ly how German
barytes was ground. They had not found a barytes miner in England who
owned a microscope.... The English manufacturer did not believe in or
use the man of science.
"Mr. Tatlock, speaking from the laboratory glass apparatus makers' point
of view, said that British manufacturers were finding it exceedingly
difficult to replace German and Austrian products.... Professor
Henderson had referred to the possibility of people buying more readily
goods of British manufacture. They did not find that to be the case. The
goods had to be cheaper or better; they would certainly never be bought
purely because they were British, and he did not altogether think that
they should be bought for that reason."
It is surely clear that the only wise world policy is one in which each
nation brings its own particular contribution to the common stock and in
no way tries to shut others out.
THE POLICY OF BOYCOTTING THOUGHT.
We find it impossible to shut out German music. "Germany, it must be
said to its credit," I read in the daily Press, "is not boycotting
foreign art." In the autumn of 1915 the Royal Theatres of Berlin
announced Shakespeare's "Macbeth," and "Antony and Cleopatra," and
Scribe's "Glass of Water." "Shakespeare, one hears," writes a reviewer
in the _Daily News_, of December 4, 1915, "is still being played in the
German theatres. If you go to a theatre in London you are more likely to
see a performance with a title like 'I _don't_ Think!' or 'Pass the
Mustard, Please!' Shakespeare, to tell the truth, is in England left
largely to professors and schoolboys."
A silly crusade was started in this country against German thought in
general, a crusade so petty that it made some of us wince for shame. The
upholders of creeds joined in hastily, for German investigators had
given our beliefs many uncomfortable shocks. We remember how it came
about that the President of the Training College in Mark Rutherford's
Autobiography could with such satisfaction to himself destroy the
"infidel." "The President's task was all the easier because he knew
nothing of German literature; and, indeed, the word 'German' was a term
of reproach signifying something very awful, although nobody knew
exactly what it was." The obscurantist and opponent of free thought has
shown signs of hope that the German's reputation for awfulness may turn
us from his evil companionship into the restful paths of British piety.
The Englishman (especially,
|