The Bloomersdijk
IN this cartoon the artist symbolizes with drastic irony the powerlessness of Holland to claim respect for her rights or to maintain her national prestige. If the fair Dutch flag stands in the way of the Teutonic bully, he just tears it down and tramples it underfoot. In the view of Germany the time is long past when a little community of human beings could sustain independent existence if its policy interfered in the smallest degree with the convenience of the great German tyranny. This is at once the humiliation of countries like Holland, and their claim on the active sympathy of the Allies. What can the nice little boy in the picture do to protect himself against the fists and the boots of the huge man in a Prussian helmet? Manifestly, nothing! His only chance is that his big brethren may succeed in thrashing the selfish, powerful brute as he deserves.
The attitude of Germany toward the little sovereign states of Europe was laid down two years ago, with ineffable assurance, by Herr von Jägow. He said: “In the transformation of Europe to the profit of the Teutonic Powers, the little surrounding States must no longer presume to lead the independent existence which at present feeds their vanity. They are all destined to disappear in the orbit of the German Empire.” In other words, as the rest of Germany has been subjugated by Prussia, so Belgium, Holland, Denmark, Montenegro, and Serbia must make up their minds to be melted into the Central Empire of Kultur. Not one of them is rich enough to maintain its existence. In the meantime, if Prussia finds it convenient to sink a Bloomersdijk, so much the worse for Holland, who would do well to swallow the injury in silence. And all that the civilized and cultured little countries can do is, through the tears of their exasperation, to cry aloud to God, “How long, O Lord, how long?”
The “U” Boats off the American Coast
THERE is a grim persistency with which Raemaekers pursues the power which, in the first terrible weeks of the war, he recognized as the enemy of European civilization. Time has not lessened the intensity of that vision, which came to him—a neutral—with no prepossessions in favor of England and her allies, and which is, indeed, the whole significance of the fine work he has done for our cause throughout the world. Less steadfast folk of our own blood begin to wonder if, after all, it be quite worth while, seeing that the burglar is so strong, to go on with our opposition to him; and whether it would not be better to hand our valuables—freedom, mercy, and other trifling gewgaws—into his safe keeping.