rman _Alexanderlied_ there is
an episode which most impressively brings out the impelling motive of
such titanic lives. On one of his expeditions Alexander penetrates
into the land of Scythian barbarians. These child-like people are so
contented with their simple, primitive existence that they beseech
Alexander to give them immortality. He answers that this is not in his
power. Surprised, they ask why, then, if he is only a mortal, he is
making such a stir in the world. Thereupon he answers: "The Supreme
Power has ordained us to carry out what is in us. The sea is given
over to the whirlwind to plough it up. As long as life lasts and I am
master of my senses, I must bring forth what is in me. What would life
be if all men in the world were like you?" These words might have been
spoken by Bismarck. Every word, every act of his public career, gives
us the impression of a man irresistibly driven on by some
overwhelming, mysterious power. He was not an ambitious schemer, like
Beaconsfield or Napoleon; he was not a moral enthusiast like Gladstone
or Cavour. If he had consulted his private tastes and inclinations, he
would never have wielded the destinies of an empire. Indeed, he often
rebelled against his task; again and again he tried to shake it off;
and the only thing which again and again brought him back to it was
the feeling, "I must; I cannot do otherwise." If ever there was a man
in whom Fate revealed its moral sovereignty, that man was Bismarck.

Whither has he gone now? Has he joined his compeers? Is he conversing
in ethereal regions with Alexander, Caesar, Frederick? Is he sweeping
over land and sea in the whirlwind and the thunder-cloud? Or may we
hope that he is still working out the task which, in spite of all the
imperiousness of his nature, was the essence of his earthly life--the
task of making the Germans a nation of true freemen?

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: From _Glimpses of Modern German Culture_. Permission
Dodd, Mead & Company, New York.]

* * * * *

THE LOVE LETTERS OF BISMARCK[2] TRANSLATED UNDER THE SUPERVISION OF
CHARLTON T. LEWIS

Hotel de Prusse, Stettin, (Not dated: Written about the end of
December, 1846.)

TO HERR VON PUTTKAMER:

_Most Honored Sir_.--I begin this communication by indicating its
content in the first sentence--it is a request for the highest thing
you can dispose of in this world, the hand of your daughter. I do not
conceal from m