"The task of the nineteenth century," he replied, "was to let national feeling grow subconsciously. In Prussia, Fichte, the first rector of the new Berlin University, made his famous 'Speeches for the German Nation.' Jahn preached 'German Unity.' Achim von Arnim collected German songs and war songs of German warriors. Even Schiller wrote in his later years of Germany as the heart and center of Europe, and began to feel more national than Goethe ever did. The idea grew and produced united Italy and united Germany. But this process of attaining national consciousness is not yet achieved. In America it is not nearly finished. It is a sociological, unconsciously pedagogical process. The time will come when nationalism will be thoroughly saturated in each country. When it does and not until then, states will see that it is impossible to produce and consume everything. That will be the beginning of international consciousness. Then the national spirit will become secondary to conscious internationalism. When that time comes, world peace will be possible."

I was going to ask Professor Stein how far off that day was but thought it best first to take up his point, the thorough establishment of the national idea being the beginning of world peace.

"As the national feeling grows," I asked him, "will not the goal for peace become always more remote? It seems to me that international consciousness is dependent upon the people of one country knowing the people of another. How can, for instance, the Russian peasant ever understand the customs and personality of say, the poor man in England? Because of geographical reasons they can never get into touch with one another; how then are the masses of the states of the world ever going to understand each other, and how without this understanding can there ever be world peace?"

Professor Stein believes that this barrier can be overcome.

"Modern science and fast steamers," he replied, "the wireless, and better international trade understanding are constantly bringing together all states. Through journalists, merchants, diplomats and extensive traveling on the part of the people of all countries, the inhabitants of all different parts of the world begin to know each other. A hundred years ago the Roumanian peasant did not know possibly that there was an Argentine. To-day, though, the Roumanian knows that the price he gets for his wheat depends upon what the Argentine farmers get for theirs. I believe that as science progresses and culture spreads over the world, that the geographical barrier to peace can be broken down. Consider Switzerland, it is the ideal. Three races, French, German and Italian, live within its walls, but they are held together by culture."

I pointed out that Switzerland was so small that the French, Germans and Italians had a chance to know and understand their different customs and personalities, and asked Professor Stein if culture was also holding together Austria-Hungary?

"Austria," he said, "is an exception. Politically it is necessary to have the monarchial symbol there, because only in a military state would it be possible for so many different races to live at peace with themselves. Austria is different from Switzerland because it is a crazy quilt of many different, uncultured, mostly illiterate, to some extent nomadic races."

The Professor, who is a great admirer of Herbert Spencer and whom Spencer said understood him better than any Continental thinker, thereupon mentioned the point that the famous Englishman had made.

"Spencer," he said, "wrote that instead of war, a competition in traffic and industry would take place between nations."

"But, Professor," I asked, "does not traffic and industry breed war; what caused this war? Was not commercial jealousy between England and Germany one of the vital causes of the war?"