cricket.

And what is this education of the people? In regard to this the English press informs us daily. It is a systematic lie! The fatal reality, that England is slowly sliding to catastrophe, must be hidden by a strict censorship. The English people has no suspicion of Hindenburg's victories. The development of the German operations in Poland is translated into a victorious move of the Russians on Berlin! The most shameful slander concerning the Kaiser is spread abroad! The Germans are barbarians who must be annihilated, and the civilized peoples of Servia, Senegambia and Portugal must take part in this praiseworthy undertaking!

England carries on this war with a perversion of the truth, and truth is as rare in the English press as lies in the German.

But do the people really believe what they read in the English newspapers? Yes, blindly! I have been convinced of this by letters received from England. An appeal signed by many scholars—among them several Nobel prize winners—and sent to me, closes with the words:

We regret deeply that under the unwholesome influence of a military system and its unrestrained dreams of domination, the country which we have once honored now has become Europe's common enemy and the enemy of all people who respect the rights of nations. We must carry to an end this war which we have entered. For us as for the Belgians it is a war of defense, which will be fought through for peace and freedom.

The old story of the splinter and the beam! Is England's rule of the sea no military system then? Can there be conceived a more far-reaching militarism than that which stretches out its conquests over five continents? Which even clutches at the straw which republican Portugal holds out and announces "the need for more men" in the newspapers?

What was the Boer War then? An expression perhaps of this same humane solicitude for the small states which now causes England to break the lance for Belgium's independence?

It would be useless at this late day to attempt to determine what would have been the course of the great war had England stayed out of it. But this much is certain, that Belgium's loss of independence would have lasted only until the conclusion of peace. The war would then not have grown as now to be a world-war—to be the greatest and most tragic catastrophe which the human race has ever suffered. No nation has ever incurred a greater, a more comprehensive responsibility than England! And one can only regret most deeply that these men will have to bear now and in the world to come the full and oppressive burden of that responsibility.