In order to commemorate the twenty-fifth anniversary of the foundation of the Universal Postal Union a monument was unveiled at Berne in October 1910. The sculptor is M. René de Saint Marceaux of Paris. On a ledge of a rock whose broad base is solidly embedded in the earth, and from the foot of which flows a small spring, is seated a woman whose delicate hand rests on the escutcheon of the town of Berne. On the summit of the rock a bank of clouds, which seems to glide in space, bears up a sphere round which float five female figures, symbols of the five continents of the world. The figures are passing a letter from hand to hand, illustrating the activity of the universal post. Always moving, regardless of obstruction or frontiers, it carries to the utmost limits of the world the messages of joy or mourning which are entrusted to its care. The monument is an additional ornament to the beautiful city of Berne: it is also an abiding memory of the success of the greatest of modern efforts to bring under one banner all the nations of the earth.

CHAPTER XVII
CONCERNING FOREIGN POST OFFICES

The whole tendency of the postal system in Europe and America is towards uniformity. The Postal Union is largely responsible for this, while the necessities of trade and foreign travel have brought about a simplification of methods and rates everywhere. Still, wherever there are differences of race and nationality even identical systems will be worked differently, and anybody who has travelled in Europe and America is forced at every turn to compare, favourably or unfavourably as the case may be, the foreign Post Office with the one which he is accustomed to at home. Perhaps the chief differences that an Englishman notes in several European countries are the more leisurely ways of the official: this individual does not understand the necessity for speeding up, and he looks upon the man who is in a hurry as simply a mad Englishman. The leading features of our own postal system are to be found in most countries: the postal service, the telegraph, and the telephone are usually linked together, and the difference is the human factor. The experiences of all travellers differ for this very reason. Some return home with really heartrending accounts of their experiences with the foreign Post Offices, with tales of red tape and “the insolence of office” which are not to be matched with the complaints of our people against their own Post Office. Many of these complaints of travellers arise obviously out of difficulties with the language, and the absurd irritation of the average Britisher at ways and methods of doing things which do not correspond with his idea of good business. Other travellers return with glowing accounts of the superiority of foreign methods, of the courtesy which has been shown to them by officials, and of the many conveniences they have found abroad to which this country is still a stranger. Many of us, for instance, have revelled in the privileges offered to the tourist in Switzerland. There is scarcely anything you cannot send by post in Switzerland, from a piece of card to a well-filled travelling trunk or a sack of potatoes. But then we must remember that the chief industry of Switzerland is tourists, and she certainly caters for these in a most exemplary manner. There is, perhaps, more rigidity in applying postal regulations on the Continent than in this country. Especially is this the case in Germany, where the whole nation understands discipline. What we sneer at as red tape the German regards as a necessary part of the organisation of his empire.

But, broadly speaking, the Continental Post Office is closely allied to our own in its methods, and where it differs is in its adaptation to local habits and peculiarities.

There is a type of English traveller who habitually regards the foreigner as a person incapable of the higher civilisation to be found in the British Isles. We can have no sympathy with him, and the British Post Office has learnt much and is learning much from the Post Offices of other countries. The German Post Office is, for instance, one of the best-organised systems in the world. The German people owe this state of things largely to the ability and energy of Dr. Von Stephan, who was mainly instrumental in establishing the Postal Union. The post offices of the German Empire are among the finest modern buildings in Europe. Many were built under the direction of Dr. Von Stephan, and they are an example to the British Post Office of how such buildings should be erected. It was a fixed principle with Dr. Von Stephan, that when any special type of architecture distinguished any particular town the architecture of the post office should faithfully reflect it. As a consequence the offices which have been erected since 1870 reveal great diversities of style, and are in striking contrast to the monotony characteristic of our English post offices. We may be quite sure that the German Postmaster-General would never have sanctioned the erection in a quaint old English town, full of Tudor and Jacobean architecture, of a “standard post office.” Yet this enormity is constantly being perpetrated in some of our old English towns and villages, and the consequence is that the beauty and picturesqueness of the place are seriously damaged. The post office swears at the rest of the buildings, and if the buildings had only a voice I am quite sure they would swear at the post office.

Then Germany was for years in advance of Great Britain in the provision of underground cables for telegraphic purposes. Before even a start in this direction had been made by the British Post Office over 220 cities and towns of the German Empire had secured telegraphic communications in spite of storms, and above all in spite of the accidents of war.

But against all this we have the accusation that the German official is rude and overbearing. He gives the impression that you, being only a civilian, should wait on his convenience: it is your recognition of the dignity of his office. A writer in The Sketch some time ago described the outcome of his temerity in venturing to enter a post office in Germany to purchase a postage stamp. The first thing which struck him was the arrangement of little slits in the glass walls, behind which the postal officials sat. He took up his place at the end of a queue of people, but after waiting some time without being able to report progress, took steps to find out the cause and found that the slit had not been opened. The official on duty appeared unperturbed, and was not doing anything in particular.

“Finally, with a gravity unsurpassed, I should venture to think, in history, an official undid the slit. Then a few stamps and cards were sold to members of the queue. Then the official's attention was distracted.

“'Would it be possible—?' a lady with bowed neck humbly began.

“'No.'