feebly
protested. The egoism of which she was constantly accusing other
nations, ran riot in her own breast, was elevated into a political
virtue, and expressed itself on the spiritual side in a towering
racial vanity. The word "deutsch," always a word of magical
properties, became the synonym of an unapproachable superiority in
every walk of life[2]--a superiority that sanctified aggression and
made domination a duty. In many minds, no doubt, these sentiments wore
a decent mask; but the moment war broke out, the mask dropped off,
with the amazing results very imperfectly mirrored in the following
pages.

But self-worship and the craving for aggrandizement are in reality
very uninspiring emotions. The thing that has most deeply impressed me
in my searching of the German war-scriptures is the extraordinary
aridity of spirit that pervades them. A literature more unidea'd (to
use Johnson's word), more devoid of original thought, or grace, or
charm, or atmosphere, it would be hard to conceive. There are, of
course, some inequalities. One or two writers seem (to the foreign
reader) to have a certain dignity of style which is lacking in the
common herd. But in the very best there is little that gives one even
literary pleasure, and nothing that shows any depth of humanity, any
generous feeling, any openness of outlook. Even a happy phrase is so
rare that, when it does occur, one treasures it. I find, for instance,
in a little book by Friedrich Meinecke, a distinction between
"politics of ideas and politics of interests" that is happily put and
worth remembering. Again, Professor v. Harnack re-states the principle
that "he's the best cosmopolite who loves his native country best" in
a rather ingenious way: "There is no such thing as fruit," he says,
"there are only apples, pears, etc. If we want to be good fruit, we
must be a good apple or a good pear." These are small scintillations,
but the toiler through German pamphlet literature is truly grateful
for them.

For the rest, when you have read three or four of these pamphlets, you
have read all. The writers seem to be working a sort of Imperial
German treadmill, stepping dutifully from plank to plank of patriotic
dogma in a pre-arranged rotation. The topics are few and
ever-recurrent--"dieser uns aufgezwungene Krieg" (this war which has
been forced upon us), the glorious uprising of Germany at its
outbreak, the miracle of mobilization, the Russian knout, French
frivolity,