If there has been wavering in their devotion, if the process of yielding themselves to the ideals and interests of this country has been arrested, they are not altogether to blame, and we ourselves are not altogether blameless.
It was thoroughly in harmony with the American Spirit that our sympathies should go out to brave little Belgium, and turn from the ruthless conqueror who was much nearer to us culturally and in greater harmony with us spiritually. It was also natural for the German people in this country to challenge the evident bias of the press, and the resultant prejudices arising in the minds of their friends and neighbors. Being German they knew what a German soldier is capable of doing, and of what atrocities he is guiltless; although in the attempt to defend their people they in turn became as unfair as we, condoning every act of the Germans and besmirching their enemies.
How far this bias can carry one is illustrated by the German pastor in a neighboring town, one of the gentlest souls I know, who, when told of the destruction of the Lusitania, said: “Thanks be to God, let the good work go on.” He will not have to live very long to repent of this.
To match him I may quote a most lovable Quaker lady nearly ninety years of age, who, with a violence in striking contrast to the Quaker character, expressed as her dearest wish that she might be permitted to kill the Emperor of Germany, and I am almost sure she was not alone in that pious desire, even among the members of her family.
The German press and the German pulpit have fanned this reawakened Germanic spirit, not always from lofty motives, and many an editor and pastor have found this antagonism a source of revenue and a hope of perpetuating their influence.
If the American press both in its news and editorial columns has been painful reading to any one who loves fair play, it did not help him to turn to the German press, whose utterances were made more distressing by the fact that not infrequently they contained expressions bordering on treason. Had their editors lived in Germany and spoken of the Emperor in the same words which they applied to their President, their terms of imprisonment, if combined, would reach into eternity.
Even after the war the attempt will be made to keep alive this antagonism, and if possible to widen the breach. It will be a serious challenge to our national spirit, for I doubt that we can maintain a vital unity unless it represents one country, one people, and one language.
I know of no way in which to meet this danger effectively; but I do know that it is not through reprisals or punishments. Perhaps it is best to hope that at the close of the war we shall all recover our sanity. Certain it is that the American people have in the Germans in this country too valuable and powerful an element to alienate, and the German people who have made this country their home have too great a sense of the value of it and its institutions, to them and their children, to be willing to jeopardize the American Spirit, because of that which must be but a passing phase in the history of our poor, misguided, human race.
Besides the threatened break in unity, the American Spirit is being challenged by a call to arms, not merely to avert any momentary, threatened danger, but to be permanently safeguarded, prepared against its predatory neighbors all around the globe. Whether those who join in this call know it or not, or wish it or not, it means militarism. When just such arguments were used for Germany’s preparedness, when that gospel was being preached with all possible fervor, one of the wisest Germans said: “Wehrkraft wird immer Mehrkraft” (“Defensive power always becomes offensive power”), and I am sure that the average American will say that, in the case of Germany, this has proved true.
If I were arguing for military preparedness, I would not be so insistent upon the building of new fortresses, or the accumulation of ammunition. I would insist upon training our children in obedience and reverence. I would give them schoolmasters who know what they teach and who would demand strict application to the curriculum. I would oppose the growing pedagogic idea that the schoolroom is a playground, and that knowledge may be acquired without hard work. I would restore the rod and banish the coddler. I would call in our high school boys from the side lines, from their vicarious athletics and their slavish imitation of college customs, and teach them how to dig trenches and serve cannon, which seem to be the chief need in modern military operations.