spectators could hardly after a
time distinguish whether the lines were still moving, or had come to a
standstill. The helmets and weapons of the soldiers were garlanded with
flowers and foliage, the horses' legs were twined with wreaths, and
their feet trod on a mass of trampled flowers and leaves. The strength
of the German army seemed to be decked and curled out of it; the lines
of marching soldiers had women's faces: here and there a man had a
patriotic admirer on his arm, who let it be seen that she had taken
possession of his weapon and carried it for him. The officers, as much
bedecked as their men, managed nevertheless to preserve their dignity.

The crowd was gradually becoming stupefied by the spectacle, throats
were sore with shouting and cheering, and the oppressive heat took the
freshness out of the people's enthusiasm. Once more, however, they
broke out again, just as when the emperor and his paladins appeared,
and this was when the French field-trophies were carried past.
Eighty-one standards and flags were there, from the battlefields of
Russia, Italy, and Mexico, soaked through with men's blood, gloriously
decomposed, torn, blackened with powder, and riddled with bullets. Now
the strong arms of German non-commissioned officers carried them in the
sultry heat of the midsummer afternoon, these miserable remnants
hanging heavy and limp without a flutter, without a spark of trembling
life in the silken folds; they looked like imprisoned kings, who with
heads bowed down, and despair in their eyes, walked in chains behind
the triumphant Roman chariots.

"Look," sad Dr. Schrotter to Wilhelm, when a short pause came in the
shouting, and in the rain of wreaths and flowers--"Look what makes the
deepest impression on the people, next to the great representative
figures. There is the symbol which you despised."

"What does that prove?" answered Wilhelm. "I never doubted that the
crowd was roused by appearances, and not by the reason of things. The
ideal results of victory one cannot see with one's eyes or applaud with
one's hands, but a dismantled banner one can."

"That does not explain everything. Atavism comes into it. The
inhabitants of towns in ancient times need to rejoice and cheer in the
same way when their victorious troops brought home the tutelary gods of
their enemies. It is the same idea, the same superstition, after an
interval of three thousand years."

"Yes, it is curious. I was thinking the wh