Chapter IX: Part 9

What, however, is most striking is the number of cases of individual kindness shown by Germans to "alien enemies." The minds of many might be cleared on this subject if they would read a charming and unpretentious little book, "An English Girl's Adventures in Hostile Germany," by Mary Littlefair, published by John Long, Ltd. The authoress saw and heard absurd Press charges on the other side, and something, too, of the irrational hatred of war-time, but the little book is a record of almost nothing but kindness, and gives fresh hope to those who had begun to despair of human nature.[63] Here are two cases of singular beauty from Nauheim. A postman "happened to know of a poor English lady whose funds had come to an end, and who had in consequence offered to wash up the crockery at her pension in return for her board and lodging, and he told her one morning that he had forty pounds saved up which she should have, and welcome, if she was in need." The case of the bath-chair woman was not less touching and generous, for she and her husband, a crossing-sweeper, also put their savings at the disposal of an invalid lady his wife used to wheel out every day, telling her that, though their cottage was only small, they did possess a tiny spare room, and they would be so glad if she would come to them as their honoured guest, supposing--as at present seemed likely--the English would have to spend the winter in Nauheim; they would indeed do their best to make her happy and comfortable.[64]

On more than one occasion in the railway trains the "enemy" character of Miss Littlefair and those who were with her was revealed, but no unkindness was shown. The last occasion was in October, 1914. "'Shall you have to travel farther, or does your journey end in Munich,' 'No,' I said, 'we hope to go on to Switzerland to-morrow.' 'O, how delightful! You are lucky. It is such a beautiful country. Tell me, are you foreigners by any chance--American, or perhaps English?' she queried. 'English,' I replied. The truth was out, and I looked to see a change of feeling reflected in her pleasant, winsome face; but her expression remained as kind and as interested as before, and her manner as cordial, so I told her more about ourselves, as there was no longer any need of reserve, and she had told me so much of their affairs." There was, of course, the usual patriotic bias, but it was expressed with real good feeling. "'Of course, we don't hold the English people personally responsible for the war,' she said, 'but we think that England[65] has behaved very shabbily. It is very grieving, though, that the two countries should be at war.' She had two or three English friends, and told me about them till our arrival in Munich, where our confidences were necessarily cut short, and we took an affectionate leave of one another." (p. 123.)

The following incident also shows simple folk made clear-sighted by kindness of heart: "On another occasion Christine and one of the ladies in our hotel went into a shop to buy some beautiful lace which was being sold at half-price. 'We have to sell it cheaply because of the war,' explained the assistant: 'ach! it is terrible! We never wanted this war, and I am sure you did not either. You and I are not enemies, it is ridiculous. Let us shake hands to show we are friends. Yes!' And they did."[66] Good! That handshake, let us hope, will outweigh many a hysterical outburst on both sides.

An English schoolmaster was, with his wife and family, in Germany at the outbreak of war. He testifies to the quite wonderful kindness he received. Almost daily he was taken by his hosts to other houses, and at the _Kaffeeklatsch_ which ensued there was never anything but a finely chivalrous courtesy. So grateful did the schoolmaster feel that (just as with Germans befriended here) he felt he must make some sort of return to the "enemy." He explained the situation, and obtained permission to take two interned enemy nationals into his house. They in their turn felt that movement of gratitude which the preachers of hate refuse to believe in. They wanted to make some return to the schoolmaster, for schoolmasters are usually poor men. "If you do that," he said, "I shall feel I am doing nothing." There was a dispute of kindness, and in the end a _modus vivendi_ of gratitude was arrived at. How strange the methods of force seem by comparison. The two men are now interned once more--surely a sorry end to a story of such fine humanity.

From Mrs. K. Warmington: "There are two little instances that stand out in my mind very clearly, and I think speak for themselves. The first relates to an English lady, her husband, and her son, with whom I made acquaintance at the English Consul's office. Later on I met the same lady at the American Consul's office; she was in deep distress, as her husband and son had been arrested and put into prison. Through the influence of an American that we met at an hotel, we got a permit to go and see a military commandant at the barracks to see if anything could be done for them. When we arrived, he treated us most courteously, and listened patiently to what we had to say. He rang a doctor up on the telephone, and, as far as we could make out, told the doctor to examine these men, and to pronounce them ill. He then turned to us, and told us to return in the afternoon, when he would fetch them in his own motor-car, which he did. He also gave us a paper asking the civil authorities to do all they could to aid us to get away, shook hands, and wished us a safe journey.

"The other instance relates more to myself. We were at Nüremberg, Bavaria. We had permission to leave for Lindau, on the borders of Lake Constance, on our way to Romanshorn in Switzerland. The journey was a rather expensive one for me, as I had very little money, little more indeed than a cheque, which was valueless. A young German, who was shortly going into the Navy, whom I had known only about a month, hearing of my case came to me, and gave me £9 in English gold to enable me to travel more comfortably.

"My father was German, my mother English, and my husband English. I was in Germany in 1914 from July 26 to August 26. As my son was of military age, and I did not want him interned, I got what influence I could to get him away. He was finally released at the end of August, and we were allowed to go on to Switzerland."

In the course of 1915 an English born woman returned to her husband in Munich. Her sister wrote to me of the extreme kindness with which this lady was received by her German friends. Many English wives of interned men have gone to Germany to their husband's families, and one hears the same account of extreme kindness. In Offenbach alone there are twenty English wives with forty English born children. _Special classes have been opened for them._ After all, there are some German methods which are worthy of imitation. There seems at times a danger of our imitating what is _worst_ in our enemies, partly as a result of a desire to ignore what is better.

The letter which follows appeared in the _Times_ of September 2, 1914:

Sir,--Various rumours are finding their way into the German
papers respecting the harsh treatment which certain Germans are
said to have received in England. We British subjects who are
being kindly and hospitably treated by Germans earnestly hope
that these reports are, at any rate, much exaggerated.

It is well that the British public should understand the
position of their fellow countrymen here. At the outbreak of the
war British subjects in out-of-the-way places were given safe
conducts to suitable centres, such as Baden-Baden, and there
allowed to choose places of abode according to their tastes and
means. Such restrictions as are put upon their movements are in
their own interests. The authorities have exhorted the
inhabitants publicly as well as by house to house visitations to
treat foreigners with respect and courtesy, taking pride in thus
proving their claim to a truly high standard of civilisation,
and the people have responded nobly to this appeal. Not only
have hotel and pension-keepers done everything in their power to
accommodate their visitors, at the most reduced prices, giving
credit in many instances, but several cases have come to our
notice in which Germans have housed and fed English women and
children, who were perfect strangers to them, out of pure
humanity and good feeling.

You, sir, can imagine how galling it must be to these people
when they read in their papers of the very different treatment
alleged to have been shown to Germans in England, and how
painful and humiliating a position is thereby created for us
here. England has hitherto enjoyed such a high reputation for
chivalry and hospitality that tales to the contrary cause
Germans a half incredulous shock. It it not too late for
England to prove that she is living up to her old standard and
that she refuses to be outdone in magnanimity towards the
stranger within her gates....

(A paragraph follows as to the means by which money can be sent
to Britons _via_ neutral countries.)

(Signed) DOROTHY ACTON (Lady).
F. BULLOCK-WEBSTER, M.A., Oxon, Resident Chaplain of
Baden-Baden.
WM. MACINTOSH, Dr. Ph., Resident English Chaplain,
Freiburg, i.B.

Baden-Baden,
August 20, 1914.

Some account may be given of a party of 190 Englishwomen and 14 children who landed at Queenborough on September 22, 1914. (_Times_, September 23, 1914.) "... With one accord they spoke in terms of praise, both of their treatment in Germany and of the kindness shown to them on the journey.... 'We have received kindness everywhere,' said one of a party from Dantzig. 'The Germans have been absolutely stunning to us.... I have not heard of one English person being molested anywhere in Germany.'" The Englishwomen did noble work on their part, especially for the fugitives from East Prussia. "One Sunday we fed and clothed 290 who had come in without a rag to their backs."

"I was arrested in Berlin as a Russian spy, because a bomb had been found in the house next to mine, and because a woman in the street said that she had seen me putting bombs in my hat-box, and that she had seen me with a Russian. I did, as a matter of fact, know a Russian student, but he was not the man she meant. I was taken to the police station and searched twice in the same day. They kept me in prison for two days and nights, giving me very bad food, and then they released me because they had no real evidence against me. When I came out, strangely enough it was German people who gave me hospitality until I was able to leave Berlin."

Again, "The German women are crazy over our Scottish troops and their kilts. Some of them used to go out and give the prisoners cigarettes, chocolates and flowers, but that has been forbidden now."

A party of 178 who landed at Folkestone had varying stories to tell. "Nothing could possibly be better than the treatment we have received," said one, "everybody--official, police and public--treated us with the greatest kindness and the utmost courtesy." "The Germans are brutes, absolute brutes," said another. Probably a third, who described both statements as exaggerations, came nearer the average truth. One of this same party described the kilts referred to above as causing matronly indignation in Berlin.[67]

In the _Times_ of September 24, 1914, appeared a letter on the subject of English exiles in Berlin:

I have read with interest and approval the statements of
Englishwomen who have returned from Germany, as reported in the
_Times_ to-day, with regard to the conduct of the German people.
As one of the party which arrived at Queensborough by the
special boat, I wish publicly to express my warm appreciation
not only of the considerate treatment which the people of Berlin
showed towards English people there, but particularly to the
splendid services rendered to us by the American Embassy, which
made all the arrangements for our return, and by the Consular
and municipal authorities in Holland, who supplied us with food
during our journey through that country.

May I add that I went about in Berlin as freely as I can now in
London, and that at no time since the outbreak of the war have I
seen a single British subject molested.

(Signed) L. TYRWHITT DRAKE.

Ladies' Imperial Club,
September 23.

Here also is a fact that should give us pause. In a prisoner camp at Frankfurt a-Oder is a large building erected as a place of entertainment and general meeting hall. It is used by Russian prisoners, and _a considerable contribution towards its erection was collected by house-to-house visitation in Frankfurt._ To appreciate this fact at its true significance we must remember that Germany suffered from direct invasion by Russia immediately on the outbreak of the war, and that all the stories of atrocities and devastation that we heard of Belgium were also told of East Prussia.

"An old friend of our family," a correspondent writes, "has been residing in Bavaria over forty years. He is an artist, and married a Bavarian lady. His eldest son is a doctor in London, and two of his daughters are married in London, but the father has no difficulty in getting permits to paint in the Austrian and German mountains, and still finds a sale for his pictures in Germany."

Forty years is, I know, a long time, but not by any means always sufficient to prevent persecution in the present war. On my writing table is a little ivory elephant. It was carved by a German who had been forty years in the service of one British firm. He was dismissed (a man over seventy) because of the war. This is not a unique case. "N.S., clock-maker, who had been here thirty-nine years, and P.W., baker, fifty years. (He had two sons at the front, and 'the longer he thought the more the number of his English grandchildren grew.')" (See the Third Report of the Emergency Committee for these and other cases).

I do not in the least wish to suggest that there has been little kindness on this side and much on the other. I am simply trying to restore the balance. So far (as is usual in war-time) the game of hatred has been played with loaded dice. Let us welcome kindness everywhere. Here, then, is a different kind of story from one of the Friends' reports:

A young man, smart and erect three months ago when he was in
employment, intelligent, speaks and writes four languages, with
excellent references, now but a sad wreck, wants to go to South
Africa, where he has friends, but, alas! the permit is
refused--has written abroad to his father, who is in a good
position, for money, but it takes so long to get a reply. His
English landlady, though poor, "has been so kind," he had his
last dinner three days ago from her. We give temporary help, but
if this money does not come before January 1 he will have to go
into camp. Quite willing to do so, "but can we not give his poor
landlady something?"

The kind landladies and other kind hearts exist, thank God, on both sides.[68] To enquire on which side there are most would (even if we could do so without bias) probably be profitless. The important point is that the kind hearts on the other side are there, and that a brotherhood of blessing will help the world more than a brotherhood of revenge--if, indeed, this last could be any brotherhood at all.

Miss G. H. writes: "I am particularly anxious to do something for interned Germans. For four months of the war I was in Germany with my mother, sister, nephew and niece, and we were all most kindly treated and helped in every possible way both by friends, by my lawyer, my banker and the neighbouring peasants. Also by all the guards and waiters along our journey on November 21. Friends, peasants, and my lawyer are still looking after my property in Germany, and I have left everything in the hands of a neighbouring peasant, who sends me accounts of it. I would like to be able to do some kind acts here in return, and for the furtherance of better relationships later on." Yet it can never be pleasant to be in an "enemy" country. Miss H. writes further: "In spite of having such unspeakable sympathy, really understanding sympathy, shown me by not only friends, but the common people--though I hardly like using this term, as no one with so much fellow feeling could really be termed common--in spite of this kindness, I know so well how one can suffer. Over there _we_ are looked upon in the same way that Germans are looked upon here, as quite outside the pale of common morality. Fully realising what this must mean for me, these kindly Germans would go off into a day dream of wonderment as to how _they_ might feel in a similar plight, and one ended up with the reflection, 'Ja, es ist halt jetzt die Zeit der Märtyrer' (it is indeed the time of the martyrs once more)." Surely there is something strangely poignant about the convinced and steadfast martyrdom and self-sacrifice of both sides. Surely the peoples who can thus offer themselves in destroying each other must both have noble gifts to give together one day in a nobler cause.

The following is from the _Nation_ (Jan. 19, 1918):

A clergyman sends me the following. I think it best to publish
the story as it stands:--

"Some years before the outbreak of war there lived in a certain
German town, now frequently raided by air squadrons, an old
Englishwoman. She was a semi-invalid; difficult and
cantankerous. Subject to illusions, she imagined that the good
nuns, who received her as an unremunerative paying guest, were
in league against her mangy, but beloved dog. Yet both she and
her dog continued to receive the half-humorous tolerance of
their benefactors.

"Then came the 4th of August, 1914, and Miss X. passed into the
mists of war.

"A year later she emerged from the mists.

"A letter came, forwarded through a neutral in Switzerland; but
the letter was not from the pen of Miss X. It had been dictated.
Briefly, it said: 'I am bed-ridden and almost blind. I have
hardly anything to live upon; and the Germans will not let me
go.'

"Certain details were added which clearly established identity
to the recipient of the letter. There followed, on the same
sheet of paper, and in the same handwriting, a postscript: 'Sir,
I have taken this poor Englishwoman into my house. How can she
live on 10 marks a month?

Yours, Fräulein ...'

"Intervened the British Foreign Office and the American
Embassy. Then came another letter: 'Sir, your efforts have not
been in vain....

Fräulein ...'

"But that is not the end of this incident of war. 'Hate.' had
still its 'uses.'

"'Sir. I thank you for your good letter and your very kind
question. All is paid, hospital and funeral. There were 30 marks
left to have the grave a little arranged.

Fräulein ...'"

My correspondent adds the following comment: "I was an enemy,
and ye took me in."

In Vienna newspapers there were in 1915 many advertisements in which French, English, and Russian natives offer their services as teachers, thus:

London Lady (Diploma) gives lessons.--L. Balman, VI Bez.
Gumpendorferstrasse 5, Th. 14.

Frenchman and Frenchwoman give instruction in French.--VIII,
Lerchengasse 10.

An Irishwoman, brought up in England, gives lessons.--Letters to
Miss Morris.

Such advertisements, we learn from the _International Review_ of July, 1915, appear daily in Vienna.

From _Die Hilfe_, June 22, 1915: "in a weekly concert in Noyon the collaborators were Prof. Rivière, Sergeant Bonhoff, and Director Günzel. The performance of the Frenchman from an organ composition of his own was most effective." There are, of course, also exhibitions of narrow-mindedness. In Halle the police forbade a performance because one of those who took part was an "enemy alien." (_Vorwärts_, June 1, 1915.) On the other hand, when some Italian musicians complained of unjust dismissal, the court awarded them damages of 700 marks. The _Volksstimme_, of Frankfurt a.M., June 8, 1915, writing of Italy, deprecates any hatred of Italians. As soon as the responsible authorities had decided on war, obedience was the duty of each Italian citizen, just as of each German.[69] This outspoken deference to "responsible authority" is characteristically German, but the doctrine is here applied with great fairness. Some of our militarists apply it less fairly. And, alas, when the Italian _Avanti_ published an article "Against the Blunders of International Hate," the wisdom of the Censor caused it to be largely blanked out. The Censors seem to have strict orders to keep us hating each other.[70]

BROTHERHOOD AGAIN.

And yet--"We picked up scrappily the hint, however, that 'some of the Germans were all right.'" This from an article in the _Times_ on a homecomer from the front. With unconscious self-revelation the writer adds: "That somehow sounds depressing. One has heard the opposite." Just so, it is disconcerting and depressing to have it suggested that the enemy is a man very much like ourselves; it injures our feeling of superiority. We "confess" any favourable impression of him as if it were a fault of our own. A correspondent of the _Petit Parisien_ tells of the capture of a German officer of Hussars, near Arras. "I confess," he says, "that the impression he produced was rather favourable than otherwise." (_Daily Telegraph_, June 11, 1915.)

With others the confession is less reluctant.

There's one spot in Ploegsteert Wood that German shells ought
never to reach. It's a grave with a carefully made wooden cross
on it, and the lettering says:

"Here lie two gallant German officers."

"That's rather unexpected," said a civilian who was with us.

"But they were brave," said the major. "The Germans aren't
always so bad. Five officers from my regiment were missing one
time, and we never even expected to find their bodies. But when
we drove the Germans back we found a grave on which was marked:
'Here lie five brave English officers.' We identified them all,
and their bodies were taken back to England."

We followed another sidewalk and came to a huge mound covered
with yellow flowers, which had been planted by the English
soldiers. On a neatly made cross at the head of the mound an
English soldier had patiently printed the words: "Here lie
seventeen German soldiers."

There wasn't an English grave in Ploegsteert Wood that was
better tended or more heavily beflowered than these mounds of
fallen Germans.--Mr. W. G. SHEPHERD, Special Correspondent of
the United Press.

_Daily News_, June 1, 1915.

If all the episodes of this action were recorded they would make
a long as well as a grim narrative revealing the ghastliness,
the wild passion, the self-sacrifice, and the cool cunning of
such an hour or two of modern war.

Some of the tales of the men would have been incredible except
that I heard them from soldiers who told the truth that lives on
the lips of men who have seen very close into the face of death.

It is, for instance, difficult to believe--yet true--that amidst
all this tumult and terror of noise one German prisoner was
taken as he sat very calmly in his dug-out reading a book of
religious meditations through gold-rimmed spectacles. Perhaps it
was the man--I only guess--in whose pocket-book was found a
letter to his wife saying, "The position here is hellish, and
death is certain. I only pray that it may come soon."

_Daily Telegraph_, August 16, 1915.

From Belfort in September came the report: "A German aviator this morning flew over Belfort, dropping a wreath on the spot where Pégoud was killed. The following inscription was placed on the wreath: 'To Pégoud, who dies a hero. (Signed) His Adversary.'"

The following is from the _Daily News_ of October 9, 1915:

The parents of a Lance-Corporal in a Highland regiment who was
killed in the recent fighting have received particulars about
their son's death from a German lady in Frankfurt-on-Main.

The lady's eldest brother was killed last year near Ypres and
she knows, she says, how glad they were to receive any details
of his death. Another brother, who is an officer in the German
army, had written from the front, begging her to inform the dead
soldier's relatives of his fate.

In her letter the lady says: "Although we are enemies, pain and
mourning unite us. So thought my brother, too, for he wrote
everything about your son he could find out. I am sure my
brother and his comrades did all honour to their enemies."

The next extract is from the _Nation_ of November 13. 1915:

Soldiers are not reluctant to speak well of their foes. The
officer son of a friend of mine relates that beyond his line of
trenches is a German commemoration of a British advance in the
shape of a carefully wrought cross, bearing the inscription:
"Sacred to the memory of Lieutenants A---- and B---- of the
Staffordshire Regiment, who died like heroes."

From a private letter: "What impresses one most are the graveyards. All these are beautifully kept, all the graves have been cared for, and no distinction has been drawn between German, English, and French, who lie side by side. 'Hier ruht ein tapferer Engländer, gefallen im Luftkampf' (Here lies a brave Englishman, fallen in the air fight), etc., etc."

The _Daily News_ of March 10, 1919, has the following:

From a staff sergeant in Germany: "Here, in Germany, an English
officer with the 'flu was nursed by his landlady, who, when her
patient was better, succumbed to its ravages. Her daughter
caught it from the mother, and is now lying at death's door. But
merely 'Huns,' I suppose."

The roll of honour in the chapel at New College, Oxford, includes the names of three Germans, and the words of charity: _Pro patria--Memento fratres in Christo_.

THE WAY OF NEW RUSSIA.

In reprisals of good we may learn something from the new Russia. When the German prisoners were set to work Kerensky said, "Prisoners or not, they shall be paid at the same rate as other men," and they were. What was the result? Again the movement of gratitude, which is so potent a force, if only we would believe it. _The German prisoners presented half their wages to the Russian Red Cross._ I have to rely on private information for this.

THOUGHTS FROM THE OTHER SIDE.

The thoughts of the others are much like our own--that is the difficult truth we have to learn. It is a truth that is absolutely essential to any peace that is to be more than an armistice of fools.

The war has produced in the public opinion of the nations a
state of mind which formerly would not have been regarded as
possible in our age of internationalism and intellectuality.
National egotism and the effort to assert one's own national
interests by all and every means are dominating so exclusively
each belligerent group that it forms for itself a closed circle
of ideas, and under its influence conclusions are drawn which
are so contradictory that one is almost inclined to think that
logic and common sense have been entirely eliminated from the
thinking capacity of the warring nations....

We Germans, among the others, are subject to this
war-suggestion. We do not wish to say, after the manner of the
Pharisees, beating their breasts: "We thank Thee, Lord, that we
are not like these publicans." We know that we, too, are
prisoners of our circle of ideas, and must remain so, for we,
too, are ruled by our national egotism and by our desire to win
the war.--_Kölnische Zeitung_, as quoted by the _Daily News_,
September 3, 1915.

Ideas imprisoned, narrowed (beschränkt, as the Germans say), become putrescent through lack of free air. It is in this putrescence that the gospel of hate is bred. Here is a German officer's protest against the infamy of this gospel. It is quoted from the _Kölnische Zeitung_ by Mr. A. G. Gardiner in his book, "The War Lords":

Perhaps you will be so good as to assist, by the publication of
these lines, in freeing our troops from an evil which they feel
very strongly. I have on many occasions, when distributing among
the men the postal packets, observed among them postcards on
which the defeated French, English and Russians were derided in
a tasteless fashion. The impression made by these postcards on
our men is highly noteworthy. Scarcely anybody is pleased with
these postcards; on the contrary, every one expresses his
displeasure.

This is quite natural when one considers the position. We know
how victories are won. We also know by what tremendous
sacrifices they are obtained. We see with our own eyes the
unspeakable misery of the battlefield. We rejoice over our
victories, but our joy is damped by the recollection of the sad
pictures which we observe almost daily.

And our enemies have, in an overwhelming majority of cases,
truly not deserved to be derided in such a way. Had they not
fought bravely we should not have had to register such losses.

Insipid, therefore, as these postcards are in themselves, their
effect here on the battlefields, in face of our dead and
wounded, is only calculated to cause disgust. Such postcards are
as much out of place on the battlefield as a clown is at a
funeral. Perhaps these lines may prove instrumental in
decreasing the number of such postcards sent to our troops.

Personally, I believe this to express the soul of the real Germany and the soul of the real England. The soul of any people is the _best_ that is in it.

The following is from a lecture delivered by Prof. H. Gomperz in Vienna, early in 1915:

"Ladies and gentlemen, in our day all sorts of speakers and
writers feel called upon to preach to us the doctrine of hate,
in prose and even in verse, more especially against one of the
countries opposing us. I do them the honour of assuming that
even they do not mean that we are to translate this feeling into
action; rather, even they do not dream of doing the slightest
harm to any individual Englishman in so far as it is not
necessary or inevitable for the purposes of victory. What then
does this preaching of hatred mean, if indeed it means anything
at all, and is not the mere empty clamour of some people anxious
to attract attention without rendering useful service? Do they
mean us to nurse and cherish the feeling of hate? Truly a
strange demand after nearly two thousand years of training in
the teaching of the gospel! And besides, whom are we to hate?
The individual doing his duty in the service of his country,
just as we are? Or the responsible governors of the destinies of
that country, and the irresponsible leaders of its public
opinion?" Hatred of the individual serving his country and
governed by others Prof. Gomperz does not stop to discuss. It
can obviously be the product only of what with etymological
correctness we may term _insanity_. The governors and leaders
imagined an irreconcilable antagonism. If they were right their
case is justified; if they are wrong we must no more hate them
than we should hate a patient suffering temporarily from
delusion.--_International Review_, August, 1915.

Magnus Schwantje spoke very plainly at a meeting of the Schopenhauer Society at Düsseldorf in June, 1915. He allows that the state has a right to wage a war of defence, but _not to force anyone to serve in the army_. Schopenhauer, he tells us, "esteems sympathy with all that lives and suffers more highly than love for the Fatherland.... During a war a noble man desires such an issue as may be most beneficial to the whole world.... With all our readiness to recognise the merit of patriotic self-denial, we, the admirers of Schopenhauer, have to warn our compatriots, especially during a war, of the danger of patriotism degenerating into injustice, or even hatred and malicious joy at the misfortune of other nations.... Not one of the European peoples can be suppressed without heavy loss to the whole world, and not one has the right to force its special character on the others." (_International Review_, September, 1915.)

WAR LITERATURE.

It is the elderly gentlemen on both sides who exude vitriol. It is a pity that they are so much in evidence. But even some of them retain their sanity. The following is from the _Cambridge Magazine_ of May 15, 1915:

Those who, at the beginning of the war, were induced by the
Press to wonder whether any elderly German professor had
retained his mental equilibrium will now be disposed to wonder
whether the proportion of serious cases is after all larger
there than here. At any rate the Schopenhauer Society is a very
important learned body, and Prof. Deussen, of Kiel, is one of
the most distinguished of German scholars. And this is how he
writes in the fourth year book of the Schopenhauer
Society--apparently in terms of contempt for a loquacious
minority (the translation is taken from the April number of the
_Open Court_, and the italics are ours, especially the
concluding shot at the Lady Patriot):

"'Not to my contemporaries,' says Schopenhauer, 'not to my
countrymen, but to humanity do I commit my work which is now
completed, in the confidence that it will not be without value
to the race. Science, and more than every other science,
philosophy is international.' ... Foolish, very foolish,
therefore is the conduct of _certain German professors_ who have
renounced their foreign honours and titles. And what shall we
say of a member of our society who demanded that citizens of
those states which are at war with us should be excluded from
the Schopenhauer Society, and who, when it was pointed out that
our foreign members certainly condemned this infamous war as
much as we Germans, protested that she could not belong to an
association in which Frenchmen, Englishmen and Russians took
part, and announced her withdrawal from our society, indeed,
even published her brave resolution in the columns of a local
paper in her provincial town. _We shall not shed any tears_ for
her having gone."[71]

Romain Rolland bears out the idea that "in all countries the extremest views have been expressed by writers already past middle age." So it is in Germany, Rolland tells us. Dehmel, the enemy of war, has enlisted at 51; Gerhart Hauptmann, "the poet of brotherly love," cries out for slaughter. But Fritz von Unruh has, from the battlefield, written "Das Lamm": "Lamb of God, I have seen Thy look of suffering; lead us back to the heaven of love." Rudolf Leonhard, who was caught up in the storm, wrote afterwards on the front page of his poems: "These were written during the madness of the first weeks. That madness has spent itself, and only our strength is left. We shall again win control over ourselves and love one another."

"Menschen in Not ...
Brüder dir tot ...
Krieg ist im Land ..."

No "glory" of war is in these simple, poignant words of Ludwig Marck--simply a dire evil that we have not the sanity to avoid. "Whether you gaze trembling into the eyes of the beloved, or mark down your enemy with pitiless glance, think of the eye that will grow dim, of the failing breath, the parched lips and clenched hands, the final solitude, and the brow that grows moist in the last pangs.... Be kind.... Tenderness is wisdom. Kindness is reason.... We are strangers all upon this earth, and die but to be reunited." Thus Franz Werfel. Since these words cannot be called barbaric, they will perhaps be called sentimental. It is true that to those of us who have loved our comrades, of whatever nation, the sentiment of brotherhood does just now make a somewhat tragic appeal. If that appeal, in these days of decimated ideals, be at times strained and feverish, it scarcely lies in the mouths of the apostles of hate to deride us. The sentimentality of hatred is uglier and more fatuous than the sentimentality of brotherhood.

Hermann Hesse is living at Berne. He has implored the writers of all nations not to join with their pens in destroying the future of Europe. From a poem of later date come these words: "All possessed it, but no one prized it. Like a cool spring it has refreshed us all. What a sound the word peace has for us now. Distant it sounds, and fearful, and heavy with tears. No one knows or can name the day for which all sigh with such longing."

Do not let us forget that almost everything that is most militarist is _old_. It is only the old who affect still to glory in war--the old newspapers, the old reviews, the old statesmen, and some, perhaps, of the old soldiers--it is to what is newest, youngest, most creative, most living that we look not in vain for an unshaken belief in brotherhood, for a clear acknowledgment that any other belief would throw us back into the ape and tiger struggle of world beginnings, but with the ape ten thousand times more cunning and the tiger ten thousand times more cruel. To some German publications the war is a stupid eruption of barbarism into a workshop where work was being done. _Die Aktion_ scoffs mercilessly at the Chauvinists and at Lissauer with his Hymn of Hate.[72] Even Lissauer, be it remarked, has published his repentance, and, personally, I respect him for it. The man who can say that he spoke too strongly is always worth knowing. The man who insists elaborately on his consistency (as the politicians do) is usually singularly devoid of any appreciation of truth. _Die Aktion_ (1915) goes on steadily with its appreciation of French artists, as if no war were in progress. There may be some affectation in this attitude, but it is to be preferred, I think, to the complete ostracism of work of the enemy called for by a noisy but, I believe, small section on this side. _Die Weissen Blätter_ appeared in January, 1915, with the following announcement:

It seems good to us to begin the work of reconstruction in the
midst of the war. The community of Europe is at present
apparently destroyed. Is it not the duty of all of us who are
not bearing arms to live from to-day onwards according to the
dictates of our conscience, as it will be the duty of every
German when once the war is over?

Evidently the editor has in his mind a contrast between the dictates of conscience and the dictates of officialism. He was born in Alsace, so he may well know this contrast. We are learning it here. In the February number the _Krieg mit dem Maul_ (war with the mouth) was most vigorously condemned:

If journalists hope to inspire courage by insulting the enemy,
they are mistaken--we refuse such stimulants. We dare to
maintain our opinion that the humblest volunteer of the enemy,
who, from an unreasoned but exalted sentiment of patriotism,
fires upon us from an ambush, knowing well what he risks, is
much superior to those journalists who profit by the public
feeling of the day, and under cover of high-sounding words of
patriotism do not fight the enemy, but spit on him.

I am reminded of words used by one of my Swiss friends: "As soon as soldiers must get their fighting force from suggestions of puerile besmirching of the enemy, then war indeed becomes intolerably base."

Annette Kolb, daughter of a German father and a French mother, had the courage to proclaim openly in a public lecture at Dresden that _she was faithful to both sides_, and to express her regret that Germany should fail to understand France. After all, German intolerance must have its limits for such a bold speech to be possible.

Wilhelm Herzog in the Munich _Forum_ has attacked the intellectual fire-eaters, the patriots who insult other peoples and the Chauvinists generally. He defends France, the French army and French civilisation, against the brilliant novelist, Thomas Mann. Above all does he condemn the intellectual babble: "The wrong that these privy councillors and professors have done us with their 'Aufklärungsarbeit' can hardly be measured. They have isolated themselves from humanity by their inability to realise the feelings of others."

Mr. Lowes Dickinson has called attention in the _Hibbert_ of October, 1915, to a pamphlet by Dr. Friedrich Wilhelm Förster, entitled "Deutschlands Jugend und der Weltkrieg." The same pamphlet is quoted in _The Ethical Movement_ of the same date. Here are some extracts:

"Hate disorganises, love disciplines. Fill yourselves with
deepest sympathy for all who suffer in war, whose hearts are
crushed, whose bodies are broken, whose homes are burned ...
and win a peace which shall make the recurrence of such things
for ever impossible. Such a purification from the passion of
hate is often easier on the field than at home. Those who remain
behind have an abstract enemy in view. The soldier sees living
men who suffer and die like himself." It will startle the
English reader to find Dr. Förster pleading earnestly that the
English soldier is not responsible for the ways of his
government or of his leaders. The Germans are to remain true to
themselves whatever the others may do. Each side, observe,
accuses the other of barbarous methods, and impartiality is
impossible. The most that one can expect of the ardent partisan
is perhaps that he should, like Dr. Förster, urge those on his
side to remain true to their ideals, whatever the enemy may do.
"England has given us also the Salvation Army, and invaluable
higher points of view for the treatment of Labour questions and
social work. She has taught our revolutionary spirits and
moderated our party passions. Let us always remember this, and
in that remembrance grasp again in the future the proffered
hand." For Dr. Förster it is for this better England that
Germany now fights, just as for many an Englishman it is for the
better Germany that England is fighting. "And it is better for
us to fight for that better England than to rage and spit upon
... Grey and his followers. In sleepless nights kindle the
eternal light of Christ in your souls and try to love your
enemies. Think of that great William Booth and of all the
English greatness and goodness embodied in him; of Florence
Nightingale, the heroine and saint, whose pioneer work is still
binding up to-day unnumbered wounds; and think of Carlyle,
Ruskin, and Toynbee and of those mighty forces of conscience
which spoke in their words and gave to us Germans, and will give
us yet, so much that is great."

Again:

"Christ stands against war and above war. He who loses sight of
this truth slays that deep conscience of civilisation which is
meant to goad us unceasingly on to allay this fury of war. We
know well that if we were Christians there would be no war."
Förster denounces the bawling haters "who must open their mouths
42 centimetres wide," and think that he who does not do it is no
patriot.

"To conquer and silence them must be your first task, young men
of the new Germany; you who have been purified by sacrifice and
suffering. For what would it profit our people if it gained the
whole world and lost its own soul?" May we not, _mutatis
mutandis_, take this appeal to heart ourselves?

Again:

"The essence and foundation of the State is precisely the
opposite of power, viz., law, treaty, fellowship between opposed
interests, and the whole outer strength of a State rests upon
the depth and firmness of these, its inner conditions and links.
Therefore the first commandment of life for the State is not to
create for itself might but to care for the ethical unity of its
members, for the supremacy of the conscience and the sense of
law above rude self-interest."--(Quoted in the _Ethical
Movement_, October, 1915.)

Granted that voices such as those of Herzog, Förster, Schücking, Schwantje are a minority, it is yet plain that they represent more than themselves. The existence of such reviews and utterances implies the existence of at least many thousands who have not been deluded by their governors. Of those who have been deluded into enmity, but who have never dreamed of world dominance, there are, I am convinced, many millions. Bernhardi was introduced to Germany by England. There were four million Social Democrats. They have defended their country, but they have never dreamed of aggression. The time will come to claim the help of these men and the many others of the wiser Germany. That wiser Germany will yet live to be, not an army of destruction, but an army of progress.

Henrietta Thomas, of Baltimore, Maryland, went early in 1915 with a message of fellowship from English people to German people. There was some surprise, some tendency to view the message as Utopian, but always a cordial acknowledgment and a real goodwill. Dr. Siegmund Schulze was most heartily in sympathy. "He feels that the ultimate hope of peace lies in the increasing use of arbitration." "One very sweet-spirited elderly gentleman in Berlin said that when he prayed things looked different--he seemed to see things through God's eyes--but as a man he had to fight." "At Stuttgart and Frankfurt I found the peace people more thoroughgoing in their sentiments." The secretary of the Stuttgart Peace Society said: "The armed peace of Europe is an exploded idea. As long as we have armies we shall use them. We must educate the people to realise this, and to work for disarmament."

_Lichtstrahlen_ was originally founded as an independent monthly periodical by a Socialist, Julian Borchardt. The periodical was unofficial and had a difficult struggle for existence. This was before the war. When the war broke out the editor took as strong a line against it as the censor allowed. The circulation rose so much that Borchardt was able to convert the monthly into a weekly. Rosa Luxembourg and Frank Mehring, greatly daring, started the _Internationale_ with the object of rebuilding the International Labour and Socialist movement during the war. The review was instantly suppressed, but was reprinted afterwards at Berne. Among the contributors is the well-known Clara Zetkin. She refers enthusiastically to the Christmas message sent by British women to the women of Germany and other belligerent countries. (_Labour Leader_, June 17, 1915.) Marie Engelmann, of Dresden, has protested with equal strength.

FROM AN AMERICAN LADY.

The following is an extract from a valuable letter by Madeline G. Doty, an American, which appeared in the _Nation_ of June 12, 1915:

My most revolutionary talk was with a gray-haired mother of
grown children, in a secluded corner of a quiet restaurant. A
burning flame this woman. Her face stamped with world suffering,
her eyes the tragic eyes of a Jane Addams. In a whisper she
uttered the great heresy: 'German salvation lies in Germany's
defeat. If Germany wins when so many of her progressive young
men have been slain, the people will be utterly crushed in the
grip of the mailed fist.'

With this companion I discussed the collapse of the Social
Democrats in the hour of crisis, the triumph of nationalism
over internationalism. She attributes it to military training.
During the period of service a man becomes a thing.
Automatically, he acquires habits of obedience, is reduced to an
unquestioning machine. Mechanically, when the call came, the
Social Democrats, with the others, fell into line. But with time
has come thought. Also knowledge--knowledge that, in the first
instance, Germany's war was not one of self-defence. But it is
too late to rebel. Most of the Social Democrats are at the
front. From month to month they have put off protest as unwise.
Only Liebknecht has made himself heard. Now he has been caught
up in the iron hand, and sent to battle. But women are not bound
by the spell of militarism. While the Government rejoiced at the
submission of its Socialist men, the women grew active.
Organising a party of their own, they fought bravely. Last fall
Rosa Luxembourg dashed into the street and addressed a regiment
of soldiers. 'Don't go to war, don't shoot your brothers,' she
cried. For this offence she was sent to prison for a year.
To-day she lies in solitary confinement. But her suffering only
inspires the others. In March 750 women walked to the Reichstag.
At the entrance they halted. As the members entered they
shouted, 'We will have no more war; we will have peace.' Quickly
the police dispersed them, and the order went forth that no
newspaper should print one word of the protest. Still the women
work on. On April 8, an International Socialist Woman's Congress
was held at Berne, Switzerland. Ten nations were represented,
including all the belligerents.

The task of peace propaganda in Germany is gigantic. Neither by
letter nor by Press can news be spread. Both are censored. The
work must be carried on by spoken word passed from mouth to
mouth. The courage of the little band of women I had met was
stupendous. Through them I learned to love Germany. So my life
in Berlin became a double one. I ate and slept, and was
unregenerate in one part of the town, and only really lived when
I escaped from respectability and, strange contradiction of
terms, became a criminal fighting for peace.

But wherever I was, one fact grew omnipresent. Germany was
magnificently organised. Here lay the country's power and her
weakness. Her power because it made Germany a unit. There were
no weak links in the chain. Her weakness, because it robbed her
people of individuality, made them cogs in a machine.

"Germany no longer cares whom she hurts," runs another passage in this letter; "like an unloved child at bay she means, to smash and kill. The pity of it! Never was there a more generous, soft-hearted, kindly people. Germany, the land of the Christmas tree and folk songs, and hearthsides and gay childish laughter, turned into a relentless fighting machine! But each individual is a cog firmly fixed in the machine, which will go ever on as long as the ruling power turns the crank."[73]

TWO SOLDIERS' LETTERS.

"If I were not firmly convinced that even this war will help to establish the Kingdom of God I could hardly endure it. But I believe that after passing through this hell humanity will come to itself and learn to believe in the reign of human brotherhood.... I cannot tell you the moral suffering I go through. These butcheries are utter madness. I cannot forget for a moment that our enemies are men, and consequently our brothers." So wrote a young German soldier student quoted by Mr. Jerome K. Jerome.