England and Germany

THE German Emperor, at the reception given him at the Guildhall in London, in November, referring to his address at his previous reception at the Guildhall in 1891, emphasized anew his desire to promote the peace of the world.

“I said then, on this spot, that my aim was above all the maintenance of peace. History, I venture to hope, will do me justice, in that I have pursued this aim unswervingly ever since. The main prop and base for the peace of the world is the maintenance of the good relations between our two countries, and I will further strengthen them so far as lies in my power. The German nation’s wishes coincide with mine.”

It was not pleasant to read, in connection with the report of the Emperor’s warm words and of the festivities at London and at Windsor, the dispatches of that week to our American newspapers, stating that, while the reception accorded the Emperor by the people of London was respectful, the atmosphere which prevailed during his appearances in public was cool, and that the English officials were even relieved that his passages through the streets passed off without any disagreeable incidents. The principal dispatch added this comment: —

“The anti-German feeling among a large section of the English people derived fresh impetus from the antagonism which cropped out between the two nations on various lines during the recent conference at The Hague. However cordial the relations between the ruling houses of Great Britain and Germany may be, the British public does not share these sentiments. A large section, if not a majority, of English people persists in believing Germany to be Great Britain’s one enemy among the nations, and this enmity has been fanned recently by continuous warnings from some of the leading newspapers and reviews, as well as from military experts, that Germany’s chief naval and military activity is directed toward schemes for the invasion of England, that Germany plans to surprise England some day when she is fully prepared to strike suddenly, just as Japan surprised Russia.”

This word, printed in a thousand newspapers, is the blunt expression of a feeling which has been widespread in England for the last half-dozen years, and which during the last autumn I found harbored and confessed by serious men of high standing in London to an amazing extent. The amenities attending the Emperor’s recent visit have done something to improve the situation, but not much. When a feeling pregnant with so great mischief exists, in so great degree, it is probably a good thing to have it find open expression; and the outspoken declaration ought to receive sharp discussion. The feeling is probably no worse than it was two years ago. The German Chancellor, in his address to the Reichstag in November, spoke frankly of the present relations between the two countries as “strained.” Two years ago the relations were more manifestly strained. I remember hearing a well-known English publicist, a man of large experience in both political and commercial circles, say at that time that he had more than once in such circles heard frank avowal of the opinion that, if England were ever going to check the rapidly-growing German navy, the sooner she did it the better, before it got any larger; the smashing would be easier now than later. It was a common English belief that Germany was planning war with France, and that England must become involved; and there was much growling in the newspapers of all the countries. A conference of the English and German delegates at the International Peace Congress at Lucerne in the autumn of 1905 resulted in efforts which undoubtedly did much to allay the irritation and promote better understanding. The best of these achievements was the interchange of visits between large bodies of the journalists of the two countries. The Germans had a magnificent reception in London, and the Englishmen had an equally fine reception in the German cities; and the tone of the newspapers has certainly improved. The Times among London newspapers had almost a monopoly of bad manners and insolence in discussing in October the expected visit of the German Emperor and his chancellor, and was rebuked with energy by its contemporaries. There was no incident in the Emperor’s visit to London more interesting than his cordial reception of the large delegation of London journalists, with his warm word to them upon the power and duty of the press to promote fraternity and good understanding among nations.

The suspicion and jealousy, with whatever ameliorations, have persisted. My love for England has such frequent occasion for expression that I shall not incur any charge of partiality for Germany when I say that the ill feeling seems to me much commoner and more menacing in England than in Germany. I should have said this with yet stronger emphasis before the extravagances of the German Navy League in December. There was not the slightest admixture of coolness in the reception of King Edward in Germany last summer; there was the utmost cordiality and warmth among all classes of the German people and in all agencies of public opinion.

But why should there not be, is the ruffled Briton’s rejoinder. King Edward is “the peacemaker,” and the Kaiser is “the war lord,” always threatening to disturb the peace; and he talks of the Kaiser’s message of sympathy for Kruger and his “butting in” in Morocco. The disinterested outsider finds no difficulty in explaining both of these incidents upon grounds involving no enmity to the true England. English history itself in fifty years will deal with the promoters of the Boer War quite as sharply as it now deals with Lord North, much more sharply than Lord Salisbury, considerably less than fifty years after the Crimean War, passed judgment upon the policy of that war, — a judgment so akin to that for which the English populace at the time was willing to mob Cobden and Bright, — and will praise an " impulsive ” Kaiser as it praises the rest of the critics. The general historian will say that the Algeciras Conference marked an epoch in international procedure, forcing the nations henceforth to concerted action in situations like that in Morocco, instead of leaving greedy nations each to its individual pleasure; that this was the thing of real significance in the episode — and that this was due to the German Emperor, even conceding that he, like the rest, was actuated also by thoughts of future trade. The American will rejoice that the situation which was created gave his government its first impressive occasion to appear at the European council board, and did more than anything before to shatter the superstition so long sustained by our expanded Monroe Doctrine that this is still politically, as in 1823, a world of two hemispheres and not one round world. The historian will also say that this same “war lord” throughout his reign — his challenge to history at the Guildhall was a safe one — has faithfully kept the peace; that while during the last generation England and almost every nation in Europe, as well as the United States, have been engaged in wars, England and the United States in what many of us count peculiarly wicked wars, Germany, barring the wretched chapter in West Africa, has for the whole long period of almost forty years kept out of war. In truth, the Morocco speech and the Kruger message have little to do with it; they are mere pegs on which to hang pique. The real thing is the immense industrial and commercial development of Germany since 1870, to most observers the most pregnant and impressive phenomenon in Europe to-day. Germany has increased in population as notably as in prosperity, — almost twenty millions in the period since the Franco-Prussian War. Her great cities have doubled and trebled in population. We think Chicago a miracle; but since 1870 Berlin has grown relatively and absolutely faster than Chicago, the Greater Berlin having to-day a population of over three millions. Thirty years ago, when I was a Leipzig student, the population of Leipzig was less than 150,000; to-day it is more than half a million. Dresden is larger than Leipzig, Munich much larger, Breslau and Cologne only a little smaller. Hamburg then had almost precisely the same population as Boston; to-day, although Boston’s growth has been so great, Hamburg, with more than 800,000 people, is larger than Boston; the growth of her commerce has been vastly greater, and her docks and port facilities are incomparably finer, models commended to Boston for imitation at this very moment by an expert commission. The HamburgAmerican line and the North German Lloyd are the largest steamship companies in the world, larger than any English companies, the former having more than 150 ocean steamers in its service. It has been largely the beauty, speed, and comfort of the German steamers which have forced the immense general improvement in the Atlantic service in the last dozen years. The development of the German railway system has been as remarkable as the development of ocean commerce. The great railway stations especially are the finest in Europe, — by all odds superior to those in the great English cities; the finest of them all as yet, the new union station now building at Leipzig, will cost $25,000,000. Nowhere else is city-making such an art; at this time the University of Berlin is planning a special department devoted to the wise and beautiful laying-out of cities, with provision for making the lectures available to the directing municipal officials of Germany. In industrial and technical education, from top to bottom, Germany’s achievements in this line have been amazing. She is far ahead of England, as she is in so much ahead of us. It is by science that she has pushed her way to industrial supremacy in so many fields, that she has captured the chemical industries of Europe and in so large degree the electrical industries, and that she is distancing or crowding England and ourselves in the markets of the world.

Our selfish competitive instincts, stirred by this, made Germany the favorite target of our own jingo talk two or three years ago. We were quite sure, until the German ambassador or somebody took the trouble to give the petty census of Germans in Brazil, — it were heartily to be wished that fifty million Germans might find their way into that great continent, — that she was threatening terrible things down there, and that our old Monroe gong must be got out and beaten with power. Here, perhaps, was to come the splendid chance, sure to come sometime for those who wait for it, to show the stuff in our new navy; and shrewd shakings of the head about those menacing Germans helped to get an extra cruiser or two — as similar flurry about the Japanese helped last spring to get one or two more, and is being industriously worked at this moment to get more still. Our hysteria about Germany was a mild attack, and now seems to have disappeared. England’s case is severer, and persists. She feels in her bones that Germany, with her crowding population, her prosperity and her demand for markets, must feel the need for colonies and dependencies, and that inasmuch as she herself, in the days when German industry was an infant, had appropriated almost the whole available earth, Germany must somehow covet some of her domain, or somehow wish to cripple and supplant her maritime power or do something to reduce her and get ahead of her. The new German navy can only be intended for use against England, at the right time; and the time will be within half a dozen years. Why the same suspicion has not yet been born in England about our own new navy, stronger than Germany’s, while having a much less precious merchant marine to safeguard, does not appear. A popular book, of The Battle of Dorking species, detailing this coming German invasion, a book now having wide circulation in England, places the date at 1910; but the more conservative folk, including military experts, incline to 1912. The sober judgment thus of a general in the regular army, representing sundry other generals, was reliably reported to me. These expert folk claim authentic knowledge — of course the Berlin war office shares all such secrets with visiting Englishmen ! — that German experts have mapped England in such detail for military purposes that the number of cavalry horses which can be stalled in the stables of every manor-house from Penzance to Berwick-on-Tweed is registered. Many German youths who were innocently supposed by most of us to have come to London to earn their living as waiters in restaurants were really, according to the truly wise, on this business. One of the ablest statesmen of England declared to me his belief, shared, he assured me, by many like himself, that if England had voted at The Hague for the inviolability of ocean commerce in war, Germany would have been at war with her in less than two years!

I think that the extent and seriousness of this feeling in England — a feeling sharply condemned and opposed by English right-mindedness and common sense — have not been generally known here in America; and the mischievous effects of it in international affairs first fully evidenced themselves at The Hague last summer. Mr. Carnegie recognized the feeling and satirized it a year and a half ago, in a trenchant article entitled “The Cry of Wolf” (Nineteenth Century, August, 1906), which it would be salutary to have circulated in America, as well as in England itself, much more widely than has been done. The situation furnishes abundant material for a supplementary chapter to Cobden’s famous pamphlet on “The Three Panics.” One of the three panics described in that powerful work, it may be remembered, was the panic of 1853, when even more Englishmen than now fear a German invasion — including no less a person than Lord Palmerston, who, as Mr. Morley well says, “had a strong dash of honest stupidity in his composition ” — took it into their heads that they might wake up some morning to find that 50,000 Frenchmen had landed on the English shores during the previous night, with 100,000 more close behind them. One thinks too of the crazy fear of Russia which haunted England so persistently, and at which Gladstone, long after Cobden’s “Three Panics,” so often directed the shafts of his irony.

“One moment,” he once wrote, “we describe Russia with contempt as bankrupt; the next we enthrone her as omnipotent at Constantinople, and, having placed her there, we next gratuitously supply her, who cannot at sea even look Turkey in the face, with an unbounded store of fleets and armies, which she is at once to use, seemingly out of sheer depravity, in stopping the Suez Canal, while the fleets of England, France, Italy, and Austria are to look on in stupefied dismay.”

The scare in England during the last three years over the German “wolf” has been quite as ridiculous and sometimes as great as the panic of 1853 over France, or the panics over Russia which Gladstone had to face. It has been just as groundless as the 1853 scare, and it has been far more mischievous. No rational motive has been assigned for the apprehended German invasion. There is to be no provocation for it on England’s part; it is to be undertaken in the fullness of time, on general principles, in sheer wantonness, for the purpose of crippling England’s prosperity, spoiling her commerce, and seizing, it may be, some of her colonies, — precisely that is the nightmare. With no rational motive assigned for the proceeding, its practical impossibility and the disastrous results to Germany from its inevitable failure seem quite to be lost sight of by these troubled dreamers. The first necessary step would be a German naval victory over a sea power three times as great as her own; the second necessity would probably be the dealing at home with a French army of half a million men; the third, if things came so far, — and, with the present quickened sense of international justice, that stage would be reached almost instantly, in the case of wanton warfare assumed, — would be the dealing in English waters with the navy of the United States. Can any sane man believe that Germany, granted that her Kaiser or her junker class be as depraved as the theory demands, is — with a social democracy at home keen for the first auspicious chance to start a revolution and proclaim a republic — insane enough for a venture involving these things ? Yet nothing less than this is the notion which chiefly, certainly not solely, furnishes the soil, if not the nerve, for the present pitiful movement in England to augment the militia in immense degree, to fill the land with rifle clubs, to militarize the schools, and even turn parish houses and church basements into centres for target practice, — to do everything which alarmist brigadiers, fighting parsons, and titled ladies not a few can do to make all things pertaining to army and navy the fashion. “The Nation in Arms” — that is what these mischief-makers, “honestly stupid and genuinely panic-struck as be it conceded many of them are, would make of England. Precisely that is the title which they give their monthly journal, a journal spread broadcast in England and showing in the party behind it an adroitness, a persistence, and a free use of money which the children of light might themselves well emulate. It is a melancholy phenomenon to any lover of the true England — a regular output almost incredible, in the nervous fears, the unworthy suspicions, the tawdry ambitions and bad philosophy which it reveals, to one who remembers that it is addressed to a people who but yesterday listened to Tennyson and Browning and Bright and Gladstone. It were almost to be wished that it might be read in certain circles in this country, where a similar bacillus has begun to gnaw, for the sake of showing betimes the depths in which it is possible to fetch up when the gnawing gets fierce and has a “scare” in the background. One cannot but wonder whether a flame like that about Japan which our yellow journals and political adventurers have been fanning might not under favorable conditions attain such dimensions as to stimulate efforts to make our own republic a “nation in arms”!

But the chief mischief of this strained relation between England and Germany is that hinted at in the London dispatches noticed above, — the antagonism between the two nations on various lines revealed at the recent Hague Conference. This rivalry and friction were there obvious throughout; they were the subject of universal discussion; and it is not too much to say that they were the occasion of the chief failures of the blague Conference to do things which it ought to have done and which its great majority earnestly desired. Its actual achievements were certainly most important. The adoption of the Drago doctrine, to pass by the broader provisions, has relieved ourselves of half of our excuse for a large navy, this alone being worth a hundred times the whole cost and effort of the conference. For the failure of the two great proposals in behalf of the limitation of armaments and of the inviolability of ocean commerce in time of war, Germany and England are respectively responsible. It was Germany that prevented such serious consideration of the limitation of armaments as might point the way to hopeful action in the near future. It was England whose adherence to her traditional policy of seizing the private property at sea of peoples with whom she may be at war blocked the great advance in that field which else would have been so easily possible.

It is not of course implied that other nations do not practice this policy of preying upon commerce in time of war, as well as England. The practice is universal. But the other great powers are now in the main — we do not forget the puzzling position of France — united in readiness to give up the practice. If England would agree, this most barbarous of all usages, this still persisting in war, would come to an end. Without the agreement of this immensely preponderant naval power, reform is impossible. The scope of the reform is immeasurable. The chief respectable excuse and plea for the big navies to-day is that a nation’s navy is an insurance for its merchant marine; and England is entitled to a vastly larger navy than any other power because her commerce and commercial fleet are vastly larger. But once settle it by international decree that all private property at sea in time of war shall have immunity from capture, and half the legitimate function of a nation’s navy instantly disappears; the naval budget can at one stroke be cut down to that degree. This is precisely the argument of the present Lord Chancellor of England in his vigorous writings on the subject; for England is not without strong men who are laboring earnestly to make her respect this clear demand of our present civilization. The demand of civilization, these men say, and most men would suppose, is here in accord with England’s own interest; for with the greatest commerce of any nation, her exposure to danger and loss in ocean warfare is greatest. But the “ honestly stupid” Briton, to say nothing of others, believes that this danger is not so great as the advantage of the preponderant terror which his vastly preponderant navy exercises over other commercial nations which might attack him; he is willing to run the risk of the greater damage for the sake of the defense of the greater terror. Believing this, and waiving other considerations, he refuses to coöperate with the other great nations in banishing this worst of barbarisms and inaugurating a policy which might in a decade work a revolutionary reduction in the world’s naval burdens; and he will not see that so long as Britain champions the barbarism, so long Germany, inordinate and indefensible as her new programme is, will persist in building up a big navy, and that just in proportion to Germany’s commercial growth and commercial ambitions will be her chafing and discontent at the ratio of naval superiority which Britain arrogates as her right and posits in all discussions of proportionate armaments. That Britain is fairly entitled to a very great superiority, in view of her commerce and her situation as concerns food supply, no sensible German and nobody else would be likely to question; as no sensible person would question Germany’s present right to an exceptionally strong army.

I am not saying that Germany or America in England’s position would not act as England acts. But any nation actually holding the key to the naval situation, as England holds it to-day, would have paramount responsibility for progressive action; and the naval question, in this day of sea power, is the main question when we talk of military burdens and the military menace.

It is reason for gratulation that the United States, now with a large navy and a small merchant marine as a possible spoil in war, took earnestly the same position in this matter at The Hague which she took at the beginning of her national life, when she had almost no naval strength at all. It is a matter of historical interest that it was with Prussia that we concluded the first treaty in which this principle was ever embodied. This was at the instance of Benjamin Franklin, who was more emphatic in his condemnation of the barbarism of preying upon private vessels in war than any other statesman of his time; and the signing of this treaty with Frederick the Great was the last official act of Franklin in Europe, before his return in 1785. Germany and America, who coöperated at The Hague this year in the effort to make the principle universal in its operation, may well turn back with pride to this old treaty of amity and commerce and read its memorable twenty-third article, containing this clause: —

“All merchants and trading vessels employed in exchanging the products of different places, and thereby rendering the necessaries, conveniences, and comforts of human life more easy to be obtained, and more general, shall be allowed to pass free and unmolested.”

Washington wrote to Count de Rochambeau concerning this treaty as a whole, that it “marks a new era in negotiation, . . . should its principles be considered hereafter as the basis of connection between nations, it will operate more fully to produce a general pacification than any measure hitherto attempted amongst mankind.”

No less enlightened than the word of Washington at the time was the word of the English Lord Shelburne. Speaking of the treaty between England and France concluded shortly afterwards, he “regretted that Pitt in his French treaty had not gone further, and followed the example of the treaty which had been recently negotiated by Franklin between the United States and Prussia, under the terms of which even the merchant vessels of belligerents were exempt from capture.” One could wish that Lord Shelburne or the present Lord Chancellor had been on the British delegation at The Hague last year, with full powers. One could wash especially that the present Liberal Government had risen to its great opportunity and given such instructions to its delegates as would have guaranteed to the Hague Conference its greatest triumph and glory. The English premier must certainly be thanked for his high desires and purposes, backed by the noble resolutions of the House of Commons, touching the consideration at The Hague of the limitation of armaments. Had England had a Lord Pauncefote at The Hague last year, there is little doubt that he would tactfully have found some means to make this desire felt, to the extent at least of securing such discussion as would have had an educational value for the nations.

Our own position in this matter was as advanced as upon the question of the inviolability of commerce. Secretary Root’s strong utterance upon the subject on the eve of the conference will stand preeminently to his honor and that of the republic. Germany must bear the responsibility of thwarting the rational consideration of this imperative subject, as England must bear the responsibility of thwarting action to extend civilization to the seas. The responsibility in both cases is a grave one. And the point here emphasized is that the wrongs thus committed against the great cause of international order and progress were committed by these two nations with regard chiefly to each other. But for England, Germany would probably have been induced to discuss in some form the proportionate limitation of armaments. But for Germany, England would probably have agreed to modify her hoary old position as to commerce in war.

What is the first result of this blocking of action in behalf of the limitation of the world’s frightful naval burdens ? It is an immediate and startling expansion of the naval programme of both England and Germany, which is most likely to provoke, however great the folly of it, a corresponding expansion of our own programme. Last April President Roosevelt wote to the New York Peace Congress that our purpose was to add further new vessels to our navy only to take the place of old ones passing out of service. In his message to Congress in December, he says, “It was hoped the Hague Conference might deal with the question of the limitation of armaments,” expresses his disappointment at the failure of concerted action, and adds, “Such being the fact, it would be most unwise for us to stop the upbuilding of our navy. To build one battleship of the best and most advanced type a year would barely keep our fleet up to its present force. This is not enough. In my judgment, we should this year provide for four battleships.”

This means $40,000,000, with $20,000,000 more for extras.

Nothing can justify such a demand as this, and it is to be hoped Congress will deal with it with common sense. The one plausible pretext for it — nothing in the Japanese budget excuses it — is the action of England and Germany. England two years ago expressed her willingness to hold her programme for naval increase in abeyance, pending some possible action by the Hague Conference looking to the proportionate limitation of armaments. The Hague Conference took no action; and we are now witnessing the immense new activity of the British navy-yards, the pushing especially of large battleships of the Dreadnought class; within two years, we are told, Great Britain will have a fleet numbering a round dozen of these monsters.

What meantime is the news from Berlin ? That the Federal Council has submitted to the Reichstag a bill modifying the naval programme of 1900, reducing the service term for naval vessels from twenty-five to twenty years, — this shorter term is now a ridiculous over-estimate,— and increasing the size of battleships to the Dreadnought standard. The reduction of the service term means the building within twelve years of five battleships and one large cruiser more than were contemplated by the programme of 1900. Germany will by 1917 have seventeen Dreadnoughts. The new scheme will require $17,500,000 a year more than the German navy previously has cost. The borrowings of the empire since the inauguration of the programme of 1900 have already reached the total of $360, 000,000.

It is not surprising that Herr Bebel, in the discussion following the reading of the budget in the Reichstag, should declare it to be evident that a war is being planned by Germany upon Great Britain. It is not surprising that many here, and more in Europe, should believe, when our fleet was ordered to the Pacific, that it was meant for war with Japan. Most sane men refused to believe it, as they refuse to believe that Germany is planning war upon England; but in both cases great folly has been exhibited at a critical time, when there was peculiar need of soberness and restraint. The socialist leader declared that the German Navy League was agitating the war on Great Britain, and that this agitation could be observed on all sides. Nobody who knows Germany well will question this. The Navy League in Germany is composed of much the same elements as the similar body so pregnant with similar mischief in this country, and the organizations which are working to make England “a nation in arms.” There are almost as many people in Germany as in England and America who still chatter about “trade following the flag;” and a poor contingent of the junkers in the Prussian Herrenhaus, with sundry uneasy military folk, would like to see the flag make almost any audacious venture, to the tune of “ Deutschland über Alles,” quite regardless of trade considerations. The Navy League’s activities during the Emperor’s absence in England were worse than ever before, so extravagant indeed that many of its most eminent and respectable members resigned from the organization. In the very week of the Emperor’s return, the Berlin Tageblatt, the leading Berlin newspaper, advised all the moderate members to leave it. The League, it said, “has gradually become pernicious; it has been the source of the constant agitation which threatens to put Germany at enmity with the whole world and especially with England.” The League condemns the extravagant new naval programme as too small, as a violent faction in London similarly condemns the British Admiralty; and no one can say to what lengths these hotheads may temporarily push large sections of their peoples.

But are these wild naval folk the German nation ? Do they control the sober German thought or ultimate German policy ? Have they countenance from the best German statesmanship, or from the German Emperor ? As concerns England, the capital misfortune has been that the popular and perhaps dominant idea has long prevailed that they do exactly represent the Emperor. “The favorite English conception of the Kaiser,” said the leading liberal London journal, with but slight exaggeration, while the Kaiser was in England, “is that of a War Lord, with a stern face and fierce moustache, making bellicose speeches, in a uniform decorated with the death’s head and crossbones. The fact that he has never made war does not impress them.” In truth, with all his glorifications of monarchy and the army, the Kaiser’s speech at the Guildhall, like his similarly pacific word at Amsterdam on his way back to Berlin, was in strict accord with the whole tenor of his utterances concerning any such matter as that in which troubled Englishmen have held him under suspicion. What he said at the Guildhall he meant. He meant it when he said at Bremen two years ago, when unveiling a statue of the late Emperor Frederick, “When I came to the throne after my grandfather’s Titanic age, I swore a soldier’s oath that I would do my utmost to keep at rest the bayonet and the cannon.” He meant it when he said at Düsseldorf as far back as 1891, “I only wish that the peace of Europe lay in my hand; I should certainly take care that it never again is broken.” In one word, with all reservations for things in the German and especially the Prussian system which the democrat hates, — and the present crisis exhibiting anew the scandalous injustice in the suffrage makes his hate now very hot, — the German Emperor, as Andrew D. White and President Butler of Columbia and Professor Peabody of Harvard have been forcibly reminding us, is the ablest and most enlightened ruler in Christendom. If his recent visit to England serves in any degree, as happily it seems to be doing, to make Englishmen trust more securely that such a one does not easily lend himself to plots such as many have feared and suspected, something will have been accomplished towards bringing the two nations themselves into better accord.

It is for this end that the serious journals of the two nations are doing such praiseworthy and necessary work. The American press can do much for the world’s peace and order, much for England and Germany, by registering with power the judgment that, as another has said, “ there is a place for both nations in the sunshine,” and it is time for them to cease “making faces at each other.” I, for one, am no more a believer in any Pan-Teutondom than I am in an exclusive and arrogant Anglo-Saxondom; but it has come about that at this juncture the success of the policies which must chiefly determine international justice and progress depends preëminently upon the fraternity and hearty coöperation of England, Germany, and the United States. The Kaiser’s Guildhall utterance upon what constitutes “the main prop and base for the peace of the world ” should be expanded to just that form, Germany’s own recognition of the preëminent importance to her people of their increasing practical relations to the English-speaking world appears in the recent substitution of English for French as the required modern language in her high schools. There is not much danger that we in the United States shall ever again do long or serious injustice to England: the ties that bind us are too many. But, were it only for the reason that most of us read English newspapers ten times as much as we read German ones, there is danger that we may not do justice to Germany and may become victims of the malign talk about her being the chief disturber of the peace, and logically provoking “isolation,” and the other direful things. Germany becomes day by day our own more and more formidable commercial rival, as she is England’s; and it is always easy to do injustice to our rivals. It may sometime be as necessary for the United States as for England to consider that, if Germany crowds sharply in some of the markets, it is usually by means which are not proper occasions for resentment and pique, but for praise and imitation — by recognition of the fact discerned by the shrewd youth in the anatomy class, that “the brain is a very useful organ: it is useful to think with.” She has brought thorough education to bear on industry and trade, where many of the rest of us have stumbled on by rule of thumb; and in the very fields where the Englishman and the American have perhaps the greater fertility and originality, she has often distanced them by method and training. It is pleasant and most useful to see men like President Pritchett and Professor Hanus applauding her at this time for this superiority, and commending her methods to the American people.

It is not in industrial education alone, however, or chiefly, that we may learn from Germany, or that we are under obligation for high service rendered. From the time when Horace Mann published his report on the schools of Germany, in 1843, the German influence has been the strongest foreign influence upon our public school system; and for a far longer period, from the time, ninety years ago, when Everett and Ticknor and Cogswell and Bancroft went to study at Göttingen, to the present time, the German universities have been in a high degree our graduate schools. It fortifies one’s soul to know, when we hear of “strained relations,” real or possible, between America and Germany, or England and Germany, that among the things “made in Germany” which have most general currency in the Republic is the so great proportion of our best scholarship; that our American colleges and universities are filled with men in every field of thought and learning who, thronging to the German universities in these last decades, have come home to weave all over this broad land a web of such love and admiration and gratitude as, with that other web woven by the millions of our people who are bound to Germany by the close ties of race, shall surely suffice, in any time of folly or stress, to smite down the Philistines and maintain justice here toward the great land of Luther and Goethe and Kant.

The scholars whom Harvard and Yale and Columbia year by year are sending to Berlin, in that happy interchange of professors which was itself suggested by the German Emperor, will each and all be ambassadors of this fraternity. If Professor Kühnemann, who came from Germany a year ago to lecture at Harvard, and has been writing of his experience and impressions so warmly in the German periodicals since his return, is a fair representative, the Germans of the interchange will be similar ambassadors; and we shall not only learn lessons from Germany which we need, but Germany will be plainly told of many things American which she needs. Professor Kühnemann, going home from America, has plainly told her that the excessive assertion of the principle of authority and the absurd dictatorship so prevalent in Germany need to give place to larger freedom and individual initiative in education and in life.

In the summer of 1909, the University of Leipzig will celebrate the fifth centennial of its founding, and the University of Berlin its first centennial. Hundreds of American scholars will join with others in pious pilgrimage to the old halls to which they owe so much. It were to be wished that the commemoration might be marked by a GermanAmerican educational exposition at Leipzig, in which the two nations should submit to each other and the world representations of their best achievements in every field of education. In some hall of the exposition, day by day, the best educators of America and Germany and the world should exchange their wisdom. The best American message would have no more to do with the large freedom and individual initiative which Professor Kühnemann is commending in our education than with the inspiring new movement which is so rapidly enlisting our universities and our public-school system itself in the cause of peace and the better organization of the world. Old England’s scholars, like our own, will share in the great German commemorations in 1909; and the thinkers of England, Germany, and America should there unite in epoch-making speech and action in behalf of international justice and fraternity.