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GERMANY. 
 
 PRESENT AND PAST 
 
 BY 
 
 S. BARHSTG- GOULD, M.A. 
 
 i) 
 
 Author of " Curious Myths of the Middle Ages" " Legends of the Patriarch* 
 
 and Prophets," etc. 
 
 Kat 7"a re 7raAata Kaivws &ie\9elv, kcu 7T€pi twv retocrri ytyewqixevuii' 
 apxaCux; eiirelv — Isocrates, Panegyricus, §8. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 HEfttY HOLT AXD COMPANY 
 
 1882 
 

 U-f/^y 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTES ?AGI 
 
 I. The Upper Nobility ... ,„. ,„ ... ... 1 
 
 II. The Lower Nobility ,.« „,. ,,, „, 26 
 
 III. The Laws of Succession ... .... ... Ml ... 47 
 
 IV. Peasant Proprietors ... ... ... ,., ... 71 
 
 V. Marriage ... ... ... ... ... , (i ... 96 
 
 VI. Women ... ... „. ... ... ... 127 
 
 VII. Education ... .„ „. ... ... ... 175 
 
 VIII. The Army ... ... ... ... ... ... 201 
 
 IX. The Stage ... ... ... ... ... ... 243 
 
 X. The Kulturkam pp ... „, M . ... ... 294 
 
 XL Protestantism ... ... ,.. ... ... ... 33;"> 
 
 XII. The Labour Question ... ... ... ... ... 376 
 
 XIII. Social Democracy ... ... ... , ... ... ... 400 
 
 XIV. Culture ... ... ... ... ... ... 43S 
 
 Appendix .. ... ... ... ... ... ... 479 
 
 Index ... ... ... .., ... ... 487 
 
GERMANY, PRESENT AND PAST. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE OTPER NOBILITY. 
 
 "There are but two families in the world, as my grandmother used to sny : 
 the Haves and the Havenots, and she always stuck to the former." — Bon 
 Quixote. , 
 
 " Herr Baron ! Thank j'ou," said a waiter to a traveller, on 
 receiving payment of the bill. 
 
 " I am not a baron, mem lieber /" remarked the latter. 
 
 " Oh, sir ! we call every one Baron who tips with a ha'penny," 
 answered the Kellner, contemptuously pocketing the five-pfennig 
 piece. 
 
 An Englishman is somewhat impatient to find barons abroad 
 as thick as blackberries, and looking equally ragged. He is not a 
 little amazed to find he has offended his tailor by not. addressing 
 him as " Well-born," and startled to hear that a daughter of one of 
 our oldest and noblest families is not deemed well-born enough to 
 mate with a lack-land German prince, whose ancestors a hundred 
 and fifty years ago were gentlemen about court, and nothing more. 
 A tradesman is " well-born," but the daughter of an Anglo- 
 Norman house, who marries the sixth son of Prince Potztansend, 
 is doomed to bear her maiden name, and know that out of England 
 the union is regarded as morganatic, and her childien as illegiti- 
 mate. 
 
 Germans, like Frenchmen, are quite incapable of understanding 
 English aristocratic distinctions. I have known a lady refuse to 
 
 B 
 
Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 allow her daughter to danco with sons of some of our first county 
 families, and heira to baronetcies, because they bore no "von" 
 before their surnames, and therefore could be no gentlemen. In a 
 drama of one of the best German playwrights, laid in England, an 
 "esqnir" («c) is addressed as "milord," an earl's wife is entitled 
 •• Lady Harriot," and the eldest son of a peer is Sir Jones, 
 Baronet. Englishmen too often speak with contempt of the 
 German nobility, because titles are common and the majority 
 of the bearers of them have no estates. As a fact the majority of 
 nobles without estates have flowing in their veins the bluest blood 
 in Germany, whereas some of the princes, who can only mate with 
 royalty, are mere parvenus. The stratification of the German 
 classes, and of the aristocracy, is most peculiar, and quite unlike 
 what wo meet with in England. It is absolutely inexplicable 
 without an historic sketch of its growth and alteration. 
 
 AY hen the mist clears off early German history, we find the 
 inhabitants of the land divided into two strongly marked classes, 
 the Free and the Not-Free. 
 
 The not-free class constituted most certainly a conquered people, 
 distinct in blood from the Germans who subjugated them. The 
 conquered race remained bound to the soil, and were denied the 
 rio-ht of hearing arms, and pleading in a court. They were like 
 the Eayas in Turkey. They were neither " wehrfiihig " nor 
 " rechtsfahig." The serf tilled the soil, the freeman held juris- 
 diction over it, and fought in its defence. Between the classes 
 hovered a swarm of Lazzi or Freilazzi (i.e. Frei-gelassene), men 
 emancipated from serfdom, that they might become " wehrfiihig," 
 capable of wielding a sword, and fight for their lords. But it took 
 three descents to convert a Lazzus into a Freeman. 
 
 One sharp law kept the classes apart as castes — this was the 
 law of " Ebenburtigkeit," which forbade a freeman marrying below 
 his class. If he did so, both he and his. children ceased to be free, 
 and were numbered among serfs. The freewoman who married a 
 serf became herself a serf. This gave occasion to a common 
 speculation in the early Middle Ages, which had to be checked 
 by law. Nobles sent their serfs out into the world to pretend to 
 be freemen, and so to pick up free wives. Then the lord asserted his 
 prerogative, and the deluded wife found herself suddenly degraded. 
 Among the Saxons the serf who acted thus was punished with 
 
The Upper Nobility. 3 
 
 death. The object of the law of " Ebenbiirtigkeit " was to keep 
 Teutonic blood pure from various and villein strains. 
 
 Salic law, and the law of the Eipuarian Franks, knew nothing 
 of a nobility. Only two birth ranks were recognised — the free 
 and the not- free. Nobility and freedom were equivalent ideas. 
 All free-born were " ebenbiirtig." 
 
 But though in the Frank empire there was no privileged class 
 among freemen, there were personal privileges enjoyed by a 
 favoured few. These were the men who stood in close relation to 
 the king, and acted as his officers in the administration of justice. 
 These officers were noble, in so far that they were raised above 
 their fellow- freemen, but this ministerial nobility lacked the 
 essential element of aristocracy — it was personal, not hereditary. 
 These officers, whether temporal or spiritual, held their nobility 
 for life only. Such were the bishops, chief abbots, dukes and 
 counts, the royal butler, sewer, forester, and marshal. The great 
 bulk of freemen lived on their estates, and let them out to free 
 or servile farmers. As enjoying freeholds, they were entitled 
 Freiherren — free lords — or Barons. Bar is an old German word 
 meaning a man, that is a man of substance, exercising all the rights 
 of a freeman. 1 The holder of an allodial estate was an adeliffer, 
 a gentleman. If he lost his estate he ceased to be an adeliger, but 
 not to be a freeman. But I am not now going to speak of the 
 landed gentry who constituted the lower nobility, but of the royal 
 officers who have formed themselves into a superior caste. 
 
 The Empire under the Carlovingians was this. The whole 
 country was parcelled into shires. A shire (gau) usually took its 
 name from the river that flowed through it, or from the conspicuous 
 object in it ; as a frontier it was called a mark. Over every 
 " gau " and " mark " was a count — " graf." Over the royal stable 
 was a Stallgraff (constable or marshal). Over the crown land, a 
 steward called Pfalzgraf or Count Palatine, held rule. The 
 Grenzgrafen or Markgrafen (margraves) kept the frontiers against 
 Sclavonic barbarians. The Burgraves held the royal casths; 
 Woodgraves, Saltgraves, Dykegraves, Millgraves, and Hansgraves, 
 saw after Imperial rights in later times in forests and salt mines ; 
 looked to the condition of the mills, canals, and the trade of the 
 
 1 Lex Allenian. c. 76, " barum aut fcerainam," man or woman. It is no doubt 
 from the same root as vir in Latin. 
 
4 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 Haneeatic towns. There was even a Spiclgraf, with jurisdiction 
 
 over tlic tumblers, jugglers, minstrels and clowns of the royal 
 household. 
 
 A Graf was a minister of the king, and on his death his office 
 and title were given by the crown to another favourite. The title 
 is derived from gerefa, judex, exactor fiscalis; and it retains in 
 England some of its old significance as applied to the sheriff of the 
 county (scire-gerefa) and the poitreve (port-gerefa). Among the 
 ancient Germans a duke — " Herzog" — was the general in command 
 in time of war, and with the cessation of war his office and title 
 expired. Dukes, however, soon retained their titles, and remained 
 as permanent centres round whom the country could be mobilised. 
 ^ hen, as with the Alamanni and the Bavarians, they ruled over 
 distinct races, the rank of duke became hereditary in a family, and 
 with the break-up of the empire the dukes became independent. It 
 was by crushing the dukes that, the Carlovingian monarchy was 
 founded. Under Charles the Great there were none ; but with the 
 fall of the Empire they reappeared, the holders of several counties 
 and possessors of large estates. Conrad I. endeavoured to 
 reduce them. Henry I. issued from their midst, and thenceforth 
 their position was recognised. There were dukes in Saxony, 
 Franconia, Bavaria, Austria, Swabia, and Lorraine. The kings 
 used their utmost endeavours to bring the duchies into their own 
 families. The Bavarian alone maintained its independence and 
 integrity till the thirteenth century, when it fell a prey to 
 division. At the same time the Sclavonic princes assumed the 
 ducal title, fresh duchies were created, and the ducal office became 
 titular, nothing more. 
 
 But to return to the Counts. The office of count was, as 
 already said, given for life only. But as, on the death of a 
 count, the transfer of the office to another family caused jealousy 
 and discontent, it was soon found advisable to make these offices 
 hereditary. With the office went ver-r "enerally crown lands given 
 in feof. These were also continued now in a family, and became 
 hereditary like the office, by tail male. Even in the last days of 
 the Frank monarchy there was no hereditary nobility in Germany, 
 other than that of the Frciherren ; but the germ of a court 
 aristocracy was laid, which from generation to generation received 
 from the crown great benefices, and appropriated the most lucrative 
 
The Upper Nobility. 5 
 
 offices in the realm. This " Beamten " aristocracy was, no doubt, 
 in part recruited from the landed gentry, the Free-lords seated on 
 their allodial estates, hut far more from the flunkies of court 
 favour, emancipated serfs, and all the rabble who hang about a 
 court. 
 
 As soon as these benefices and offices became hereditary, the 
 division between the nobility and the gentry was completed. 
 Every crown officer had originally represented the sovereign in 
 his " gau " or " mark," and acted for the king as source of justice 
 in it, responsible to none save the king. Thus he became 
 '' immediate " (unmittelbar). All other freemen, however large 
 their estates, were "mediate" (mittelbar), subject to the jurisdic- 
 tion of the crown, acting through the count. It was natural that 
 the families of these imperial officers should hold their heads high 
 above the ordinary landed gentry, over whom they, in the name 
 of the king, exercised authority. " Beamten " insolence has been 
 the bane of Germany in all ages. When the offices became 
 hereditary, the dignity which was at one time personal passed 
 imperceptibly to the family, and thus arose the conception of a 
 noble race towering above the simple Freiherren living on their 
 estates and with pedigrees purer and more ancient than those of 
 tin se minions, or soldiers of fortune, who lorded it over them and 
 disdained to associate with them in marriage. But in the eye of 
 the law, for a long while, there were still but two classes — freemen 
 and serfs. The nobles were the first only among their equals, primi 
 inter pares, nothing more. The Sachsen- Spiegel, drawn up about 
 1215, clashes all together : "princes, barons, and ordinary freemen 
 are alike in fine and wehrgeld." And though, in documents of the 
 twelfth century, the same person is termed indiscriminately princeps, 
 nohilis, and liber, the great feudal vassals of the crown persisted in 
 distinguishing themselves as princes, and cutting themselves off 
 from the true landed nobility on the soil. 
 
 The Schwaben-Spiegel, .drawn up a century later than the 
 Sachsen-Spiegel, shows us now successful they had been. In it 
 the freemen are divided into three distinct classes, the Semper 
 freien — the great vassals holding " immediately " from the crown ; 
 the Mittel freien — the gentry living on their freeholds, or serving 
 in the courts of the great vassals ; and the Landsassen, tho yeomen, 
 farming their own small properties, or renting those of landlords. 
 
6 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 But the surest token of a cleavage uf ranks is found in the lack 
 of " Ebenburtigkeit." Now, whereas the Sachsen-Spiegel makes 
 all freemen, from the yeoman to the duke, ebenbiirtig — able, that 
 is, to contract marriages with each other's familios, without loss of 
 rank — the Schwaben-Spiegel makes an union between a Semper 
 frei and a Mittel frei so great a mesalliance, that it disqualifies the 
 children from inheriting their father's rank and dignities. Step 
 by step an hereditary nobility had established itself among the 
 officers of the crown, enjoying special immunities and sovereign 
 dignities. It was no longer a class of freemen devoting itself to 
 serve the crown, but a close corporation of princes (Fiirsten), whose 
 members, whether high up or low down, could intermarry, but who 
 could not unite with those who were " mediate." The title of 
 Prince (Trinccps, Fiirst) had, till the close of the twelfth century, 
 no technical signification, but was applied to rulers generally, that 
 is, to all who bore authority. It was only at the end of the 
 twelfth century that the Imperial Chancery gave it a special signi- 
 fication, and made it applicable only to those exercising direct 
 control over their lordships — to Dukes, Margraves, Counts Palatine, 
 and such counts as remained invested with " immunitas," as those 
 of Tyrol and Ilenneberg, and to bishops, abbots and abbesses, who 
 also enjoyed this prerogative, as the Provost of Berchtesgaden, and 
 the Abbess of Gandersheim. 
 
 When the duchies of Swabia, Franconia, and Elsass fell into 
 abeyance through the extinction of the Hohenstaufen, the small 
 barons, or lords of manors, were left pretty much their own 
 masters, and they took advantage of the occasion to assert, and, 
 where possible, to establish their sovereignty over their petty 
 estates. The Emperors experienced so much opposition from their 
 great vassals, that they favoured these small landholders, who 
 always held by the Imperial crown in its contest with the Electors. 
 At the close of the fourteenth century there were organised con- 
 federacies of the knightly lords of manors in Swabia, Franconia, 
 and on the Ehine, and in 1422 the Emperor Sigismund took them 
 under his protection and confirmed them in their immunity. They 
 also were " immediate." But the princes would not allow them to 
 be " ebenburtig " with themselves, for the Free-imperial-knights 
 were sovereign on their own estates ; whereas the princes were so 
 on estates held in feof from the Emperor, and exercised their juris- 
 
TJie Upper Nobility. 7 
 
 <1iction over other families who were " niittelbar." The real reason 
 was, however, that there were too many of them. 
 
 The Free Knights of the Ehine formed themselves in 1527 into 
 the cantons of the Upper, Middle, and Lower Rhine. Following 
 this example, in 1543, the Swabian knights organised themselves 
 into five cantons. 
 
 In England the Crown was sufficiently strong to prevent the 
 great vassals from breaking loose from the constitution. In France, 
 the duchies of Normandy, Brittany, Guienne, and Burgundy, the 
 counties of Toulouse, Champagne, Flanders, etc., established their 
 independence under the last feeble Carlovingians. But the Crown 
 of France had the good fortune to be able to gather them in, one 
 after another, under its sovereignty, so that only a few — as Bouil- 
 lon, Doubes, Orange, Avignon, and Venaissin — were able to main- 
 tain themselves to a late period in partial independence. Finally, 
 the hand of Bichelieu, under Louis XIII., reduced them all to 
 subjection. But it was different in Germany; the Crown there 
 was much more truly elective than in England and France, where 
 it was so in theory rather than in fact. In Germany it passed 
 from the Frank to the Saxon, to the Bavarian, the Swabian, and 
 the Austrian houses. Elections were disputed, and rival candidates 
 maintained brief authority. The princes, electors, and great 
 vassals became all-powerful, and the supremacy of the Emperor 
 existed more in name than in reality. 
 
 The princes — that is, the great feudal vassals — had their own 
 code of laws, the Fiirstenrecht ; and by means of that established 
 themselves as a class apart from all others, as the highest stratum 
 of the social lump. In the Volksrechte of the several German 
 races, the principle prevailed that " the child should follow the 
 inferior hand ; " that, for instance, in a marriage between free men 
 and serfs, the child should be servile. But this principle was riot 
 intended to go further. The Fiirstenrecht gave it another charac- 
 ter altogether, by making it applicable to the intercourse of princes 
 with the gentiy and burgers. Gentry and burgers were free men ; 
 but the princes began to treat them as the free men had treated the 
 serfs — to forbid intermarriage with them. The Volksrechte estab- 
 lished the law to keep Teutonic blood from intermixture. The 
 Fiirstenrecht used it for the purpose of glorifying the class of 
 crown vassals at the expense of others. 
 
8 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 Nothing of the sort existed elsewhere. In France no law of the 
 sort was known. The Princes of Vendome, Verneuil, Veimandois, 
 Maine, Penthievro, etc., were legitimated, not because they sprang 
 from tho union of a sovereign with a woman of another class, but 
 becauso they were tho children of mistresses. Among the noble 
 families tho children proved their blood by their father's pedigree. 
 It is tho same in England. James IT. married the daughter of 
 Chancellor Hyde, and their daughters Mary and Anne came to the 
 throne. This could not have been in Germany. Mary and Anne 
 would have been esteemed illegitimate. As English peers were 
 not " immediate," exercising legal jurisdiction within their coun- 
 ties and duchies, the German high nobility never have acknow- 
 ledged, and do not at the present day acknowledge, them as their 
 equals in birth. Marriage was allowed with only six French 
 families, which, although not enjoying sovereign rights, were yet 
 related to reigning families, or were descended from houses once 
 sovereign. These were the houses of Lorraine, Savoy, Grirnaldi 
 (princes of Monaco), Eohan, Tremouille, and La Tour d'Auvergne 
 (Dukes of Bouillon). 
 
 The title of Fiirst or Prince belonged to the holder of a feof 
 under the crown, who exercised immediate jurisdiction in his prin- 
 cipality. Consequently landgraves, margraves, counts palatine, 
 burggraves, as well as dukes, were princes. So also were all such 
 counts as had acquired independence in troublous times, and had 
 wrung from the emperors acknowledgment of it, even though they 
 did not acquire a right to sit in the Imperial Diet. 
 
 When a count who was a prince died, he left, we will say, six 
 sons. Then the estates of the family, and, after a time, the crown 
 feofs, were divided equally among them all ; but one son only, or 
 at the utmost two, remained responsible for the feudal lands to the 
 crown, and this one son inherited the title of prince, whereas his 
 brothers did not. They remained counts, calling themselves after 
 the estates they inherited, but were not princely counts. 
 
 Beside the princes, temporal and spiritual, were the free im- 
 perial cities. In these the council (Bath) exercised ''immediate" 
 jurisdiction, and delegates from these free cities sat with the 
 princely electors in the Diet. In 1512, under the Euqjeror Maxi- 
 milian, the Diet (Iteichsta<f) was a body of three ranks, or classes — 
 the electoi s, the princes, and the free cities. The electors alone 
 
Tlte Upper Nobility. 9 
 
 had a voice in the nomination of the Emperor. At this date the 
 Diet was composed of about a thorn- and " immediate " princely 
 powers, secular and ecclesiastical. Of the latter there were 
 seventy-four. 
 
 In the course of the next three hundred years a great number 
 of illustrious princely and countly houses died out ; ;is, for instance, 
 the dukes of Pomerania, of Juliers-Cleves-Berg, of Saxe-Lauenburg, 
 the margraves of Anspaeh and Baireuth, the princely counts of 
 Henneberg, and the counts of Mansfeld, Gleichen, Hanau. Schaum- 
 burg, Diepholz, etc. But the Emperors set to work recruiting the 
 ranks, in a manner not creditable to themselves. Already, at the 
 end of the fifteenth century, they had begun issuing patents to 
 their favourites conferring on them the titles and preiogatives of 
 princes. The very first to receive such a diploma was the Count 
 of Croy, an ancient house in the Netherlands. In 1486 it was 
 made princely. But it was not till late, in 1803, that it was 
 admitted to a place in the Diet. The Arembergs, who obtained 
 title and seat in 1583, sat next to the dukes of Wiirtemberg, and 
 older families by far, such as those of Orange and Hohenzollern, 
 took very subordinate places. After the Thirty Years' war new 
 princes were created by the dozen— as the Liechtensteins, the 
 Diedrichsteins, the Auerspergs, and the Esterhazys. Many of these 
 families were of no antiquity or were insignificant; they received 
 their princely coronets as rewards for conversion from Protestant- 
 ism. A needy Italian, Count della Torre del Tasso, came to the 
 court of Frederick III. and was made chief forester. He then 
 organised a postal service, and his grandson, in 1500, was created 
 postmaster-general ; and this office and the farming of the post- 
 office were made hereditary in the family. The post-office was a 
 great success, and made the fortune of the masters. Torre del 
 Tasso became, in German, Thurn unci Taxis; in 1605, Leonard von 
 Taxis was made a baron, and in 1621 his son was created a count 
 He established a riding post, between Italy, Germany, and the 
 Netherlands. The income brought in by the post amounted to a 
 million of florins annually. In 1686 the house was made princely, 
 but did not gain a place in the college of princes of the empire till 
 1754. Though thus made to rank with sovereigns, they never 
 possessed " immediate " jurisdiction. The Auerspergs, Liechten- 
 steins, Esterhazys, and Trautmanndorfs were made princes as a 
 
10 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 reward for abandoning Protestantism. I have said that, when a 
 prince had several sons, the estates were divided among them, but 
 that one only retained the title and dignity of prince. This was 
 the case till the end of the Thirty Years' war, when every petty 
 count could obtain from the Emperor recognition of the independ- 
 ency which was virtually his. 
 
 A table of the branchings of the family of Nassau will show 
 how one small countly house could become a nuisery of princes. 
 (See next page.) 
 
 After the fashion of the Emperor, each Elector constituted his 
 court, with sewers, butlers, foresters, and marshals, chosen from 
 among the landed gentry of his province. And just as in the 
 Empire such officers were made hereditary, so was it in the pro- 
 vinces. A Prince Palatine held his court with as great splendour 
 as the Emperor; and the best families in the .Palatinate ministered 
 to the Elector as to their king. The present house of Schonborn 
 is descended from a Rhineland family in which was the hereditary 
 office of butler to the Archbishop of Mainz. The Metternichs were 
 hereditary chancellors to the Archbishop of Cologne. The Stadions, 
 sewers to the see of Augsburg. The Wurmbrands, cooks to the 
 counts of Styria. The Count von der Lippe held the basin, and 
 Count Bentheim poured the rose-water, at table, over the fingers of 
 the Elector of Hesse-Cassel. 1 
 
 The law of " Ebenbiirtigkeit " has been already spoken of. We 
 shall see now its working in the families of the princes. 
 
 According to this law, a prince, or a count of the Empire, if he 
 married beneath him, even with a daughter of one of the old noble 
 families of the land which was "mediate," could not leave his titles 
 and office to his children by her. The children followed their 
 mother, bore her name, and were, in the eye of the law, illegitimate. 
 
 The Elector Frederic of the Palatinate, in 1462, married Clara 
 Detten, an Augsburg damsel, lady-in-waiting and singer at the 
 court in Munich. His son by her, Ludwig, was, at his request, 
 made Count of Lowenstein by the Emperor Maximilian, and is the 
 ancestor of the princely house of that name in Wiirtemberg, which 
 can now only mate with sovereign houses. It was, in vain that 
 Frederic tried to obtain recognition of his burger wife, and of his 
 
 1 All those families are now princely, and can only mate morganatically iuto 
 our great houses. 
 
The Upper Nobility. 
 
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12 Germany, Present and Past 
 
 son as his legitimate heir. Ludwig was obliged to content himself 
 with the county of Lowenetein bought for him. 
 
 The Archduko Ferdinand of Austria mariied the beautiful 
 Philippine Welser, a member of one of the wealthiest citizen 
 Families in Augsburg. The Emperor created her Margravine of 
 Burgau, and Ferdinand's suns took their mother's title. Succession 
 to the Austrian dukedom or any of their father's titles was not 
 possible. 
 
 One houso in Germany has been conspicuous for its mesal- 
 liances. This is the house of Anhalt-Dessau. We will look at its 
 lii-ttiry and see the curious consequences of this law of " Eben- 
 biirtigkeit." 
 
 Leopold I., "the old Dessauer," insisted on marrying Anna- 
 Louise Fohse, daughter of an apothecaiy, in spite of his mother's 
 remonstrances. To save the house from extinction, the Emperor, 
 in 1701, raised Anna-Louise to the rank of Prince>s of the Empire, 
 so as to legitimatise her children. She left four sons; the eldest of 
 ihise, Gustavus, did not succeed his father, for he died before him. 
 Gustavus married, also below his rank, a brewer's daughter, and 
 by lur left six sons. But though the Emperor ennobled them and 
 made them counts, they were not allowed to succeed "the old 
 Dessauer," and consequently Leopold's second son followed him on 
 the princely throne. Prince George of Dessau married Theresa 
 von Erdmannsdorf, daughter of a Prussian chief forester, and left 
 by her three sons. His brother William married Emilie Clausnit- 
 zer, daughter of a music-master, in 1841. The pastor who mariied 
 them was fined 1,000 thalers. Their children had to be en- 
 nobled, but were never regarded as capable of succeeding to the 
 principality. John Gunther. Prince of Schwarzburg, left four 
 sons. The two eldest died without issue. The third married 
 below his rank, and though he had sons, on the death of John 
 Gunther tho youngest brother succeeded. The nephews were 
 treated as illegitimate. Charles Frederick of Anhalt-Bernbuvg, 
 who died in 1721, married the daughter of the Imperial Chancellor 
 Xiisder; but, though the Emperor created her Countess of Ballen- 
 stiidt, her sons could not obtain recognition as heirs presumptive. 
 The Duchy of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha passed over the heads of the 
 sons of Duke Christian Ernst (d. 1745) to their uncle, because the 
 Duke had married " unebenbtirtig." 
 
The Upper Nobility. 13 
 
 Duke Rudolf Augustus of Brunswick-Liineburg, after the death 
 of his first wife, loved Elizabeth Rosina Meuthe, daughter of a 
 barber of Mindeu. "You shall not be my left-handed, but my 
 right-handed wife," said the prince to her as they were married at 
 Hedwigsburg in July, 1681. They lived together happily fur 
 twenty years, but without their having any children. Had she 
 borne him a son, the child would not have been recognised by the 
 Estates, in spite of the Duke giving its mother his right hand. 
 
 Princess Augusta Amelia of Nassau married the Prince of 
 Hesse-Homburg in 1804, and was divorced from him next year. In 
 1807 she married Herr Friedrich Wilhelm von Bismark, her 
 brother's adjutant. To help him up into something like equality 
 with her, the King of Wiirtemberg made him count. In 1848 the 
 princess died, and then the count married her chambermaid, Amalie 
 Thibaut. If his first marriage had been " unstandesmas-ig." so 
 was his second, now that he was a count, and the Wiirtemberg 
 government refused to acknowledge his children by the second 
 wife — he had none by the first — as legitimate. Consequently his 
 title has gone to his nephew. The case is the more curious as the 
 Graf was not made " ebenbiirtig " with princes, and therefore does 
 not come under the law that affects their marriages. 1 
 
 The result of the Thirty Years' war was not exactly the sur- 
 vival of the Fittest, but of the Biggest. The lower nobility had 
 been greatly exhausted ; whole families had been swept away. 
 How readily this extinction was likely to occur among a class, the 
 sons of which were born to war, may be judged from a few ex- 
 amples. In 1278, in the battle of Marchfeld, there were fourteen 
 Trautmannsdorfs left dead. In that of Muhldorf, in 1322, twenty- 
 three of the same family rode with Frederic of Austria against 
 Louis the Bavarian, and of these twenty fell. Three only escaped 
 to continue the line. In the Seven Years' war, one family, that of 
 von Wedel, lost fifty-three of its members on the battle field. The 
 immunities of the Free-imperial-knights were jeopardised. The 
 number of those who claimed them was greatly reduced. The power 
 of the Free cities was broken, and the ecclesiastical estates were a 
 
 1 A glance at the Ahnanach de Gotha will show that at present there are 
 several morganatic marriages in German sovereign and princely families. The 
 children of all those unions are illegitimate. They cannot take the father's 
 princely rank and title. 
 
14 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 prey to the first appropriator. The Rhenish palatinate was, more- 
 over, gone. The ancient Empire existed merely in name ; the 
 supremacy of tho Emperor, and with it the unity of the body of 
 the State, sank to a mere shadow. Every member of the Empire 
 exercised tho right of proclaiming war, of concluding peace, and of 
 contracting treaties with every European power, the Emperor alone 
 excluded. Each of the princes possessed almost unlimited authority 
 over his subjects, whilst the Emperor retained only some incon- 
 siderable prerogatives or reservations. The princes were further 
 strengthened by the secularisation of a multitude of ecclesiastical 
 principalities and estates. The Elector of Brandenburg appro- 
 priated to himself the Bishoprics of Halberstadt, Minden, Camin, 
 and the reversion of Magdeburg. Oldenburg laid hold of the 
 Bishopric of Liibeck. The Bishoprics of Schwerin and Ratzeburg 
 fell to the grasp of Mecklenburg. The Elector of Hanover obtained 
 alternately with a Catholic prelate the diocese of Osnabriick. 
 He^se-Cassel appropriated the lands of the Abbey of Hirschfeld. 
 But the most curious instance of growth of a principality by 
 means of confiscation was that of Waldeck. Francis, Bishop of 
 Minister, was a baron of Waldeck, 1 with a castle in forestland, and 
 a few acres of estate about it. He embraced Lutheranism, and 
 took as his mistress a certain Anna Polman ; by her he had three 
 natural suns, who took as their arms a half star, in place of the 
 wholo star of the pure-blooded Waldecks. The Waldecks used 
 their zeal for the Gospel to greatly extend their material pro- 
 sperity, by appropriating to themselves all the lands of the Church 
 on which they could lay their hands. The town of Arolsen by this 
 means came to Waldeck, and the whole county was made 
 Lutheran compulsorily in 1542, whilst Miinster was restored to 
 Catholicism by the bishop as the price of getting assistance from 
 the Emperor in reducing the Anabaptists who had wrested it from 
 him. The Waldecks were not " immediate," but held Pyrmont in 
 feof to the diocese of Paderborn, and for their county of Waldeck 
 they were vassals of Hesse-Cassel. It was not till 1782 that this 
 house, which had amassed wealth by plunder, obtained recognition 
 as princely, on the coronation of Charles VI., but even then it was 
 not allowed a seat on the bench of princes in the Imperial Council. 
 
 1 In 1262, "nobilis vir Adolphua de Waldegge;" in 1327, "dominus de 
 Waldecke." 
 
The Upper Nobility. 15 
 
 In the period of Napoleon's greatness, the main object of the 
 Gevnian princes was the salvation of tiieir own sovereignties, at 
 whose expense mattered little. 
 
 It is difficult to conceive an attitude more humiliating than 
 that assumed by the princes at this time. Instead of rallying 
 round Austria in heroic opposition to Napoleon, they cringed at 
 his feet. On March 28, 1806, in defiance of the Constitution, von 
 Dalberg, the Chancellor, named Napoleon's uncle, Cardinal Fesch, 
 as his coadjutor and successor in the see of Mainz, which was to 
 become a secular, principality in the family of Napoleon. There- 
 upon sixteen German princes formally decreed their separation 
 from the Empire. 
 
 By the Peace of Presburg, the year before, the Electors of 
 Bavaria and Wiirtemberg had been accorded the title of king. In 
 gratitude for this favour they led the servile troop, and were 
 followed by the Landgrave of Hesse-Darmstadt and the Princes of 
 Nassau, Hohenzollern, Salm, Isenburg, etc. 
 
 On August 1, 1806, the French ambassador, Bacher, declared 
 that his Emperor no longer recognised Germany as an empire ; 
 and on August 6, Francis II. laid down the crown of Charlemagne. 
 Thereupon Napoleon rewarded Dalberg by creating him Prince- 
 Premier. Of old, at the coronation of a German Emperor, the 
 herald had proclaimed, " Where is a Dalberg?" and with the sword 
 Joyeuse the newly-crowned Emperor had knighted one of that 
 family. It had for centuries been an hereditary prerogative of the 
 family of Dalberg to be the first to receive honour of the sovereign. 
 In 1806, the first to lift his heel against his Emperor was a 
 Dalberg. The Elector of Baden, the Landgrave of Hesse, for their 
 subserviency, and Joachim Murat, Duke of Berg, were raised to 
 grand dukes, with royal rights and privileges. The Prince of 
 Nassau-TJsingen became a duke, and the Count von der Leyen was 
 made a prince. The French Emperor proclaimed himself patron 
 of the Bund. 
 
 By decision of the Ehenish Confederacy, Niirnberg lost its 
 independence and fell to Bavaria ; Frankfurt became the seat of 
 the Prince-Primate; Heitersheim, which had belonged to the 
 German knights, was annexed to Baden ; Friedberg fell to Hesse- 
 Darmstadt. But at the same time a number of princes and counts 
 who had been made, or had made themselves, independent, or 
 
1G Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 " immediate," were " mediatised," i.e. made subjects. Such were the 
 Princes of Nassau Orange- Fulda, of Hoherilohe, Schwarzenberg, 
 Lowenstein, Leiningen, Thurn und Taxis, Salm-Reifferscheid- 
 Krautheim, Neuwied, Wied-Runkel, Dettingen, Fugger, Metter- 
 nich, Truchsess, Fiirstenberg, Solms, the Landgrave of Hesse- 
 Homburg, the Dukes of Croy and Looz-Corswarem, many countly, 
 and all the remaining baronial families, which boasted their 
 " unmittelbarkeit," or " immediateness." 
 
 One remained, overlooked, when the map was rearranged. 
 The Liechtenstcins were in the sixteenth century marshals to the 
 dukes of Carinthia, and therefore " ministrales " of the house of 
 Ilapslmrg. Originally an old Moravian family of Herren von 
 Liechtenstein, they were created princes in 1621, during the 
 Thirty Years' war, and as none of the family estates in Austria 
 were " immediate," they bought the little county of Vaduz, among 
 the rocks under the Se.-saplana, on the upper Rhine, over which 
 they could exercise sovereign jurisdiction. When the Rheinbund 
 recast the map of Germany, this little territory was by oversight 
 left unmediatised, and to this day it remains an independent prin- 
 cipality of not nine thousand inhabitants, scattered over three 
 geographical square miles. 
 
 On September 25, 180G, the Elector Bishop of Wiirzburg joined 
 the Pheinbund, and was rewai'ded for his submission with the title 
 of grand duke. The Elector of Saxony then stole in, and was re- 
 paid with the royal crown (December 11, 1806). It was now a 
 race who could get in and get something. The Saxon dukes 
 followed ; then the two Princes of Reuss. The Dukes of Mecklen- 
 burg came next. Somewhat sulkily Oldenburg stole under cover. 
 By decree of December 10, 1810, Napoleon annexed to France the 
 Duchy of Mecklenburg, a large portion of Westphalia, and Berg. 
 The Duke of Aremberg lost half his lands to Fiance and half to 
 Berg. The Princes of Salm also saw their territories incorporated 
 into France. The two Dukes of Mecklenburg, who had been almost 
 the last to join the Bund, were the first to leave it (1813) and join 
 Prussia and Russia against Napoleon. They were followed by the 
 Grand Dukes of Baden and Hesse-Darmstadt, the Kings of Bavaria 
 and Wiirtemberg. Two hesitated — the King of Saxony and the 
 Grand Duke of Frankfurt. The former lost thereby half his land, 
 the latter all. The same fate attended the French intruders, the 
 
The Upper Nobility. 17 
 
 King of Westphalia, and the Duke of Berg. The Duke of Arern- 
 
 berg and the Princes of isenburg and von und zu der Leyen and 
 
 Salm, who had been spai*ed by the Rheinbund, weie mediatised by 
 
 the Congress of Vienna. Foity-iive princes, of whom three were 
 
 dukes and forty-one counts, also lost their independence, and were 
 
 forced to bow under the rule of their more favoured or fortunate 
 
 neighbours. Lippe had been saved from mediatisation by the 
 
 •sagacity of the Princess Pauline, who sent the Empress Josephine 
 
 a dress embroidered with blue .jays' feathers, and so bought her 
 
 intercession with Napoleon. Mediatisation was somewhat arbitrary. 
 
 Prince Fiirstenberg became the subject of the Prince of Hohen- 
 
 zollern-Sigmaringen, whose territorj^ was not more extended, nor 
 
 his ancestry more illustrious. But Furstenberg was forced to pass 
 
 under Hohenzollern, and not Hohenzollern under Furstenberg, 
 
 because the descendant of another branch of Hohenzollern sat on 
 
 the throne of Prussia. In 1849, Prussia mediatised Hohenzollern- 
 
 Hechingen and Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen, and appropriated the 
 
 principalities, to supply her with a convenient foothold in the 
 
 midst of Wurtemberg. Mediatisation was nowhere opposed except 
 
 at Mergetheim, where the bauers refused to give oath of allegiance 
 
 to the King of Wurtemberg till released by their old lord, the 
 
 Archduke Anthony of Austria. Frederick of Wurtemberg marched 
 
 dragoons among them and hung and shot the objectors. The 
 
 marriage of provinces to kingdoms has its honeymoon not on 
 
 union, but long after. 
 
 In vain did the mediatised princes protest and appeal to Austria. 
 Austria was powerless to help them. 1 
 
 By the Act of the Rheinbund certain rights had been reserved 
 to them. 
 
 1. They were to be regarded as " ebenbiirtig " with reigning 
 families — i.e. able to contract marriages with sovereign houses. 
 
 2. They were to form the highest aristocracy in the land into 
 which their principalilies were absorbed, and to have a position in 
 the House of Peers. Confirmed in 1815. 
 
 3. They were to be exempted from taxation. 
 
 4. They were to be allowed to exercise magisterial rights on 
 their estates. This privilege was withdrawn in 1848. 
 
 1 They were said to be mediatised because before they were immediate 
 governors of their territories, " reichs-unmittelbare Fiirsten." 
 
 C 
 
18 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 5. They woro " to bear the titles they had borne before media- 
 tisation, with omission only of all dignities and predicates expres- 
 sive of their former relation to the Empire, or to their position as 
 former sovereigns of the land." Yet the head of one of these 
 families is allowed to be called " the reigning prince," and to use 
 the ]>hir«i;* majestaticm. By degree of the German Confederation, 
 August 18, 1825, and March 12, 1820, confirmed June 12, 1845, the 
 mediatised princes and dukes are to be addressed as " durchlaucht " 
 (your serene highness), and the mediatised counts as "erlaucht" 
 (your highness). 
 
 6. They might be attended by a body-guard of not exceeding 
 thirty men. 
 
 The mediatised princes lost all sources of revenue which were 
 derived from sovereignty, but retained all that were derived from 
 property. 
 
 Since 1806 the mediatised princes, called in German Standes- 
 herren, enjoy the greatest privileges in Prussia. In the Prussian 
 monarchy there are seventeen ; they sit in the Chamber of Lords. 
 In Silesia, Saxon} 7 , and the Lausitz, there are twenty-eight more 
 " Standesherren," of which the most illustrious is the House of 
 Stolherg. 1 There are other princely and countly families in 
 Prussia, but as they were not independent (unmittelbar) before the 
 Piheinbund Act, they cannot intermarry with royal families, or 
 even with the families of the mediatised nobles. Such are the 
 princely houses of Bliicher of Wahlstadt, Hatzfeld-Trachenberg, 
 Hatzfeld-Wildenberg, Lichnowsky, Lynar, Pless, Putbus-Wrede. 
 Absurd as it may seem, it is yet true, no doubt, that a prince of 
 Salm can only marry a princess Bliicher morganatically. 
 
 In the Austrian monarchy are many houses formerly "imme- 
 diate," but whose estates there were never " immediate." That is 
 to say, houses which were immediate — say in Swabia — had lands 
 over which they had no sovereign jurisdiction in Austria. Their 
 lands out of Austria they have perhaps lost or sold, but they 
 
 1 Arembcrg-Croy, Bheina-Wolbeck, Bentheim-Rhecla, Bentheim-Bentheim, 
 Palm-Hor.itmar, Salm-Salm, Sayn-Wiitgenstein-Berleburg, Sayn-Wittgenstein- 
 Hohenstcin, Solms-Braimfels, Solms-Hohensolms, Wre<le, Thura und Taxis, 
 Walmodcn-Cimborn, the barons of Boyneburg, Grofe, von Stein, the counts of 
 Isenburg-Philippseich, Isenburg-Biidiugen, Erbach-Furstenau, Erbach-Erbach, 
 Erbaeh-Schonberg, &o. 
 
The Upper Nobility. 19 
 
 remain sovereign houses mediatised, retaining only estates over 
 which they never had independent authority. In 1825 the Em- 
 peror of Austria folluwed the example of the Eheinbund, and 
 mediatised all these, giving them the predicate of " durchlaucht " 
 (serene highness), and " durchlaucht hochgeborner Fiirst (serene 
 highborn prince). Of these there are forty-seven. 1 In Bavaria, 
 by decree of December 31, 1806, the mediatised princes, counts, and 
 barons were deprived of all independent jurisdiction, but were 
 given many great privileges and a seat in the first house. By 
 decree of 1817, the ducal house of Leuchtenberg has precedence 
 over all the other " Standesherren," numbering in all twenty- 
 three. 2 
 
 In Wiirtemberg there are thirty-five " Standesherren ; " their 
 position was secured by royal proclamation December 8, 1821. Of 
 these thirty-four sit in the House of Peers. 3 The Prince of Met- 
 ternich, who used to he peer in Wiirtemberg for the principalities 
 of Ochsenhausen and Winneburg. sold them to the Crown, and thus 
 ceased to have a seat on the bench. 
 
 In Hanover there are three peers, 4 in Baden eight, 5 in Kur- Hesse 
 
 1 Fourteen (Auersperg, Colloredo-Mnnsfeld, Diedrichstein, Esterhazy, 
 Kaunitz-Rietberg, Klavenh filler, Lobkowitz. Metternich, Rosenberg, Schwarzen- 
 berg, Schonborn, Starkemberg, Trautmannsdorf, and Windischgratz) are in the 
 Austrian monarchy, thirty-three are outside of it. 
 
 2 Esterhozy of Galentha, Fugger-Babenhausen, Fugger-Glott, Finrger-Kireh- 
 heira, Fugger-Neuendorf, Fugger-Kirchberg, Hohenlohe-Schillingsfiirst, Leinin- 
 gen, Lowenstein-Freudenberg in both branches, Lowenstein-Rosenberg, Dettin- 
 gen-Dettingen, Dettingen-Wallerstein, Schwarzenberg, Thurn u. Taxis, Castell 
 in two branches, Erbach, Giech, Orttenburg, Rechteren-Limpurg, SchGnborn- 
 Wiesentheid, and Stadion. 
 
 3 Dietrichslein. Fiirstenberg, Hohenlohe-Bartenstein-Jaxtborg, Hohenlohe- 
 Waldenburg-Schillingsfiir.-t, Hohenlohe-Oehringen, Hohenlohe-Kirchberg, Ho- 
 heulohe-Bartenstein, Hohenlohe-Langenbnrg, Lowenstein-Wertheim-Freuden- 
 burg, with its two branches, Lowenstein-Wertheim-Rosenberg, Oettingen-Oettin- 
 gen, Oettingen-Wallerstein, Salm-Reifferscheidt-Krautheim, Schwarzenberg, 
 Solms-Braunfels, Thurn u. Taxis, Waldburg-Waldaee, Waldburg-Trauchburg, 
 Waldburg-Wurzach, Windischgratz, Erdody, Isenburg-Meerholz, Kciuigsegg- 
 Aulendorf, Limburg, Quadt, Rechberg u. Rothenliiwen, Roth-Wartenberg, 
 Schasberg, Stadion, Sternberg, Torring u. Tengling, Waldbott-Bassenheim, and 
 Waldeck. 
 
 4 Aremberg, Bentheim-Bentheim, Rheina-Wcdbeck. 
 
 5 Fiirstenberg, Leiningen-Hardenburg-Dachsburg, Leiningen-Billigheim, 
 T.einingen-Nundenau, von undzuder Leyen, Lowenstein-Weitheim-Freudenberg, 
 1 .'6 .venstein-Wertheim, Rosenberg, Salru, Krautheim. 
 
20 Gcrmiriy, Present and Past. 
 
 are four, 1 in the Grand Duchy nineteen; 8 in Nassau are five, 8 in 
 i Udenburg only the Count of Bentinok. 
 
 A good number of the German princes, reigning and mediatised, 
 clefrive from the old feudal vassals of the Crown. The Grand Duke 
 «'f Baden, for instance, descends from the Counts of Ziihringen and 
 < htenau, and they are clearly traceable to a count placed over the 
 Breisgau, a " ministerialis" of the Emperor — an ennobled chai coal- 
 burner, according to tradition. So also the Princes of Anhalt 
 derived from a gau-graf of Northern Swabia, and "the King of 
 Prussia from a burgiave of Niirnberg, invested with the feof by 
 Henry VI. Others represent old princely families with sovereign 
 blood in their veins. The Erbachs claim descent from Emma, 
 daughter of Charlemagne. Unfortunately for the claim, it is pretty 
 clearly demonstrable that Charlemagne had no daughter named 
 Emma. 
 
 Some princely houses represent very ancient families whose 
 nobility dates from a remote antiquity — such are the Fiirstenbergs, 
 Dettingens, Hohenlohes, Solms, and Leiningens. Others are of 
 mere burger origin, as the Euggers, weavers of Augsburg, and the 
 Waldbotts, merchants of Bremen. Others, again, spring from 
 alliances of princes with mistresses. Such is the family of Platen. 
 Clara Elizabeth of Meissenbach married Baron Franz von Platen. 
 She became the mistress of the first Elector of Hanover, the father 
 of George I. The husband, for accommodating the Elector with his 
 wife, was created a Count of the Empire, and the post office was 
 made hereditary in the family. The Son of Countess Platen — 
 whether the Elector or the Count was the father nobody knows — 
 married a daughter of General von Uffeln, and she became a mis- 
 tress of George I., but was deposed for the sister of Count Platen, 
 married to Baron von Kielmannsegge, created by the king Countess 
 
 1 Ifenburg-Birstein, Isonburg-Budingen in Wachtersbach, Isenburg-Bttdingen 
 in Meerholz, Solms-Rodelheim. 
 
 2 Iaenburg-Biretein, Lowenstein-Rosenberg, Solms-Braunfels, Solms-Lich u. 
 Hohensolms, Solms-Rudelheim, Solms-Laubacli, Solms-Wildenfels, Erbach- 
 Erbach, Erbach-Schonberg, Erbacb-Fiirstenau, Isenburg-Bttdingen, Isenburg- 
 Biidingen in Meerholz, Isenburg-Bttdingen in WachtersbHch, Alt-F.einingen- 
 Westcrburg, Scbonborn, Stolberg-Wernigerode, Stolberg-Rossla, the Baron von 
 Riedseck, and the Count of Giirz. 
 
 3 Holzappel and Schaumburg, von der Leyen, Wicd, Waldbott, Bassenheim, 
 Neu-Leiningen-Westerburg. 
 
The Upper Nobility. 21 
 
 of Arlington. The mediatised Counts of Wallmoden had a similar, 
 and not more savoury, origin for their " immediateness." 
 
 After the Thirty Years' war, Austria created the postmaster 
 family of Thum und Taxis princely and immediate. The old 
 Duchess of Orleans, a princess palatine by birth, wrote : " A prince 
 of Taxis ! This is a wonderful princedom indeed ! If you want a 
 pack of princes of this sort, you can create them by the dozen." 
 In 1708 she wrote about the newly-created Free-imperial- counts of 
 Wurmbrand : " Of the county of Wurmbrand I never heard in all 
 my life; it must be something newly cooked, or Austrian." It is 
 not to be wondered at that numbers of ancient families, as the 
 Guelf's, Wettiners, and Holsteiners, should feel indignant to have 
 to rank among such, and to give these newly-fledged princes a seat 
 beside them in the Diet. If the Protestant princes did not remon- 
 strate at this privilege being freely given as a reward for conversion, 
 it was only because they wanted the same favour awarded them 
 for their sons by mistresses, or by morganatic wives. When the 
 Emperor offered the title of prince to Count Anthony Giinther of 
 Oldenburg, of the illustrious House of Holstein, " No, thank you," 
 he said ; " I had rather enter at the head of the counts than bring 
 up the tail of the princes." With an outburst of rage and contempt, 
 a Count of Orange-Nassau flung behind him one of the newly- 
 cooked princes who was entering the council-chamber of the 
 Emperor before him, bitterly exclaiming, " Apprenez, monsieur, 
 que des princes comme vous marchent apres des comtes com me 
 nous." 
 
 The recruiting of the " immediate " nobility went on with 
 great activity during the 320 years since the first patent was given 
 to the Croys, in I486, to the year 1804, when the Trautmannsdorf > 
 closed the series. In that period twenty-nine diplomas have been 
 issued creating Princes of the Empire, and twenty-three making 
 Counts of the Empire, all " immediate." The venerable houses of 
 Stolberg in Prussia, and Castell and Ortenburg in Bavaria, are the 
 only three among the mediatised which do not owe their origin to 
 Austria. Isenburg, Leiningen, Solms, and Wittgenstein were 
 indeed old Counts of the Empire before the introduction of patents, 
 but they were made princely in 1743, 1779, 1742, and 1792 respec- 
 tively. For a long time the Herren von or zu der Lippe refused to 
 be ennobled by patent. Their nobility dated from the remotest 
 
•22 Germany, Present and Pad. 
 
 antiquity, and they exercised jurisdiction over their retainers and 
 vassals under feof to the see of Paderborn and the house of Hesse- 
 Caaael. At tlio Reformation they took the title of count, but it 
 was not till 1789 that the Count of Lippe-Detmold condescended 
 to accent a diploma from Joseph II. creating him a prince. 
 
 Notwithstanding the dying out of many hundreds of illustrious 
 immediate, princely, and countly houses, the Austrian factory had 
 woikcd so vigorously that, at the breaking out of the Eevolution, 
 there were 300 free imperial princes and counts, and several thou- 
 sand immediate barons and knights, who did not indeed enjoy a 
 seat on the bench of princes, but exercised almost absolute sove- 
 reignty in their petty estates. Of these there were all degrees, 
 from the powerful Elector-Kings of Brandenburg-Prussia and Han- 
 over-England to the tiniest counts and barons and knights lording 
 it over their little patches of land and handfuls of bauers. The 
 sovereign Count of Leinburg-Styrum-Wilhelmsdorf, in Franconia, 
 had a standing army of hussars, consisting of a colonel, nine lower 
 officers, and two privates. He published, however, his Court 
 Gazette, and instituted an order in his diminutive realm. Baron 
 Grote, in the Harz, reigned over one farm ; and when Frederic the 
 Great came there, he met him with a fraternal embrace, saying, 
 " Voila deux souverains qui se rencontrent." 
 
 At the present day the sovereign principality of Liechtenstein 
 consists of a village or two, some Alpine pastures, and scattered 
 farms. The diminutive capital contains 1000 inhabitants. The 
 principality under the Bund furnished a contingent, of 55 men. 
 The government is monarchical, but has been constitutional since 
 1818 ; there is only one chamber of representatives. The still smaller- 
 county of Bentheim has fallen to Prussia, and in 1816 the head of 
 the house was given the title of Prince (Fiirst) instead of that of 
 Count. 
 
 The Rheinbund reduced the list of three hundred sovereigns to 
 about thirty; the spiritual princes had disappeared wholly. But 
 the Baron von der Leyen was made a prince by the Bund, and in 
 1837 the house of Bentheim was accorded the same honour by 
 Prussia. 
 
 The word " Adel," which we translate nohle, has in German a 
 signification more extended. There are the higher " Adel" and 
 the lower " Adel." To the former category belong all those families 
 
The Upper Nobility. 23 
 
 which are princely, and can mate only among themselves or into 
 the foreign sovereign houses — the families which, as von Stein 
 coarsely said, will serve as a stud for Eussia, and not for Eussia 
 only. To the latter category belong all counts, barons, and " vons " 
 — all, that is, who have a right to bear a coat-of-arms, and are 
 reckoned in England as gentlemen by birth. There are, however, 
 princes who hover in an ambiguous position between these classes, 
 princes to whom the predicate of durchlaucht (" your serene high- 
 ness") is accorded, but who are not regarded as " ebenbiirtig " with 
 other serene highnesses, or even with countly highnesses. For in- 
 stance, the countly houses of Isenburg-Philippseich, of Isenburg- 
 Biulingen, and of Erbach, belong to the very highest stratum of 
 the Geiman aristocracy, ranking at court among sovereign princes ; 
 but the princely houses of Bliicher, Hatzfeldt, Lichnowsky, Lynar, 
 riess, Putbus, and Wrede do not, in this respect. A Prince Bis- 
 marck, for instance, could not marry into a family of a mediatised 
 baron. The Bismarcks, though made princely, are not made " eben- 
 biirtig " with the families to whom the privilege of mating with 
 royalty was accorded by Act of June 8, 1815. 
 
 If any member of one of the reigning or mediatised families 
 contracts a marriage with a person below his rank, the marriage is 
 entitled morganatic. It is performed in church by priest or pastor, 
 but the sons are mules ; they neither inherit the rank or reversion 
 of estates of the family, nor can they continue the pedigree. The 
 morganatic wife is no wife in the eye of the law, because not 
 acknowledged by the family ; and the families of the upper nobility 
 are allowed to make rules among themselves barring or licensing 
 maniages. Of this more in another chapter. The union with the 
 morganatic wife, be it remembered, has been blessed by the Church, 
 and sealed with solemn vows of mutual fidelity before God, pub- 
 licly taken. The " unebenbiirtige " wife who gives her hand to a 
 prince does so trusting not to the law, but to his honour as a 
 gentleman and to his oath as a Christian, and the prince who takes 
 advantage of his legal privilege to throw her aside when a more 
 profitable match presents, forfeits his rights to be regarded as one or 
 the other. 
 
 A member of the German high nobility towered, in his own 
 opinion and in German law, above our most ancient coroneted 
 families — and by what right ? By decree of the Eheinbund ! A 
 
24 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 Howard, a Percy, a Neville, not fit to mate with a Fugger, a 
 Waldbott, or a Platen ! 
 
 The instance of the Fuggers is crucial. 
 
 A weaver of Graben, near Augsburg, in the fifteenth century 
 was the founder of this family. A son was made a gentleman by 
 Frederic III. in 1452, but this branch died out in 1583. The 
 second son, Jacob Fugger, left seven sons, whom Maximilian I. 
 ennobled. The Emperor pawned to the Fuggers the county of 
 Kirchberg and the lordship of Weissenhorn for 70,000 florins. As 
 the money was not forthcoming to redeem the estates, Charles V. 
 created the brothers Anthony and Eaimund counts, and made the 
 lands over to them for ever. Though Counts of the Empire, the 
 Fuggers stuck to the shop, and continued their looms. One branch 
 of the family was made " immediate " by Francis II. in 1803, but 
 it was mediatised in 1805 ; thus, it enjoyed its immunity for two 
 years, and in virtue thereof a Prince of Fugger-Wellerstein, a 
 descendant of the old Augsburg weaver, would scorn to marry into 
 any English family except the royal family. One of our ducul 
 houses could only furnish him with a morganatic mate. Since the 
 Rheinbund, other houses have disappeared or lost their sovereignty. 
 Hohenzollern-Hechingen and Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen went down 
 the ladder in 1849, when Prussia wanted a patch of ground whereon 
 to plant her foot on the border of Wiirtemberg. Prince William of 
 Hohenzollern-Hechingen, and Prince Anthony of Hohenzollern- 
 Sigmaringen were induced to resign their sovereignty to the repre- 
 sentative of a younger branch in Prussia. Hesse-Homburg was 
 wrenched from Hesse-Darmstadt by Prussia in 1806. Hanover 
 and Nassau were incorporated with Prussia the same year. Isen- 
 burg is now divided between Prussia and Hesse. Others must go 
 in time ; they will go whenever they show a desire to be indepen- 
 dent. The Duke of Brunswick ventured to send a congratulatory 
 telegram on the birth of an heir to the exiled Hanoverian family. 
 It was significantly remarked in semi-official papers that " this 
 proceeding is not likely to be forgotten " by Prussia. So with the 
 rest, they are all on good behaviour, and allowed to live on sufferance. 1 
 
 1 There now remain twenty-two sovereign houses in Germany : four royal- 
 Prussia, Bavaria, Saxony, Wiirtemberg ; six grand-ducal — Baden, Hes^e, Mecklen- 
 burg-Schwerin, Mecklenburg-Strelitz, Saxe- Weimar, Oldenburg; five ducal — 
 Brunswick, Saxe-Meiningen, Saxe-Al ten berg, SaxeCoburg-Gotha, Anhalt; and 
 

 The Upper Nobility. 25 
 
 The least symptom of distaste for singing day and night " Do- 
 mine saloiem jac Imperatorem nostrum," and there will be another 
 fall of the angels into the limbo of mediatisation. Prussia will be 
 ready to address the princes in the words of Lady Macbeth : 
 
 " Stand not upon the order of your going, 
 But go at once.'' 
 
 seven princely, — Schwarzburg-Rudolstadt, Schwarzburg-Sondershausen, Waldeck, 
 Keuss, elder line, and Reuss younger line, Schauinburg-Lippe, and T ippe. Under 
 the Bund there were thirty-two, consequently ten have gone since the Vienese 
 Agreement of May 15, 1820. 
 
26 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE LOWER NOBILITY. 
 
 Malcolm. Dispute it like a man. 
 
 Macduff. I sliiill do so ; 
 
 But I must also feel it as a man : 
 
 I cannot but remember such tilings were, 
 
 That were most precious to me. 
 
 Macbeth, act. iv. sc. 3. 
 
 No " Adel " without an allodial estate, was a maxim of early 
 German law. The son of an " edeler Herr " who did not inherit, 
 relapsed into simple freeman. The Edelmann living on his estate 
 held of his ancestors, and not by feof of crown or great vassal, was 
 a Freiherr, a lord of the manor, or baron. Menzel has happily 
 said that in the early Middle Ages all the barons were bauers and 
 all bauers barons. It was a favourite saying, " A nobleman is at 
 the plough in the morning, and at tourney in the afternoon." A 
 son of Albert of Austria praised an old peasant once for his good 
 plough, strapping son, and sturdy horses. Next day he was much 
 surprised to see the old man arrive at court at the head of his 
 armed retainers, and to learn that he was the Baron of Hegenau. 
 Scott's Arnold Biederman is not a fancy picture. There were 
 thousands of such rustic nobles scattered over the country. Too 
 often they combined taking of tolls with tillage. 
 
 The present princely family of Salm derives from a knightly 
 house on the Rhine, which made its wealth b} r exacting of every 
 ship that passed Bingen a pound of pepper. In Altenburg, near 
 Reutlingen, as late as the sixteenth century, lived nobles who on 
 Sunday swaggered to church in scarlet mantles, and on week-days 
 divided their time between ploughing their fields and taking purses 
 on the h'ghway. 
 
The Lower Nobility. 27 
 
 Of landed property there were three sorts : the crown lands, 
 given in feof to the great vassals, and the free land, private pro- 
 perly, allodium nubile, held by the baron, and allodium villanum, held 
 by a bauer, a freeman, but one who, on account of the smallness of 
 his estate, could not exercise magisterial rights over it. The 
 icpresentatives of these two classes in England are the squires and 
 the yeomen. Of these, the former were alone ritterbiirtig, i.e. 
 capable of being knighted, and bearing coats-of-arms. They are 
 entitled in mediaeval Latin " mediocriter nubiles." Among the 
 lower nobility the law of " ebenbtirtigkeit " applied only to mar- 
 riages with serfs. Marriages with free persons, the daughters of 
 farmers and of citizens, was allowed. Thus, in the story of the 
 " Poor Henry," which Longfellow has adopted for the groundwork 
 of his " Golden Legend," the knight marries the miller's daughter, 
 who Avas ready to sacrifice her life to cure him of his disease. Such 
 an union was unusual, but not illegal. So also the country nobles 
 married rich citizens' daughters, to recruit their dilapidated for- 
 tunes. It was not till the fifteenth century that this was depre- 
 cated. At a tournament at Onolzhach in 1485 it was decided that 
 a nobleman who had married a burger's daughter was not to be 
 allowed to enter the lists against other gentlemen, unless she had 
 brought with her a dower of 4000 florins. 
 
 Marriage out of their rank did not debar the sons from inherit- 
 ing the name, title, and estate of the father, but after the fifteenth 
 century it did bar their way to the enjoyment of certain privileges. 
 There were offices about the court of the prince which they were 
 not allowed to fill ; they could not take the seats occupied by their 
 fathers in the provincial die's Ecclesiastical benefices, chapters, 
 and certain abbeys were closed to nobles who could not prove 
 purity of blood through eight or sixteen descents on both sides. 
 And in German heraldry a mesalliance effaces every quartering on a 
 shield, and leaves the noble who has contracted it with, indeed, his 
 family coat, but with a cancelled past, to start a new family, and 
 be the root of a new genealogical tree. In the plav of " Pfeffer 
 Rosel," the Baron of Sonnenberg marries a market-girl. The 
 Emperor bids six ladies of his court lay their hands on her head, 
 and he ennobles an ancestor of the gingerbread-seller with each 
 hand that reposes on her, so as to save the escutcheon and the 
 pedigree of the Sonnenbergs. The ennobling of ancestors long 
 
28 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 gathered to the dust was done not infrequently to assure the 
 benefits of his rank to their descendant. The Chinese system is 
 the reverse of the German. In the Celestial Empire the exaltation 
 of a man to be a mandarin, mandarinises — excuse the expression — 
 all his forefathers. 
 
 By the fifteenth century many of the barons had called them- 
 selves counts. They had assumed the title without having any of 
 the requisites of a count. They were not vassals holding feofs 
 from the crown. But the original country families had broken into 
 so many branches — each branch and subramification had carried 
 with it the title — that the old Freiheiren thought they might as 
 well bear it also. But there were also a great many landed gentry 
 who contented themselves with the title of " edler Her von " — like 
 the Scottish " laird." A few, a very few, old families remain on 
 their ancestral estates, untitled. Such is the family of Ganz von 
 Pudlitz, to this day proudly declining coronets, whether offered by 
 Emperors or Grand Dukes. The head of the house is simply 
 designated Der edeler Herr von Pudlitz, and the brothers are con- 
 tent with the modest prefix of " von." Yet the family can show 
 an unbroken pedigree from the sixth century. 
 
 The nobility enjoyed several privileges at the close of the 
 Middle Ages, and till the French Eevolution. 
 
 1. They held an hereditary magistracy in their estates. This 
 Avas much as if every county squire was ex officio justice of peace. 
 
 2. They sat on the upper bench in the provincial assemblies. 
 
 3. They had the right of settling tradesmen on their estates — 
 a valuable privilege, as it checked the monopoly of the guilds. 
 
 4. They were exempt from having soldiers quartered on them. 
 
 5. They were exempt from paying taxes. 
 
 6. They were exempt from judicial mutilation, and insulting 
 punishments. 
 
 With the break-up of the Empire many privileges were given 
 up or abolished. The right of exemption from having soldiers 
 quartered on them was the first to go. In the Thirty Years' war 
 neither Swedes nor Imperialists were likely to respect such a 
 privilege, when the house of the gentleman offered the most com- 
 fortable quarters. 
 
 The next to go was exemption from taxation. At first, the 
 nobility sought to save the principle by granting subsidies ; but 
 
r &3 
 
 The Lower Nobility. 29 
 
 this did not last long: the free contributions expected of them 
 were found to exceed the sura that could be exacted by taxation, 
 ;md in their own interest they yielded. 
 
 A favourite print in village inns represents the bauer and the 
 parasites who prey on him arranged on a scale. The Emperor 
 stands on one step with the motto, " I live on the taxes." The 
 soldier on another stage boasts, " I pay for nothing." The pastor 
 on his platform says, " I am supported by the tithe." The beggar, 
 whines, " I live on what is given me." The nobleman airily says, 
 "I pay no taxes;" and the Jew mutters, "I bleed them all." 
 Beneath the whole crew stands the bauer with bent back, 
 exclaiming, " Dear God, help me ! I have to maintain all these." 
 The burdens remain to this day unrelieved, rather made more 
 onerous ; but the Beamter, the government official, has taken the 
 place of the Edelmann. There was a reason for the exemption of 
 the nobleman from taxation. He paid with his blood. The gentle- 
 man was the soldier of the Empire. His profession was arms. 
 The battlefield consumed his suns. The farmer tilled and reaped, 
 and paid tax to be allowed to carry on his agricultural round with- 
 out molestation, without having to buckle on the sword and grasp 
 the spear, when he ought to be sowing or reaping. But wh§n the 
 military system ceased to be feudal, this reason for exemption 
 ceased also ; and when it ceased it was abandoned. With the 
 surrender of exemption from taxation, and from being quartered 
 upon, the special privileges distinguishing the gentry from ordi- 
 nary freemen were gone. Those that remained were unimportant. 
 The nobleman might, indeed, claim a right to sit on a chair when 
 had up before a court of justice, and to be cited by written sum- 
 mons, not by word of mouth ; to be married in his castle instead of 
 in the parish church, and to put a lock on his pew ; but these 
 were privileges rapidly becoming antiqtxated, little valued, and 
 ready to disappear ; or were shared with wealthy citizens ; and 
 were a grievance to nobody. 
 
 It was otherwise with the rights claimed by the nobility and 
 gentry as landed proprietors. 
 
 The English system of letting farms for a term of years at a 
 fixed annual rent — a system which dates back to the reign of 
 Edward III. — was unknown in Germany. So also was the Italian 
 system of farming estates, the tenant sharing the profits equally 
 
30 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 with the landlord. Money was scarce in Germany, and what 
 money there was Lad a limited circulation ; for every free city, 
 sovereign, count, and margrave coined ; and these several coinages 
 lost value beyond the district. 
 
 The German system was essentially feudal. The nobility were 
 so constantly engaged in war that thsy could not attend to their 
 land ; they therefore gave it to villein or freeborn farmers on 
 " lelm " — in feof. A large tract of crown land, for instance, was 
 given by the Emperor in feof to a count. The graf did homage 
 for the " lehn " on bended knee, when invested with it. He was 
 thenceforth bound to supply the Emperor from it with a certain 
 number of fighting men. The count appointed stewards ( Vogte) 
 over the land ; they built themselves castles, and supplied their 
 lord with men and money. Their offices became hereditary in 
 their families. The Castle of Staufen belonged to the Dukes of 
 Zahringen, but it was inhabited from generation to generation by 
 stewards who called them>elves lords of Staufen. It was of one of 
 these von Staufen that the story was told which forms the basis of 
 Fonque's " Undine." The farms were given by these stewards to 
 peasants in feof, and the bauers undertook to supply their lords 
 with so many sacks of corn, so many pecks of malt, so many 
 horses, oxen, geese, and eggs in the year. The farm once given 
 was very generally given for ever; it became an heiitable tenure, 
 just as the tenure of the vogt and that of the graf had become 
 hereditary. The castle and barony of Wildenstein was a feudal 
 tenure in male line belonging to the Palatinate of the Rhine. In 
 the beginning of the fifteenth century it was given in feof to Baron 
 John von Zimmern, in this curious fashion, that he should share 
 the castle with another feudal tenant, the knight John Conrad von 
 Bodmann, divide the farms and villages, and on the death of the 
 knight buy right of succession of his heirs for 600 florins. The 
 Baron von Zimmern was a wag and fond of a rough broad joke. 
 The story goes, that, on his entering into possession, the bauers of 
 Wittershausen thought to ingratiate themselves with him by min- 
 istering to his sense of fun. When he came to visit their village 
 and fix their annual payment, they assembled on the greensward 
 beside the road, and lying in a circle entangled their legs together, 
 and when he rode up, he found a ring of wriggling peasants with 
 their nether limbs in a knot seemingly inextricable. After having 
 
The Lower Nobility. 31 
 
 laughed at the comical si^ht, he asked the occasion of it, when the 
 1 fiuers cried out that they had gone to sleep after their noon meal, 
 and their legs had got entangled, and that now none of them knew 
 his own limbs from those of his neighbour. 
 
 " I will restore his proper legs to each man," said the Baron 
 jumping off his horse, and with his whip he laid about the 
 shoulders of each bauer, who speedily loosed himself from the 
 tangle, and skipped out of reach of the lash. 
 
 " And now, for having found you your legs again," said Baron, 
 John von Zimmern, " I lay on you the charge of a sack of corn, 
 paid annually to Wildenstein." 
 
 After harvest his steward went to Wittershausen with a huo-e 
 sack, which when full of wheat would load a cart. The peasants 
 were aghast, but had to pay, as no stipulation had been made as to 
 the size of the sack. But they had their revenge. The bauers had 
 a " servitude" on the forest, i.e. a right of cutting down trees for 
 building purposes, and a right to clear away sufficient wood to 
 make a way for the conveyance of the timber to their village. 
 They accordingly went into the forest, and selected a tree peculiarly 
 tall, at the extreme further end of the forest, cut it down, laid it 
 across a cart, and then hacked down trees right and left, making a 
 broad avenue clean through the woodland up to their vil'age. 
 This brought the baron to terms. He reduced the size of the sack 
 of corn, and they propitiated him by making over to him the 
 church-rate. 
 
 In the Middle Ages the strongest ecclesiastical laws were 
 decreed against the taking of rent in money for land ; it was 
 regarded as a form of usury, and was forbidden under penalty 
 of excommunication. These laws were evaded by the landlords 
 letting their farms for real payment, i.e. for frohn (corvee) and 
 payment in naturalia. Even at the beginning of the present 
 century it was very common in Germany for the peasants to let 
 bits of ground for building purposes or for garden, not for a sum 
 of money, or annual rent, but on condition that the tenant should 
 give his work for a day or two in the month, and for three or four 
 days at harvest time. During the Middle Ages many freemen 
 farming their own land fund it advisable to surrender their 
 estates to the barons, and receive them back again in feof, to 
 secure themselves from molestation by powerful neighbours, and 
 
32 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 to relieve themselves from the irksomeness of being personally 
 called to arms. Thus nearly all land ceased to be allodial, and 
 was held in feof. Payment was almost always made in kind, and 
 this system proved vexatious. Instead of the farmer paying a 
 half-yearly rent, the steward of the land visited the bauer at 
 irregular intervals, and carried off a tithe of flax, or hemp, <>r 
 corn, or cattle, as it was needed at the moment by the lord. The 
 steward was not always just in his estimate of the amount to be 
 taken, and he was sometimes oblivious of the fact that he was 
 repeating these requisitions. Caleb Balderstone's raid in search of 
 provisions for the guests at Eavenswood was what took place 
 frequently in every barony of Germany. But if rent in money 
 was not allowed, taxes were permitted, and every horse, and calf, 
 and goose, indeed every stove, was taxed. An old steward, who 
 can remember these payments before they were commuted, says 
 that a farm worth, if sold, 2oOZ., was charged with six or ten such 
 payments — the hearth shilling, the smoke-tax, the Shrove Tuesday 
 eggs, the Walpurgis tax, Michaelmas tax, a pfennig for a goose, 
 nine pfennigs for every calf, etc. But, lie adds, when all were 
 collected, the total amount was only four shillings. 1 
 
 The grievance lay, not in the heaviness of the charges, but in 
 their vexatiousness. What was far more grievous than the tithe 
 or tax, was the frohn (corvee), the right of the landlord to exact 
 work from the peasant on so many days in the week, and to 
 requisition his carts and horses. The word " frohn " is derived 
 from the Old German fro, a lord, and means work done for the 1< >rd 
 of the manor. " Handfrohn " consisted in service on the home 
 farm, an estate surrounding the castle or manor-house (meierhof), 
 for immediate requirements ; this was cultivated entirely by unpaid 
 labourers, working sometimes three days a week, in return for a 
 more or less extended farm which they enjoyed free of rent in 
 money. The lord had also right to employ a bauer's son or 
 servant as a messenger, or to call him to assist in beating the 
 woods for a chase. It was the " frohn " which was the immediate 
 cause of the outbreak of the Peasants' War. The Countess of 
 Lupfen had eagerly embraced the tenets of the Eeformation. She 
 thei'eupon suppressed the festivals of the peasants as papistical and 
 superstitious, and she ordered her peasants to go on Sundays 
 1 Dr. Laurenz Fischer : Der Teutsche Add. Frankf. 1852. 
 
The Lower Nobility. 33 
 
 gathering strawberries for her dinner-table, and snail-sliells for the 
 making of ornamental pincushions. This circumstance, so trifling 
 in appearance, became the occasion of a general conflagration. 
 Hitherto no " frohn " had been exacted on a festival ; on Sunday 
 the bauer had been a freeman. The snail-shells were the limit of 
 his obedience. On the day of strawberries and snail-shalls the 
 peasants of Stuhlingen, Bondorf, and Ewatingen assembled to the 
 number of six hundred, and announced to the count and countess 
 that they were freemen, and would pay no more frohn and tax. 
 This was on August 24, 1524. In a fortnight the six hundred had 
 swelled to four thousand. Before the end of the year nearly every 
 castle in the Schwarzwald was in flames. 
 
 In the towns, as in the country, the classes were originally 
 divided into patricians, freemen, and not-freemen. The patricians 
 were the nobility or gentry of the towns, owners of land in and 
 outside of the walls, those who lived not necessarily on trade, but 
 on their estates, and who formed the governing body of the town. 
 They were originally all of gentle blood ; but in time the masters 
 of the trades succeeded in working their way into the council, and 
 then bought their gentility of the Emperor. Thus it came about 
 that many patrician families were also engaged in trade. Fugger, 
 the weaver of Augsburg, though raised by Charles V. to be a 
 count, did not think it necessary to abandon his looms. When 
 asked to choose his arms, he humbly elected lilies, for " they toil 
 not, neither do they spin," and he hoped they would ever remind 
 his descendants of the humble origin of the house. Roth of Ulm 
 was a sugar-refiner, with factories in Italy and Spain. The 
 Croarias and Holbeins of Eavensburg in the fourteenth century 
 had paper-mills. An ox's head is the water mark by which paper 
 can be recognised that issued from the factory of the Holbeins. 
 The Welsers of Augsburg were great merchants; they bought 
 Venezuela, and Charles V. gave them a patent to allow them to 
 continue their business without derogation to their gentility. The 
 Ayrers of Heilbronn were dealers in saffron, the Weichsers of 
 Schaffhausen, who fought as knights at Sempach, were money- 
 changers. The Behm family of Augsburg were tile-burners. 
 
 But perhaps the most curious instance of the ruediteval view of 
 trade not being dishonouring to a noble is seen in the history of 
 Ludwig the Saint, Landgrave of Thuringia, who entered into a part- 
 
34 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 nership with a pedlar, and was able to clothe his court with his 
 annual profits. When the chapman's ass was stolen by some of 
 the vassals of the Bishop of Wurzburg, he made war upon the 
 bishop, and harried his land till the pedlar's ass was restored. 
 From the fifteenth century, however, the landed nobility began to 
 look down on the patricians, as a pack of grocers and weavers who 
 had no right to be reckoned as of gentle birth ; and they refused to 
 admit them to tournaments. In Augsburg and Basel, in 1474, the 
 chapters of the cathedrals, filled with younger sons of noble 
 families living on their country estates, by statute excluded a 
 citizen from ever enjoying a prebendal stall in their highly aris- 
 tocratic bodies. In former times members of patrician families 
 bad been Grand Masters of the Knightly Orders ; now they were 
 excluded. 1 
 
 For a long time the patricians monopolised the government of 
 the towns; but the trade-guilds formed a powerful organisation 
 against them, and forced their way into the Bath. A curious 
 instance may be given from the history of Strassburg. There two 
 rival families, the Zorns and the Miilnheimers, were the most 
 powerful in the city, and were mutually jealous. In 1321, Claus 
 Zorn complained in the town-council that the Eathhaus was much 
 nearer the tavern frequented by the Miilnheimers than that where 
 the Zorns drank their beer. The consequence was, that when a 
 motion was put to the vote, the whipper-in of the Miilnheimers 
 could call up his party, and carry it or throw it out, before the 
 Zorns arrived on the spot ; therefore Claus proposed that a new 
 town-hall should be built exactly halfway between the rival 
 taverns, and his proposal was actually carried and acted upon. 
 
 The quarrel between the two families burst out in full explosion 
 in 1332. There was a garden outside the walls of Strassburg 
 where the gentlefolks met to eat sausages, drink lager beer, and 
 dance or fight. In the year mentioned, eating, drinking, and 
 dancing one hot day led to a grand battle, in which two of the 
 Miilnheim faction were killed, and seven of that of the Zorns. 
 The Landvogt arrived on the scene, and endeavoured to put an 
 end to the strife, but failed. Numerous nobles of the neighbour- 
 hood flocked in, and threw themselves into the melee. The fight 
 
 1 The first Grand Master of the German Order was a Waldbot, the second a 
 Carpen, both citizens (patricians) of Bremen. 
 
The Lower Nubility. 35 
 
 waxed more furious, and the chief magistrates were powerless to 
 arrest it. Then the guilds met, entered the Bathhaus, took the 
 banner, keys, and seal of the city, by acclamation altered the con- 
 stitution of the council, which had befure been filled exclusively 
 by members of the ecclesiastical corporation and twenty-four 
 patricians, and then, with an armed band of apprentices, put down 
 the riot. They went further, and demolished the drinking-places 
 of the rival factions, and laid waste the pleasure-gardens where 
 they had danced and quarrelled. The town-council was variously 
 constituted after that, according as the guilds or the patricians 
 got the upper hand; but on the occasion mentioned the former 
 first succeeded in entering and breaking up the close corporation 
 of the Stadtrath. 
 
 In the fourteenth century the Emperors began to create nobles 
 by patents, for the same consideration that made James I. create 
 
 baronets. 
 
 Dat census honores, 
 Census amicitias; pauper ubique jacet. 
 
 The Emperor Wenceslas the Fool ennobled all kind of rabble. 
 Sigismund sold titles. Under his successor Ferdinand a chimney- 
 sweep was created a baron. It was the age of the Briefadel. 
 Patriciau families like those of Ebner, Kress, Haller, Behaim, 
 Holzschuher, Both, etc., some by patent, some without, adopted 
 the predicate " von," under the impression that this particle be- 
 tokened gentility; and they blossomed into Ebner von Eschen- 
 bach, Kress von Kressenstein, Haller von Hallerstein, Behaim von 
 Schwarzbach, Holzschuher von Aspach, Both von Schreckenstein, 
 after estates they had inherited or purchased. Others prefixed 
 the " von " to their family names, whether appropriately or not, 
 as " von Weber," " von Denzlinger," which are as absurd as " of 
 Weaver" and "of Londoner." Others, not having estates, have 
 taken the name of the place of their nativity as a territorial 
 title, as Schnorr von Carolstadt, Varnhagen von Ense. Many 
 bought or were granted baronial titles, and assumed the pearl 
 coronet of a Freiherr, who had never actually held a freehold. 
 Members of trade-guilds who had found their way into the council 
 of their town received patents of gentility ; they might put a "von " 
 before their names, and adopt a coronet of three strawberry-leaves 
 and two pearls. 
 
36 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 The grant of arms and the prefix of " von " in Germany was and 
 is precisely like the grant of arms made in England by the College 
 of Heralds, Avliich is also costly. But in England now any one 
 adopts arms, and tails his name with esquire, whether he have a 
 right or not to these distinctions. In Germany a man can scarcely 
 paint a coat on his carriage and put a " von " before his name, unless 
 he has an hereditary or an acquired right to both. The ordinary 
 gentleman, untitled, uses a coronet — by what right is perhaps 
 more easily asked than answered — which is the same as that we 
 attribute to a marquis, i.e. three strawberry-leaves and two pearls. 
 The coronet of a Margraf in Germany has three strawberry-leaves 
 and six pearls. The princes alone can raise a burger out of his 
 class and make a gentleman of him. They sometimes confer gen- 
 tility for life, so that the person ennobled bears the "von" befoie 
 his name, but his sons do not. 1 This personlicher Adel attends the 
 giving of an Order. The elevation of a citizen to be a gentleman 
 is noted in the official gazette and daily papers. 
 
 The old Freiherren were the ancient lauded gentry — in Swabia 
 and Franconia obtaining independence over their estates, like little 
 princes. In 1791 the Margravate of Anspach-Baireuth fell to 
 Prussia through the surrender of the last Margrave, Kail Fried- 
 rich, who married Lady Craven, after she had lived with him as 
 his mistress for some years. The two principalities were given a 
 new constitution, and the liberties of the free knights in them 
 were curtailed. Three independent barons were obliged to sur- 
 render their sovereignty over their little domains. The only 
 opposition encountered was in the cantons of Altmiihl and Gebirg. 
 Portions of Franconia and Swabia fell to Bavaria, portions swarm- 
 ing with these ''immediate" families. Their independence was 
 summarily abolished. Those in the Rhenish provinces were ex- 
 tinguished by Napoleon in 1805. 
 
 Since the surrender of the Imperial crown by Francis II. there 
 have been no fresh creations of Freiherren. Publishers, as Tauch- 
 nitz, chemists, as Liebig, tailors, as Stulz, have been made barons; 
 but a modern baron is not the equivalent of an ancient Freiherr. 
 A baron created by a Grand-Duke since the dissolution of the 
 Empire, has a right to bear a seven-pearled coronet, but the new- 
 
 1 Sometimes, if they maintain their father's position, they are allowed in 
 oourtesy to retain the " von ; " but they have no legal right to it. 
 
The Lower Nobility. 37 
 
 baked noble cannot take his place in the close aristocratic society 
 of the town he inhabits. The baron hovers in gauche discomfort 
 between the burger and the adel ; he is the bat of society, neither 
 altogether bird nor beast, and not an inviting specimen of either. 
 In the theatre he takes a loge in the first circle, instead of in the 
 biirger range of boxes, but he sits there uneasily ; he has lost his 
 old companions, and his new give him the cold shoulder. Princes, 
 like the Almighty, love to create out of nothing; but their 
 creations, unlike His, are not always "very good." The German 
 baron newly made stands on the same level as the English knight. 
 He is perhaps a gentleman by birth, he is more probably a success- 
 ful grocer or cornfactor. 
 
 During the Middle Ages the landed gentry had been a check 
 upon the princes. The latter could only exercise their sovereignty 
 with consent of the chambers in their provinces in the matter of 
 raising taxes and imposing laws. After the Thirty Years' war, 
 when the French fever set in over Germany, the princes sought 
 not merely to copy French fashions, but also French despotism. 
 The extravagance of their courts made it necessary for them to 
 impose huge burdens on their lands, and such imposition the 
 landed Freiherren opposed. The princes, therefore, set deliberately 
 to work to extirpate them. This they effected by degrees, by 
 involving them in extravagances, making them attend their courts 
 and there dissipate their fortune, and then buying their land. In 
 Oldenburg, at the beginning of the eighteenth century, there were 
 fifty-three noble estates, held by old families of gentle blood, the 
 Westerholz and Mundel, Mausingen and Fichenhold, Knigge, 
 Ehaden, Steding, and others. Nearly all qf these have died out or 
 lost their estates. Two that survive, the "Wehlaus and Westerloys, 
 have so sunk in the world that they are now represented by 
 farmers, and have abandoned their claim to be regarded as gentry. 
 In Anhalt Dessau, Prince Leopold, who married the apothecary's 
 daughter, bought up all the estates in his land, and those of the 
 nobility who demurred to sell he drove out of the principality, and 
 took their estates from them at a price he fixed. Thus he got rid 
 of the Barons von Grote, the Harslebens, Schillings, Krosigks, and 
 many others. The Prince of Bernburg did the same. He took 
 their lands from the von Geuderns, Erlachs, and Einsiedenlers, 
 etc. The same policy was pursued by the Prince of Kothen. He 
 
3S Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 also was not satisfied till he reigned alone over bauers, with a 
 nobility hanging about his court, and dependent on his bounty as 
 his chief foresters, marshals, chamberlains, etc. 
 
 In Schiller's letters we get a picture of the old landed gentry 
 as they were, and as they were being made. On December 8, 1787, 
 he wrote from Schwarzburg-Rudolstadt : " I have met in this neigh- 
 bourhood with some interesting families. For instance, in the 
 village of Hochheim is a noble family, consisting of five young 
 ladies — in all, ten persons — living in the old patriarchal way, or 
 reviving old knightly manners. No one in the family wears any- 
 thing which is not of home manufacture. Shoes, cloth, silk, all 
 the furniture, all the necessaries of life, and almost all its luxuries, 
 are grown or manufactured on the property, many by the hands of 
 the ladies, as in patriarchal days and in the times of chivalry. 
 The greatest exterior cleanliness and order, and even display and 
 beauty, please the eye ; of the ladies, some are young, and all are 
 simple and true, like the nature in which they live. The father 
 is a sturdy, honourable, landed noble, a famous sportsman, and a 
 generous host, and, I must add, an inveterate smoker. Two hours 
 distant, in a village, I have met with a house the reverse of this. 
 
 There lives the Chamberlain von S , J with his wife and nine 
 
 children, on an extravagant princely footing. In place of a house 
 they have a castle, in place of society they hold a court, instead of 
 plain dinner a dress dinner in French fashion. The wife is a 
 vaporous, false, intriguing creature, and hideous as falsehood, but 
 all in the best Parisian ton. The young lady is very pretty, but 
 the devil rules the mother, and would not let her permit the young 
 
 girl to travel with us. Herr von S is a dignified man of many 
 
 good and shining qualities, full of entertainment and propriety, 
 but a libertine to the highest degree. He is Charlotte's x uncle, 
 and he values her highly." 
 
 The European war was felt severely by the lesser German 
 nobility. Their estates had been burdened by extravagant living, 
 and they were ill-prepared for a season of invasion and its con- 
 sequent evils. On the Rhine, in Hesse, in Baden, in the Palatinate, 
 
 1 Herr von Stein in Volkershausen. Frau v. Stein was the aunt of Charlotte 
 von Kalb. 
 
 2 Charlotte von Kalb, who set her cap at Schiller, and ten years later at Jeau 
 Paul Richter. 
 
The Lower Nobility. 39 
 
 the Code Napoleon was introduced, and subdivision of property 
 was made compulsory. In Prussia, before this, Frederick William 
 had done Lis utmost to break up the properties and destroy the 
 privileges of the aristocracy, and fur much the same reasons as 
 other princes, because they interfered with despotic government. 
 
 But it was not only where the Code Napoleon was introduced, 
 that lands were divided and subdivided till the owners sank from 
 being nobles to bauers. Such a subdivision had been universal in 
 Germany ; fought against, indeed, in Westphalia and Saxony, but 
 prevailing freely elsewhere. Great houses had melted into a 
 hundred little farms. But in the seventeenth century it was fully 
 seen that this equal cutting-up of land was ruinous ; and every- 
 where the gentry weie adopting primogeniture or some other 
 system by which prope. ties might be held together. But it was 
 too late. The introduction of the Code Napoleon sealed the fate 
 of the gentry on the Rhine. Elsewhere they were ruined by the 
 events of 1848. 
 
 The revolution in that year produced an electrical effect in 
 Germany. On February 27, at a gathering at Mannheim, four 
 demands were made — freedom of the press, trial by jury, national 
 representation, and general conscription. A mass deputation 
 carried these demands on March 1 before the Baden Chamber. A 
 few days later the abolition of the privileges of the aristocracy, 
 and of the remains of feudal obligations, of copyholds and ground- 
 rents, was demanded. Speedily the whole of Germany was in 
 commotion ; the bauers joined the revolution started by town 
 republican clubs, with the double object of getting rid of ground- 
 rents and of expelling the Jews from the country. In the National 
 Assembly at Frankfurt a violent attack on the nobility was led by 
 Mohl, Rosier, and Jacob Grimm; and "the nobility as an order 
 was abolished " by a majority of fourteen. But whilst the National 
 Assembly was discussing the rights of man, natural equality, and 
 the bases of authority, the princes, who had cowered before the 
 storm, put their heads together and organised opposition. When 
 the deputation of the Assembly came to Cologne to meet the King 
 of Prussia, and lay before him its resolutions, Frederick William 
 curtly told them not to leave out of their calculations the fact that 
 there were princes in Germany, and that he was one of them. A 
 volley dispersed the rioters in Berlin ; the bauers grew suspicious 
 
40 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 of the town rabble, and sided with the sovereign. The revolution 
 came to an end; but it had left its victims, especially in the south. 
 The small sovereigns, in the agony of their alarm, had flung the 
 gentry to the wolves, and many were reduced to poverty by the 
 loss of their property in land. All rights of " frohn " were abso- 
 lutely abolished, without compensation to the lord of the manor; 
 and the State took measures to convert the copyhold land of the 
 bauer into a freehold estate, by making its ullodification compulsory 
 should the tenant be able and willing to commute. In Austria all 
 charges on land were abolished by a stroke of the pen on September 
 2, 1848. In Bavaria the work of aliodification was begun by a law 
 passed June 4, 1848 ; in Wiirtemberg on April 14, 1848 ; in Baden 
 on April 10 and July 31, 1848. In Kurhesseu all feufs, and ground- 
 rents, and charges on land, together with other manorial rights, 
 were abolished on August 26, 1848, the landlords receiving as 
 indemnity from 3 to 5 per cent, of the value of their estates. 
 This was done in Waldeck, in Sigmaiingen, in Saxe-Weimar, 
 and elsewhere. In almost every case all personal services were 
 done away with without compensation. To assist the peasants 
 in converting their farms into freeholds, the Saxon Government 
 established a fund for the redemption of the land, under Govern- 
 ment guarantee. In 1850, a similar bank was established in 
 Prussia. Baden and Hesse followed. The law for the estab- 
 lishment of "rent banks" provided the machinery for the whole- 
 sale redemption of the land. By it the State constituted itself 
 the broker between the peasants by whom the rent was paid and 
 the landlords who had to receive it. The bank established in 
 each district advanced to the latter in rent-debentures, paying 4 
 per cent, interest, a capital sum equal to twenty years' purchase. 
 The peasant paid into the bank each month a twelfth part of a 
 rent calculated at 5 or 4i per cent, on this capital sum, according 
 as he elected to free his property from incumbrance in forty-one or 
 fifty-six years, the respective terms within which, at compound 
 interest, the 1 or 1|- per cent., paid in addition to the 4 per cent, 
 interest on the debenture, would extinguish the capital. 
 
 As the greatest part of the estates of the gentry had been let, 
 there remained to them now only the home farm and the sum in 
 money they received from the State for their lands which had been 
 let and leased. This money came to them conveniently, at a time 
 
Tlie Lower Nobility. 41 
 
 when they were for the most part in debt, not having recovered 
 the exhaustive effects produced by the European war. The capital 
 disappeared, aud their sons are left with a little patch of land 
 about the ancestral castle, and no funds on which to keep up the 
 stately mansion. The result of the allodification has therefore 
 been to sever the gentry from the soil. They cannot live all the 
 year round in the country ; they go for a few weeks in the summer 
 to the schloss, carrying with them sufficient furniture, and there 
 they picnic for a while. They have lost their interest in the 
 peasants, and the peasants in them. They seek situations under 
 Government as judges, or make the army their profession, and 
 live in offices on their salaries rather than starve in their ancestral 
 halls. The Englishman living in Germany should remember this : 
 the biirger in office everywhere and at all times bears the title of 
 his office. Herr Gerber, when a judge, even in deshabille, is Herr 
 Obergerichtsrath ; but Herr von Stolzenfels drops the civil desig- 
 nation when he closes the door of the office ; he is then von Stol- 
 zenfels only, and it is an insult to entitle him Gericht&rath. In 
 the south of Germany, where the free imperial knights were most 
 numerous and most independent, their descendants are most im- 
 poverished and most dependent on State employ. In the north of 
 Germany the Freiherreu are still landed gentry, but they have 
 not cluug to old acres with the same tenacity as the nobles and 
 squires of England — probably they have not been able to do so. 
 In 1861 there were in all Prussia 12,543 knightly estates — that 
 is, estates belonging to gentle families — but of these only 39-4 
 had been in a family over a hundred years. In 1858, in the 
 Prussian House of Lords, there were only 77 landed proprietors 
 holding old family estates, the remaining 89 were life peers. 
 
 The Bavarian Constitution requires for the position of a herit- 
 able " Eeichsrath " an entailed landed estate paying at least 30/. 
 per annum in tax. The Wiirtemburg Constitution requires that 
 the landed proprietor shall have a net income from his estate of 
 300Z. These landed gentry elect a certain number of members to 
 the Upper House as their representatives. 
 
 In North Germany the landed gentry suffered by the allodifica- 
 tion of their farms, but not to the same extent as those in the 
 south ; the process was less rapid, and more moderate. In the 
 north the nobles are not unfrequently manufacturers ; dye-works, 
 
42 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 spinning-mills, distilleries, rise within a few yards of the castle. 
 The reaction after 1848 helped the Prussian nobility to obtain 
 some new privileges. 
 
 In Bavaria the noble families are allowed by law to found fresh 
 majorats, i.e. fresh families with entailed estates, carrying with 
 them titles and coronets and representation in the first chamber. 
 If an aristocracy is to be preserved, this seems the most reasonable 
 manner of letting it develop itself. 
 
 If the citizen and the peasant represent man alive to the con- 
 sciousness that he is a member of a family, the noble represents 
 man awake to the fact of the continuity of family life. The 
 aristocracy is the class invested with historic consciousness. The 
 citizen and bauer do not care a straw who were their grandfathers, 
 and have no thought for their grandchildren. A member of an 
 aristocratic class is full of interest respecting the past of his 
 family, and plants trees, and builds, not for himself, but for a future 
 generation. 
 
 In the German courts the nobility not mediatised were treated 
 with sovereign contempt. Frederic, the fat King of Wiirtetnbe rg, 
 the smallest of kings and the greatest of snobs, did his utmost to 
 drive the few that lingered on in Swabia out of his realm by 
 making residence in it intolerable. He published a decree that no 
 nobleman of his newly manufactured kingdom should be allowed 
 to leave his district for more than a week at a time without leave 
 of the " burger " functionaries of the parish. In 1810 the Minister 
 of the Interior, by gracious consent of his Majesty, issued the 
 following licence to a count : — " The Herr Graf is required by his 
 Majesty to spend at least three months in every year at the royal 
 residential city of Stuttgart. With respect to the remaining nine 
 months, should the count desire to reside on his own estates, his 
 Majesty accords his most gracious permission to him to do so. His 
 Majesty begs further to express his gracious hope that his sovereign 
 orders will meet with punctual attention. Should this hope be 
 disappointed, one quarter of the territorial receipts of the Herr 
 Graf will be confiscated to the royal treasury." 
 
 There is something not a little insulting in the way in which 
 the old landed gentry — counts and barons of as good, if not better 
 blood than their sovereigns — are treated when they visit court. 
 Their aristocratic rank is ignored ; military rank alone is recog- 
 
The Loiver Nobility. 43 
 
 nised. Bank throughout Germany is military, but certain civil 
 offices are reckoned as military offices. Thus a judge ranks as a 
 major-general, and a lord-in-waiting as a colonel. The princes of 
 the royal or grand-ducal family, and the mediatised princes in their 
 territory, are above rank. The following is the order of precedence 
 in a minor German court : — 
 
 1st class. "Excellencies." l 
 
 Generals in command of a division. 
 
 Generals in command of an army corps. 
 
 A minister-president of the House of Assembly (Stiindever- 
 
 sammlung). 
 An ambassador. 
 A privy councillor of the 1st class." 
 
 2nd class. " Metre Bang." 
 
 Major-general. 
 
 Geheimrath of the 2nd class. 
 
 Chief judge (President des Gerichtshafes). 
 
 First chamberlain. 
 
 State councillor (Staatsrath). 
 
 Bishop. 
 
 Prelate (Catholic or Protestant). 
 
 3rd class. " Chamberlains." 
 Colonel. 
 
 Lord-in- wai ting. 
 
 Privy councillor of legation (Geheime Le<rationsrath). 
 Privy councillor of war (Geheime Kriegsrath). 
 Assessor to a judge. 
 
 Appendix to 3rd class. 
 The landed gentry of whatever aristocratic title. 
 
 1 Once an "excellency," always an excellency; a general who has com- 
 manded an army corps, a president, etc., to the end of his days remains an " ex- 
 cellency ," and takes precedence, though out of office, of one in office. They rank 
 by order of service. 
 
 2 A Geheimrath was originally a member of the privy council of the sove- 
 reign. Now that constitutional government has become general, there is no privy 
 council. But those whom the sovereign delights to honour can be created 
 Geheimr'athe. The members of all government boards are Geheimr'athe of the 
 second class. No duties attach to the title of Geheimrath of the first class. 
 
44i Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 Ath class. " Lieutenant- Colonel Bank." 
 
 Lieutenant-colonel. 
 Geheirue Hofrath. 
 Geheirne Finanzrath. 
 G^lieinae Regierungsrath. 
 Ministerialrath. 
 Landescommissar. 1 
 
 5th class. " Page-in-Waiting Bank." 
 
 Page-in- Waiting. 
 Head forester. 
 Oberstaatsanwalt. 
 Canon of a cathedral. 
 Eegierungsrath. 
 Stadtdirektor. 
 
 In the first two classes the wives are " hoffahig," presentable at 
 court ; in the third class, presentable only if of gentle birth ; in 
 the fourth, not presentable at all. 
 
 Consequently a countess or baroness comes in at the very end 
 of the tail of presentable ladies. This arrangement sometimes 
 leads to awkwardness. In a certain German court a brother of the 
 sovereign is married to a baroness belonging to a family quite as 
 ancient, noble, and illustrious as that which by favour of Napoleon 
 I. sits now on the throne. The family was, however, never " im- 
 mediate." The marriage therefore was not " of equal birth," and 
 the sister-in-law of the sovereign could not appear at court as a 
 princess. At the same time there was a clever civilian, whom we 
 will call Herr Pumpernickel, who for his abilities was elevated by 
 the sovereign into a privy councillor of the 1st class, and was made 
 a gentleman of for life by the grant of a "von." His Excellency 
 Herr Geheimrath von Pumpernickel took rank in the first class. 
 Herr von Pumpernickel married a pretty young actress, and intro- 
 duced her at court, and the Frau Geheimrathin took rank in the 
 first class with him. But the sovereign's sister-in-law, being only 
 
 1 I leave many of these titles untranslated, because it is impossible to render 
 them into proper English equivalents. Many of them are purely honorary 
 titles. 
 
The Lower Nobility. 45 
 
 a baroness, came in as a landed proprietress in the appendix to the 
 third class, a very long way behind the little actress, who was 
 quite at home and happy in her place, and unconscious of the con- 
 fusion she caused in divers distinguished breasts. There was no 
 possibility of redressing the inconvenience. The only way for the 
 baroness to climb to the rank of excellencies above the head of the 
 Geheiniriithin would be by marrying a general officer, but that was 
 impossible, as she was married to the sovereign's brother. The 
 consequence was that she withdrew altogether from court. 
 
 The head of a princely family alone is called Fiirst, the other 
 brothers and sons are Prinzen. But the children of a count are 
 counts and countesses, and of a baron are barons and barouesses. 1 
 Every writer on the German nobility has urged the abandonment 
 of this senseless adhesion to titles by the junior branches of noble 
 families. It has a mischievous effect. In England, where only 
 the eldest son inherits the title of his father, the other members of 
 the family melt into the general mass of the English gentry, and 
 in another generation .are altogether one with it. In Germany the 
 retention of title by every one who derives from a noble famil}' 
 makes of the aristocracy a caste which associates only with its own 
 members, and is absolutely cut off from the class below. This 
 caste severance is the moie mischievous, because courtesy of man- 
 ner and gentlemanliness of feeling are both a tradition of the 
 aristocracy. It is because the burger has not associated with a 
 polished class, but been left to stew in his own fat, that he has 
 never been able to emancipate himself from mediaeval boorishness. 
 The incessant circulation of social currents in England keeps the 
 whole body sweet. 
 
 In Germany the classes are superposed as geologic strata. 
 Carrara marble lies on millstone grit. Porphyry pierces beds of 
 pudding-stone without transforming it. 
 
 It is a great misfortune to the country that the gentry are dis- 
 sociated from the land. The bauers are left without a civilising 
 and softening element in their midst. Just before the French 
 Revolution the landed gentry had everywhere built themselves 
 houses in the very midst of the people, not cut off from them by 
 
 1 In Northern Germany, when by family compact the chief part of the estate 
 goes to the eldest son, only the eldest son of a count assumes the title of Graf, 
 the other sons are barons. 
 
4G Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 parks as in England, but with the windows looking into the very 
 village street. There was evidently a desire among them to live 
 on a kindly footing with the peasants. These houses are now 
 deserted, or tenanted only for a couple of months in the summer. 
 Of the ways of the peasants, of their domestic sorrows and suffer- 
 ings, the family at the schloss know nothing and care nothing. 
 For the schloss and village are not the home, only the hotel for the 
 " sommerfrische." Of the friendly, affectionate intercourse between 
 the poor in a parish and the " quality " at the Hall — so common, 
 so pathetic, that exists everywhere in England where there is a 
 resident squirearchy — Germany knows nothing. 
 
 "We lament, in England, the cleavage between the classes, but 
 it is nothing to that which exists in Germany. A separation of 
 classes is mischievous in every way, for every class can and ought 
 to learn from the other. In America, where there are no classes, 
 the result is that every man and woman lives for, and thinks of, 
 self only. There is isolation of interests and disregard of others. 
 In Germany the severance of classes produces a similar result ; but 
 in Germany it leads not to self-glorification but to class glorifica- 
 tion. The bauer thinks himself everything, and hates the citizen. 
 The citizen despises the bauer and the noble, and the nobles live 
 in their narrow exclusive circle, in which they waste their energies 
 in sighing over an irrecoverable past. 
 
 The German lesser nobility — that is, the gentry — are no longer 
 a power in the realm. Here and there in every town they are 
 to be found scattered about in the Government offices, or turning 
 their castles into distilleries of turnip-brandy or potuto-schnaps, 
 but still associating and marrying only within their sacred circle. 
 In no country have the gentry been so utterly crushed out as in 
 Germany, not even in France. They have had since the fifteenth 
 century two deadly foes working their destruction — the princes, 
 who were jealous of them, and their own improvidence, in sub- 
 division of their estates among their sons. The princes have 
 trampled them down and insulted them, that they might be left 
 alone on the earth to deal with the ignorant peasantry. In 1848 
 they felt what it was to be without a class to stand between them 
 and the rabble. Nowhere did the bauer revolution rage more 
 savagely than in Anhalt, where the* landed gentry had been ex- 
 terminated to a man. 
 
( 47 ) 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 THE LAWS OF SUCCESSION. 
 
 Orlando. I know you are my eldest brother ; and, in the gentle condition of 
 blood, you should so know me. The courtesy of nations allows you my better, in 
 that you are the first-born ; but the same tradition takes not away my blood, 
 were there twenty brothers betwixt us : I have as much of my father in me as 
 you ; albeit, I confess, your coming before me is nearer to his reverence. 
 
 As You Like It, act i. sc. 1. 
 
 The earliest conception of property among the Germans attached 
 only to movables. The land belonged to all; bnt not so the 
 sheep and oxen, they had owners; not so the tent and trinkets, 
 they were personal propert} 7 . When men were few and the world 
 was wide before them, land was not sufficiently esteemed to be 
 parcelled out. A house-father moved with his herds from a 
 feeding -ground, after it had been cleared, to fresh pastures. But 
 it was otherwise when men settled and tilled the soil. Then the 
 byre — the house and the cultivated patch of land just round it 
 — were held to be property — the property, however, of a family 
 and not of a person. 
 
 From very early times a sharp distinction was drawn between 
 real and personal property ; land, real property (liegende Habe), 
 never belonged to the individual ; he had it in usufruct, never as 
 his own ; but movables (fahrende Habe) were allowed to belong to 
 the individual. 
 
 Eoman law drew no distinction between possession and property. 
 What man had in possession, over that he exercised uncontrolled 
 and absolute right. German law never allowed this to apply to 
 land. The land a man enjoyed the possession of belonged to his 
 family, and he had but a life-interest in it. 
 
48 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 In England, at the Conquest, William confiscated the estates 
 of those who had opposed his invasion. He granted the land to 
 his Norman followers. But the lands thus granted were not driven 
 freely and for nothing; they were given to hold of the king 
 .subject to the performance of certain military duties as the con- 
 dition of the enjoyment of them. The king was considered as 
 in some sense the proprietor, and was called the lord paramount ; 
 while the services to be rendered were regarded as incident or 
 annexed to the tenure of the land ; in fact, as the rent to be paid 
 for it. This feudal system of tenures, or holding from the king, 
 was soon afterwards applied to all other lands, although they had 
 not been granted out, but remained in the hands of the original 
 Saxon owners. 
 
 The feudal doctrine of tenures invaded Germany also, and 
 cu'iously modified the Teutonic tenet that land belonged to the 
 family, or, more correctly speaking, was itself modified by the 
 latter. 
 
 The crown lands were given in feof. The noblps in like 
 manner gave their lands to farmers free or servile. But when 
 once the plough of the new tenant had turned the soil, and his 
 hand had put thatch on the roof, the farm and house became the 
 property of his family under the lordship of the nobleman. The 
 ruling principle of property rights in German law rests on the 
 right of a man to enjoy the fruits of his labour. The bride, in 
 like manner, takes possession of her future abode, by kindling a 
 fire on the hearth, chopping up wood in the stack-yard, and salting 
 the soup in the cauldron. With this principle is bound up 
 another, i.e. that man is not an unit isolated in the world, but that 
 he is a member of a family ; that the family, and not the indi- 
 vidual, is the unit in the commonwealth. Consequently when a 
 man tills the soil it is not for himself, but for the family, just 
 as truly as when the bride salts the soup, it is not for her own 
 eating, but for the household over which she is the newly-crowned 
 queen. 
 
 What St. Paul taught as a new revelation to the civilised 
 Roman world : " The body is not one member, but many. If the 
 foot shall say, Because I am not the hand, I am not of the body ; 
 is it therefore not of the body?" — this doctrine of the Apostle was 
 so thoroughly ingrained in the convictions of the Teutonic people 
 
The Laivs of Succession. 49 
 
 before they embraced Christianity, that it has influenced their 
 whole sucial development, and ruled their relations to property. 
 
 When a nobleman, therefore, gave land to a bauer, free or 
 villein, he gave it for ever. He lust all power of expelling the 
 family from the house and farm in which he had settled them. 
 They paid him a rent in services of various sorts; the bauer tilled 
 his home farm for him, sent his children into service in the castle, 
 paid dues on their marriages, offered a goose at Michaelmas; and 
 so long as the bauer family rendered its services, and had a stalwart 
 son to hold the plough, its tenure of the farm was unassailable. 
 The farmer could divide it among his children, or leave it to only 
 one. He could dispose of it in his family, and in many cases, with 
 consent of his heirs, even out of his family, freely ; for by his toil 
 he had acquired a right of property in it, equal to, if not above, 
 that of his over lord. 
 
 In close connection with the distinction drawn between the 
 ownership and usufruct of land, is the distinction between pro- 
 perty inherited (Erbe, Fr. propres) and acquired (Errungenschaft, 
 Fr. acquets), which came to be recognised in the second period of 
 German legislation. What a man had himself acquired by his 
 own labour and energy, over that he was allowed free disposal, 
 but that which came to him from the family, of that he had only 
 the use during his life. It was not his own ; it belonged to the 
 family of which he was a member, to the chain in which he was a 
 link. The same doctrine prevailed in England. By the laws of 
 Canute testamentary disposal of movable property was alone 
 allowed. By the laws of Henry I. this distinction was drawn : 
 '• Let a man bestow what he has acquired on whom he will, but 
 if he has bookland inherited from his parents, let him not bestow 
 it beyond the family." Indeed is was not till the reign of Henry 
 VIII. that testators were allowed to dispose of part of their real 
 estate inherited by them from their fathers. 
 
 In Germany the right of the family to the land was most 
 closely guarded. Movable property might pass freely from hand 
 to hand, real property never without legal formalities. Women 
 and serfs might inherit and devise the former, serfs could not 
 hold and bequeath allodial land, neither for a while could women. 
 The great-grandfather had cleared a piece of ground, the grand- 
 father had tilled it, the father had hedged it in, the son drained 
 
 E 
 
50 Germany, Present a'nd Past. 
 
 it. One generation entered on the labours of another. Tlie 
 land was made fat with the sweat of generations. It was just 
 that it should remain in the hands of the family which had given 
 it its present value — of the family whose ancestors' hands had 
 planted every fruit-tree, and feet had trodden every furrow. The 
 grandson must not alienate it by imprudence, allow it to relapse 
 into wilderness, leave the vines unpruned and the garners un- 
 thatched. Consequently he was always liable to " impeachment 
 for waste ; " and the testamentary alienation of allodial land was 
 never allowed. The land was never regarded as individual pro- 
 pert}'. Tacitus, it may be remembered, noticed that the Germans 
 made no wills. 1 The children entered as their right on what their 
 fathers had enjoyed for life. When the Roman custom of making 
 wills was introduced, it was resented as an invasion of the rights 
 of the natural heirs, and was forbidden by the Laws of Rothar. 2 
 An Alemannic population, that has been secluded among the Alps 
 from the intrusion of foreign ideas, has persevered to the present 
 day in its opposition to testamentary dispositions. In Unterwalden 
 — and I believe it is the same in Uri and Schwyz — to make a will 
 is to this day illegal, and a testator has no power even over his 
 movables and acquisitions. A gift made within a month of 
 decease is invalid. 3 A curious instance came under my notice. 
 A priest in Unterwalden, before his death, gave his old house- 
 keeper the cheeses in his dairy, as a little recognition for her 
 unwearied devotion during a long and distressing illness — he died 
 of cancer in the face. He was dead before thirty days had elapsed, 
 and his nephews extorted the cheeses from the old woman, and 
 made her pay for one which she had disposed of to her poor 
 relations. 
 
 In the second period of German legislation, when Roman 
 civilisation began to exercise a powerful influence over Teutonic 
 institutions, testamentary disposition of property was permitted 
 to those who died without issue. 4 Benefactions to the Church were 
 tolerated rather than approved. The earliest wills show by their 
 structure how little reliance was laid on their legality, and the 
 
 1 " Nullum testamentum." — German, c. 20. 2 Lex Rothar. 360. 
 
 3 It is so in Scotland now. A will is invalid unless a man has appeared at 
 kirk and market after its signature. 
 
 4 Lex Wisigoth. iv. 2, 20. 
 
The Laws of Succession. 
 
 attempt was made to give them that effect which they lacTr ~ 
 law, by an appeal to the superstitious terrors of the heirs. They 
 were weighted with curses as terrible as the anathema that fell 
 on the Jackdaw of Eheiuis — curses which were to fall on the head 
 and body and limbs of the heir-at-law should he fail to comply 
 with the injunctions of the testator. 
 
 In the reigns of Henry I. and Otto the Great wills were not 
 uncommon among the nobility, but it was not till the fifteenth 
 century that they were made by the third estate. That land 
 might be retained as long as possible in a family, women were 
 not allowed to inherit till all the male descendants had died out. 
 "In laud," say the Salic and Buigundian laws, "woman has no 
 inheritance." By the laws of the Angles land passed " from the 
 sword to the spindle " 1 only in the fifth degree. In Denmark the 
 exclusion of women from succession lasted till the beg-innino- of 
 the eleventh century. In Sweden Eric the Saint (d. 11 GO) decreed 
 that daughters should inherit a third, and Birger Jarl (d. 1260) 
 raised their share to a half. Among the Anglo Saxons bookland 
 (allodial land) was allowed to pass to a woman, but not so folk- 
 land. 
 
 But by degrees the " impia consuetudo " 2 of excluding the 
 daughters from the inheritance of their fathers gave way before 
 a just appreciation of woman's position, brought in by Christianity. 
 Wisigoth law allowed daughters to inherit equally with suns; 3 
 and Chilperic, by edict, in 574, removed female disabilities to 
 inherit in the Frank Empire. 4 
 
 Lombard law was peculiar. Legitimate sons inherited to the 
 exclusion of all others, but were obliged to give a fixed sum to 
 their sisters and natural brothers. When there was no son, the 
 daughters and sisters of the deceased divided, but a portion fell to 
 the nearest male relative on the father's side. 
 
 In the Middle Ages land was divided between sword and 
 spindle. On the Middle and Upper Khine, the sons took two- 
 
 1 But movables went to the daughter after the son, then to the sister, lastly 
 to the mother of the deceased. 
 
 2 Marculf, Form. ii. 12. 3 Lex Wisigoth. iv. 2. 
 
 4 " De terra vero nulla in muliere hereditas est " — Lex Sal. 59, 4. Later 
 recensions inserted "Salica" before terra, to exclude her only from the hall 
 estate, tlie land that went with the ancestral title and position. 
 
52 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 thirds, the daughters one-third. On the Lower Rhine and in part 
 of Switzerland the sons had a half and the daughters a half; but 
 in Swahia and in a great part of Germany the division was by heads. 
 
 As the land belonged, not to the individual in possession of it, 
 but to the family, he could not part with it without the consent 
 of all those who had any expectation of inheriting it, or part of it. 
 In the North of Germany, adelsland, i.e. land which had been in 
 the same family for six generations in direct succession, or which 
 had been received in feof from the king, or which had been 
 acquired by exchange for other allodial land, or which had been 
 received as Wehrgeld, was held to be absolutely inalienable from a 
 family. By Burgundian 1 and Bavarian 2 law a man could not 
 dispose of his estate without the unanimous consent of all his sons. 
 In Sweden every memher of the family alive was required to give 
 his consent before an estate could be alienated. In Germany dire 
 necessity (Schiefnotli) alone allowed a man to sell his paternal 
 acres. For instance, if the possessor of an estate fell into captivity, 
 he was allowed to sell his land without the consent of his heirs for 
 the purpose of redeeming himself. Later, he might alienate, if he 
 took oath that without the sale of the land he could not pay his 
 debts. 8 This was the pauvrete juree of French law. But here, 
 again, the law intervened to assist the family in recovering its 
 ancestral fields. If the purchaser intended to resell the land, the 
 heir of the original holder must have the first offer; and unless he 
 formally refused to purchase, the sale could not take place ; and if 
 the heir or original owner could produce the sum for which the 
 land was sold within a year and a day of the sale, the purchaser 
 was bound to restore it. This was the retractatus bursae or 
 gentilitius — the retrait lignager of French law. As late as the 
 sixteenth century this law was universal in Germany. It was 
 only abolished at the Revolution in France. Mortgage of a 
 property was as inadmissible as alienation, except under the same 
 conditions — consent of heirs or necessity. 
 
 These laws applied not only to the land held by the nobles, but 
 to that of the peasant as well, and the bauer clung to his ancestral 
 farm with as much tenacity as the noble to his castle, — with more 
 indeed — the former holds fast still, the latter has let go. 
 
 1 Lex Burgund. i. 2. 2 Lex Bajuv. i. 1. 
 
 • Lex Saxon, xvii. ; Sachsen-Syiegel, i. 52, 21 ; Schwaben- Spiegel, 312, etc. 
 
The Laws of Succession. 5'6 
 
 But though landed property was thus secured to a family, it 
 was not indivisible. On the contrary, it was, throughout a great 
 part of Germany, divided equally among the sons, or among the 
 sons and daughters in equal or different proportions according to 
 their sex. 
 
 The Salic 1 and Alemannic 2 laws speak of the division of an 
 estate among many sons. This was not, however, always possible, 
 especially among the bauers. Among them it was customary to 
 leave the farm to one son, and divide the profits, hoarded through 
 many years, among the others. As the most general custom 
 was for the youngest son to inherit the farm, the elder children 
 were portioned off before the death, of the father. But of this 
 presently. 
 
 In the Middle Ages there were two codes of law governing the 
 relations of holders to the soil — the feudal law (Lehnrecht), and the 
 land law (Landrecht). These codes favoured distinct modes of 
 inheritance. 
 
 Feudalism demanded primogeniture. An office given by the 
 king could not be divided among several ; it must be held by one 
 man. With the office went crown land in feof. The office and 
 lands once given became hereditary in a family in tail male. The 
 eldest son invariably succeeded to both the office and the crown 
 feof. But almost always a crown vassal had also allodial estates 
 in his use, which he had inherited from his ancestors. When he 
 died, his feudal tenures went by feudal law to his eldest son, and 
 the family es'ates by land-right were partitioned equally among 
 all his sons. The Landrecht did not recognise primogeniture. 
 
 In 1036 died Frederic I., Count Palatine of Saxony. His eldest 
 son (not in orders) succeeded to the Palatinate, but his family 
 property was equally partitioned among his three sons. Welf IV., 
 Duke of Bavaria, was succeeded in the duchy by his eldest son, 
 Welf V. ; but Welf V. shared the family estate equally with his 
 brother, Henry the Black. Henry the Proud, in 112(3, followed his 
 father as sole Duke of Bavaria; but Swabia fell to his brother, 
 Welf VI. 
 
 Very often estates were divided by lot. 
 
 In the thirteenth century the families holding feofs had come 
 to regard their feudal tenures as inalienable family property, to 
 1 Lex Sal. lix. 2, 5. * Lex Alaman. 88. 
 
54 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 be dealt with and divided like their allodial lands. And we begin 
 then to find the eldest brother retain the title only, and the lands, 
 feudal and allodial, thrown into one lump and divided among the 
 brothers " a3qna lance." 
 
 By feudal law descendants alone succeeded; there was no 
 succession by ascendants} 
 
 German feudal right excluded daughters and female de- 
 scendants ; it instituted a purely agnatic descent. 
 
 Rarely were princely families able to have recourse to that 
 convenient institution of the land-right, the " gesammte Hand," to 
 interfere in favour of ascendants ; they were, however, successful 
 in obtaining in several instances succession of tenures in tail male 
 to their daughters' husbands. 
 
 Leutolf obtained the duchy of Swabia after the death of his 
 father-in-law, Duke Hermann I. ; he had married Ida, the duke's 
 daughter, and as there was no son, the feof reverted to the 
 crown, but the Emperor invested Leutolf with it afresh. Again, 
 Hermann III. died without male issue in 1012, and the Emperor, 
 Henry II., gave the dukedom to Ernest I., who had married the 
 sister of the late duke. 
 
 Frederic III., Burgrave of Niivnberg, fearing that he should 
 die without male issue, obtained a special concession from the 
 Emperor (1213) that his office and feudal lands might pass to a 
 daughter. The Count of Guelders wrung a similar privilege from 
 the Emperor Adolfus in 1295. 
 
 It was quite otherwise with land-right. In the twelfth and 
 thirteenth centuries daughters inherited estates, and carried them, 
 as heiresses, into other families. 
 
 In the county of Wertheim reigned two brothers simultaneously, 
 Poppo IV. and Rudolf II. Poppo left behind him no sous, but 
 three daughters ; and these, as his heiresses, divided the Wertheim 
 estates with their uncle, and each took a sixth of the county as her 
 portion. When the ducal line of Zahringen expired in male tail, 
 the Margrave of Baden, though closely allied in blood, did not 
 succeed to the territories of the duke ; they were taken by his 
 daughters into the families into which they married. 
 
 1 " De consuetudine imperii non succedit nisi filius descendens, imo revertitur 
 fendum ad imperatorem. ISic vidi hoc quando fieri in Aleniannia, per proceres 
 judicari." — Card. Hosliensis: Summa de feudis (13th cent.). 
 
The Laws of Succession. 55 
 
 By land- right, as already said, no alienation of family property 
 was allowed to the greatest duke or the humblest yeoman, without 
 the consent of his heirs presumptive. 
 
 In 1221, Hermann von der Lippe made a religious foundation 
 " with the consent of his wife, his sons, his daughters, his brother's 
 son, and all his heirs." Had one of these withheld consent, the 
 foundation could not have been made. 
 
 In 996, Adela, daughter of Count Wichmann, appealed against 
 a religious bequest of her father, because it had been made without 
 her leave, and the Emperor Otto III. restored the estate to her. 
 The Elector Palatine, Ehrenfried, and his wife Mathilda, founded 
 and endowed the Abbey of Braunweiler. Their children reclaimed 
 the land as an illegal alienation, their consent not having been 
 given, and they gained their cause. 
 
 As might have been anticipated, the interminable division and 
 subdivision of estates brought many princely and countly families 
 to ruin. They sank out of consideration, and disappeared. The 
 disintegration would have been more rapid had not the wars 
 which raged in Germany swept away so many heirs expectant, 
 and reduced the number of those among whom an estate was 
 ultimately split up. But when the military profession ceased to 
 absorb the scions of noble houses, and the sword to consume th^m, 
 the consequences of unbounded subdivision came to be felt St riously. 
 Land-right took a lesson from feudal right. One member of the 
 family was constituted its head and rallying-point ; to him the 
 estate was made over entire, and the rest of the family contented 
 themselves with annuities, or appanages. But it was not the 
 sword only which had reduced the number of heirs to a barony 
 and county. The Church had been utilised by the nobility for the 
 same purpose. Almost every great house had an abbey or a 
 convent which it had endowed, and which could accommodate the 
 junior sons, and the daughters it cuuld not afford to jortion. 
 Cathedral chapters, mitred monasteiies, received into them none 
 who were not nobly born. He who would renounce the world 
 must first prove his pedigree. In Wiirzburg were twenty-four 
 canons and thirty vicars choral ; at Bamberg twenty canons and 
 fourteen minor canons; and none could be received into these 
 chapters who could not trace blue blood through eight descents on 
 both father's and mother's sides. In vain did the Popes protest, 
 
56 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 under colour of love for religion, actually because these aristocratic 
 strongholds were closed to their Italian favourites. 
 
 The Reformation led to the secularisation of a vast number of 
 religious houses and the appropriation of their lauds by the 
 Protestant princes. These were left, after the first excitement 
 and exultation of appropriation, face to face in aggravated form 
 with the difficulty of providing for their younger sons. 
 
 In 1356 the Golden Bull of Charles IV. had subjected the 
 feofs of the electors to the law of primogeniture. Several of the 
 princes of the Empire thereupon established the same law in their 
 families, but it was not effected at once, or generally, or without 
 difficulty. No such law could be passed without the consent of 
 all the sons, and the consent of juniors to disinherit themselves 
 was not always to be obtained. 
 
 But the principality of Liineburg was made inheritable by 
 the first-born in 1356; primogeniture was introduced into the 
 Palatinate in 1368, and again confirmed in 1378. Into Branden- 
 burg it penetrated in 1473, into Wtirtemberg in 1482, into Bavaria 
 in 1506. In the territories of the Albertine line of Saxony it was 
 introduced as early as 1499; in Austria not till 1587. It was 
 only when the Saxon princely families were seen to be broken up 
 and sinking into a wreck of splinters, that they adopted primo- 
 geniture, Saxe- Weimar in 1719, Saxe- Weimar-Eisenach in 1724, 
 Saxe-Altenburg in 1715, Saxe-Meiningen-Hildburghausen in 1801, 
 llesse-IIomburg in 1626, and Hesse-Cassel in 1620. 
 
 It is hardly matter of surprise that those families which were 
 the first to admit the principle of primogeniture, and keep their 
 territories together, are the only ones which have survived 
 mediatisation. All the others had fallen into such small portions 
 that their independence was suppressed in 1808. 
 
 The house of Bentheim had estates of some extent. Arnold IV., 
 who died in 1606, left five sons, who divided them among them. 
 Only two of the six branches now survive. 
 
 Duke Ernest I. of Saxony had seven sons, and he saw that if 
 he divided Saxony among them, the dignify of the family as well 
 as its power would suffer. He meditated the introduction of 
 primogeniture, but was dissuaded by his court preacher, who 
 quoted to him the text, "If children, then heirs." But the fate 
 of Saxony, and of the House of Saxony, was sealed earlier. 
 
The Laivs of Succession. 57 
 
 Frederic the Elector left two sons, Ernest and Albert, who, in 
 1485, divided the inheritance of their father. Ernest took 
 Thuringia, half of the Osterland and Naumburg, the Electorate, 
 the Vogtland, the Franconian possessions of the family, and the 
 duchy of Saxony. Albert took Meissen, and the second half of 
 Eastern Saxony, all of which he left to his eldest son. But Ernest 
 did not introduce the right of primogeniture, and the possessions 
 of the Ernestine line were broken up. Ernest I. (born 1601), who, 
 as already said, purposed its introduction, was one of ten sons; 
 and he left seven—all heirs. The Ernestine line dissolved into 
 Saxe-Altenburg, Saxe- Weimar, Saxe-Eisenach, Saxe-Gotha, Saxe- 
 Coburg, Saxe-Meiningen, Saxe-Romheld, Saxe-Eisemberg, Saxe- 
 Hildburghausen, and Saxe-Saalfeld, whereas the younger Albertine 
 line is now nyal. Had Frederic II. but introduced primogeniture 
 into his family at the same time as the Elector of Brandenburg, 
 Saxony, and not Prussia, would have been the head of the 
 Germanic Empire. The breaking up of the Ernestine line into 
 parcels, patches, pinches of principalities, has been the ruin of a 
 great people, and has robbed it of its right prerogative, the head- 
 ship of Germany. 
 
 The disastrous effects of unlimited subdivision of property are 
 now fully realised by the upper nobility of Germany, and they 
 have taken precautions against it. 
 
 There are four modes whereby estates are kept together by 
 settlement: — 1. Primogeniture, the right of the eldest son, or, in 
 the event of his death before his father, his eldest son, to succeed 
 to the undivided landed estate. 2. Majority, the right of the eldest 
 of the near male relations to succeed. 3. Seniority, the right of 
 the eldest male relative, without regard to closeness of relationship. 
 4. Secundo and Tertiogeniture, the giving of appanages to the 
 younger sons for life ; which revert on their death to the family 
 estate. 
 
 Majority and seniority (majorat and seniorat) require some 
 further explanation and illustration, as they are not English 
 institutions like primogeniture, with which we are familiar. 
 
 I. Among descendants. — A is Count of Stolzenegg, leaving two 
 sons, B and C. If D, the eldest son of B, dies before his father, 
 then, if the right of primogeniture be established in the family, 
 the title and territory and estate will pass to G, the eldest grand- 
 
58 
 
 Gernoany, Present and Past 
 
 son of B. But if the law of succession adopted "be that of Majority, 
 E, the second son, will become Count of Stolzenegg, and inherit 
 the undivided property. But, if Seniority be the family right, 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 «T 
 
 then C, the brother of B, will become Count, to the exclusion of D, 
 the grandson, and E and F, the sons of the deceased. 
 
 II. Among ascendants. — If E dies after his brother F and F's 
 eldest son Gr, then, by right of primogeniture, the county and 
 coronet of Stolzenegg pass from B to K, his great nephew ; but, by 
 right of Majority, it would go to H, the second nephew. By right 
 of Seniority, however, it would go to D, the son of C — that is, 
 supposing C to be dead. But if C be alive, then, both by right of 
 Majority and of Seniority, he would succeed E. 
 
 B 
 
 E 
 
 F 
 
 G 
 
 H 
 
 C 
 
 D 
 
 K L 
 
 The inheritance of an estate by Majority or Seniority has this 
 advantage (!), that he who succeeds to the fortune of the deceased 
 is not legally responsible for his debts, which is not the case when 
 the succes-or is the eldest son; therefore Majodty or Seniority is 
 regarded as much stronger than primogeniture for keeping up the 
 fortunes of a family, and is therefore much affected by the great 
 houses of Germany. 
 
 The Count of Dyhrn now enjoys the " Majorats " of Laasan 
 
The Laivs of Succession. 59 
 
 and of Ober-Glogau ; the Prince Sulkowsky is also in possession of 
 two, the " Majorate " of Ruchelna and that of Reisen. 
 
 Secundogeniture is the giving a life-interest in an estate 
 belonging to the family to a second son. Tertiogeniture is a 
 similar provision for the third son. In the House of Hapsburg, 
 the Grand Duchy of Tuscany was an appanage held by the second 
 son, till it was incorporated in the Kingdom of Italy. 
 
 The German " Fideicommiss " is much the same as the English 
 entail of property. It is a legal creation of the seventeenth 
 century, and is a curious instance of the way in which Roman 
 right was twisted to accommodate German principles of landed 
 tenure. We have seen that throughout the Middle Ages the 
 doctrine was held that land belonged to the family, and that the 
 possessor of it for the time being had only a life-interest in it — a 
 doctrine quite foreign to Roman law. A Fideicommiss now means 
 an estate which has been legally constituted an entail, with 
 succession either by primogeniture or by " Minorat," or by 
 " Majorat," or by Seniority. A Fideicommiss can at any time be 
 founded by the " Familienrath," or family council, constituted of 
 all the members of the family. By similar judgment of the family 
 council, ratified by the board which registered the foundation of 
 the Fideicommiss. the entail can be cut off. The possessor of the 
 entailed estate has little power over it; he cannot sell or mortgage 
 it, and is liable to " impeachment for waste " should he cut down 
 timber excessively, or in other ways injure it in value, or allow it 
 to deteriorate. The Count of Dohna sits in the Prussian Court of 
 Nobles and House of Lords in virtue of being the holder of the 
 Fideicommiss of Schlobitten, Lauch, Schlodien-Carwinden, and 
 Reichertswald ; the Count of Dyhrn for the entailed lordships of 
 Neu-Hardenlierg, Klein Oels, Mittelwald, and Reisewitz. The 
 Count of Taczanowo holds his Grafschaft by Fideicommiss. In 
 Germany, in the Middle Ages, the upper nobility had their own 
 code of laws, the Fiirstenrecht. Though mediatised, they still 
 enjoy great legal privileges of establishing family laws, which are 
 allowed to have legal force. The family law (Fainilienpact) is 
 passed by the family gathered in council, and it affects everything 
 in which the house has a common interest, as the succession to 
 titles and estates, the marriages of its members, and the authority 
 more or less dictatorial accorded to the nead. His consent with- 
 
60 Germany, Present and Pant. 
 
 holden may invalidate a marriage. I know a case of a member of 
 the upper ten thousand who married a lady not of equal rank with 
 himself. The marriage could not have been solemnised by Board 
 or priest, without the consent of the head of the house having been 
 given in writing; and that was only granted when he had signed 
 away every claim he might have to the titles and estates of the 
 family, both for himself and his son, and undertook to bear 
 thenceforth only his family name, with no other mark of rank than 
 the prefix " von." Should liis elder brother die childless, neither 
 he nor his son could succeed ; they are cut out of the family-tree 
 legally as well as heraldically, and the title and coronet would 
 pass over his head to his nephew by a younger brother. 
 
 The German Bundesact (Art. 14) gives this autonomy and 
 right of passing family statutes to the houses of the mediatised 
 princes and counts. When a statute has been passed, it can only 
 be repealed by an unanimous vote of the family council. A 
 majority of voices can neither make a law nor abrogate one. In 
 France all family pacts are illegal. The House of Nassau, in 1783, 
 drew up a most elaborate code of family institutes, which were 
 ratified and renewed in 1814. But the most remarkable of all was 
 the family code of Napoleon I., signed March 30, 1806, by which 
 all the sovereigns of his family were subjected to his paternal 
 authoritj? and supervision ; and it was provided that in case of dis- 
 obedience he might throw them into prison and keep them there 
 for a twelvemonth. 
 
 One institution of German right never took root among the 
 aristocracy ; this was the " gesammte Hand," already alluded to, 
 but not explained. Before describing it, it is necessary to review 
 the laws and customs relating to the property of married women. 
 
 When a woman married, she brought with her to her husband's 
 house a dower, given her by her parents (Aussteuer). This con- 
 sisted sometimes of two parts, the " Heimsteuer " and the " Leibge 
 dinge." The "Heimsteuer" was her contribution towards the 
 furnishing of the house, and the clothing and adorning of her own 
 person. It comprised almost always the linen. Amongst out selves 
 an unmarried woman is termed a spinster, because she is supposed 
 to be engaged in the days of her maidenhood in spinning and 
 weaving the linen for her future house. In Germany to the pre- 
 sent day the wife is expected to furnish the new house, not only 
 
 
The Laivs of Succession. 61 
 
 with sheets and towels, but with pots, pans, chairs, beds, and 
 tables. This, then, is the " Heimsteuer," in the sense of her con- 
 tribution towards the stocking the new home. It means more. 
 She must bring with her clothes and jewels suitable to her rank. 1 
 The former part of the " Heimsteuer " falls under the law of the 
 "gesammte Hand." It goes into the common stock, and neither 
 husband nor wife can dispose of any article that was comprised in 
 it without the consent of the other and of the children. But her 
 clothes and ornaments belong exclusively to the woman, and the 
 husband cannot touch them. It was thought a thing monstrous 
 and illegal when Count Eulalius, to pay his debts, sold his wife's 
 trinkets. 2 
 
 The second part of the " Aussteuer " was the " Leihgedinge," or 
 the old Witthum. This consisted of a dower in land, money, 'or 
 stock, given by the parents with their daughter, so that, she might 
 riot be wholly dependent on her husband for her maintenance. 
 Among the Romans it was thought discreditable if a woman came 
 to her bridegroom empty-handed.; 3 but it was thought more than 
 discreditable among the Germans, it was regarded as making the 
 marriage nothing better than concubinage. The German mind 
 was so penetrated with the conception of marriage as a putting 
 together of property, that it refused to allow that to be a lawful 
 marriage where the property was all on one side. 4 " Charles the 
 Bald took Richihlis to be his concubine. Now on a certain feast- 
 day he took the aforesaid concubine and made her his wife (in con- 
 jugem accepit) by espousing and dowering her (desponsatam et 
 dotatam)." 5 The Emperor by fiction assumed that her parents had 
 given him money with her ; he then before witnesses made a 
 " Wiederlegung," assured her a dower in widowhood, and by so 
 
 1 " Ornamenta propria" — Leges Angl. et Wer. i. 7. 
 
 2 Greg. Turon. Hist. Franc, x. 20. 
 
 3 Sed ut inops, infamis ne sim, ne mi hanc fnmam differant 
 Me germanam meam soiorem in concubmatum tibi 
 Sic sine dote dedisse magis quam in matrimonium. 
 
 Plant. Trinumm. A. iii. sc.2. 
 
 4 King Alfred ordered, "If a man allows his son to marry a slave-girl, let him 
 betroth her to him, and provide her with clothes and what is necessary for her 
 maidenhood ; that is her Weotuma, let him give her that." Without the witthum 
 the girl would be a concubine, but with it a legitimate wife. 
 
 5 Fragm. ap. Duchesne, ii. 401. 
 
G2 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 doing converted her from mistress to lawful wife. Till the dower 
 was paid, the children were illegitimate. Sometimes, as in the 
 case of Charles the Bald, the husband provided the dower without 
 having received its equivalent from the parents of his bride. 
 Chindaswind, in 045, forbade husbands giving more than one-tenth 
 of their property as dower, except as a " Wiederlegung," to money 
 actually paid with the bride. When land was given with the wife, 
 it did not come into the " gesammte Hand," but the woman had 
 free disposal of it. In the lay of Meier Helmbrecht we read — 
 
 Full well I know what will be given 
 By Muster Rupert to his daughter ; 
 Some sheep, some pigs, a dozen kyne. 
 
 When the portion consisted of cattle, they were put into the 
 common stock, and then ceased to belong to the wife alone. It 
 was the same among citizens when the bride brought with her 
 merchandise or money. It was put with, and confounded with, 
 the property of the man, and thenceforth all the property was held 
 with " gesammte Hand," so that neither had power over it without 
 consent of the other. 
 
 Among the aristocracy, when the bride brought with her 
 money, not land, then the husband made a " Wiederlegung " — i.e. 
 he gave to her the land or buildings equivalent in value to the sum 
 paid to him with her. In 1332, the Count of Montfort received 
 with his wife 2000 marks in silver, and he undertook to build her 
 a castle "as a true and proper Wiederlegung." In the ballad of 
 " Metzen's Marriage : " 
 
 Then Mistress Metzen was " wieder laid " 
 With two good acres, thickly sowed 
 With winnowed oats, and in the yard 
 With poultry-house and fourteen hens, 
 And of pennies five pound. 
 
 The wife had also as her own the " Morgengabe." This was a sum 
 of money, or a charge on land, or cattle, given freely by the 
 husband to his wife the morning after marriage. It was given 
 only to those who were maids, and therefore not to widows on 
 second marriage. The generosity of the bridegroom was thought 
 on such an occasion to require legal restriction, and the Schwaben- 
 Spiegel lays down the limits of the Morgengabe, which must not 
 be exceeded. Kings were under no control, but princes and barons 
 
The Laws of Succession. 63 
 
 might not exceed 100 marks in their effusive liberality ; the lesser 
 nubility could not give above 10 marks; the servants of a prince 
 were limited to 5 marks. A knight might bestow on his bride his 
 best horse or a cow, money he was not supposed to have to give ; but 
 a merchant might "bestow on her 10 marks and a horse and cow. 
 A farmer was tied to one horse and one cow, or 10 marks, not both ; 
 and a serf to a sheep or a goat, or 5 sous. 
 
 When a woman brought with her no portion from her parents, 
 she had only the " Moigengabe " of her husband to look to as her 
 own, as her provision in widowhood. A marriage with only 
 " Morgengabe," and without " Aussteuer," was called in the cor- 
 rupt Latin of the Lombard laws " matrimonium in morgenaticam," 
 and this originated the name, " morganatic marriage." The wife 
 who came to her husband without portion was naturally supposed 
 to be his inferior in birth, and therefore unequal marriages were 
 entitled morganatic marriages. 
 
 A law of Liutprand, in 717, requires, "If any husband wishes 
 to give a Morgencap to his wife, when he has associated her to him 
 in marriage, let him do so by deed and before witnesses, her 
 parents and friends, and let him say, 'This is the Morgencap I 
 have given to my wife,' that there may be no chance of mistake 
 afterwards. But the Morgencap must never exceed one quarter of 
 his property. It may be less if he chooses." Again, in*728, Liut- 
 prand forbade husbands under any excuse giving more of their 
 fortune to their wives than what was fixed by law for " Meta " 
 and " Morgencap." The Franks called the Morgengabe " donum 
 niat.utinum," and fixed it at not exceeding a third of the estate. 
 With them it was soon confounded with the dower or " Wieder- 
 legung." 
 
 The amount of the Morgengabe came in the Middle Ages to be 
 agreed upon in the marriage contract ; but it was never paid till 
 the morning after marriage. It was sometimes given in land, 
 sometimes in goods. William I. of Holland, in 1220, gave his 
 wife as morning-gift a water-mill (molendina aquatica). Duke 
 William of Julich gave his bride Sybilla of Brandenburg, in 1480, 
 the castle of Benrode, and 500 florins for pin-money. 
 
 In the Sachsen-Spiegel, the Morgengabe is that part of the 
 substance of the husband which the widow can claim on his death. 
 It consists of all the hens, geese, cows, mares, and sheep ; to the 
 
6-t Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 cocks, ganders, bulls, and hoises she has no claim. But the 
 widow never broke up the farmyard by carrying off all the poultry 
 and cattle of her sex ; she received from the heirs in lieu a sum 
 which was their value. 
 
 In Saxony the institution was legally abolished in 1829 ; it 
 survives more as a tradition than a practice, except, perhaps, 
 among the peasantry of parts of Germany, who cling tenaciously 
 to old usages. 
 
 The property of married people was not usually thrown together 
 till a child was born to them, or till a year and a day had elapsed 
 since they were united. 
 
 When the property was thrown together it was held with 
 " gesammte Hand " by both together, and neither without the 
 other could dispose of the property ; for " Leib an Leib," said the 
 law, and " Gut an Gut." Generally the man had control with free 
 hand over the movables, but his hand was tied in his disposal of 
 the immovables. 
 
 During marriage two kinds of property had to be considered — 
 that which was brought into common use on the occasion of 
 marriage, and that which was acquired by husband or wife after 
 marriage. Such was rarely thrown into " gesammte Hand," but 
 remained at the free disposal of the party who had inherited or 
 otherwise acquired it. 
 
 When husband or wife died, the division and succession to 
 property differed according to whether the marriage had been 
 without issue (unbeerhte Elie) or with issue (brerbte Ehe). Accord- 
 ing to Old German law on the Upper and Middle Rhine, when in 
 a marriage without issue one of the parties died, then the widower 
 took two-thirds, the widow one-third, of property acquired during 
 marriage (Errungenscliafi). Such was a statute passed by Bishop 
 William of Strassburg, in 1533, for Egisheim. 1 The survivor 
 could always claim support from the estate of the deceased. This 
 was called, on the Lower Rhine, Lif-tocht, on the Middle Rhine 
 and in Franconia, Bisess. 
 
 According to the usage of Freiburg in Breisgau (1120), of 
 
 1 " Que les plus proches heritiers du defunt heritent et prennent pour leur 
 part les biens immeubles provenant de la ligne du d'ecede, s'ils sout encore ex- 
 istans et n'ont pas e'te' changes; mais au ens que les biens ont etc' changes, ils en 
 prennent deux tiers, et la femme ou ses he'iitiers un tiers." 
 
The Laws of Succession. 65 
 
 Colmar (1293), of Eemich (1477), of Lorraine, Luxemburg (1588), 
 Echternach (1589), etc., the woman inherited all after the death of 
 her husband without i.^sue. 1 
 
 By Saarbriicken land-right the survivor kept all the personal 
 and acquired property of the deceased for life, after which it passed 
 to his heirs. This was the law also in Old Wiirtemberg and the 
 towns of East Franconia. 
 
 As a general usage in marriage without issue, the movables 
 were held in common during life, and after death all went to the 
 survivor, or were divided by quota among the heirs. All acquisi- 
 tions in immovables went to the male heirs, but if the widow had 
 received no Morgengabe, she could legally demand of them one- 
 third as her own, in some places one-half ; and what was over, and 
 went to the male heirs, was encumbered with charges for the 
 support of the widow. All acquisitions by inheritance on one side 
 or the other went to the heirs, but were charged for the maintenance 
 of the widower or widow. 
 
 When, however, marriage was with issue, laws were different. 
 By Cologne right all property went to the children, but was 
 charged with the maintenance of the widow. But by Bern, Frei- 
 burg in Voigtland, and Swabian right (in Kempten, Meningen, 
 Lindau, etc.), all went to the survivor, with charges for the children. 
 By Mainz right the estate was divided between widow and 
 children, the widow and daughters taking the "spindle share," one- 
 third, and dividing it among them ; the sons taking the " sword 
 share," two-thirds, and dividing that. 
 
 When property went all to the widow, the children had a lien 
 (Verfangenschaft) on it; she could not mortgage, sell, or give 
 away any of it. 
 
 The law in Prussia is now this, in cases of intestacy : — 
 
 If the deceased leaves relatives in descending line, children 
 or grandchildren, the survivor (widow or widower) takes one- 
 fourth 
 
 If there are more than three descendants to inherit, the survivor 
 shares equally with the children. 
 
 If the deceased leaves only ascendants in the first degree, 
 brothers and sisters, then the survivor takes one-third. 
 
 1 "Omnis rnulier parificabitur viro, et e contra, et vir mulieris erit haares, et 
 e contra." 
 
 F 
 
G6 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 If the relatives are more distant, as nephews and nieces, the 
 survivor inherits one-half. 
 
 If there are no relatives, the survivor inherits all. 
 
 In no case can a husband or wife deprive the other by will of 
 one-half of the share which would fall to his or her lot in the case 
 of intestacy. For instance, a man with three children may be- 
 queath to his wife one-eighth of his estate. The half of what she 
 would obtain were he to die intestate is called the " Pflichttheil," 
 and is inalienable. 
 
 Modern German law lays down as the rule of intestate succession : 
 " Children inherit equal shares of their parents' estate." But a 
 parent is not obliged to give his child more than the " Pflichttheil." 
 When a parent has only one or two children, then the " Pflicht- 
 theil " is a third of the sum which would be given to the child 
 were the parent to die intestate. For instance, a man has an estate 
 worth 10,000Z.; if he dies intestate, leaving a wife and two children, 
 the widow takes 2,500/., and each child, male or female, 3,750Z. 
 But he may so dispose of his property that the wife gets only 
 1,250Z., and each child 1 ,2502. 
 
 If there be three or four children, then the " Pflichttheil " is 
 one-half; if there be more than four, two-thirds of what would be 
 the share of the child were the parent to die intestate. But if a 
 child marries without the parent's consent, the " Pflichttheil " is 
 reduced one-half. 
 
 When modern German law rules the equal subdivision of pro- 
 perty among children when the father dies without making a will, 
 it follows the tradition of German land-right from immemorial 
 times. But, though equal partition has been the theory, it has not 
 been the invariable practice. 
 
 During more than two thousand years among the Bedouins the 
 law of primogeniture has been recognised. The wealth of the 
 Bedouin consists in herds, and not in land Divided, the herds of 
 the head of the family would not suffice to maintain each son. 
 Subdivision of the movable inheritance, when nothing else pre- 
 vented, does not take place, for economical reasons. For econo- 
 mical reasons also equal partition has not been put in practice in 
 a great part of Germany. A bauer has a dwelling-house and farm- 
 buildings and an estate. He dies, leaving five children. They 
 call in a valuer, and he appraises the land at 40,000 thalers, and 
 
The Laws of Succession. 67 
 
 the buildings at 10,000. Each child takes a fifth. One, there- 
 fore, gets the farm-house and offices without land, and the others 
 get each a quarter of the land and no house, barns, or stables. I 
 remember a raffle in a village got up by a travelling tinker. There 
 were three prizes — his donkey, his cart, the harness ; and tickets 
 were sixpence each. A shoemaker who had no paddock got the 
 ass ; the cart went to a lollipop-seller, a widow, who had no shed 
 under which to put it ; and the harness was won by a carrier who 
 had a horse too large to go in the gear worn by the donkey. 
 Partitions as unpromising of success are often the result of these 
 divisions among the heirs of farmers. Eecourse is sometimes had 
 to a sale. This is avoided if possible, as the German peasant 
 clings to the paternal farm with as much love as the English 
 squire to the estate and hall of his ancestors. What is much more 
 common is for one son to undertake the farm, mortgage it up to its 
 full value, and pay with what he raises on it the claims of his 
 brothers and sisters. This is how it is that so much farm-land is 
 mortgaged. The profits go to the Jew money-lenders ; and the 
 bauer scrambles on as best he may, never able to pay off the money 
 raised, and when he dies leaving nothing to be divided among his 
 children. Wherever one goes the German peasant may be heard 
 muttering curses on the Jew, who sucks the fat out of the land, 
 and grows rich on the labour of the peasant whom he is crushing. 
 But the system is to blame, and not the money-lender. It has been 
 proposed, but, I believe, not yet acted upon, that the bauers should 
 Lave annuities to those of their children who do not take on the 
 farm. A farmer could pay his fellow-heirs ont of the annual 
 receipts; and those who desire to raise capital could sell their 
 annuities. One thing is perfectly certain ; the present system is 
 ruinous to agriculture, for the farmer goes on tilling without 
 capital. He starts on his farming without a penny in his pocket ; 
 all he has raised on the land has gone to his brothers and sisters, 
 and to the end of his days he is struggling to keep a family on 
 nothing, whilst the profits of the farm are eaten up by the usurer. 
 Till the Reformation usury was forbidden. The idea of capital, as 
 we understand it, was not understood in the Middle Ages. Canon 
 law forbade the taking of usury for the loan of money, and it was 
 forbidden also by land law. Even Melanchthon regarded money 
 taken for the loan of a sum as robbery. The prohibition of usury 
 
08 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 had one advantageous result — it saved estates and farms from being 
 burdened with mortgages. It is obvious that before the raising 
 money on a farm was possible, the system of buying off the coheirs 
 could not be put in practice. There were, also, economical reasons 
 in many parts which forbade the parcelling of the land. 
 
 What was done was this. The youngest son was constituted 
 heir to the farm and lands. The father was always, therefore, 
 able to portion off his elder children in his lifetime, according to 
 his means, extinguishing one after another their claims on his 
 inheritance. Consequently, when the youngest son came into 
 possession, the farm was burdened only with an annuity for his 
 mother. This system is still very widely spread and greatly 
 favoured, and it answers admirably. The father, better than any- 
 body else, is able to estimate the net value of his farm. He lays 
 by his savings till he has enough for the portion of the eldest son 
 or eldest daughter; he then puts the first out in trade or marries 
 the other. Then he saves for the second, and so on till all the 
 children are provided for. In some cases the amount given is not 
 over the Pflichttheil ; it is never quite up to the full share, were 
 the estate sold and divided. The professional valuer, as a bauer 
 said to me, puts the full price on the land ; the father always 
 values to suit the exigencies of the family and the welfare of the 
 farm. 1 
 
 One great advantage of " Minorat " succession in farms is that 
 the bloom of life and power for work of the heir coincides more 
 nearly with the declension of power and activity in the father 
 than under primogeniture, in which very generally both father 
 and heir presumptive are simultaneously full of life and vigour. 
 But, on the other hand, it has this disadvantage, that no son 
 knows whether he will be heir or not till nine months after the 
 father's decease. 
 
 " Minorat," Borough English, is general in the Schwarzwald, 
 in Altenburg, Wolfenbiittel, Oldenburg, and portions of Bremen 
 and Verden, and universal in Westphalia, Grubenhagen, Diepholz, 
 the Emmenthal, and the Upper Palatinate. 
 
 In Bremen and Verden another custom is for the father to 
 
 1 In North Germany, where farms are not divided, the daughters are 
 dowered not in proportion to the estate, but to the station in life of the father. — 
 Biehl: Die Familie. Stuttg. 1861, p. 16. 
 
TJie Laws of Succession. 69 
 
 leave the farm to the most able-bodied of his sons, without regard 
 to age. In Meiningen, the parents conjointly appoint their heir 
 to the land. Their choice usually falls on the eldest or the 
 youngest, according as Majorat or Minorat is the tradition of the 
 family or the custom of the neighbourhood. In some places 
 primogeniture and Borough English subsist side by side in adjoin- 
 ing communities. In certain places — in portions of the Black 
 Forest, for instance — the laud always travels through a female 
 hand. It goes to the eldest daughter ; if there be no daughters, 
 to the sister, or sister's daughter. This custom dates from a 
 remote antiquity, and is certainly pre-historic. Among some 
 Turanian tribes, and still among the North American Indians, 
 descent is always through the female. A son belongs to his 
 mother's family, not to that of his father. A wise son knows his 
 father, but any fool can name his mother. Borough English is 
 now almost exclusively the custom of the bauers ; it has long 
 ceased to be that of aristocratic succession ; but German nursery 
 tales, which always make the youngest son the successful and 
 favoured child, the heir to the crown, point to a period when it 
 was universal among all classes. " It is well," said Moser, " to 
 have the elder birds out of the nest, full-fledged and flying, whilst 
 the heir is hatching." 
 
 In some places, as at Gottingen, lot decides which son shall 
 have the farm. A very common usage is for a son to be dis- 
 qualified for inheriting if he be not born on the farm. Another, 
 equally common, is more curious, and altogether inexplicable. In 
 the event of a bauer d} 7 ing and leaving a widow with a family, 
 if the widow marries again, then the second husband and her 
 children by him inherit over the heads of the children of the 
 bauer whose property it was. She alienates the estate, by 
 marriage, from the blood descendants of the possessor. 
 
 When an heir is under age — and this is often the case when 
 the farm goes to the youngest — then " Interimwirthschaft " is a 
 common form of trusteeship. It is usually this : the nearest adult 
 male relative — the uncle, or even the stepfather — throws his 
 property in with that of the minor, and manages them as one. 
 A " gesammte Hand " can only be broken by death. Consequently, 
 the trustee remains on the estate with life possession, and the heir 
 can only enter on it on the death of the guardian. This system 
 
70 Germany, Present and Pad. 
 
 proved so fruitful a cause of quarrel, that it was abolished by law 
 iu Mecklenburg in 1810, and some other States have since for- 
 bidden it. 
 
 I have already mentioned the fact that in parts of Swabia the 
 widow inherits and carries on the farm or business for life, and the 
 children cannot enter upon it till after their mother's death. 
 
( 71 ) 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 t 
 
 PEASANT PROPRIETORS. 
 
 Proputty, proputty's ivrything 'ere. 
 
 Tennyson's Northern Farmer, N. S. 
 
 There is no feature in the English landscape so tormenting and 
 intractable to an artist as the hedge ; and yet that is the feature 
 dearest to the naturalist — the home and harbour of flower and 
 fern. A painter can make no picture out of a hillside cut up like 
 a chess-board ; and the botanist despairs of flowers on the un- 
 hedged plains of France. 
 
 How came we to have hedgerows in England? and how came 
 they in South Germany to have none ? We have hedges because, 
 if the Anglo-Saxons did not bring the tradition with them, there 
 grew up among their descendants a theory of land-tenure and 
 farming which necessitated hedges; whereas the Alemanni, the 
 Franks, Burgundians, and Swabians held a doctrine of land- 
 tenancy which dispensed with them. On the north bank of the 
 Lippe scattered farms nestle among trees with their stack-yards 
 round them, and fields girt about with hedges. On the south bank 
 not a solitary farm is visihle, nor a hedge, only clustered cottages, 
 and the land laid out in strips. The distinction is older than 
 might be supposed. Caesar says of the Nervii, a Belgic people, 
 that "against attacks of horsemen from olden times they have 
 been wont to protect themselves by cutting down tender trees and 
 weaving the branches, so that the countless twigs, interlaced with 
 thorn-bushes and other shrubs, might make a hedge not only 
 impenetrable to the foot, but even to the eye." 1 Ca3sar was a 
 
 1 De Bello Gallico, ii. 17. His description applies exactly to the Westphaliun 
 " Knick." 
 
72 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 soldier, and viewed everything from a military point of view. 
 The hedge to him was a military defence, and nothing more. As 
 a soldier he hated it. Varus did not fall before the Germans in 
 the Teutoburger Wald, but west of it, among the Westphalian 
 hedges. 
 
 Tacitus says that the people of Germany (meaning the free 
 Saxons whom he had seen north of the Rhine) " do not live in 
 towns. They cannot endure houses in close proximity to each 
 other. Scattered and separated, they settle where attracted by a 
 spring, a pasture, or a grove. The villages are not arranged in 
 our manner [the Romano-Celtic] with united, dependent buildings. 
 Each surrounds his house with a garth, from fear of fire or from 
 ignorance of how to build. They do not even use stones or tiles, 
 but employ a common material without show or value [the 
 Devonshire coh~] and thatch." 1 
 
 On the other hand, Csesar says of the Suevi (the Swabians) : 
 " Tht-y have no private and separate fields," and " none have fixed 
 fields and proper boundaries, but the magistrates and princes in 
 assembly annually divide the ground in proportion and in place 
 among the people, changing the arable land every year." 2 
 
 Tacitus was only personally acquainted with the Saxon portion 
 of Germany north of the Rhine, but from hearsaj 7 he gives an 
 account of the Swabians : " The serfs are not employed as ours, on 
 work distributed among them. On the contrary, each occupies his 
 own houf-e and has his own hearth. The lord lays on him a 
 tribute of corn, cattle, and stuff [flax] ; slavery goes no further." 
 He adds that the lands are held by the farmers in common, and 
 the fields occupied in rotation. " They change their tillage-land 
 annually, and let much lie fallow; . . . they do not hedge their 
 meadows nor water their gardens, and they cultivate only corn." 3 
 
 Here we have a rough sketch of a condition of farming which 
 has survived to the present day in Middle and South Germany, 
 with only slight modifications. 
 
 When Germany was first colonised, the population was small, 
 settlements sparse, and there was land in abundance to satisfy 
 every necessity. The requirements of the colonists were simple 
 and easily met, the chaise was yielding, the soil fresh and 
 
 1 German. 16. 2 Be Bello Gallico, iv. 1, and vi. 22. 
 
 3 German. 25, 26. 
 
Peasant Proprietors. 73 
 
 apparently inexhaustible, the rivers and lakes teemed with fish. 
 There was at first no landed property. A family settled on a 
 suitable spot in a valley, by the water — even on the water 
 (Pfahlbauten) — where the wild deer would come to drink, and a ( 
 net let down from the platform would draw up a breakfast. 
 Round the settlement the best soil was broken up, and flax and 
 corn were cultivated. The rest of the land as far as the forest was 
 the common mark, where all might pasture their short-horned oxen. 
 
 The virgin earth yielded harvest after harvest through long 
 years. But at length it became exhausted, and the crop did not 
 answer the demands of the tiller. Then the settlement was dis- 
 solved, the family migrated, and repeated its experiments and 
 experiences on new soil. But in the meantime the family had 
 increased. The sons separated and founded homes for themselves, 
 generally in the neighbourhood of the paternal settlement, and 
 when that moved migrated with it. From the Family sprang the 
 Stock, and from the Stock the Folk. All social development issues 
 from the patriarchal conception of the family ; but it is only when 
 the basis has broadened to cover a large tract, and involve a 
 multitude, that the Folk emerges upon the stage of history. 
 
 As population increased boundaries were created by the 
 necessity of fixing limits to prevent incessant feud. A cluster of 
 related families formed a " Gemeinde," a cluster of Gemeinden 
 made a Gau or a Mark. When a Folk became too numerous for its 
 confines, the overflow attacked another Folk. If the assailants 
 failed they disappeared ; if they triumphed they enslaved the con- 
 quered, and assumed the rights and privileges of freemen. Bapidity 
 of growth of populations made migration a difficulty. The land 
 already exhausted was returned to, and found to have recovered 
 itself while left fallow. The only confines that existed at first 
 were those of the Folk. The next to be traced were those of the 
 Gemeinde — the Commune. The parish is the English division, 
 but the German is communal and not ecclesiastical. The 
 Gemeinde was a community of families allied in blood — an expan- 
 sion of one family holding land in common. The next stage 
 was the distributing of arable land among the householders, and 
 the marking off of each portion as appropriated. In favourable 
 situations families increased more rapidly than in others, and the 
 sons settled near their fathers' hearths. Thus the village came into 
 
74 Germany, Present and Past 
 
 existence. But where the soil was not rich enough to allow of this 
 — was rocky or sandy — there dispersion was compulsory. In such 
 situations one son alone remained under the parental roof, perhaps 
 the eldest, most generally the youngest ; and the rest separated 
 and sought their fortunes elsewhere. 
 
 The great swarms of Saxons and Angles who came to Britain 
 and conquered it, were the elder sons of the households leaving the 
 parental hive to seek their fortunes elsewhere ; the youngest son 
 remaining with his father to succeed him in the byre and inherit 
 his flocks and herds. We hear of periodical migrations of great 
 peoples. In most coses the migrations were not of the whole race, 
 but only of the sons who could not be supported at home. The 
 Montavun Thai contains a population three times as much as the 
 soil and produce of the valley can support. Every spring a dense 
 swarm of men and girls issues from the narrow gorge above 
 Bludenz and disperses over Switzerland and France. The men 
 work the summer through as masons in France, the maids as wait- 
 resses in the Swiss inns. In winter they return to their rocky 
 home with pockets well lined with gold. In early days there was 
 no demand for masons and kellnerins ; when the young people 
 swarmed out, it was to conquer or be killed ; the pastures of the 
 Alps of Montavun could support at home but one son and one 
 daughter. This, on a large scale, is the history of the migrations 
 of the Saxons, Angles, Franks, etc. 
 
 Among the Suevi (the Swabians) the whole Gemarkung, or land 
 belonging to a Gemeinde, remained common property, cultivated by 
 the whole village ; but among the Saxons the sons migrated, and 
 one alone remained to inherit the parental house. There was 
 reason for this. On the great plain of North Germany the land is 
 sandy, peaty, and poor. It cannot support a dense population. 
 There must be periodical swarms or devastating famines. But in 
 the South and Middle of Germany it is not so. The richer land 
 allows of the growth of population on it. It admits of extensive 
 tillage. Therefore the poor land instituted the custom of one son 
 inheriting and the rest dispersing ; and the rich land nourished all 
 at home with impartial kindness. Thus inexorable necessity 
 established the aristocratic theory of the tenure of land prevalent 
 among the Saxons. Nature herself determined the opposite laws 
 of inheritance which still govern the holding of land in the North 
 

 Peasant Proprietors. 75 
 
 and South of Germany : developed in one part the farm with it a 
 homesteads, fields, and hedges, and in another formed the village 
 with its common-lands and Gewannen; created two systems of 
 farming, the Koppel- and the Hufen-wirthschaft. 
 
 Among the Franks, Alemanns, and Swabians, the communal 
 system was universal, except where the soil was too poor to allow 
 of it. Thus, in the dry table-land of Bavaria, in parts of the 
 Black Forest, and in the Bavarian Alps, we find the close property 
 entailed hard by land held in common and land equally divisible. 
 At first, the whole Gemarkung was the common property of all the 
 households in a Gemeinde. But after a while, as already said, the 
 arable land was divided between the heads of the village house- 
 holds, to be held by them a certain length of time. Then it was 
 allowed to fall back into fallow, and another portion of pasture was 
 appropriated and marked off for tillage. By degrees there came to 
 be system in this change. Large portions of the common land 
 were marked off and allotted for tillage in regular rotation. The 
 land beyond the marks remained common (Allmand or Allmend). 1 
 At Gersbach, in the Baden Schwarzwald, for instance, the tillage 
 land to this day is all common. Every year a portion is alloted to 
 each village householder who can established an ancestral claim to 
 it, and is by him cultivated for three years ; at the expiration of 
 this time it becomes again common property, and he receives by lot 
 a fresh piece of arable land. In the high land on the Hundsrucken 
 and on the spurs of the Eifel, lands are fresh assorted among the 
 village community at intervals of a certain number of years. In 
 the Altmark all the land is common ; and the heads of the house- 
 holds assemble under the presidency of the village constable 
 (Schulz) every evening to decide what agricultural work is to be 
 carried on the following day. 
 
 Among the Swabians and Alemanns, as the population grew, 
 the time of rotation was reduced to a minimum of three years. 
 The movable landmarks dividing the several allotments became 
 permanent, and every householder received as many parcels of land 
 as there were divisions for rotation of crops — i.e. three. Thus 
 
 1 Some writers suppose the Alemanni were so called from their system of 
 landed holdings, from the " Allmend." This I doubt ; I suspect the Alemanni 
 derived their name from being a mixed people of Swabians, conquered Celts, 
 Wends, and Rhsetians. 
 
70 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 arose the throe-field system, so universal in South and Mid Ger- 
 many. After a while the tillage land in cultivation proved in- 
 sufficient fur the growing population ; it was found necessary to 
 reclaim more of the common land. The reclaimed portion was 
 again divided into three, and then subdivided among the house- 
 holders in parallel strips, so that each strip might enclose some of 
 the best and worst sorts of soil. After another long interval there 
 ensued a third enclosure and allotment. Then perhaps a fourth ; 
 till in some parishes the whole of the Allmend was taken in and 
 distributed as private property. All these appropriations are 
 marked off in long strips, called Gewannen or Gewende ; and as they 
 were made at long intervals and by lot, it generally happens that 
 the strips of land belonging to a peasant holder lie scattered all 
 over the parish. If one were to go into a nursery after a child has 
 been cutting up coloured papers to twist into spills, one would see 
 on the floor, strewn with strips of red, blue, yellow, and green, a 
 map of the lie of fields belonging to as many bauers in a South 
 German parish. But the majority of Gemeinden have not yet 
 appropriated all their common land. They have at all events their 
 forest and pasture. But they have also Allmend, which is in till- 
 age, but not appropriated.' It still belongs to all, and has no happy 
 lot. In some parishes it is let, and the rent goes into the common 
 box or vestry account. In other parishes it is given for life to the 
 oldest inhabitant ; in others it goes by turns to the heads of the 
 community for fixed terms of years. Whichever way it is disposed 
 of, the common saying holds good, " Gesammt-gut, Verdammt-gut" 
 (common property is accursed property), for it is racked out by its 
 temporary tenant. In Westphalia, portions of the Allmend, there 
 called Vcihden, are given to bauers for from four to six years ; at 
 the end of which time the land falls back into common property, 
 and is then so exhausted as to be unable to grow anything. It is 
 bad also for the temporary tenant. Whilst he holds the land he 
 is obliged to have, say six horses. When he gives it up he must 
 reduce his number to two. After a lapse of a few years he gets 
 another giant of common land, and must again buy more horses. 
 Thus there is incessant buying and selling. Precisely like the 
 Vohden of Westphalia are the Wildfelder of the Spessart, land re- 
 claimed fiom forest, the Scheffelland in the Eifel, the Torffelder in 
 Waldeck, and the Eggarten in Switzerland and Swabia. Till quite 
 
Peasant Proprietors. 77 
 
 recently it was not unusual in Baden for the common-land tillage 
 to change tenants every three years, and for the Allmend meadows 
 to change every year. 
 
 Many villages still have common forest, and each householder 
 in the parish has a right to so many Klaftem of firewood from it. 
 Such reckless ruin has been wrought through improvidence in 
 devastating woods, that the various Governments in Germany 
 have been forced to interfere; and now no man may cut down 
 timber that has not been marked by the forester. In their eager- 
 ness to be rich, and indifference to the requirements of posterity, 
 the peasants were sweeping away all the forests of Germany, to 
 turn the wood into cash and the soil into tillage. 
 
 The pastures which were common land have fared worse than 
 the woods, which have attracted and secured the protection of 
 Government. Common pasture has in most places been reclaimed 
 and appropriated, and turned into tillage. As there are no 
 hedges, and the strips of land belonging to each farmer are not 
 much wider than a good-sized room, it is impossible to feed cattle 
 on them. Consequently, not cattle only, but sheep also, are stall- 
 fed. Stall-fed sheep bear little wool, and their mutton is tasteless. 
 
 The abolition of the pastures has made the rearing of crops 
 take the place of the rearing of cattle. Yet, wherever a farmer 
 has cattle and a dairy, he is well off; a bauer with only tillage is 
 always poor, and generally in debt. 
 
 As has been shown, where villages of peasant proprietors exist, 
 there the property of each is scattered all over the parish. The 
 further subdivision and distribution of the property is effected by 
 the Suevo-democratic law of equal partition among all children, 
 male and female, common in Hesse, Thuringia, the Ehenish 
 Franks, the Swabians and Alemanns of Wiirtemberg, part of 
 Bavaria, Baden, and German Switzerland. Yet even there econo- 
 mic reasons often prevent it. Aloft on a mountain slope sits a 
 comfortable farm, with its alps and home meadows, which one son 
 will inherit. Below in the plain is a village of tillers and growers 
 of grain dividing their little parcels into minuter particles among 
 their children. Yet the rich mountain bauer attends the same 
 parish church as the poor peasants of the plain. Necessity forced 
 the owner of the Alpine farm to break through the rule of his race, 
 and bequeath the pasture-land and herds to one son, and send 
 
78 Germany, Present and Past, 
 
 forth the others into the wide world to seek their fortunes. No 
 such necessity existed in the plain, where the land was rich, and a 
 man can subsist on the produce of half-a-dozen acres. 
 
 In North Germany the land belongs to the nobility and to 
 yeomen farming their own estates. There we have the isolated 
 farm (Einzelhof, Eiruklhof). The lines of demarcation between the 
 two systems — the aristocratic and the communal — can be drawn 
 exactly. The limits, beginning from the north-east, are from the 
 Marches of Bremen along the Weser to Einteln ; from thence over 
 the Lemgo and the sources of the Lippe to Lippe, by Hamme, 
 Plettenburg, Attendorn, Drolshagen, to Siegburg and Miilheim; 
 then the line crosses to the right bank of the Rhine at Neuss, and 
 goes by Erkelenz and Heinsberg to the Meuse. All west of this 
 line the land is held in close properties, and is cultivated by 
 farmers not living in villages, but in their scattered houses, as in 
 England. Every farm (Hof) is surrounded by its farmyard and 
 its ranges of fields. Several scattered farms form a Bauerschaft, 
 which generally bears the name of the oldest and most honourable 
 Hof. This Hof is first in rank among the farms. In it the 
 yeoman of the Bauerschaft assemble and debate on the affairs of 
 their society — decide on marriages, patch up quarrels, and strike 
 bargains. Formerly these assemblies exercised judicial powers, 
 and could pronounce and carry out capital sentences. It was from 
 them that the Holy Vehm arose. 
 
 The decisions of the assembly were called Bauersprachen or 
 Bauergerichten. The head farm was called the Bichthof, or Court 
 of Judgment, or simply the Obeihof, as chief farm. Its proprietor 
 bore the proud title always given him of Hauptmann. 1 
 
 It will be seen that the present division of the land in Germany 
 is the result of a process of development reaching back to pre- 
 historic times — a process of regular growth till the time of Charle- 
 magne; but it has been hindered, delayed, and even thrown back 
 during the last thousand years by the growth and pretensions of 
 feudalism. 
 
 In Germany it is always possible to distinguish the close farm, 
 
 Koppelwirthschaft, from the scattered divisible properties of the 
 
 peasant owners in villages. The first exist in North Germany, 
 
 and here and there as islands — one may say oases — in the midst 
 
 1 See, for a sketch of Westphalian farm-life, Immermann's Oberhof. 
 
Peasant Proprietors. 79 
 
 of other lands ; some the remains of free peasant estates of ancient 
 date, others the creation of nobles or the Church, most of which 
 have now fallen into the hands of baners. Wherever they exist 
 they are conspicuous for superior cultivation of the soil and a 
 better stock of cattle. The land in the hands of large farmers 
 supports, as we shall see presently, fewer hands on the acre, but 
 more in the aggregate. 
 
 Peasant properties are almost always broken up into many 
 scattered strips, and rarely lie together. 
 
 Villages of peasant proprietors are of three sorts. One sort 
 is a street of houses ; such, for instance, as Denzlingen, in Baden, 
 some two miles long. Each house heads a strip of land, the width 
 of the house and offices. This strip is divided into sections. Close 
 to the house are orchard and vegetable garden ; beyond is arable 
 land, outside that meadow, and at the verge is wood. Such 
 villages are frequently met with in the Schwarzwald, Oden- 
 wald, Oberbayern, and between the Lippe and the Liineburger 
 moors. 
 
 But usually the village lies in the middle or at the edge of the 
 parish, always by the water and where the best soil is found. The 
 houses are rarely built so close to one another that there is not 
 room for vegetable gardens, paddocks, and orchards among them. 
 The orchards round a village, and the cherry-trees along the road, 
 are occasionally common property. The fruit, when gathered, is 
 subdivided among the households. In the immediate neighbour- 
 hood of the village is always a portion of the best land bounded 
 off from the rest, kept for most careful cultivation, well manured, 
 and used as vegetable gardens. Outside this is the tillage (Acker- 
 land). The whole of this, without exception, is divided into a 
 number of Gewannen, each of which als j contains a number of 
 subdivisions. The Gewannen vary greatly in length from 30 
 to 1000 yards and more, but run, on an average, 200 yards. The 
 longer the strips the narrower is their relative width. It is most 
 rare for a single proprietor to hold a whole Gewanne ; each bauer 
 has usually only a strip, a sixteenth or twentieth, of the Gewanne 
 in one place, and a sixteenth or twentieth of a Gewanne elsewhere. 
 The width of these subdivisions naturally varies. Some in the 
 Ehenish Pfalz are only a yard wide. I have measured a good 
 many in Buden, and have found thera frequently as narrow as 
 
80 Germany, Present and Past 
 
 seven yards — i.e. width in which to turn a plough--- sometimes only 
 three yards. As a general rule, the strips are rectangular. 
 
 The traveller in South Germany can scarcely have failed to 
 notice the Gewannen parted from each other by footpaths, and 
 their subdivisions by trenches or stones. Except on steep hill- 
 sides, where for convenience of ploughing the Gewannen are 
 ranged horizontally, they are generally so laid out as to give the 
 owners equal shares of good and inferior soil. Where there is 
 diversity of soil, great variation in the direction and shape of the 
 Gewannen is observable. When one set of Gewannen falls at 
 right angles on another set, that strip on which the heads impinge 
 is called the Anwende ; it is that on which the ploughs turn, and 
 it is that, in consequence, on which the best soil accumulates. 
 But as it also suffers from the same cause, it always stands in the 
 village land-book as less than it really is — a fact of some import- 
 ance in the event of sale or exchange. 
 
 Only of late years have roads and paths of access been made to 
 the several strips of land. Formerly the main road alone was 
 kept up by the parish, and right of way across the land of neigh 
 hours was stringently ruled. It was peimritted only at certain 
 seasons, so that a bauer could not always obtain access to his 
 property. 
 
 There are villages of a third sort, which must be briefly 
 noticed. In the W ester wald, for instance, the face of the country 
 is studded with innumerable little villages of from six to ten 
 houses, and from forty to fifty inhabitants, each with its school 
 and church and Eathhaus. These villages sprang up in a veiy 
 natural way. When fresh common land was enclosed, the new 
 families for whom it was taken in set up their cottage-farms near 
 the " new take " to save having to walk far to their work. In 
 the early Middle Ages the whole country was covered with these 
 little daughter-villages. The large village was a later phase of 
 peasant life. When an old chronicler like Hermann the Cripple 
 relates that "on July 3, 875, the village Eschborn was so wrecked 
 by a storm that every trace of it vanished," he alludes, no doubt, 
 to some such humble collection of half-a-dozen houses. But the 
 feuds of the Middle Ages forced the baueis to flock together fur 
 protection, and seek shelter under the walls of a cattle or a convent, 
 or at all events of a massive church tower. The site of many an 
 
Peasant Proprietors. 81 
 
 old hamlet then deserted is pointed out. Such are the "wiiste 
 Marken," the deseited marches noted in the archives of every 
 State since the fourteenth century. For instance, in the terrier 
 of the house of Wiesenburg, a feudal tenure of 40,000 acres in 
 East Prussia, in 1575, nineteen wiiste Marken are noted, and it 
 says: "These villages must have existed in times before mind, 
 as the fields, and even the homesteads, are overgrown with oak 
 and beech three hundred years old." In the Rhenish Pala- 
 tinate every little swell in the ground was once crowned by its 
 village ; now only the names remain to tell where once they 
 htood. 
 
 When the dwellers in these hamlets crowded into laro-e villages, 
 they kept their land, but lived at a distance from it. By marriage 
 and purchase they acquired other bits of ground in other parts 
 of the Gemarkung ; their children divided the parental acres and 
 united them to other inheiiiances ; and thus endued the most 
 marvellous distribution of property in patches and shreds all over 
 a parish. 
 
 The average size of a strip or piece of arable land possessed 
 by a bauer is naturally very variable. In some places, where 
 they scarce exceed two Aren, 1 the owner of twenty hectares (about 
 50 acres) will have some 1000 bits of land distributed over the 
 whole surface of the parish. Such is the case on the Main and 
 the Middle Khine. On the Upper Rhine, on the other hand, the 
 average size of a field is from twelve to fifteen Aren ; in Bavaria, 
 thirty Aren. In Baden it has been fixed by law so as not to 
 include less than a quarter of a Morgen, 2 or about a quarter of an 
 acre. Elsewhere it is unregulated. 
 
 The three-course system of farming is almost the only one 
 possible in peasant communities. In most of them the arable land 
 is divided by immemorial invariable custom into three portions— 
 the Feld, Flur, and Zebj — the winter, the summer, and the fallow 
 field. We can see in almost every South German parish farming 
 as it was when the Gemarkung was first divided up. Century 
 after century has passed, new vegetables have been introduced — 
 
 1 1 Are = 100 square metres = 119C03 square yards. 
 
 100 Aren = 1 H. ctare. _ x 
 
 1 Hectare = '2-471 English acres. 
 
 * A Morgen in Baden is = 0*3000 Hectare. 
 
 G 
 
82 Germany, Present and Pad. 
 
 roots, tobacco, hops — but the system has remained unaltered. 
 The arable land changes year by year in rotation of three. Till 
 the feudal system was abolished, this method of farming could not 
 be altered, as the charges on the land were computed by it. But, 
 though the tithing of the crops has ceased to be exacted, it is 
 not much easier to work a change in the three-course system, so 
 hampered is the farmer by the rights of his neighbours, and the 
 danger he incurs of being sued for trespass or damage should he 
 break the customary routine. If a property does not abut on a 
 main road — and this is only the case with a few — the owner is laid 
 under the yoke of old custom, and cannot adopt a more rational 
 system, for he cannot get to his land except at the customary 
 times. Consequently, continual cultivation is only found in large 
 farms. 
 
 The meadows (Wiesen, Matten) as a rule follow the course of 
 the s* reams, but often lie on dry soil, as on hills and the rough 
 ground that breaks in upon tillage-land. The proportion borne 
 by meadow to tillage is very important. It varies from : 1 or 
 from 3:1. Almost without exception, as already stated, in the 
 latter case the bauers are in flourishing circumstances, and in the 
 former are in debt and in the hands of the Jews. Meadow land, 
 like arable land, is parcelled out. 
 
 But the greatest subdivision is found among the vineyards. 
 Of these the majority of portions are less than an Are, say ten 
 rods. The peasants possessing vineyards are almost always in 
 comfortable circumstances. 
 
 Pasture land is generally common land. But in some cases 
 it is parcelled out in strips like the meadow and tillage. I have 
 seen a whole family watching three sheep and a cow whilst 
 grazing, to prevent their trespassing upon a neighbour's pasture, 
 there being no hedges, but an invisible line drawn between two 
 stone pegs to separate the estates. Such parcelled pastures are 
 common in the Schwarzwald. It is difficult to overrate the waste 
 of time and trouble which they entail, and which they divert from 
 the tillage land. 
 
 The average size of a peasant's property can hardly be given. 
 In fertile districts an estate of seventy acres is rare, and a bauer 
 with such a property would be looked up to as a man of wealth. 
 Where the land is poor, it is different. 
 
Peasant Proprietors. S3 
 
 Anything like a compact farm or estafe in Mid and South 
 Germany is most rare. Even where land belongs to the gentry, 
 it is in patches and parcels scattered here and there in and out 
 among the strips belonging to the peasant pioprietors. The 
 landed gentry are therefore obliged to cultivate their ground in 
 the same wretched manner as the bauers ; and it is only by means 
 of exchange, often at a sacrifice, or by purchase, often above its 
 worth, that they have been able to throw their land together 
 (Verkoppelung), and thus introduce a more rational system of agri- 
 culture. This is why, in Germany, landed property pays worse 
 than in England. In England the return is 2£ per cent., in 
 Germany it is reckoned rarely to reach 2 per cent. Where land 
 has been thrown together, it is always possible to let it, and a 
 farmer (Pachter) is generally glad to rent it, and will pay the rent 
 and make more out of it for himself than he could have made out 
 of his own land, free of rent, but dispersed over the Gemarlcung. 
 These farms stand out as oases in a desert of bad agriculture. In 
 North Germany, where large landed estates exist, there is no 
 difficulty in making farms compact. In the large farms the soil 
 yields better, and the cattle are of a superior kind ; but the small 
 farms support the largest number of human heads. The small 
 holder who has much tillage and little pasture has no capital 
 to sink in the soil; the number of cattle he maintains is insuf- 
 ficient to manure the land. If his crops fail one year, it is as 
 much as he can do to scramble on to the next harvest : if the 
 second be not unusually good, he falls into the hands of the Jews, 
 who sell him up, take his land, and dispose of it at a price above 
 its worth, for small parcels always fetch high figures as accommo- 
 dation land to neighbouring holders. There is scarce a villag3 
 without some Jews in it. They do not cultivate land themselves, 
 but lie in wait, like spiders, for the failing bauer. The usual story 
 of a small farmer's ruin is this. His second ox dies. He cannot 
 plough without two, and he has not the money to buy one. A 
 Jew lets him have an ox at a certain price, to be paid in instal- 
 ments. When the Jew has thus put his little finger in at the 
 door, the whole fist follows. Just as in England the land of 
 small yeomen gets into the possession of country lawyers who lend 
 them money in hard times, so does the land in Germany go to the 
 Jew. But the Jew never keeps it. He sells it. Where there was 
 
84 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 ■wood he was wont to " stub" it up and sell the ground as tillage, 
 but Government has forbidden this, and made the practice penal. 1 
 
 The subdivision of ilie land is such an impediment to good 
 farming, and leads, \\hen carried to extreme results, to such a 
 dead-lock, that the Governments in Germany have had to inteifcre 
 at different times. 
 
 In Baden, for instance, in 17(50, and again in 1771, and in 
 Speyer in 1753 and 1752, laws were passed f irbidding the par- 
 celling of arable land below \ of an acre, garden ground below | 
 of an acre, vineyards also below \ of an acre. In Nassau, 1777. 
 tillage might not be reduced below | an acre, and garden plots 
 below \ acre. By law of 1839 the minimum of arable landed 
 property was fixed at 50 rods, of meadow at 25, and of garden 
 at 15. In Darmstadt in 1834 the minimum of subdivision of 
 bad land that was turned by the plough, was fixed at 400 square 
 Klafter, 2 of good land 200, of meadow 100, of vineyard and orchard 
 50, of garden 20. In Weimar, since 1862, fields of one acre and 
 meadows of ^ an acre may not be legally cut up. In Bavaria a law 
 of 1834 forbade the subdivision of land below a ratable value 
 of a Gulden (Is. 9d.) In Delecarlia, in Sweden, a farmer has 
 occasionally 300 parcels of ground distributed over a district four 
 miles square, and only the head of the family knows where they 
 all are. On the Ehine there are peasant properties of twenty 
 acies divided into 120 scattered patches. At Hohenheim is 
 an agricultural college for Wurtembergers, founded by Govern- 
 ment with the object of raising the character of farming in the 
 kingdom. But it hus been found that the pupils will not buy land 
 in Wurtemberg, parcelled out as it is, and prefer migrating to 
 North Germany, where they can rent close farms. " What educated 
 man," asks List, " will buy a property broken into a hundred bits 
 in closest contact with blunderheaded, cantankerous boors?" 
 
 It is remarkable that in Lippe, where large farms are the rule, 
 and there is not equal subdivision, when the standard of cultivation 
 and prosperity is high, so great fear is felt lest the system general 
 elsewhere of equal subdivision should invade and ruin the princi- 
 pality, that in 1880 laws were passed forbidding the breaking up of 
 large estates. 
 
 1 In Bavaria with fine and imprisonment 
 3 A Klafter is about C ft. 
 
Peasant Proprietors. 85 
 
 The mischief wrought by distribution has repeatedly attracted 
 the attention of Government, and various attempts have been 
 made to rearrange scattered peasant properties, so as to facilitate 
 Koppelwirthsch aft . 
 
 In 1617, rearrangements of property were effected in a great 
 number of parishes in Bavaria. Fresh rearrangements were made 
 in 1791, 1810, 1817, 1818, 1821-1826, 1838-1860. In 1861 a law 
 was passed to facilitate redistribution of property in parishes ; 
 but as such a redistribution could only be made when approved by 
 a majority in a parish reckoned by heads, not by acreage, 1 it has 
 remained a dead letter; for Koppelwirthscliaft is an advantage to 
 the large proprietor, but not to the little hulder, as the scattered 
 patches of land fetch more than they are worth, and the small 
 proprietor keeps a sale always in his eye. 
 
 In Brunswick, during the last thirty-five years, "Verlcoppelung " 
 — the throwing together of properties — has been carried out ener- 
 getically, and is now nearly complete. In the south of Hanover, 
 property is in the hands of little owners as in Mid and South 
 Germany. From 1820 till 1850 VerJcoppdung was optional, but 
 since then it has been made compulsory wherever a majority, 
 reckoned by acreige, agrees to it; all small holders not being 
 allowed a vote, as being invariably obstructives. In the Giand- 
 Duchy of Weimar the Prussian system, which we shall presently 
 describe, has been pursued, and the land everywhere redistributed. 
 Since Hesse-Cassel has been taken by Prussia, redistribution has 
 been carried out there with a high hand. 
 
 In Wurternberg and Hesse nothing has been done to stay the 
 evil. But the Prussian Government has gone vigorously to woik 
 with Hohenzollern and has recast the land. 
 
 There are three systems of Verkoppelung : the oldest is the 
 Nassau system ; the most effectual but most despotic is the 
 Prussian ; the Baden plan is a combination of both. It will be 
 sufficient if we describe briefly the first two. 
 
 In Prussia, if one quarter of the proprietors in a parish ask for 
 a redistribution, the Government proceeds at once with the re- 
 arrangement. In Nassau and Baden the Government will not act 
 till the consent of a majority of holders has been obtained. 
 
 1 That is, where the owner of one Morgen exercises one vote, and the owner 
 of ten Morgen exercises ten votes. 
 
SG Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 The Nassau experiment dates from the close of last century, 
 that of Baden from 1856. 
 
 In Nas.-au, when a Parish has to be recast, it is visited by a 
 surveyor and a special commissioner, who take an exact survey of 
 the land. Then the soil throughout is tested and valued, and 
 registered in a graduated scale. When this has been dune, every 
 landholder prefers his claim, and the claims are balanced and 
 registered. The surveyor next lays down a network of paths and 
 roads over the whole parish, so as to allow of every proprietor being 
 able at any time to obtain access to his own land. When this is 
 done, the redistribution of the land takes place. Every claim is 
 considered and satisfied. Where there are equal claims, the lot 
 decides between them. 
 
 This system is costly : the cost varies from 31. to 61. per hectare, 
 exclusive of the expense of making the new roads ; and the plan is 
 not altogether satisfactory. It prevents much litigation, and allows 
 of a farmer breaking through the old three-course system, by 
 giving each man a way to his own field, but it does not tend to 
 consolidation of property. 
 
 The surveyor finds that Bauer Bengel has originally ten lots of 
 soil of class A, five lots of class B, fifteen of class C, and so on. 
 When the redistribution takes place, he takes care to give him the 
 same number of lots of the same quality of soil ; and as the 
 different qualities of soil lie all over the parish, it is found that 
 after the readjustment has taken place, lands are little less 
 scattered than they were before. 
 
 The Prussian system is different. There is a special Board for 
 rearrangement of land, and wlien application is made to it, it takes 
 the matter in hand in a somewhat despotic manner. A special 
 commissioner is sent down to hear, and compare, and register 
 claims. When the proprietors have made their claims they are no 
 more consulted. The surveyor goes to work, maps the parish and 
 tests the soils. Then the net value of every lot is estimated accord- 
 ing to the present system of husbandry. The rate-book is next 
 consulted, and each man's claim is considered by that, checked off 
 and controlled. The roads and paths are then thrown as a net over 
 the whole Gemarkung, crossing each other at right angles. Then 
 follows the re-allotment of land, which takes place without any 
 regard to former arrangement, and is simply determined by the 
 
Peasant Proprietors. 87 
 
 net value of the several claims. From this it follows that where 
 claims are equal in amount, one man will have less good soil and 
 more of an inferior quality, and the other more good soil and little 
 poor land. 
 
 The object held in view by the Prussian system is the consoli- 
 dation of property. When the whole parish has been redistributed, 
 staked out and docketed with the names attached to each lot, then, 
 and not till then, are the claimants allowed to express their opinion 
 on the rearrangement. Their objections are listened to, weighed, 
 and if considered well-founded, some modification in the arrange- 
 ment is conceded. The cost of the Prussian plan is about half that 
 of the Nassau system, from 21. 4s. to 4:1. 8s. per acre. That the par- 
 celling and scat eringof a farm all over a parish is an unmixed evil 
 can scarcely be doubted. It leads to a great waste of time, labour, 
 and manure. Half a day is sometimes consumed in going from 
 one patch of land to another, and the droppings of the horses and 
 oxen fall on the road instead of dressing the ploughed land. 
 
 But the distribution of the land among peasant proprietors is 
 not either an unmixed evil or an unqualified advantage. The 
 advantage or disadvantage of subdivision of property is a difficult 
 question, because it is a mixed one. 
 
 The first and most imporiant question raised is, how does the 
 system affect the population ? This is not easy to answer. In the 
 case of equal subdivision, or of one son inheiiting, and the other 
 children being paid off, the result is the same — a large family is a 
 heavy charge on the farm. A bauer to whom I expressed my sur- 
 prise at his and his neighbours having only two or three children, 
 answered laconically, " We rear as many as our farms will bear. 
 
 X (a cotter) has a dozen children: he is so poor that he can 
 
 afford it." The huge families of our labourers are not known in 
 Germany, at all events among the bauers. In Fiance, where the 
 law of equal subdivision prevails, it is found materially to affect 
 the increase of the population. 
 
 In Canada, out of 10,000 inhabitants, there are 4,2'sO children under 15. 
 
 United States „ „ 3,173 „ 
 
 Hungary „ „ 3,700 „ 
 
 Scotland „ „ 3,668 „ 
 
 England and Wales „ „ 3,61 1 M 
 
 Germany „ » 3,449 n 
 
 France „ „ 2,706 n 
 
t>8 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 There are districts of Germany almost as prolific in children as 
 Canada, and also such as are only a little less barren than France. 
 To the first belong the Frussian plain, Bromberg, Marienwerder, 
 Koslin, Posen, and Oppeln ; to the latter belong the districts of 
 Upper and Lower Bavaria, Swabia, Middle Franconia, with the 
 Donau circle in Wiirtemberg and the district of Constance in 
 Baden, and, above all, Lorraine. Curiously enough, the first 
 district is distinguished by its weakness in the number of pro- 
 ductives, and the latter by its strength in productives — 
 
 In M iriemverder, out of 10,000 inhabitants, there are 3,980 children under 15 
 
 Koslin 
 
 » 
 
 >» 
 
 3,914 
 
 n 
 
 Bromberg 
 
 » 
 
 i> 
 
 4,006 
 
 H 
 
 Oppelu 
 
 » 
 
 >» 
 
 3,945 
 
 » 
 
 Whereas in the South of Germany — . 
 In Upper Bavaria, out of 10,000 inhabitants, there are 2,761 children under 15. 
 
 Lower Bavaria 
 
 » 
 
 >» 
 
 3,031 
 
 » 
 
 Upper Franconia 
 
 »> 
 
 » 
 
 3,426 
 
 » 
 
 Middle „ 
 
 » 
 
 j> 
 
 3,204 
 
 » 
 
 Lower „ 
 
 » 
 
 » 
 
 3.2S2 
 
 » 
 
 Bavarian Swabia 
 
 » 
 
 »> 
 
 2,896 
 
 »> 
 
 Lorraine 
 
 i» 
 
 M 
 
 2,973 
 
 »> 
 
 But owing to many and various causes, the population may be 
 arrested in one place, and given occasion to grow in another, and I 
 do not think it safe to draw a hasty conclusion that the distribution 
 of property should have affected this great difference. It may be 
 influenced by laws prohibiting marriage without a competence to 
 support a family, such as prevailed till lately in Bavaria, or by the 
 emigration of the productive population. 
 
 Riehl says : " Where right of primogeniture among the peasants 
 (Bauernmajoraf) does not exist, the estate is generally put to lot 
 among the children, so as to save the paternal inheritance from 
 being broken up. Where the law interferes with the right of 
 primogeniture or allotment, there we find the bauer circumvent 
 the law. He will violate morality to secure his end. For instance, 
 on the Lower Maine, where subdivision has flourished in great ex- 
 uberance, I know a pair of solitary villages, which wage unflagging 
 war with petty parcelling. It is an unheard-of thing in those 
 villages for a marriage to yield more than two children. The com- 
 munities are rich and thriving, and the pastors preach against the 
 
Peasant Proprietors. 89 
 
 crying evil, but all in vain." 1 Ulmenstein, in 1827, said the same 
 thing, 3 and Autenrieth, in 1779, 3 gave painful particulars of the 
 systematic way in which the population was kept down to avoid 
 the breaking-up of small properties. In France, as is too well 
 known, in marriage contracts it is not uncommon to specify how 
 many children are to be reared. The unproductiveness of French 
 marriages is almost solely the result of the law of equal subdivision. 
 The peasant is under the same desire as the noble to keep his pro- 
 perty together, and circumvents the law of the land by violation of 
 the law of God. Mr. Boner, in his valuable book on Transylvania, 
 says : " We have seen how the Wallach population has increased, 
 outnumbering by far that of the Germans. How is it that these 
 German colonists should thus dwindle away, instead of peopling 
 the land with their race? The man of substance could not bear 
 the thought of seeing his possessions divided, and as the patrimony 
 could not be increased to provide amply for each member of a 
 numerous family, the same obnoxious and objectionable causes, 
 which in France check the increase of the population, were allowed 
 to work here among the Saxon peasantry. One child got the house 
 and some land, and the other the remaining portion. Thus each 
 got a goodly estate. Moreover, the Saxon could not accustom him- 
 self to give the surplus population of his village to the towns, 
 the sons and daughters going into the world to make their way, 
 and gaining their bread in a humbler sphere. Yet formerly it was 
 not so. In early times the Saxons colonised new spots with the 
 surplus population of their hamlets. There are villages where the 
 population has remained stationary for a hundred and more years. 
 In others, where originally every inhabitant was German, with but 
 a few Wallach huts outside the boundary, there is now hardly one 
 Saxon left. This is the case at Dunesdorf, and the change has 
 taken place since the childhood of men still living. There were, 
 however, throughout Transylvania Saxon villages, whose in- 
 habitants were not free men, located on the manor of the Hungarian 
 noble. They were without land of their own, and poor, and had 
 nothing to give their children in marriage, or to leave as a bequest. 
 Yet just in these villages the Saxons were blessed with numerous 
 
 1 Die Burgerliche GeselhrJiaft. Btuttg. 1861, p. 68. 
 
 * Ueber unbeschrdnhte Zertheilharlceit des Bodens. Berlin, 1827. 
 
 * Ueber Vertrermung der Bauerngiiter. Stuttg. 1779. 
 
30 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 descendants. At Teschendorf the Saxons were all serfs formerly. 
 Here it would be difficult to find a household where there were only 
 three children ; and they rejoice that it is so. But at St. Jacob, a 
 free, rich village, close by, it would be equally difficult to find one 
 with as many as three." 1 
 
 It is precisely the same in the Palatinate, and also in West- 
 phalia. Certain it is that the German day-labourer has a swarm 
 of children, and the bauer has few, and this is not a caprice of 
 nature. 
 
 The subdivision of farms among many beirs has a bad effect 
 on the agriculture. The live stock is deteriorating. The common 
 pastures are now so few, that most sheep as well as cattle are 
 stall-fed. In the valley of the Rhine, from the Dutch frontier to 
 the head of the lake of Constance, and all the high land admirably 
 suited for sheep-farming, the Eifel, the Taunus, the Haardt, the 
 Odenwald, the Vogesen, and the Black Foiest, 170 sheep 2 to the 
 English square mile are reared; the average of oxen along the Rhine 
 valley is, however, 430 to the English square mile. 
 
 Sheep living in warm stables, as already said, give little wool. 
 The cows are used to give milk, and plough and draw the wain. 
 They are of a poor lean quality. A poor ox eats as much as a 
 good beasf ; but the peasant cannot afford to buy animals with 
 breed in them. Veal is eaten to an enormous extent in Germany, 
 for beef defies mastication unless boiled to rags. The peasant 
 cannot afford to rear oxen for meat. Their services are needed for 
 the plough. When farms are divided, a couple of oxen take the 
 place of a horse, and the live stock about the yard dwindle to pigs 
 and poultry. 
 
 Fallati mentions three farms in a Wiirtemberg parish, com- 
 prising together 152 acres. These farms, a few years ago, supported 
 from 68 to 74 head of cattle. The three farmers died and their 
 lands were divided among thirteen children, and on these thirteen 
 little farms the number of cattle dropped to sixteen or seventeen. 3 
 It is, moreover, impossible to make the land yield what it can, 
 unless capital be expended on it. The soil is impoverished. It 
 
 1 C. Boner: Transtjlvania and its Products, 1865, p. 272 sq. 
 
 2 Ehenish Provinces only 170, Baden 120, Rhenish Palatinate, 69. In Eng- 
 land the. average is 1570. 
 
 * Tubinger Zeitschri/t, 1845, p. 332. 
 
Peasant Proprietors. 91 
 
 gets plenty of labour on it, but it demands other dressing than the 
 sweat of the brow. It never tastes lime, guano, nor superphos- 
 phate. Even the burning of clay is too costly an experiment on 
 loamy soils. Stall droppings alone restore to it a part of what is 
 taken from it; but as an insufficient number of cattle is kept, and 
 as much manure is wasted on the roads in travelling from one 
 patch of land to another, that part is small. But what Germans 
 do understand is the utilisation of the town soil. That is carefully 
 cherished and distributed over the land within a radius of four 
 miles of the town. 
 
 In almost every parish are a large number of small proprietors, 
 existing on the fragments of a parcelled farm. They have too 
 little land to allow of their keeping a horse or oxen, consequently 
 they have to depend on the great bauers for the tilling of their 
 land and the carting of their harvest. These little holders have 
 to pay high for the hire, and they obtain what they desire often 
 when too late in the season. They are behindhand with their 
 ploughing, and their crops are not carried till bad weather has 
 set in. An English labourer lives in luxury compared to these 
 small farmers, who drag on in squalor and misery, bowed under 
 debt to the Jew who lies in wait to sell them up. 
 
 In England, in good years an acre will produce on an average 
 thirty bushels of wheat ; in Germany the average is fourteen ; in 
 the richest districts and most favourable years, little over twenty. 
 Nor are the root crops good. Nothing tells the tale of how a land 
 is farmed better than the roots. The richest soil in Germany 
 renders roots no better than are raised on some of the poorest soil 
 in England. In England, we clean the ground from which corn 
 has been reaped by giving it a root crop. The small farmers of 
 Germany till and till through the summer to clean the soil, but 
 take nothing from it. 
 
 The Tuniberg is built up of the richest soil of the Rhine valley. 
 Tt is a range of inexhaustible heaped-up soil, the glacial mud of 
 the Swiss mountains coating to a depth of from fifty to a hundred 
 feet a ridge of volcanic trap and scoria. In the hollows, and all 
 along the Southern slopes of the Kaiserstuhl, similar mud (called 
 Loss) lias been deposited, fine and impalpable as dust — the para- 
 dise of the ant-lion, which there makes its traps in myriads. Here 
 the little farmers grow, in succession, potatoes, barley, and hemp, 
 
02 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 an exhausting course which would ruin the soil, underdressed as 
 it is, were it nut of inexhaustible fertility. 
 
 On the Kaiseistuhl the little holders went on growing their 
 wretched vines and expressing their sour wine year after year. At 
 last a capitalist by good fortune succeeded in laying three or four 
 farms together. He rooted up every vine, and imported fresh 
 plants from Naples. For three years he reaped nothing. The 
 outlay was great and there was no return. The fourth year he 
 began to realise, and rapidly made a fortune. Now the Kaiseistuhl 
 wine is the be«t on the Upper Rhine. Small holders are con- 
 demned to go on in the old routine. They cannot sacrifice a year's 
 income to make an improvement, they cannot sink any money in 
 the soil, but they will drop into it any amount of sweat. 
 
 Mohl, who was no friend to patriarchal holding together of 
 property, complained despairingly of the condition to which sub- 
 division of land was reducing the agriculture of Wiirtemberg. 
 The little properties of a few acres he called " cancers corroding 
 the face of the country, the health of which can only be saved by 
 heroic measures." 1 
 
 An instance is given of a nut-tree to which thh'ty persons had 
 claims. When the nuts were gathered, they were parted into 
 thirty lots. 
 
 In the Elsass plain, the mean size of a peasant estate is four 
 hectares, from nine to ten acres. " La terre," says Lavergne, " y 
 estlitteialement decoupee en lamieres, qui se veudent a des prix 
 fous." 2 The easy transfer and ready sale for parcels of land has led 
 to speculation which goes by the popular name of " Hofmefzgerei " 
 (farm-butchery), carried on by the Jews. They buy a farm of 
 moderate size of the heirs of a yeoman, who will divide the inheri- 
 tance equally among them, and chop it up into bits which are 
 sold by auction. Spirits are freely distributed at the sale, the 
 competition becomes lively, and the morsels sell for extraordinary 
 prices. The Jew realises large profits. This speculation was 
 becoming such a danger, that the Bavarian Government in 1852 
 passed a law punishing it with three months' imprisonment, and 
 a fine of from 100 to 1000 fiVrins. The Wiirtemberg Government 
 in 1853 was also forced to interfere, and forbid the sale of an estate 
 of more than ten acres till three years have elapsed since its pur- 
 1 Polizehvirlhschaft, ii. § 99. 2 Journal des Economies, 1856, p. 181. 
 
Peasant Proprietors. 93 
 
 chase. B3 7 Prussian law of the same 3'ear, no man can chop up 
 and s-ell land till he has held it a twelvemonth in his own hands. 
 But these laws do not prevent the racking out of the soil before 
 sale, and they are easily and constantly evaded. 
 
 In England, small proprietors of land rarely thrive, whereas 
 yeomen on a moderate estate get on in life. The reason is that 
 land mu4 have capital laid out on it to make it pay. In Germany, 
 the experience of the bauers has formulated itself in proverbs. 
 "Great estates," they say, "nourish their man, and little ones 
 devour themselves;" 1 and "a divided rood never comes to the 
 fourth brood." 2 The land now produces hardly two-thirds of what 
 it might be made to yield if worked by men with capital. That 
 means, it supports ten men where it might support fifteen. But 
 it supports seven men on the land, whereas in the hands of a large 
 farmer it would keep only five in employment. Thus the same 
 piece of land will hold to the soil seven men, and feed three more 
 in a city or engaged on a trade, which under a better system of 
 farming would keep five men on the land and feed eight employed 
 on other branches of industry. 
 
 It may be questioned whether the general happiness of the 
 country is not greater by so many being kept, to agricultural work, 
 who would otherwise be drudging in factories. But the com- 
 mercial prosperity of a country and the sum of happiness of the 
 people, I fear, vary in inverse ratio. 
 
 The artisan is restless and dissatisfied. He is mechanised. 
 He finds no interest in his work, and his soul frets at the routine. 
 He is miserable, and he knows not why. But the man who toils 
 on his own plot of ground is morally and physically healthy. He 
 is a freeman, the sense he has of independence gives him his 
 upright carriage, his fearless brow, and his joyous laugh. The 
 worker among machinery feels himself to be a slave, a slave bound 
 to a wheel, and this consciousness causes his moral deterioration. 
 The serf may love his master, but who can love a boiler ? In the 
 town tlie brain is active. Like the pearl, it grows out of disease 
 in the shell. In the country it lies latent, but muscle grows, and 
 the lungs play like blacksmith's bellows. 
 
 The initiative must ever come from the town. The pagani are 
 
 1 " Groase Giiter nahren ihren Mann : kleine zehren sich selbst auf." 
 3 " Getheiltes Gut kommt nicht auf die vierte Brut." 
 
94 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 ever averse to the light, except the light of ignes fatui. But the 
 Bauernstand is a wholesome check on too rapid and one-sided de- 
 velopment in civilisation. New ideas are given off in the town 
 like sparks, from the clashing together of minds different yet 
 equally hard, but the peasantry are not the tinder which they will 
 fire. The amaclm are the artisans. 
 
 To the hauer new ideas are as hateful as rockets in a stack- 
 yard. " One is never too late to learn," said the hag, " and she 
 began to study witchcraft." This is the answer he makes to every 
 new suggestion. 
 
 When the Thirty Years' War broke the power of the nobles, 
 and left waste places void of owners, the peasantry spread like a 
 lichen noiselessly over the scars and obscured them. In old Wiir- 
 tembeig, then half the size of the present kingdom, there were 
 left 250,000 acres of ownerless arable land, 40,0u0 acres of devas- 
 tated vineyard, and 40,000 acres of unclaimed meadow. The 
 peasantry soon appropriated them all, and there was no one to 
 say them nay. The sovereigns perceived that the bauers were 
 their best support, and duiing the seventeenth and eighteenth 
 ceniuries removed one disability after another, till the Bauernstand 
 became the most favoured in the land. The bauer is the great 
 conservative element in Germany as in France. Against him the 
 Government may always set its back. " Gesammt Gut ist ver- 
 dainmt Gut," is his answer to Social democracy. 
 
 In 1848 the peasants rose at the call of the political clubs, but 
 not for any political idea, solely for ihe removal of disabilities. 
 When liberty of the press was decreed, they became suspicious, 
 because the towns grew jubilant. They had their calendars, and 
 who wanted more ? When told that a parliament was to be 
 estal dished, they inquired whether it was to consist of cavalry or 
 of infantry. They exhausted their anger on the toll-gates. When 
 they could lay hands of them, they burnt the mortgages on their 
 lands, and were much disappointed that they might not also burn 
 the Jews who held them. 
 
 The German soldier is the German bauer in uniform. After 
 having crawled like a maggot about the paternal dungheap for 
 eighteen years, he suddenly appears with wings and antennae. He 
 is in uniform, and for three years flutters on the parade, in the 
 beer-gardens, in the gallery at the theatre, and then he chrysalises 
 
Peasant Proprietors. 
 
 95 
 
 into the old paternal baner suit and the patriarchi.il ideas. When 
 the peasant boy is confirmed, he dons a new suit, made very long 
 in the leg and body, and arms and tail. When the ceremony is 
 over, the garments are folded up and put away again, to be 
 assumed at his wedding. He has grown to fit them. So he has 
 grown to fit the doctrines and prejudices and doggedness of his 
 class. He becomes a chrysalis, I said, on returning to the village 
 from the barrack. The soldier's life has been a dream, nothing 
 more ; and now he spins, and spins his cocoon for his Schatz and 
 himself and his eggs, burying himself in his domestic bliss more 
 and more, deeper and deeper from the day. The Bauernstand is 
 the arm, the muscle ; it is the good heart of the country ; but it is 
 not, in any sense, its brain. 
 
 > 
 
 [UNIVERSITY] 
 
90 Geimany, Present and Past. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 Hymen: — I bar confusion. — As You Like It, Act V. sc. 4. 
 
 The reader of " Geier-Wally," if he is at all acquainted with anc'ent 
 German literature, cannot fail to connect the wrestle of Joseph and 
 Wall}' in the tavern with that of Gunther and Brunhild in the 
 marriage chamber. The Tyrolese peasantess does not surrender 
 her freedom without a fierce struggle, in the nineteenth century, 
 any more than did the Queen of Gunther in the Nibelungen times. 
 Whoever has attended a village wedding in the Black Forest, and 
 has seen the biide chased by the bridegroom, and knows anything 
 of early civilisation, discerns a relic of the bride-capture of primi- 
 tive times. The speared bride among the Tartars is proud of her 
 scars, but Tonelli "with the bitten cheek" in the Schwarzwald 
 resented a recurrence to barbarous practice, and broke with her 
 lover for marking her for life. 1 
 
 Marriage law in Germany has varied capriciously within two 
 centuries, but German opinion was formed by more than ten cen- 
 turies of national law befoie it was influenced and disturbed by the 
 introduction by jurists of Roman law. Ecclesiastical marriage, 
 which only late became prevalent, throughout the Middle Ages 
 was a matter of conscience rather than of legal obligation. After 
 the Reformation it, became compulsory, but in 1873 became again 
 optional, and the Protestant pastors suddenly found that they 
 were no Linger called upon by their flock to unite them in the 
 bands of wedlock. 
 
 The introduction of civil registration has scarcely affected the 
 marriages in England. In Germany it has produced wholesale 
 1 Auerbach : Dor/geschichten, V Band. 
 
Marriage. 97 
 
 desertion of the religious ministration. The board of the Bearnter 
 is preferred to the Lord's table. If the Government had not come 
 to the relief of the clergy, who drew a large part of their revenue 
 from marriage fees, they would have been ruined by the change in 
 the law. 
 
 It is impossible to understand German ideas on marriage and 
 explain this phenomenon, without a survey of the history of the 
 marriage laws of the Fatherland. Such a survey will show us 
 that, however capricious and changeable laws may be, Teutonic 
 feeling on this important subject moves on steadily within its old 
 banks. 
 
 Verlobung in Germany is a very different thing from "engage- 
 ment " in England. In both countries matrimony is made up of 
 two "moments," contract and tradition, i.e. engagement (Verlo- 
 bung^) and mariiage (Traimn;/); but with us, in accordance with 
 Roman law, the last moment is accentuated and contains the 
 essence, whereas among Germans the first is the essential and 
 emphatic transaction. 
 
 In enteiing on the relation in which engagement and marriage 
 stand to one another, it is necessary to define terms. " Training" 
 is not what we mean by betrothal, though the words are etymo- 
 logically identical. We must translate "Verlobung" by Betrothal, 
 and "Trauung" by Marriage. We do not speak of those actually 
 married as betrothed, nor of those engaged to be married as bride 
 and bridegroom. Germans do both. After engagement and till 
 marriage, the maid and man are Braut and Biautigain, and when 
 wedded cease to be thus entitled. 
 
 It is curious to notice what confusion there is in terms on the 
 popular tongue. Strictly speaking, betrothal, engagement, Verlo- 
 bung is the drsponsalio, sponsalia, of the Romans, and sponsns and 
 sponsa are those promised to one another before they are given to 
 one another. But the English spouse, the French epouse, and the 
 Spanish espose, are applied after maniage, and not before. So, in 
 Germany, Gem ah 1, Gemahlin, mean engaged by word, 1 but in com- 
 mon use are applied to those married. In Thuringia to this day 
 the people do not distinguish by word one state from the other. 
 Verlobter and Gemahl ate used indiscriminately for betrothed and 
 
 1 From the old verb mala, to converse. The German Maul, mouth, is from 
 the same root. It is the organ of speech. 
 
 H 
 
93 Germany, Present and Pad. 
 
 wedded. Originally, marriage among the Germans was simply 
 the purchase of a woman. 1'own even till late in the Middle 
 Ages " ein Weib zu kaufen. " was the common expression for 
 getting engaged. But the first laws which have been transmitted 
 to us show that the idea of sale of the woman was gone ; another 
 idea had taken its place — that of transfer of authority. A woman 
 was always under ward : the natural holder of the wardship was 
 the father ; at marriage he made over this wardship to the 
 husband. 
 
 Wardship was called munHum, and the guardian was called the 
 
 Vvrmund. Betrothal was a contract of sale between the guardian 
 
 and the suitor. The purchase-money was still called legally 
 
 " prelium ^nettse" — the price of the girl — but more generally Mund- 
 
 schatz (the value of the mundium) or Witthum. 
 
 These words must be remembered, as I shall have to use them 
 freely. 
 
 But the chief token of a change of opinion regarding marriage 
 is visible in the fact that the Witthum was a fixed sum. It did 
 not fluctuate with the state of the market ; it was not any longer 
 the price of the girl, like the price of a slave, to be affected by her 
 beauty or bodily vigour. It was legally fixed for all maids alike; 
 it was not her market value any more, but the theoretical value of 
 the wardship ; and the authority exercised by father or husband 
 over daughter or wife must be the same among rich and poor, 
 beautiful and plain. 
 
 Among the Salic Franks the mundium was estimated at 62£ 
 solidi, among the Ripuarii at 50, among the Alemanni at 40, among 
 the Saxons as high as 300 solidi. In case of invasion and injury of 
 authority it had to be compounded for, and the Wehrgeld was 
 precisely the same in amount as the mundium. In early times the 
 woman was never independent, she was always under a Vormund, 
 a perpetual ward. The transfer of guardianship constituted mar- 
 riage. The maid could no more dispose of herself than could 
 a field, for she was never out of wardship. Consequently no 
 agreement of marriage could legally be contracted with a woman 
 alone. The contract must be made with the guardian. All that 
 was allowed her in the sixth century was the right of veto. 
 
 Again, according to German law, no verbal engagement is valid 
 without a real transfer. A compact to sell a field or a cow is no 
 
Marriage. 99 
 
 compact unless the price has been paid. The courts refused to 
 allow of rights based on verbal agreement (conlocutio, the Lombard 
 fabula), though signed and sealed, unless there had been actual 
 transfer. Consequently, the suitor was required to pay over to the 
 legal guardian the price of the mundium, when he made the 
 contract. The girl then and there, at the betrothal, became his 
 property; the rights over her became legally his, and he might 
 enter on the exercise of them when he chose. If the briile (sponsa) 
 died before she was delivered over to him, the guardian returned 
 the money. 1 Breach of promise could not be made actionable 
 unless the mundium had been paid. 2 
 
 But an obvious difficulty arose. The bridegroom had to pay 
 down the mundium some time before entering into possession. He 
 laid out capital without receiving his money's worth. In unsettled 
 times men could not calculate on receiving their bread again after 
 many days when they cast it on the waters. The object of pur- 
 chase might die or depreciate. Consequently, wonld-be purchasers 
 buttoned up their pockets, and the market was glutted with 
 marriageable maids. The law was obliged to tolerate a compro- 
 mise. Prepayment of the mundium was not exacted, and in its 
 place the purchaser paid a hansel, or earnest money (Haftgeld, 
 Draufgeld), the Roman arrha, called by the Lombards Launichild 
 (Lohngeld). At the present day in Germany, if a servant be 
 engaged, Haftgeld is paid, whereupon she is bound to her master : 
 if it is not paid, she cm get off her agreement. This is like the 
 half-crown at English statute fairs, and the Queen's money which 
 binds the recruit. This Haftgeld was exacted at a betrothal to 
 clench the bargain ; it was generally spent in wine, whence it 
 took the name of Weinkauf, or was given to the church or poor, 
 and so was called the Gottespfennig. But this handsel did not, 
 like the Eoman arrha, strengthen a bargain, it clenched the bar- 
 gain — there was no legal bargain without it. Among the Franks 
 in the fifth century the hand-el had already taken the place of the 
 mundium at a betrothal, and was fixed at a sou and a denier. 
 
 1 Edict. Eothar. c. 215 (ed. Bluhrae) : — " Si quis puellam aut viduam sponsa- 
 tam habuerit (i.e. betrothed to him) et contigerit casus ut ip3a ante moriatur 
 quarn a patre, aut qui mundium ejus potestatem habet, tradita fuerit, tunc meta 
 (i.e. price of mundium ) quae data fuerat ab illo sponso, reddatur ei, tantum quan- 
 tum in ipsa meta dedit." 
 
 2 Lex Wisiyoth. iii. 4, 2. Lex Burgund. 62. 
 
100 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 When Clovis asked of Gundebald of Burgundy the hand of his 
 Bister and ward Clothild, he sent hiui by his messengers the 
 requisite sou and denier. 
 
 Simultaneously a ehanae was effected in the destination of the 
 Witthuui or mundium. This was to be paid when the bride was 
 transfeired to (he husband's house — i.e. when he claimed his pur- 
 chase. But instead of being paid lo the guardian who relinquished 
 his charge, it was held back to be paid, after the death of the 
 husband, to the guardian of the widow for her support in widow- 
 hood. It was thought, not without reason, that the fair bride 
 who was a delight to the husband, might prove a nuisance as 
 widow to a trustee, and the le fore the Witthmn was left to be paid 
 to compensate him. The mundium of the ninth century had lost 
 its significance as price for the wife, and wou that of provision for 
 the widow. 
 
 As, therefore, the bridegroom at betrothal (Verlobung) no 
 longer paid over the Witthuui or mundium, but only undertook 
 that it should be paid afier his death, he was required to make a 
 pledge or Wette (wadium, vadica) 1 that he would do so. Wette 
 is a word derived from the same root as Wiithum; the verb is 
 vidan, to bind. Our English word "wedding" means a binding, 
 not of the husband to the wife, but of the bridegroom to the 
 guardian ; and the betrothal, not the marriage, is the proper wed- 
 ding. This was so among the Anglo-Saxons from the ninth to 
 the eleventh century, till with the Normans Roman law began to 
 take the place of Saxon law, and upset the relations between 
 betrothal and marriage. In the laws of Alfred and Ethelbert an 
 engagement is called a wedde, a beweddunge ; and the betrothed 
 maid is entitled a wedded woman (beweddodu faernne). 
 
 But, according to German law, no promise is binding without 
 a simultaneous payment or transfer. Consequently, when the 
 bridegroom " wedded " himself to provide for his widow, he was 
 obliged to fasten his promise by a transfer. This assumed a sym- 
 bolical form. With each Wette that he made he handed over to 
 the guardian of the maid a straw, stick, arrow, or glove. This 
 fictitious payment is the festuca of Teutonic law. In Weber's 
 opera of " Euryanthe," Adolar and Lusiart place their gloves in 
 the hands of the king, as tokens that under a certain eventuality 
 1 The English bet is the same word. 
 

 Ma 
 
 n 
 
 lage. 
 
 they are prepared to surrender their titles and possessions. With- 
 out the festuca of the gloves thev could not have been held to 
 their promises. 1 It will be seen that throughout the maiden had 
 nothing to do with the negotiation, which was carried on wholly 
 between the suitor and the Vormund. If she eloped with a man 
 of her choice it was no marriage. The guardian could reclaim 
 her, and the man must pay Wehrgeld — i.e. the value of the mun- 
 dium or right over her he had violated, and also might be punished 
 as a seducer. If the girl remained with him, she forfeited all 
 family rights, and could inherit nothing from her parents. 2 
 
 But under the influence of Christianity the position of the 
 woman improved, and in the Middle Ages the parts of bride and 
 guardian became inverted. The woman assumed prominence, 
 exercised her voice, and asserted her will, and the guardian sank 
 into the background — his voice and will lost importance. Oiigin- 
 ally the Vormund had contracted her in espousal, and to her was 
 reserved only the power of exercising a veto; now she conti acted 
 herself freely, and to the guardian remained only the right of veo. 
 If the veto of the guardian was di>rega!ded, then the woman lost 
 all claim on inheritance through her family. 
 
 With this change, however, the form of betrothal remained 
 the same; only the handsel was paid, not to the guardian, but to 
 the bride. It consisted generally of thirteen or three Pfennige — 
 i.e. a shilling or twopence with a Pfennig over for the betrothal 
 drink. The ring was in use among the Komans as the arrha, and 
 made its way into Germany, and was often given at betrothal 
 either with or in place of the coin, as clinching the bargain. There 
 was no exchange of rings in those days. One ring was given. 
 Among the lower classes the ring was not so common as the coin. 
 The money was called the Mahlscbatz, or agreement money be- 
 tween the Gemahl and Gemahlin. In 1592 the Duke of Mecklen- 
 burg struck a special silver coin for use among the peasants as a 
 Mahlschatz, instead of the pierced shillings they were wont to 
 employ. This coin, which was equal to three Sechser, bore on it 
 
 1 The English word gloce means a pledge : gelofa, geloben. 
 
 2 Lex. Alaman. ed. HI >th. 54, 1 :— " sji quis filiara alterius non sponsatara 
 aceeperit sibi ad uxorem, si pater ejus requirit, reddat earn et cum xl. solidis 
 componat earn." 
 
 Greg. Turon. H. F. ix. 33: — "Quia sine parentum consilio earn conjugio 
 copukuti, non erit uxor tua." , 
 
^02 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 the inscription, " Der Seegen des Herrn macht reich, nnd er giebt 
 es wera er will." It originated a proverb, " Three Sechser made 
 an old purchase, or bound a couple for life." 
 
 It has been shown that Verlobung, betrothal, was among the 
 Germans the chief act; Trauung has more ceremony but less im- 
 portance. 
 
 Verlobung in law and usage was the conclusion of the con- 
 tract; Tauung was merely the transfer of the purchased article 
 to the house of the purchaser. The farmer buys a cow and he 
 fetches it home when he has a stall in which to accommodate it ; 
 but though he has not entered into actual occupation, he is already 
 the owner of it. This was precisely the view of Verlobung taken 
 by the German race. The betrothal is the desponsatio puel/ce, the 
 marriage is the traditio puellce, the " gifta " of Anglo-Saxon law, 
 the Norse " gipfa," the German " Gabe." 
 
 Trauen is literally the entrusting of the maid to her new lord. 
 " The husband is his wife's guardian (Vormund)," says the Sach- 
 sen-Spiegel, " to have and to hold as soon as she is married to him 
 (getruwel)." 
 
 In the Trauung, as in the Verlobung, the guardian, father or 
 other, was the person who disposed of the maid, who betrothed 
 and gave her away. He confided her to the troth of the husband. 
 From the necessity of the case, the Trauung was a public cere- 
 mon}', as it was the transfer of the woman from her father's house 
 to that of her husband. It was attended with certain formalities. 
 As symbols of the authority which passed to the husband, the 
 father handed over to him a sword, a hat, and a mantle — tokens that 
 he was invested with power of life and death, and supremacy over 
 her. The mantle signified the protection under which she had 
 sheltered in Iter father's home, and which she must now find in 
 her husband's house. 
 
 The ring or coin given at betrothal to the Vormund was also 
 then returned, as also the gloves or straws with which the Wette 
 had been confirmed. 
 
 According to a Swabian form of the twelfth century, the 
 Trauung was performed by the Vogt or Vormund — the natural 
 guardian — with these words : " I commend my ward to your faith 
 and favour, and pray you, for the sake of the betrothed whom I 
 now make over to you, to be her right steward (Vogt), her gracious 
 
Marriage. 103 
 
 steward, and not to be a faithless guardian (Vorcnund) to her." 
 Thereupon he returns the seven gloves, pledges of seven Wetten 
 made at the betrothal, and gives the symbols of authority— sword, 
 hat, and mantle. Thereupon the maiden looks to her husband as 
 her " reohter und gnadiger Herr." 
 
 But in course of time this ceremony underwent an alteration 
 precisely as did the betrothal. The woman assumed the place as 
 chief actor, and the guardian's position became less prominent or 
 clearly marked. In the Swabian form quoted, the proper person 
 to perform the marriage ceremony is the natural guardian. But 
 in a Cologne formulary of the fourteenth century, the person to 
 marry the couple is " Jemand," any one chosen by the bride to 
 represent her guardian. He is father by a fiction. In the 
 "Huguenots," the heroine Valentine is mariied to Baoul de Kangis 
 in the street of Paris during the massacre of St. Bartholomew, by 
 the old squire Marcello. According to German usage and law, 
 such a marriage was sufficient. Marcello was assumed by fiction 
 to be "Valentine's father, and, as such, he performed the transfer. 
 
 In the metrical tales of the thirteenth century, the person who 
 solemnises the marriage is the emperor or king, sometimes the 
 host : in Wernher's " Meier Helmbrecht," it is any old man " der 
 solche Dinge kann," which we may render "up to doing the job." 
 In the English Marriage Service we see the trace of the same idea. 
 The priest a>ks, " Who giveth this woman in marriage ? " and the 
 father or fictitious father signifies that he does. 
 
 Originally the church had nothing to do with marriage. Both 
 espousal and marriage were civil acts. When the priest was 
 present at betrothal it was simply as a witness. He had also 
 nothing to do with the actual marriage, or transfer. That was 
 performed by the guardian. After the marriage it was customary 
 for the couple to attend church together; their first appearance 
 at mass was their first appearance in public after their union. In 
 the Nibelungenlied, Gunther and Brunhild, Siegfried and Kriem- 
 hild, go to the minster on the morning after their marriage. 
 They make then their first appearance together in public, and are 
 crowned. 
 
 In " Metzenhochzit " we have a graphic picture of a wedding 
 among peasant farmers in the thirteenth or fourteenth century : 
 the scene laid probably in Upper Swabia. Young Barschi (Bar- 
 
104 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 tholoraew) loves young Metzi (Mechtild), and they are betrothed. 
 Her parents promise, as her dower, three beehives, a horse, a cow, 
 a calf, and a goat; and Barschi gives, as Witthum, a yoke of 
 flaxland, two sheep, a cock and fourteen hens, and a pound of 
 pennies. 
 
 It is then agreed that they shall be married without " scholars 
 and parsons." 1 i.e. without religious ceremony, according to old 
 German* fashion, and no yielding to new-fangled ideas. Conse- 
 quently a gieat feast is prepared, all the neighbours with their 
 wives and daughters are invited, each guest is given a bucket of 
 beer, and " they sucked and they drank, till their tongues could 
 wag no longer." Then tin nips and bacon are produced, and the 
 guests goige themselves with "hands and beards glossy with 
 grease." Next come sausage and the bridal porridge. 
 
 Then follow the flight, chase, and capture of the bride, and 
 she is conducted to the marriage chamber. 
 
 As Morgengabe Barschi gives Metzi a fat poiker, and then, not 
 till then, the pair go, preceded by the village band of pipers and 
 drummers, to church, where the bridal mass is sung. 2 
 
 It was much the same with another Mechtild in a far higher 
 rank of life, now a saint on the altars of the Catholic Chinch. 
 Henry I. repudiated his wife Hadburg to marry her. She was the 
 daughter and heiress of Count Dietrich of Eingelheim, and was 
 educated by her grandmother in the convent of Heiford. He went 
 to the convent, drew her thence, and conveyed her with all dignity 
 to Walhausen, where he held the bridal banquet. Next morning 
 he gave her the revenues of the town of Walhausen as Morgen- 
 gabe. In this case the Church was not invited to intervene. 
 
 The newly married pair at the first mass were wont to receive 
 the Communion, make an offering, and receive the benediction of 
 the priest. But soon a special ma-s, " Mis-a pro sponsis," was 
 employed, with appropriate Epistle, Gospel, and Post-communion. 
 Assistance at the mass did not make nor strengthen the marriage; 
 the union was valid and complete in itself without the religious 
 ceremony; but it was felt, and rightly felr, that so seiious a step 
 in life as marriage required a special benediction from heaven. 
 
 In the Middle Ages the Church attempted a reform of the 
 betrothal. She endeavoured to make that a public and a sacred 
 
 1 " Ohne Schuoler und Pfaffcn." * Liedersaal, iii. 399 sq. 
 
Marriage. 105 
 
 rite. She required that betrothal should take place before the 
 priest and witnesses, and that at it should be formally announced 
 what Wirthum the bridegroom purposed to give, so that there 
 might be no after dispute on this point. But, apparently, the 
 people did not take kin<lly to this interference, and instead of 
 giving it up, the Church allowed the two ceremonies to be run 
 together, much as in the English morning prayer, matins, and 
 litany, and communion are lumped, though originally intended to 
 be distinct services performed at different hours of the day. 1 
 
 The betrothal took place as before, as a purely secular cere- 
 mony, in the house of the bride, and the Chureh merely rehearsed 
 and published before the church-door what was already concluded 
 elsewhere. In a Ritual of Rennes, of the eleventh century, we 
 find a rubric to this effect : " The priest shall go before the door of 
 the church in surplice and stole, and ask the bridegroom and bride 
 prudently whether they desire to be legally united; and then he 
 shall male the parents give her away, according to the usual custom, 
 and the bridegroom shall fix the dower, announcing before all pre- 
 sent what (Wit'hum) he intends to give the bride. Then the 
 priest shall make him betroth her with a ring, and give. her a 
 honorarium of gold or silver according to his means. Then let him 
 give the prescribed benediction. After which, entering into the 
 church, let him begin mass; and let the bridegroom and bride hold 
 lighted candles, and make an oblation at the offirtory ; and before 
 the Pax let the priest bless them before the altar under a pall or 
 other covering, according to custom, and lastlv, let the bridegroom 
 receive the kiss of peace from the priest and pass it on to his bride." 
 
 We see in this the outline of the Anglican service, which 
 scrupulously follows the mediaeval type. The Anglican office is 
 divided into two parts the first " in the body of the church," the 
 second at the altar. The body of the church was substituted for 
 "be r ore the door" as a concession to the English climate and 
 brides' rl roses. The honorarium is not given to the bride, but 
 pocketed by the parson. "The man shall give unto the woman a 
 
 1 This Friedberg deputes : lie contends that the betrothal before the church- 
 door was nn at empt bv the Church to mar the real Yerlobung, so as to divest 
 the private contract of lepra' ri<;ht. and to run the t*vo parts of marriage together. 
 If 6o. the Church Ihib wholly fai.ed in effecting this. — Friedberg: Verlubung u. 
 Training. Leipz. 1876. 
 
106 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 ring, laying the same upon the hook with the accustomed duty 
 (honorarium) to the priest and clerk. And the priest taking the 
 ring shall deliver it (only) to the man," etc. It is generally sup- 
 posed that the parson has the right to give the first kiss to the 
 hride. With other superstitions of Papal times, the mediate kiss 
 through the bridegi - oom has been abandoned. 
 
 But all the first part of the Marriage Service was felt to be a 
 " vain repetition." It was unreal. The betrothal had taken place 
 before as a secular act, and the rite at the church-door was an 
 empty echo of a completed transaction. This was seen by the 
 bishops and theologians assembled at the Council of Trent, and 
 they cut off this first part as superfluous, and retained only the 
 Bridal Mass with benediction. The Church abandoned thereby 
 the pretence of uniting the betrothed, and retained her proper 
 function of bestowing divine sanction and blessing on the union 
 already entered upon. The priest had stepped into the place of 
 the anybody " up to doing the job," and had acted by fiction as 
 the guardian or father. The Council of Trent displaced him, and 
 restored the marriage to its original form. 
 
 By German law, we must again repeat, the betrothal was the 
 completion but not the conclusion of marriage. It was the com- 
 pletion of the purchase, but not the entering on possession. 
 Betrothal lacked the positive characteristics of marriage. It was 
 not the taking home of the wife, it was not the transfer of complete 
 authority, it was not the entering into possession of her person 
 and property. But, nevertheless, betrothal was invested with 
 matrimonial rights. German laws unanimously declare the indis- 
 solul'ility of the tie. Breach of promise is the same as adultery, 
 Death, by Lombard, Burgundian, and Wisigoth law, was the 
 penalty on the woman attending breach of troth after Verlobung 
 as af'er Trauung. 
 
 By Alemannic law, the man who carried off a wife was con- 
 demned to pay eighty solidi, and if he did not restore her 400 
 more. The man who eloped with a betrothed girl had to pay 200 
 solidi, and if she were not returned to her guardian, 400 more. 
 By Bavarian law, 160 solidi was the Wehrgeld for betrothed as 
 for wife. 
 
 Wh'-n King Theodebert let seven years elapse without fetching 
 home his betrothed, popular indignation was so strong that he was 
 
Marriage. 107 
 
 forced to dismiss his concubine and " take his bride to him as 
 wife." * A Prague statute of 1364 says, " Those are truly married 
 people (Heirezleute), who have been betrothed (gelubet)." 
 
 This view was clean opposed to that proclaimed .by Eoman law. 
 By this latter, marriage consists in the consensus nujrtialis, i.e., the 
 living together of husband and wife with maritalis affedio, intent 
 to regard one another in the light of husband and wife. Marriage 
 is not constituted by any ceremonial act or transfer, but by actual 
 matrimonial union. It follows therefore that by Roman law, 
 espousal or betrothal is a promise (stipulatio) at some future time 
 to unite in marriage, but is nothing further. It is the initiation 
 of marriage, but only that. 
 
 Canon law in Italy was based on Roman law, and adopted the 
 Roman view of espousals. But when the jurists had to construct 
 canon law to meet the requirements of Cisalpine peoples, they 
 were obliged to accept facts and make the best of them. How to 
 reconcile the two theories of marriage was a constant difficulty. 
 After quoting and discussing certain authorities and cases, Gratian 
 concludes : " From all these authorities it is clear that the be- 
 trothed (desponsati) are married (conjuges')" But St. Augustine 
 and Leo the Great, knowing only Roman law, had taught that the 
 essence of marriage lay in the union of the parties ; and con- 
 sequently that an imperfect union was dissoluble. Gratian tried 
 to harmonise these doctrines thus : — 
 
 " Sciendum est quod conjugium desponsatione initiatur, com- 
 mixtione perficitur — unde inter sponsum et sponsam conjugium 
 est, sed initiation ; inter copulatos est conjugium ratum." In the 
 case of the marri ige of Henry VIII. with Catherine of Arragon, 
 there rose a conflict between Roman and Teutonic law. Catherine, 
 according to the latter, had been married to his brother, because 
 she had been betrothed to him, therefore Henry's union with her 
 was incestuous. Gallican and German canon law was on this point 
 in accord with the Teutonic theory. But such was not the Roman 
 doctrine, as there had been only a betrothal and not a perfected 
 marriage with the deceased prince. A Cologne summary of canon 
 law of 1170, speaking of the two doctrines of marriage, says 
 plainly, " On this question the Gallican and the Transalpine 
 churches disagree." 
 
 1 Greg. Turon. H. F. iii. 27. 
 
10& Germany. Present and Past. 
 
 The canonists endeavoured to bridge the difference by a curioiw 
 distinction, purely aitificial, between espousals " de pruesente " and 
 " de futuro;" that is, they asserted that a betrothal in the present 
 tense was a valid marriage and brought it under German law, 
 whereas a betrothal in the future tense was the Roman espousal, 
 and not binding. A Parisian Summa of the twelfth century says, 
 "The Church of the French teaches differently (from the Roman 
 Church), that if there has been an espousal in the present tense, as 
 ' I take you as mine,' on both sides, this constitutes a valid mar- 
 riage. Consequently, though a woman be actually united to 
 another man, she is bound to return to the first." 
 
 The same Summa says further, "Marriage now-a-daj'S takes 
 place, not according to the (Roman) laws, but according to the 
 Cations." The Canons call a betrothal a "full, perfect, and com- 
 plete" marriage. 1 Luther in his Tract " Von Ehesachen " (1530), 
 plainly adhered to the Teutonic, popular, and canonical theory. 
 " However bad a betrothal may be," he says, " it is soon settled : 
 no other is permissible, for the betrothal is a true marriage before 
 God and the world ; " and further, " An openly betrothed wench 
 (Dime) is a wife (Ehefrau), and this public betrothal forms a right 
 honourable marriage. Consequently he (the bridegroom) is cer- 
 tainly a proper husband, and as amongst us it is not fitting that a 
 man should have more than one wife, he has no more power over 
 his body, and cannot take another without committing adultery." 
 
 As may well be supposed, the greatest confusion reigned in 
 social relations. No abuse could arise under the old system hedged 
 round with guarantees. But the hedge had been broken through 
 on all sides, and every guarantee was gone when the maiden was 
 allowed to dispose of liersvlf freely, and fix her fate irrevocably 
 with a " Ja ! " with not a witness by. Here and there, indeed, the 
 Church had attempted to intervene and insist on the betrothal 
 being made before witnesses and blessed by the priest, but such 
 attempts were local and not general. The reader may remember 
 the pretty picture of religious betrothal in Lamartine's " Gene- 
 vieve," where the bride <ioes to church in a new gown, which she 
 afterwards gives to the Virgin. But the ceremonial of the Cliurch 
 universally was associated with the Traditio pnellse, and the espousal 
 was generally left a secular transaction. The result was that, 
 1 " Ratum, perfectum, consummatuin matrimonium." 
 
Marriage. 109 
 
 when the guardian became a nonentity, all control over espousals 
 was h>t, all control, that is, over the essential transaction. The 
 Church was called to bless a union, but had no means of assuring 
 herself that this union was legitimate — that the persons asking 
 her blessing had not betrothed themselves secretly to others. As 
 an inevitable consequence, applications for divorce were frequent, 
 on the plea that those married publicly had been previously 
 contracted to others. 
 
 Luther thus graphically sketches the confusion : — " It has often 
 fallen out that a married pair came for me, and that one or both 
 had already been secretly betrothed to another : then there was 
 a case of distress and perplexity : and we confe-sors and theolo- 
 gians were expected to give counsel to those tortured consciences. 
 But how couLl we? Official right and custom pronounced the 
 first secret betrothal to be a legitimate marriage. So off they 
 went and severed the second marriage, and offered to obseive the 
 first betrothal. They had already, may be, ten children in their 
 public married state, and had thrown their property into a common 
 fund. They must, however, part. God grant that the first bride- 
 groom be at hand to acknowledge the claim, but often enough 
 he is already married, and not prepared to cast off his wife to take 
 the applicant to his arms. Moreover, when such a betrothal was 
 secret and confirmed by no witnesses, and the other marriage 
 was public and ratified by the Church, there was a pulling in two 
 directions. First, the woman was obliged, as a matter of con- 
 science, to regard her private betrothal as a true marriage in the 
 sight of God, and yet she was bound by obligations laid on her 
 publicly, and recognised, to associate, night and day, with a man 
 who was not her real husband. No one would believe in the first 
 betrothal, which was known only to God, every one was aware of 
 the other, which had taken place in public. What was a poor 
 conscience to do in such a case ? " 
 
 Another characteristic passage occurs in Luther's " Table- 
 Talk. " " When I was in my cloister many an one came to me, 
 and said, 'Dear sir, I have got a wife 'to whom I was privately 
 betrothed. What am I to do, dear doctor? help me, lest I despair! 
 Gretel, to whom I betrothed myself, is my true wife (Eheweib), 
 But Barbara, who has since been married to me (vertraut), is not 
 my wife ; and yet I am forced to live with her. I may not take 
 
113 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 Gretel, as I gladly would, for I am wedded to another, and Gretel 
 also has a husband — nobody knowing that she is my very true 
 wife, save God alone. I shall be damned! I do not know how 
 to get out of this hobble.' Then comes the Pope with his dis- 
 ciples, the jurists, and says, he must stick to Barbara whom he 
 has taken to wife before all the world, but in his heart of hearts 
 must cleave to Gretel, as his true wife, to whom he was secretly 
 betrothed. So he must not fulfil his marriage obligations to 
 either ! He cannot shake off Barbara, who has gone to church 
 with him, and he cannot take his true wife Gretel." 
 
 The Pope and the canonists were not to blame, as Luther tried 
 to make out. The difficulty sprang out of the altered position of 
 woman under laws framed for a different condition of society. 
 The Cisalpine canonists had done what they could to make some 
 practical working theory by which to govern marriage arrange- 
 ments, which should not run counter to Teutonic and Gallican 
 custom and law ; they had failed, but that was because the two 
 doctrines were irreconcilable. 
 
 It was absolutely necessary for some order to be introduced 
 into matrimonial connections. Either the betrothal must be 
 declated a valid marriage or not. Common sense would suggest, 
 If it be, then take precautions that it be not abused. 
 
 Luther, as we shall see presently, made over the regulation of 
 marriage to the State ; but his own opinion was in accordance 
 with Old German Law ; and the Lutheran Church followed him 
 till the eighteenth century, in treating betrothal as marriage. 
 The bishops and canonists assembled at the Council of Trent took 
 a different line. Two things had to^be reconciled — German custom 
 and Eoman custom. Where betrothal was regarded as valid 
 marriage it should take place before witnesses — that seemed a 
 reasonable provision; and to secure that, where German views of 
 betrothal prevailed, the nuptial benediction should not be pro- 
 nounced over the wrong parties, it was requisite that the parish 
 priest should be cognisant of all betrothals. Consequently, the 
 Council of Trent ordered that betrothals should take place before 
 at least three witnesses, of whom the parish priest should be 
 one. If the Roman Church does not now exact his assistance at 
 espousals, it is because, with the general adoption of Roman law, 
 and Roman views of the relations between espousals and marriage, 
 
Marriage. Ill 
 
 the necessity for the priest witnessing betrothals has passed away. 
 But the Tridentine fathers made another regulation concerning 
 marriage. They reduced the ceremony, as of obligation, to its 
 original form, a benediction of the union. Wliere the old forms of 
 rehearsing the espousal at the church door had commended them- 
 selves to the people, they were not ruthlessly to be cut away, they 
 were to be tolerated, but not exacted. 
 
 The reception of Roman law in Germany created a revolution 
 in the legal doctrine of marriage. Roman law came in with the 
 perruques. 
 
 In the seventeenth century Paulus Cypraeus argued that the 
 current view of espousals was wrong, that betrothal was not 
 marriage, but a looking forward to marriage, by mutual consent ; 
 and that, therefore, a betrothal was dissoluble. He started the 
 ball and others gave it a kick. Theologians and jurists began to 
 distinguish between the consensus sponsalitius and the consensus 
 matrimonialis. At the close of the seventeenth century the dis- 
 tinction was a favourite theme for the theses of candidates for the 
 doctorial degree. Finally, Puffendorf formulated the Roman law 
 of maniage in his book " De Jure Naturae et Gentium," which 
 became a standard authority. Boemer took the same line in his 
 work for Protestant ecclesiastical law, " Jus Ecclesiasticum Pro- 
 testantium," and, though pretending to found his doctrine of 
 marriage on natural right, he actually followed Roman law. 
 Boemer completely revolutionised the received Lutheran views. 
 
 The new doctrine was accepted by one State after another, 
 and passed into its legislation. The Lutheran Church woke to 
 suppose the religious ceremony was of essential importance. 
 German popular opinion and tradition suddenly found itself at 
 variance with secular and ecclesiastical law. In the Prussian code 
 stood the novel declaration, "A valid marriage is effected by 
 priestly ministration." x 
 
 The betrothal, which had been slight but strong, like the bond 
 that bound Fenrir, was now transformed into a cord of sand. The 
 word of promise was vox et prseterea nihil. It mattered not how 
 many engagements had been made before marriage, they were 
 cancelled by the nuptials. Before, betrothals were everything, 
 marriage nothing ; now the positions were legally reversed. But 
 1 Preussisches Landrccht, Th. ii. Tit. i. § 136. 
 
112 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 popular opinion is of tough texture. It has persisted in con- 
 sidering an en";a<red couple as bride and bridegroom, in confound- 
 ing Geinahl with Verlobter, in regarding a breach of promise as 
 a scandal scarce second to a divorce. It allows an intimacy 
 between the betrothed which in England would hardly be allowed; 
 it explains, if it does not excuse, the fact, that so few peasant 
 brides have any claim to wear the myrtle wreath ; it accounts for 
 some village customs which we do not care to describe. It accounts 
 for the fact that so little disgrace attaches to a girl who is the 
 mother of illegitimate children. She has been betrothed, and, 
 therefore, married in the sight of God and in the opinion of the 
 public, whatever the new-fangled laws may say. Mischievous 
 Malthusian legislation forbade her being taken home by her 
 Gemahl, but no legislation can interfere with her bearing him a 
 family in her father's house. A few years ago I was in the best 
 
 inn in the pretty village of M , a Protestant village in the 
 
 Franconian uplands. The landlord's daughter, a fair, modest- 
 looking girl, with honest blue eyes, had her little ones hanging 
 about her skirts, and though unmarried, and one of the first peisons 
 in the village, felt no shame in being so seen. She was betrothed* 
 but the Hath and Beamter forbade the marriage, i.e. the taking 
 home of the bride, because the bridegroom could not satisfy them 
 that his finances would support a family. 
 
 On February 0, 1875, the Imperial Government carried the 
 following law : — "Marriage is to be concluded in the presence of 
 two witnesses by the betrothed persons severally declaring their 
 agreement, when asked by the proper officer whether they 
 announce their intention of uniting in marriage with one another, 
 and by his thereupon proclaiming that they are legally married." 1 
 "A clergyman or other minister of religion is not to execute this 
 office, nor to act as substitute for the proper officer." 2 
 
 "When the first rocket rushed among the Ashantecs, the blacks 
 fell flat on their backs and gelled. The discharge of this law pro- 
 duced a somewhat similar effect among the Evangelical clergy of 
 German}'. They were for the moment paralysed, and then, from 
 one end of the empire to the other, raided a wail of despair. The 
 opening of the registrar offices in England for civil marriages has 
 
 » Law of Feb. 6, 1875, (EeicU-GewtzMatt, p. 23), 4ter Absch. § 62. 
 * Ibid. Iter Abscli. § 3. 
 
Marriage. 113 
 
 not materially diminished the number of ecclesiastical marriages, 
 partly because such civil marriages are facultative, not compulsory, 
 partly because the idea of the necessity of a religious solemnisation 
 as at all events decent is deeply ingrained in the English mind. 
 But in Germany the effect was very different. In 1876, for 
 instance, out of 100 marriages, in Darmstadt 34-5, in Worms 44, 
 in Offenbach 48-6, were performed before the registrar only. Each 
 of these towns has got a certain number of Roman Catholic in- 
 habitants : in Worms one-third, or 5,000 persons, are Catholics : 
 and these, probably without exception, go from the civil bureau 
 to the church for the sacramental blessing of the piiest. It is 
 therefore probable that only about half of the Protestant mar- 
 riages in towns ate solemnised by the pastor. In the country it 
 is different, where religion has not completely lost its hold on the 
 population. 
 
 The new law has placed Ihe Evangelical Church in a position 
 of great difficulty. Luther and the Evangelical Church, as well 
 as the Reformed (Calvin ist) Church, repudiated the idea of there 
 being anything saci amenta! in marriage, any special grace given 
 by the benediction of the pastor. Luther characterised marriage 
 as a purely "secular matter (weltliches Ding)." Brenz, the Re- 
 former of Wiirtemberg, declared emphatically, " The marriage 
 contract, like all other secular contracts, can be solemnised (ver- 
 richtet) in town-halls, or any other public, common, convenient, 
 civil buildings or offices." 1 Luther said : " So many countries, so 
 many customs, says the proverb; and as matrimony or the mar- 
 riage state is a secular affair, it is not fitting that we clergy and 
 servants of the Church should order or rule anything concerning 
 it, but leave each country and town to follow its own usages and 
 devices. Some like to lead the bride twice to church, in the 
 evening and in the morning, some once; some announce the mar- 
 riage by calling the banns two or three weeks before; but all such 
 matters I leave to the princes and town-councils to settle and 
 direct as they see fitting — it. is no concern of mine. But if people 
 ask for the church and wish to be blessed and prayed over in the 
 church, or even to be there united, it is our duty to accommodate 
 
 1 Brenz, in his abhorrence of eeliliacy and his eagerness to couple everybody, 
 taught that maidenhood (Jungfiaulichkeit) was an unholy estate — "eiu un- 
 heiliger Stand." 
 
 I 
 
114 Germany, Present and Past 
 
 them." l The Lutheran view is qtiite intelligible. There is no 
 violent break with German usage. The Reformers did not 
 originate the civil theory of marriage, they fell in with the pre- 
 vailing conception of it. When they rejected the doctrine of 
 Catholicism, that the sacramental benediction of the priest con- 
 veyed divine help to maintain a Christian union in love and 
 purity, and was designed to raise a carnal connection into a sacred 
 bond, they were logically obliged to fall back on the doctrine that 
 marriage is a mere matter of State police. The Reformers there- 
 fore taught that marriage needed no religious service to cement 
 it, but that a religious ceremony might be superadded to the civil 
 contract as a concession to old-fashioned prejudice, as a pious usage 
 not to be lightly abandoned because it was of sentimental rather 
 than of actual importance. Luther accordingly drew up two 
 short sketches of services, which have formed the groundwork of 
 all later mai-riage rites in the Evangelical Church, and which 
 were themselves constructed out of the pre-Reformation offices. 
 These pre-Reformation services consisted of two parts — the re- 
 hearsal of the betrothing at the door, and then the mass, con- 
 cluding with the sacramental benediction. Luther laid the whole 
 stress in his formularies on the rehearsed betrothal, cut out the 
 mass, but retained the benediction, as a pious hope and prayer 
 expressed by the pastor that divine blessing might rest on the 
 couple. 
 
 But though the Protestant Church solemnised nuptials, it con- 
 tinued to hold that betrothal was true marriage. In a Wittenberg 
 confession of 1597, the separation of those betrothed was forbidden: 
 " for betrothal is a true, binding marriage concluded between man 
 and woman before God and the world, although the parties may 
 not have been wedded (getraut) and blessed by the priest, as is 
 Christian custom and usage." In the year 1567 a Lutheran town- 
 council informed the Wittenberg Church Consistory that it had 
 become very customary for those betrothed to live together before 
 they were married, and asked whether it would not be well to 
 interfere and prevent, or punish cohabitation. The Consistory 
 answered in the negative : " as with betrothal a true marriage is 
 
 1 In the Latin version : " Si vero a nobis petitur, ut desponsatos vel ante vel 
 intra tempi um copulemus, eis benedicanius aut pro ipsis oremus, hoc sane ipsis 
 officii debemus." 
 
Marriage. 115 
 
 contracted, and persons thus cohabiting are to be treated as truly 
 married." 
 
 The Lutheran theologian Dunte in his " Casus Conscientiae," in 
 1634, laid down: " The consent of two contracting persons makes 
 marriage, and the presence of the priest is not necessaty." The 
 Leipzig theological faculty, in 1620, decreed that ''the consent of 
 two contracting parties, i.e. of a man and woman, not already 
 married, having pleasure and love in each other, constitutes mar- 
 riage,'! and that ecclesiastical union is a matter not of divine 
 appointment, but of " human ordinance." 
 
 A curious instance of the application of this doctrine occurs in 
 the transactions of the Eostock courts in the seventeenth century. 
 A certain Hans Steinmann, citizen of Liibeck, was betrothed to a 
 damsel named Engel, but died, in 1637, before the marriage took 
 place. She thereupon claimed her share of his property as his 
 widow, and her claim was recognised. 1 
 
 When the law on civil marriage was passed, and couples were 
 bound to appear before the registrar, the significance of the Pro- 
 testant rite was lost. The registrar had joined the couple, con- 
 sequently the pastor could not do this again without appealing to 
 call in question the validity of the secular marriage. A century 
 and a half ago no trouble or difficulty on this score could have 
 arisen in the Evangelical Church ; but the present generation of 
 pastors has been educated under the influence of Bcemer's " Jus 
 Ecclesiasticum," and has come to regard marriage by a pastor as 
 essentially constituting Christian marriage as distinguished from 
 concubinage. 
 
 Before 1848, obligatory civil marriage existed only in Rhenish 
 Prussia, Ehein-Hessen, and the Bavarian Palatinate, which had fallen 
 under French law. It is curious that, at the great Frankfurt National 
 Assembly in that year, where the Catholic repiesentatives were in 
 force, they raised no objection to civil marriage, having learned by 
 experience that it did not interfere with Church practices. 
 
 In 1855 facultative civil marriage was introduced into Olden- 
 burg, in 1850 it was made obligatory in Frankfurt-on-Maine, and 
 in 1869 in Baden. Prussian legislation was more hesitating. 
 
 1 So in 1637 ; but in 1757, when Roman law had made its way, the Rostock 
 magistrates made a d< cree reversing previous practice. " A betrothed person, in 
 the event of the death of the betrothed, may uot inherit of the deceased, but the 
 survivor may only wear a mourning dress." 
 
1 1G Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 In 1831, when divorce w;is made easy, and shower! a tendency 
 to become frequent, the pastors took alarm. According to the old 
 Lutheran theory that marriage was a secular contract with which 
 the Church had nothing to do, and might not interfere, the pastors 
 were bound to marry all whom the Srate allowed to contract 
 unions together. But several pastors held that this was a case 
 not contemplated by Luther, or that it was one for which he did 
 not provide, believing that Scripture was sufficiently explicit on 
 the point. Civil marriage was then not possible, except for Jews; 
 and the case of divorced persons seeking marriage became a 
 burning question. In 1831, a pastor in Pomerania refused his 
 ministrations to bless a union which was a public scandal. In 
 1833 a similar case occurred in Westphalia, and by 1845 there 
 were as many as twenty-five such cases; of these seven had been 
 refused by Geilach, a Berlin clergyman. Government did not 
 interfere, as it was found that where one pastor was scrupulous 
 two were less nice. In 1844 appeared a new law regulating 
 divorce, and a royal order of January 30, 1816, required the 
 Church to lay down disciplinary regulations, so as not to leave 
 the refusal of marriage to the discretion of individual pastors* 
 and, in Jthe meantime, to provide a flying squadron of unscru- 
 pukms chaplains who might be sent about the country and into 
 the parishes of recalcitrant ministers to hallow these unsavouiy 
 unions. 
 
 In 1859 the Prussian Government introduced two bills in 
 succession to authorise facultative civil marriage, but both weie 
 rejected by the House of Lords. 
 
 Shortly before the law of 1875 was signed, the Evangelical 
 Church Governing Council (Oberkirchenrath) of Berlin was sum- 
 moned by Government to revise the Protectant formulary of 
 marriage so as to remove every word which might be taken to 
 cast a slur on the foregoing secular union. The Council had 
 issued a provisional office on September 21, 1874. This defined 
 the marriage by the pastor as the exaction from the already 
 wedded couple " of a vow before God that they will conduct their 
 union till death in a Christian manner and in accordance with the 
 word of God." The form of joining the betrothed was exscinded, 
 so as to give no occasion to the supposition that the Church 
 regarded them as not united till they came before the altar. Ko 
 
Marriage. 117 
 
 promise to take one another was demanded, but only an under- 
 taking to live together " in a Christian and orderly manner." As 
 the preface says, every precaution was taken by elimination and 
 alteration " to remove the impression that the Church regarded 
 the marriage as one still to be concluded — i.e. of appearing to 
 • leny the matrimonial authority of the civil act." The Cas>el, 
 Kiel, and Waldeck Consistories adopted an almost identical form. 
 But the Hanoverian Synod of November 1874 would not abandon 
 the form of uniting the couple (Zusammensprechen). The Berlin 
 formulary met with the liveliest opposition from the "orthodox" 
 party in the Established Church. In September 1875, some six 
 hundred pastors of this party met in conference and formulated 
 their opposition. 
 
 But the Government is not prepared to tolerate any ecclesias 
 tical pretensions on the part of the Evangelical clergy any more 
 than on that of the Catholic priesthood. The Hanoverian Lutheran 
 Church has been incorporated in the Prussian Union, and six of 
 its pastors have withdrawn from it rather than use the mutilated 
 marriage rite. In Schleswig-Hobtein, in Hesse-Darmstadt, in 
 Baden, there have been similar secessions. In Baden the Ober- 
 kinhenrath ] produced a new liturgy with amended marriage 
 formulary in June, 1877, quite in conformity with the Prussian 
 service. Rings are still allowed to be exchanged, and the pastor 
 joining the hands s lys : " Your solemn vows, which you have given 
 each other before God, I, by virtue of my office, accept as an 
 undertaking by you to lead together a Christian wedded life, and 
 so I bless your union in the name," etc. 
 
 If law in Germany has been capricious in the view it has 
 taken of the relations existing between betrothal and matrimony, 
 it has not been less capricious in the way in which it has at one 
 time favoured, at another hindered marriage. In the Middle 
 Ages privileges and advantages were accorded to the married 
 which were denied to bachelors. In Hanover, the Palatinate, and 
 Brunswick, the estate of a single man on death reverted to the 
 
 1 The Oberkirchenrath or Governing Council is not in Ba<len, any more than 
 in Prussia, a representative synod. It consists entirely of State nominees — a 
 President, who is a lawyer and Staalsrath, another legal officer, three Kam- 
 meralister (managers of the Church finances), and three theologians, — all 
 appointed by the Grand-Duke. 
 
118 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 State. Difficulties arose about the property of priests* and the 
 legal faculty at Halle published a decision that only the property 
 of wilful bachelors was to be confiscated, " because through wicked- 
 ness and levity they had despised matrimony." At Halle only 
 married men as heads of households could enjoy the rights of 
 citizens and the salt privileges. In Brandenburg, law was equally 
 severe on these evaders of the chief duty of man. As late as 1683 
 the village authorities were required not to harbour young un- 
 married persons, but to look them up, and, whether citizens or 
 servants, tu see that all who had attained the age of twenty were 
 married. In 1722 this law was re-enacted, bur. the age at which 
 domestic f. licity was rammed down men's throats was placed at 
 five-and-twenty. No man was allowed to evade marriage and 
 remain in the land. The bachelor who transgressed his twentieth 
 or five-and- twentieth birthday was arrested, dragged before the 
 Burgmeister and Rath, and ordered to fall in love and marry, at 
 least the latter, within the month, or be cast out of the parish and 
 doomed to vagabondage. 
 
 A person of either sex condemned to death was given free 
 pardon and release on receiving an offer of marriage. This custom, 
 which prevailed also in France, has formed the basis of one of 
 Balzac's tales in his foul " Contes Drolatiques." As late as 1725 
 this law or usage was in force. A woman capitally sentenced for 
 repeated thefts, in Switzerland, obtained her pardon and discharge 
 on a Swabian weaver offering to marry her. His grandfather had 
 in like manner saved a woman from being broken on the wheel, 
 and she had brought a blessing on the house and family. Marriage 
 in German minds was thought to purge away crime. 
 
 But at the end of last century Malthus taught that " men multi- 
 plied in geometrical, and provisions in arithmetical progression," and 
 that the State should therefore check marriages, and, where means 
 were not sufficient to support a family in comfort, to prohibit them. 
 The teaching of Malthus was taken up by a shoal of advocates 
 on the platform and in the press; and the German Governments 
 became uneasy and alarmed at the rapid increase in population. 
 Bavaria, a poor land of mountain, sandy flats, and forest, became 
 most anxious to arrest the growth. Laws were passed throwing 
 every conceivable impediment in the way of marriage, making it a 
 privilege of the rich and an impossibility for the poor. Candidates 
 
Marriage. 119 
 
 for hymeneal happiness were required to appear before official 
 Boards and prove that they had fortunes which could dower 
 daughters and set up sons in life. They had not merely to count 
 their chickens before they were hatched, but also to satisfy the 
 village vestry that they had barley oti which to feed and fatten them. 
 How these laws acted, common sense will tell. In 1870, the pa.stor 
 of the Evangelical German Church at Paris stated that there were 
 in the French capital 10,000 from Darmstadt alone, occupied as 
 street- sweepers, who had fled their country to escape compulsory 
 celibacy. In 1772, men ran away to avoid compulsory marriage. 
 That these laws should enormously raise the percentage of ille- 
 gitimate births was not to be woudered at. Bavaria has not yet 
 recovered the demoralizing effect of Malthusian legislation. The 
 proportion now is 13*70 per cent., the same as in Berlin, but it is 
 declining annually. The same detestable interference with the 
 libeity of marriage prevailed till quite recently in Austria and 
 Tyrol, making it quite impossible for a man to marry who could 
 not prove to the authorities that he had a fixed annual income 
 on which a family could be maintained in comfort. Thus, a wood- 
 cutter coxild not marry, for he earned wages in winter only; he 
 might pick up chance work in the summer, but as it is not certain 
 work it counts for nothing — he is not permitted to marry. The 
 morals of a people do not recover the deteriorating effects of such 
 laws at a leap. Prussia alone, of the States of the Bund, placed 
 no impediments in the way of marriage. In Meeklenberg, on the 
 contrary, the Malthusian laws weie in full force; the population 
 decreased, and the price of labour roso. After a while the North 
 German Bund followed the example of Prussia, and later these 
 laws were cancelled everywhere in South Germany. 
 
 The law of February 6, 1875, for the whole Empire, makes 
 every man of age to contract a marriage when twenty years old, 
 and every girl at the completion of her sixteenth year; but no 
 man may marry without consent of his guardian (father or other- 
 wise) till he is five-and-tweuty, no woman till she is four-and- 
 twenty. There is no Imperial legislation to decide whether 
 marriage contracted without consent of guardians is to be held 
 as valid or not, and this question is answered differently in different 
 States. An union without consent of the parents is not legally 
 void in Hanover, in Kur- Hesse, Nassau, Hamburg, the kingdom of 
 
120 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 Saxony, Saxe-Gotha, Saxe-Altenburg, and the greater part of 
 Bavaria. But a marriage without consent of parents is absolutely 
 null in Ansbach, Bah'euth, Kempten, Kaufbeuren, and Solvns. 
 
 By the law of 1875, only soldiers and Government officials are 
 not allowed to contract unions without special authorisation. "All 
 other regulations which have hindered the rights of persons to 
 contract marriage, except such as are defined in this law, are 
 abolished." 1 
 
 "We might have supposed that with this " Morgengabe " of the 
 Imperial Chancellor to United Germany, marriages would have 
 increased. But this has not been the case. There has, on the 
 contrary, been a steady decrease, whilst the population has grown. 
 Whereas, in 1872, there were in Germany 423,900 marriages, with 
 a population of 41,058,780, in 1876 there were only 360,912 
 marriages, with a population of 42,752,555. In Berlin alone, in 
 one year, there has been a falling off' to the number of 2,435. 2 
 
 The decline in number is due partly to the stagnation in trade, 
 but chiefly to universal military service. Every man is now a 
 soldier with the colours from the age of twenty for three years, 
 and then in the Reserve for four years longer. Thus he cannot 
 begin to work for his livelihood till he is twenty-three, and then 
 for four years longer he is hampered with military drills for two 
 months out of the twelve. 3 
 
 What has been given with one hand has been withdrawn with 
 the other. The first and best years of a man's life are taken from 
 him, and it is rarely possible for him now to found a household 
 before he is forty. Universal militaiy service is Malthusian legis- 
 lation under another form and another name : it is equally ruinous 
 to the welfare of a country. Prosperity is to be found in burying 
 the dragon's teeth that men may spring up, not in rooting men out 
 of the soil and converting them into murderous fangs. 
 
 Th re is one point on which a word must be said before the 
 subject of German marriages is dismissed, viz. the effect on morality 
 
 1 3tcr Abscli. § 39. The law forbids unions between blood- rein t ions, between 
 guardians and their wards, between those divorced for adultery and the persons 
 with whom it was committed. 
 
 2 In 1S75 there were 14,528, in 1876, only 12,093. 
 
 3 In Westphalia, Hanover, and Schleswi^-IIolstein, military service is from 
 the 21st to the 29th year. 
 
Marriage. 121 
 
 of the absence of the religions element in marriage. From the 
 earliest period in Germany, as has heen shown, marriage was 
 regarded solely as a civil contract, no more demanding religions 
 sanction than the sale and transfer of a cow. The Roman con- 
 ception of matrimony was less gross and mercantile. The bond 
 was regarded as sacred, as hallowed by the goils. Through- 
 out the Middle Ages the Church fought hard to place mania ge 
 on a better footing, to spiritualise a traffic in flesh. But the re- 
 sistance on the part of the people was stubborn. In the capitulary 
 of Pepin the Little (a.d. 755) no mention is male of any religious 
 ceremony as requisite for hallowing and confirming a marriage. 
 This the Carlovingians recommended, but did not require. Even 
 so late as 1043, at the marriage of the Emperor, Henry III., the 
 clergy assisted mer-dy as guests and witnesses. In the twelfth 
 century, bishops and councils forbale the performance of- the 
 marriage ceremony by laymen. It was not till the thirteenth 
 century that formularies for marriage were introduced and became 
 customary. The Reformation broke out when opinion was in a 
 state of transition. The old view of marriage as a secular trans- 
 action held its ground, but side by side with it was growing up an 
 ecclesiastical theory of marriage as a religious union, which treated 
 an unblessed union as concubinage. 
 
 It was perhaps inevitable that Luther should adopt the former 
 view; his appeal was to German law, feeling, and tradition against 
 every foreign importation. In the heat of controversy and the 
 intoxication of passion, he did not sufficiently discriminate be- 
 tween what was good, though un-German, and what was objec- 
 tionable. When he laid down with his fi>t, " Die Ehe gehet die 
 Kirche nichts an, ist ausser derselben. ein zeitlieh, weltlich Ding, 
 darumb gehoret sie fur die Oberheit," he summed up the stolid 
 German opposition of two centuries. Since the Reformation till 
 the introduction of Roman law, and the tieatise of Puffendorf, 
 Evangelicals (Lutherans) and Reformed (Calviuists) alike regarded 
 marriage as a mere civil transaction. 
 
 The Catholic Church received a check in her work of moulding 
 opinion in Germany. She lo-t her hold over a large part of the 
 empire. But where she retained her grasp, there she never ceased 
 to labour at the remodelling of popular opinion on the matter of 
 marriage. If cast iron be hammered at long enough it will become 
 
122 Germany, Present and Past 
 
 fibrous and flexible. So it is with the most crystalline public 
 opinion. It lias been so with popular notions about marriage in 
 the parts of Germany still Koman Catholic; there they do m>t 
 differ from those in Fiance or in England. Thus, where two 
 villages adjoin, one Catholic, the other Protehtant, we find a strict 
 and a lax opinion side by side. The Protestant Church now is as 
 urgent as the Catholic to discountenance illegitimacy, but it is 
 only for the last century that it has taken this line, since it has 
 adopted the Roman law on marriage. 
 
 The inevitable result of the laxity of dealing with marriage by 
 the Protestant Church has been a corresponding laxity of morals. 
 Thus, throughout Germany the statistics of illegitimacy show a 
 much higher rate among the Protestants than among the Catholics. 1 
 For instance : — 
 
 Province of Prussia (Prot.) illegitimate births are 90 per 100. 
 „ Brandenburg (Prot.) „ 10't) „ 
 
 „ Pomerania (Prot.) „ 10*0 „ 
 
 „ Schleswig-Holstein (Prot.) „ 9 b' „ 
 
 „ Westphalia (Catli.) „ 2*7 „ 
 
 „ Khineland (Cath.) „ 3*0 „ 
 
 So, also, in the towns that can be compared as almost exclusively 
 Catholic or Protestant : — 
 
 Berlin (Prot.) illegitimate births are 13'5 per 100. 
 Magdeburg (Prot.) „ 9-6 „ 
 
 Hanover (Prot.) „ 8-9 „ 
 
 Coblenz (Cath.) „ 2-7 „ 
 
 Aix-la-Chapelle (Cath.) „ 22 „ 
 
 Treves (Cath.) „ 2'3 „ 
 
 In Thuringa, where the population is wholly Evangelical, the 
 average of illegitimate births in the towns is 12'0; 2 at Altenburg 
 14-5, Coburg 12-8, Hiidburghausen 10-8, Weimar 8-8. 3 
 
 1 From Statistih des Deutsch. Jteichs, 1876. 
 
 2 At Jena in Tiiuringa the annual number of illegitimate children is only 
 slightly under that of legitimate children. In the year 1866, there were 156 
 legitimate births, and 1G1 illegitimate. In 1871, the legitimate were 145, the 
 illegitimate 115. At Jena is a lying-in-hospital, which helps to make the per- 
 centage 45 per cent. At Freiburg im B. is also one, and there it raises the 
 proportion to 19 per cent. But in this case, though the town is Catholic, the 
 population round it is mixed, Catholic two-thirds and Protestant one-third. I 
 was told there also, that several cases came from Basle. 
 
 * Jahrbiicher fur National. Oekonomie u. Statiatil;, 1S75. 
 
 
 
Marriage. 123 
 
 This difference in morality, it must be remembered, is due, not 
 to one Church having a higher ethic code and greater influence 
 than the other, but to the fact that one has persisted too long in 
 adhesion to German law on marriage, when circumstances were 
 altered making such adhesions injurious to morality. 
 
 If marriage be a mere civil contract, then that contract ma}' be 
 dissolved and a fresh one entered into without scandal. This is 
 an obvious deduction, and has been drawn in Germany. The 
 civil board which binds together can dissolve the tie, and dissolve 
 it for the most trivial reasons. Yet the percentage of divorce is 
 not as high as might be expected. The actual number of divorced 
 persons of both sexes in Germany at the census of December 1, 
 1871, was only 69,794. Out of 10,000 persons over the age of 15 
 there are in Prussia 30 divorced, in Saxony 37, in Wurtemberg 32, 
 in Bavaria 11, and in Baden 10. The reason of the average being: 
 no higher is that divorces are almost wholly among the Pro- 
 testants, and amongst them are confined to the citizen, professional, 
 and noble classes, whereas the peasantry rarely resort to the board 
 for a divorce. It is due also to the fact that the number of those 
 who return themselves as divorced at a census does not represent 
 half of those who have been divorced. As a general nile two- 
 thirds of those who get divorced marry agiin. Consequently the 
 average for Prussia should be 90 in 10,000, instead of 30. In 
 Transylvania it is said that, among the German Lutherans two 
 out of every three girls who get married are divorced before the 
 end of the year, and that most married women have had three 
 husbands. Mr. Boner says : " Among the Saxon peasantry a wife 
 or a husband is a thing which may for convenience sake be put 
 aside or changed at pleasure. Divorce is a thing of such every- 
 day occurrence, is decided on so lightly and allowed so easily, that 
 it has become a marked feature — indeed, a component part of — 
 Saxon rural life. A separation of husband and wife after three, 
 four, or even six weeks' marriage is nothing rare or strange; and 
 the woman divorced will often want six or eight months of being 
 sixteen. Among a portion of the Saxons, marriage may almost be 
 said to be a merely temporary arrangement between two con- 
 tracting parties : very frequently neither expects it to last long, 
 and may have resolved that it shall not. In the village near the 
 Koehel, sixteen marriages took place in one year : at the end of 
 
124 Germany, Present and Past, 
 
 twelve months only six of the contracting parties were still living 
 together. In the place where I write this, there are at this 
 moment eleven bridal pairs intending to celebrate their wedding a 
 fortnight hence. Of these eleven, the schoolmaster observed that 
 there would probably not bo many living together by this time 
 next year. The cleigyman, too, was of opinion that before long- 
 many would come to him with grounds for a separation. Divorce 
 is easy, and belongs so intimately to married life, that even before 
 the wedding it is talked of, and, under certain probable eventu- 
 alities, looked forward to as consequent on the approaching union. 
 'Try to like him,' says the father to the girl, 'and if later you 
 find you can't do it, I will have you separated.' In the village 
 where I was staying, five suits for separation were pendi g; indeed, 
 such cases are always going on. I have talked over this crying 
 evil with the Saxon clergy, and from these have learned how 
 futile the causes generally were. One husband did not believe 
 what his wife had said, and she immediately wanted to be separated, 
 as 'she could not live with a man who would not trubt her.' 
 Anoiher did not eat his dinner with appetite. 'Oh,' said his 
 wife, ' it seems my cooking does not please you, if I cannot satisfy 
 you,' etc. The chief cause of complaint of another husband, whose 
 pretty young wife I frequently saw at her father's house, was, 
 that she had washed some linen again after his motlier had alieady 
 washed it, and that was an insult to his mother." Mr. Boner 
 says of Hungary : ''In a Hungarian town of somewhat more than 
 4,000 inhabitants, there were pending, in 1862, no less than 171 
 divorce suits. All these were among the Calvinist population." 1 
 In Denmark divorce is much more common than in Germany. 
 From what I have seen and heard I fear that morals are at a 
 terribly low ebb in the peninsula and its islands. Out of 10,000 
 persons in Germany over 15 years old, 26 are divorced ; in Denmark 
 50; in Hungary 44; in Switzerland (exclusively among the 
 Zuinglians and Calvinists) 47 ; 2 in Cath die Austria there are only 
 4*8. 3 At Hamburg, out of the adult population, there are 70 
 
 » 
 
 1 C Boner: Transylvania, its Products and People. London, 1865, pp. 483, 
 496, 503. 
 
 * The proportion to the Protestant population is 00 out of 10,000. 
 
 * The statistics are taken from those published by the German Imperial 
 Government in the Statialik des Deutschen Reichs. 
 
Marriage. 125 
 
 divorcee! persona out of 10,000 remaining unmarried at the census 
 of 1871, in Biemen 38, in Leipzig 48. On the other hand, in the 
 purely Catholic towns, as Treves, ihere are only 7, at Cologne 9, 
 at Minister 9. Tlie Statistical Report of the Government, published 
 in 1872, says: "The connection between the relative proportion of 
 divorced and the religious confessions is unmistakable. In the 
 specially Evangelical distiicts divorces are frequent, in the strictly 
 Catholic distiicts they are rare." In the Protestant Cantons of 
 Switzerland, especially Vaud, divorce is almost as frequent as 
 among the Saxons in Transylvania. A friend wlio lived in Vaud 
 has lold me how he lias sat down at table with a party, four 
 gentlemen with their four wives, each of whom had been the wife 
 of one of the others. They met without the slightest restraint, and 
 as the best of friends. It has not come to this yet in Germany; 
 not, at least, in the South. Divorces are most frequent in the 
 North. In 1877, in a town of South Germany, with a population 
 of 25,<>00 inhabitants (2,500 Protestants), there were 7 divorces, all 
 either among the Protestants, or in cases of mixed marriages, 
 and 245 marriages; or about 3 per cent, of the marriages end in 
 separation. 
 
 Altogether the present condition of morals in Germany is such 
 as to impress one with the clanger of dissociating the idea of 
 marriage from religion. Where passion and tenqvation are stiong, 
 and the tie is regarded as a mere business contract, theie passion 
 will have its way, as every new temptation arises. It may be 
 questioned whether it is any gain to virtue or society that the iron 
 livets of the law should hold together those who have discovered 
 the utter incompatibility of their tempers and habits. But it is a 
 danger to society when the marriage bond is made so easy of 
 rupture, that marriage becomes a joining of hands and down the 
 middle and up again, as in a country-dance, with ever changing 
 partners. The economy of nature demands paramount care to be 
 extended to the protection of the child, and natural religion re- 
 quires that the sanctity of home shall surround and hallow the 
 nursery. But how can that be called a home where the husband 
 and fie faih'-r are not necessarily one, and that sacred where 
 marriage is treated as a mere civil contract? Divorce laws should 
 be the thorny burrs protecting the child, and preserving a home 
 and training for it. If it were not for children, law and social 
 
l'2G Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 customs would be sufficient to guarantee order. The foundations 
 of the State are laid in the family, and not in the individual, and 
 the first care of tlie State should he to hedge round that plural 
 unit. The strength of a country does not lie in its great armies, 
 but in its multitudes of householders, each a rootlet clinging to 
 the soil, and capable of infinite multiplication. We may hesitate 
 whether that nation is advancing in a right direction, and giving 
 great promise of a future, where marriages are steadily on the 
 decline, and divorces are becoming more common and shameless. 
 
( 127 ) 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 WOMEN. 
 
 Das ewig Weibliche zieht una hinan. 
 
 Goethe, Faust, part ii. 
 
 The French poet Diderot said once, " He who would write about 
 women should dip his pen in rainbow-dye and powder his lines with 
 the gold-dust of butterflies' wings." I venture to think that this 
 does not apply to German women. I am sure that women needing 
 such a material for their description would not deserve description. 
 
 Hertha — the earth — was the goddess of the old Teutons. But 
 the earth is fair and fruitful in summer, and rigid and remorseless 
 in winter. So the Germans fabled of two goddesses, the one 
 loving, pit}'ing, motherly ; the other hard, repelling, murderous. 
 A peasant woman was sick, and she had a little babe that wailed 
 for the food she could not give it. Then, in the night, there shone 
 a glory in the cottage chamber, and in the midst of the light was 
 a beautiful woman, with golden hair waving about her shoulders, 
 dressed in a robe of varied colours, and with eyes blue as the 
 summer skies. She took the babe from its cradle, and suckled it 
 at her breasts, and then vanished. 
 
 It was Frau Gode, the beneficent earth-goddess. 
 
 A peasant lad was keeping cows on an alp. Then a strange 
 woman stood before him and said, " Let me take you to myself.'' 
 He was frightened and ran away. But his master was angry that he 
 had deserted the cows, and sent him back. And when he came to the 
 alp, where the woman had stood, he found only a heap of ironstone 
 and a black pool. He looked into the water, for there was some- 
 thing swimming in it, and he saw an iron head with eye-sockets 
 ' ke deep holes ; and he touched it with a stick, and the iron bead 
 
1'2S Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 sank. Presently lie went out on the edge of the cliff, and sounded 
 his horn. Then something csftne rushing towards him from among 
 the pines, and he was aware of the iron head looking over his 
 shoulder, and he heard a voice say, "None escape me whom I 
 desire ; " and two iron arms closed round him, and iron claws 
 gripped him. He was found next morning cruohed and broken at 
 the bottom of the cliff. 
 
 It was Jarnsaxa, the cruel earth-mother. 1 
 
 The German women are of divine origin, descended from 
 goddesses, and they have carried with them to their last posterity 
 all the warmth of Gode's heart, and some of the iron of Jamsaxa's 
 head. 
 
 The two generations have grown together, and I think there 
 never was a time when there weie not in Fatherland representatives 
 of Gode and of Jarnsaxa. Heaven be praised ! the daughters of 
 the iron goddess are not all as ferociously disposed as she, the 
 divine blond of Gode throbs in their hearts, they retain only the 
 havdlnadedness of their ancestress. 
 
 It is, no doubt, because among German women there are some 
 of both races, as in one woman there are oppoi-ed individualities, 
 that we find such conflicting testimony concerning them in the 
 age when the curtain is fii st lifted on their lives. Tacitus says 
 that the Germans esteemed something sacred and prophetic in 
 woman, that they followed her counsels, and exalted her as a 
 goddess ; but, on the other hand, the stern evidence of early laws 
 shows that she was treated as a household animal, bought and sold, 
 let or lent. Her life was given her by the capricious generosity 
 of her father, and when her husband died, she was expected to 
 burn herself on his body, as of no more use in the world." 
 
 The flist glimpse given us of the German woman by history is 
 not of her as a benign and bending character. She bursts on us 
 as a being, fearful and violent, but heroic. In the year 102 before 
 Christ, Cuius Marius rolled back the inundating wave of Teutones 
 on the bloody field of Aix. The routed barbarians Avere pursued 
 by the lioman soldiers to their camp. "Then," says Plutarch, 
 " the Teutonic women rushed to meet them with swords and 
 
 1 Hoela is the same cruel goddess under another name. 
 
 2 This was in the earliest stage; but exposure of iufants remained in Christian 
 times, and was only put down with difficulty. 
 
Women. 129 
 
 cudgels, and flung themselves headlong among pursuers and 
 pursued, uttering hideous and frantic howls ; the latter they drove 
 back as cowards, the former they assiiled as enemies, mingling 
 with the battle, beating down the swords of the Romans, with 
 their bare hands grasping the bare blades, and with courage, 
 dauntless to the death, allowed themselves to be gashed and 
 hacked to pieces rather than yield." 
 
 Valerius Maximus shows us not only their dauntlessness, but 
 their dignity. The captured Teutonic maidens besought the 
 conqueror to let them enter among the virgins of Vesta, piomising 
 to remain untarnished in her service. When their request was 
 refused, rather than submit to the indignities in store for them, in 
 the night they strangled themselves, valuing their houour above 
 their lives. 
 
 Next year Marius routed the Cimbri at Vercellae. When the 
 legionaries drove the invaders over the wall of their camp, the 
 Cimbric women, standing in the chariots, robed in black, killed 
 those who fled, one cut down a husband, another a brother, a 
 third a father. Then they cast their children under the wheels of 
 the cars and hoofs of the horses, and, lastly, laid murderous hands 
 on themselves. One was found hung by her own hands to a 
 chariot-pole, with her strangled babes dangling from her ankles. 
 
 With the majesty of heroism and great sorrow, the first 
 German woman whose name is known steps forth on the stage of 
 history. Thusnelda 1 was the wife of Hermann (Arminius), the 
 indefatigable opponent of Rome, conqueror of Varus and extei ini- 
 tiator of his legions. Her father Siegast, who had an hereditary 
 feud with the Hessian chief, betrayed his daughter, when await- 
 ing her confinement, into the hands of the Romans. Inspired 
 with the spirit of her husband, rather than with that of her father, 
 says Tacitus, her captivity drew from her not a tear or word of 
 lamentation. She brooded in silence on her grief, with hands folded 
 on her bosom and eyes resting on her ripening womb. The news 
 that his beloved wife was torn from him, and about to be carried into 
 slavery, drove Hermann to mad fury. But his attempts to rescue 
 her were unavailing. Thusnelda was taken to Rome, and there 
 she bore Thuinclicus. She with her babe and brother, Si< gesmund, 
 was forced to grace the triumph of Germanicus, and the traitor 
 1 Properly Tuiscnhild, the maid of Tuisce. 
 
 K 
 
130 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 Siegast saw his daughter, son, and grandson dragging chains 
 before the chariot of the conqueror of his people. Grief probably 
 put a speedy end to the sorrows of this noble woman. The wrath 
 of Rome against the conqueror of Varus expended itself in con- 
 verting his son into a common gladiator. If, as is supposed, the 
 beautiful marble statue of a German woman, which adorns the 
 Loggia de' Lanzi at Florence, be a representation of Thusnelda, it 
 will show that the grandeur of soul of the barbarian did not fail 
 to make its impress on the Romans. 
 
 In contrast to this tragic female figure, stand-! the blue-eyed, 
 fair-haired Swabian Bisula, a girl taken in his Alemannio war by 
 Valentinian I., and presented by him to Ausonius. From slave 
 she speedily became the poet's mistress, and he fell in fetters at 
 her feet. Her form is not heroic — it is but that of a sweet German 
 maid, "but oh ! " sighs the infatuated poet, " by her natural charms 
 she eclipses all the pampered and tricked-up puppets of Rome." 
 
 The ancient Germans prided themselves, like the modern 
 Iroquois, on not yielding to weak emotion. They acted in 
 obedience to their hearts, but sternly repressed every exhibit ion of 
 tenderness. Parents loved their children, hut did not fondle them; 
 husbands loved their wives without, like their descendants, hugging 
 them in public and maundering over their ale of hymeneal happi- 
 ness. The strong natures of that vigorous age, when once the 
 barriers gave way, burst forth in whirlwinds. Slow distilling 
 tears did not bedew their cheeks, but the flood of sorrow flowed 
 mingled with blood from their eyes, and stained both face and 
 raiment. 1 Men and women alike blushed to yield to light emotion, 
 but not to violent passion. In her sorrow, Brunhild smites her 
 hands together, so that the walls re-echo, and the birds on the roof 
 fly scared away. On hearing the news of Siegfried's death, her 
 bitter laughter shakes .the house. 2 The hall rocks at the queen's 
 weeping. 3 The mighty bosom heaves with such tempestuous 
 emotion, that the necklace is burst, and the starry ornaments fly 
 over the floor. 4 The muscles of Egil work when his son dies, so 
 that his kirtle is rent. 6 Joy at the restitution of his master bursts 
 the iron bands round the heait of the trusty Eckehard. 
 
 * Weruhold, Spicileg. Fnrmul 18 17, p. 31. Grimm : Andreas and L'lene. 
 
 2 Samund Edda, 208. 3 Gudrun, 927. 
 
 * Wemkuld, Spied p. 28. s Aigla, c. 81. 
 
Women. 131 
 
 Anger, hatred, sorrow, and love are wild spirits, and among 
 the Old Germans none w.mld yield to them without a battle; 
 and each, when it possessed man or woman, wrought him up to 
 Berserk ir frenzy. 
 
 Let me attempt to put together a mosaic picture of the 
 ancestresses of the German people — the prototypes, strongly out- 
 lined and h irshly coloured, of the women, who, with fainter outline 
 and faded tints, are the daughters, wives, and mothers of modern 
 Germany. The characters are the same, but finer drawn; not 
 scored in charcoal with a burnt stick, but traced with a crowquill, 
 the downstrokes hairs, the upstrokes microscopic. 
 
 Races have their special characterises as well as persons ; and 
 these individualising characteristics reappear again and again in 
 their history, moditied it may be, but unmistakable, if only we 
 look fur them. 
 
 We English are a mixture of many races, and our characteristic 
 is Heterogeneity. Women accentuate the peculiarities of the race 
 to which they belong. Corinthian brass was the melting and 
 flowing together of all the metals in a blazing city. It was a 
 precious and highly esteemed amalg im. Let us flatter ourselves 
 that we are the Corinthian brass of Europe, only 1c* us not forget 
 that we have not the individuality of the Celt, or the Saxon, or the 
 Angle, or the Jute, or the Roman, or the Dane, or the Norman. 
 Each, when melted in, lost its distinguishing features. It is so 
 with our women — they are the most beautiful, shining, precious of 
 amalgams, but they have no organic, original individuality. Look 
 at the whole course of our history, look at the women of the 
 present day. They have a little of everything, of the vivacity of 
 the Celt and the domesticity of the Saxon, the adventure of the 
 Dane, and the dignity of the Norman. 
 
 It is of all these little mickles that the muckle is made up. 
 The soup is one of many ingredients, but it is not stock. It is 
 nut so with the German women: they lack a thousand of thosj 
 charms whieh make the Englishwoman the most perfect lady in 
 the world. But they have, what our women have not, an original 
 stamp and an original atomic weight of their own — a thing no 
 compound suhstance can claim. 
 
 In the third century, Aurelian celebrated his victory over the 
 Goths in Hungary and over the Marcomanni ; and in his triumphal 
 
132 Germany, Present and Past 
 
 train strode Gotliio maidens taken weapon in hand. Among them 
 was Hunila, whose beauty and wit so captivated the conquerors, 
 that a noble Roman offered her his hand. Claudian (fifth century), 
 in singing tlie victory of Stilicho over Alaric, mentions an Ostro- 
 gothio wife, who urged her husband to war with the woid>, "Oh, 
 why have I a man so inert? Happy are the Visigoihic wives, for 
 they dress themselves in the spoils of cities, and have Greek maidens 
 as their slaves." 
 
 It was due to the persistency of the Germanic element among 
 the Lombard conquerors of the Italian plains that the history of 
 Paul Warnefried rises so high above the dry records of that ;ige. 
 It is a German national epic, in spite of the Latin garb it wears. 
 It supplies us with many portraits of women, gloomy rather than 
 gay, but portraits showing how great was the individuality and 
 soul power of the Lombard woman, which had raised her from a 
 chattel to a motive power in the household and in the State— a 
 place she had won for herself, in spite of laws traditional through 
 centuries, with her sword and bow — at least, with her hand and 
 tongue. 
 
 Far back in the gloom of myth appears the weird Rumetrude, 
 daughter of Tato, whose freakish love of blood led to furious war 
 between the Lombards and the Herulii. On firmer historic ground 
 stands the oft-sung tragic tale of Rosamund, the wife of Alboin. 
 She was daughter of Kunimund, king of the Gepidae, slain by 
 Alboin in battle. Out of the skull of the old king, Alboin had 
 fashioned a goblet. One night at Verona, at a banquet, flushed 
 with pride and wine, the Lombard king brimmed the hideous bowl 
 and presented it to his wife. Rosamund drank, and registered 
 with the draught a vow of vengeance. At her bidding, Helmeric, 
 the squire, slew the king as he lay sleeping in the heat of the 
 day ; he could not defend himself, for Rosamund had tied his 
 sword to the bed-post. 
 
 Woman's nature is gentle and peaceable, but it is like those 
 heaven-reflecting tarns of which folks tell, that if the tiniest pebble 
 be dropped in to ruffle the surface, the depths churn, the sky over- 
 head is overcast with storm, and the lake lashes itself into fury 
 and foam. Passion takes hold of the female heart more readily 
 than that of man. Her heart is more tindery or less protected. 
 Then, with the concentration of all her powers, with no fore- 
 
Women. 133 
 
 thought and less restraint, she pursues her object over rock and 
 lavine. Gentleness, pity, shame — all that are most, dear and most 
 revered — she tramples under foot, regardless of everything save 
 her one object, and that attained, she totters and falls a wreck. 
 Love, jealousy, revenge, form links in one chain, and many a 
 woman who has yielded herself to the first has been bound and 
 strangled by the others. 
 
 Is this overdrawn ? Perhaps so, when speaking of compound 
 natures in an artificial sia:e of society; not so of original souls in 
 fresh natural growth. 
 
 Of revenge there are or were two sorts, one inferior and per- 
 sonal, the other the carrying out of rude justice at a period when 
 justice was executed by individuals and not by the State. Such 
 was blood- vengeance; and women had a right to it — felt it a 
 duty laid on them by their love and kinship. King Volsung and 
 all his sons, save Sigmund and a grandchild Sinfiotli, were kil!ed 
 by Siggeir, who had married Signj r , the daughter of Volsung. 
 The queen meditates revenge, and excites Sigmund and Sinfiotli 
 to execute it. They come to the palace of Siggeir and are con- 
 cealed in a corner by Signy. The king's little son, whilst plajdng, 
 discovers them, and by order of his mother, lest he should betray 
 them, Sigmund and Sinfiotli cut the child to pieces. But the 
 Volsungs are discovered, and are condemned to be buried alive. 
 The mound is raised over a stone chamber, and they are lowered 
 into it. But befoie the last slab closes the vault, the queen casts 
 in a piece of meat wrapped round with straw. Sigmund, in 
 tearing the flesh, finds it transfixed with his sword. With this he 
 and Sinfiotli dig their way out of the mound and come to the royal 
 hall, where all are asleep. They cast in firebrands, and the smoke 
 and flames arouse the slumberers. " Know," cries Sigmund to the 
 king, " that the Volsungs are not all dead." Then he bids his 
 sister come forth in peace. Signy refuses. She has accomplished 
 her purpose, has revenged the murder of her father and brothers, 
 but she will, as a true wife, die with her husband. Only she 
 comes forth (o give a last kiss to Sigmund and Sinfiotli, and then 
 she plunges back into the flames. 
 
 A picture in livelier colours is that of Theodelinda, daughter 
 of the Bavarian king Garibald, whose hand was sought by the 
 fair-haired young Lombard king Authvari. His courtship was a 
 
13-fc Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 scrap of early romance. Full of desire to judge with, his own 
 eyes of his intended bride, he accompanied his ambassadors in 
 disguise as one of them. When Garibald consented to the marriage, 
 the messengers begged that, as token of acceptance, Theodelinda 
 misjjht <rive them to drink with her own hands. As she came 
 with the goblet of wine to Authvari, he stroked her cheek and 
 fingers. Theodelinda, red with shame, told her nurse what he 
 had done. The wise woman answered: " If this man were not the 
 king and your bridegroom, he would not have dared to touch you." 
 The married life of Theodelinda and Authvari was short, as it 
 lasted but a year ; and then the Lombards bade the widowed 
 queen retain her royal prerogative and choose a second husband 
 from among their chiefs. She invited to court Agilulf, Duke of 
 Tuiin, and when he came, she met him with a cup of wine. The 
 duke knelt to receive it, and respectfully kissed the hand of the 
 queen. She blushed, and smiling said : " He who could kiss my 
 lips should not be content to kiss my hand : " and she chose him 
 as ihe successor of Authvari. 
 
 A plcasanter picture still is that of Queen Bathild. Archim- 
 bold, ma}'or of the palace in tho reign of Dagobert, had bought a 
 Saxon slave girl. She is thus described by one of her contem- 
 poraries : "Her pious and admirable conversation attracted the 
 admiration of the prince and all his ministers. For she was of a 
 benignant spiiit and sober manners, prudent and shy, never 
 scheming evil, never light in talk, or pert in speech, but in all 
 her actions upiight. She was of Saxon race; in shape graceful 
 and pleasing, with a bright face and a staid gait, and as such she 
 found favour with the prince, so that he constituted her his cup- 
 beaver, and as such, dealing honestly, she stood often by hi in. 
 ministering to him. But so far from being lifted up by her 
 position, she showed the utmost humility to her fellow-servants, 
 cheerfully obeying them, ministering reverently to her elders, 
 often taking the shoes off their feet, scraping and cleaning them, 
 and bringing them their washing water, and mending their clothes 
 aho. All this she did without a murmur, with gentle and pious 
 alacrity." Now it fell out that. Archimbold lost his wife, and he 
 looked anout for some one to fill her place. His eyes rested with 
 somewhat undue warmth on the modest Saxon girl, and she, 
 fearing his intentions, hid herself among the maids of the kitchen, 
 
Women. 135 
 
 dishevelled her light hair, begrimed her face, and worked in rags, 
 60 that the mayor thought she had gone clean away, and after a 
 while he forgot her and married some one else. Then Bathild 
 shook off her tatteis, braided her flaxen hair, washed her sunny 
 face, and shone forth in her accustomed place. But she had fled 
 the mayor to catch the king. How Clovis became attached to 
 her is not recorded, but certain it is that he asked her to be his 
 lawful wife, and to sit by his side on the throne of the Fianks. So, 
 at the age of nineteen, in 649, she was married to C!ovis II. As 
 queen she exercised a most salutary influence over the mind of her 
 husband, an 1 persuaded him to enact many wholesome laws. 
 
 Horace Walpole has said that no woman ever invented a new 
 religion, but that no new religion ever made way without woman's 
 help. Theodelinda was a nursing mother to the Chinch among 
 the Lombards, Bertha to Christianity among the Anglo-Saxons, 
 and Bathild among the Franks. She exerted herself to the 
 utmost of her power to relieve the necessities of the poor and 
 ameliorate the condition of the serf. Alter six years of married 
 life Bathild was left a widow and regent for her son. The gf-ntle 
 queen remembered her sorrows as a slave. She forbade the reten- 
 tion or purchase of Christian slaves, and she spent all the money 
 she could spare to redeem children from bondage. She sent am- 
 bassadors to all the European courts to announce that the sale of 
 Franks was strictly forbidden, and that any slave who set loot on 
 French soil should be held fiom that moment to be free. 
 
 Very different was Romilda, the wife of Gisulf, Lombard Duke 
 of Friuli. When Cacan, king of the Avars, invaded the land, slew 
 the duke, and besieged the duchess in Forum-Julii, she was so 
 struck with his good looks that she offered to deliver up the city 
 to him if he would marry her. He agreed, the gates were opened, 
 and he took her to wife for one night. Next day he sent her to bo 
 impaled alive, saying : " The stake is the only husband a traitress 
 merits." 
 
 Her four daughters showed a more noble spirit. To save their 
 honour they stuffed the bosoms of their dresses with decayed flesh 
 of fowls, and the Avars thought the young ladies too odorous to 
 desire to make their near acquaintance. 
 
 Gundeberga, wife of King Charoald, proved her fidelity to her 
 husband by an act more forcible and expressive than deserving of 
 
136 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 imitation. When the noble Adalulf whispered at table his passion 
 in her ear, sho turned round with Teutonic leinureliness, and then, 
 as he looked for his answer, abruptly spat in his face. 
 
 Radegund was the daughter of a Thuringian prince killed by 
 his own brother Ilennannfried. Theodebert and Clothair defeated 
 Hermannfiied in a great battle on the Unstrut, and took Erfurt, 
 his capital. Eadegund and her brother fell into the hands of 
 Clothair, and he made her his wife, or one of his wives. He 
 murdered her brother in cold blood, and then, unable to endure his 
 infidelity and brutality any longer, she fled to Novon, where she 
 appealed to St. Medard, the bishop, to release her from the hated 
 union and consecrate her to God. He refused, mindful of the 
 apostolic precept: "Let not her who is married seek to be 
 leleased." Eat she burst into the sanctuary, wrapped in the 
 monastic veil, and going io the foot of the altar, charged the 
 bishop : " If thou deia}est to dedicate me, thou fear< st man more 
 than God, and He will require my blood at thy hands." Then he 
 extended his hand and laid it on her head. Clothair, who had 
 found her presence some slight restraint, speedily solaced himself 
 for her absence, and sent her money for the building of a convent. 
 With this she erected the Abbey of St. Cross at Poitiers. The.e 
 her sorrow over the miseries of her age, which she had vainly 
 attempted to relieve, and its brutality, which sho had been power- 
 less to soften, found a vent in elegiac lamentations, which her 
 friend, Venantius Fortunatus, clothed in Latin verse. In his 
 elegy on the ruin of Thuringia, the poet lets the queen say : " I 
 saw the women carried off into slavery, with bound hands and flying 
 hair, their bare feet dabbled in the blood of their husbands, or 
 treading the corpses of their brothers. All wept, and I wept with 
 them, for the dead, and yet more for the living. When the wind 
 wails, I listen : pei chance in the blast will steal by the ghost of 
 one of my dear ones. Where are those I have loved? I ask the 
 wind that whistles, and would that a bird would answer mo out 
 of it ! " 
 
 Mention mu^t be made of two women, two queens — terrible 
 daughters of Jarnsaxa — Fredigund and Brunehild. They were of 
 ver} r different origin and condition, and after a parallel career of 
 fortune ended differently. 
 
 Fredigund was the daughter of poor peasants, and at an early 
 
Women. 137 
 
 period in the train of Audovera, first wife of King Chilperic. She 
 was beau tif ill and ambitious, bold and unscrupulous, and she 
 attracted the attention, and, before long, awakened the passion, of 
 the king. She pursued her unexpected fortune with ardour and 
 without hesitation. Queen Audovera was her first obstacle and 
 her first victim ; she was repudiated and banished to a convent. 
 But Fredigund's hour was not yet come; for Chilperic married 
 Galswintha, daughter of the Visigoth King Athanagild, whose 
 youngest daughter, Brunehild, had just been united to Sigebert, 
 King of Austrasia, the brother of Chilperic. By Fredigund's orders 
 Galswintha was strangled in her bed, and then Chilperic married 
 her. She and Brunehild were now sisters-in-law, and on Brunehild 
 lay the sacred duty of avenging her sister's murder on the low-born 
 intruder who had stepped over her body to the throne. At her insti- 
 gation Sigebert took arms against his brother, but emissarh s of 
 Fiedigund assassinated him in his tent, and Brunehild fell into 
 the hands of her brother-in-law. The right of asylum belonging 
 to the cathedral of Paris saved her life, but she was sent to Rouen. 
 There, at the very time, happened to be Meroveus, son of Chilperic 
 by Audovera. Seeing Brunehild in her beauty and her trouble, 
 he loved her, and Praetextatus, Bishop of Rouen, was thought to 
 have incautiously joined their hands. 1 That sealed the fate of the 
 prince and the prelate. Praetextatus was stabbed in the armpit in 
 chuivh by an assassin commissioned by the queen, and Meroveus, 
 a fugitive, besought a faithful servant to kill him, that he might 
 not fall into the cruel hands of his stepmother. Chilperic had 
 another son by Audovera; he was poignarded and Audovera 
 strangled. But the sum of crimes was not yet complete. In 584 
 Kit.g Chilperic, when returning from the chase, was struck two 
 mortal blows by a man who took to rapid flight, and a cry was 
 raised of " Trea-on, it is the hand of the Austrasian Childebert." 
 But the cave taken to have the cry raised proved its falsity ; it was 
 the hand of Fiedigund herself, anxious lest Chilperic should dis- 
 cover a guilty intrigue existing between her and Landii, an officer 
 
 1 Tie charge was brought agninst him before a Council of Paris, but he 
 stoutly denietl h iviijg 'lone so, even when the bishops who tried him urged ldm 
 to <irmtess thai he had, to rel eve them from their difficulties, rs Chilperic and 
 Frcdigund were determined to make them condemn Praetextatus, whether guilty 
 or not — Greg. Turon. ^who was present at the Council), H. Franc, ix. 3U, 42. 
 
138 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 of her household. Chilperic left a son, named Clothair, a few months 
 old, of whom his mother Fredignnd became the sovereign guardian. 
 She spent the last thirteen years of her life in defending him 
 {•gainst the enemies she had raised, and endangering him by new 
 plots and crimes. She was a true type of a strong-witted, iron- 
 headed, remorseless woman in barbarous times, 'lnr character 
 unredeemed by one trait of womanliness or nobility. She started 
 low down in the scale, and rose very high, without any correspond- 
 ing elevation of soul. She died quietly in her bed at Paris in 597, 
 leaving the throne of Neustria to her son, Clothair II. 
 
 Very superior to her in mental power and greatness of charac- 
 ter, but scarcely her inferior in wickedness, was her rival Brunehild 
 — a woman who, in another age, or among other circumstances, — 
 who even perhaps then, but for the fact that Fredigund was her 
 contemporary — would have been a great and good woman, a 
 Duchess Hadwig or a Maria Theresa, instead of an Empress 
 Catharine. She was a princess of the Visigoths, the German race 
 which had most readily assimilated Roman culture, and she came 
 to the Burgundian court, the most barbarous and brutal of all. 
 Venantius Fortunatus, little dreaming what course she would run, 
 saw in the beautiful and modest bride of Sigebert the dawning of 
 a great hope, and sang her praises with enthusiasm, landing alike 
 her beauty, her goodness, and her wisdom. Brunehild had no 
 occasion for ciimes to become a queen ; and in spite of those she 
 committed, and in spite of her outbursts, and the moral irregulari- 
 ties of her long life, she bore, amidst her passions and her power, 
 the stamp of couiageous frankness and intellectual nobility, which 
 places her far above the lustful savage who was her rival. Brune- 
 hild took a practical interest in all public works, highways, bridges, 
 monuments, and the progress of material civilisation. She cherished 
 the poor flowers of literature which appeared in that rugged soil 
 and under that chilling sky. In the royal domains, and wherever 
 she went, her charities showed that she had a heart which felt for 
 the sorrows and servitude of the poor. But the right of blood 
 revenge fell to her. The murderess of her sister and of her hus- 
 band must not remain unchastised. Intoxicated with power, pride, 
 above all with hate, she threw herself with female iinpetuo-ity and 
 manly determination into the whirlpool of political strife, caring 
 little if she were herself submerged, if only she could first giip and 
 
Women. 139 
 
 drown her enemies. St. Desiderius, bishop of Yienne, had his 
 brains dashed out by her orders, and for a less reas>>n than the 
 murder of St. Prsetextatus by Fredigund. St. Coluinbanus, the 
 great Irish missionary, who denounced her irregularities, was ban- 
 ished, by her from the dear solitude of the Vosges. Brnnehild on 
 one side, and Fredigund on the other, fanned to fresh fury the 
 embers of strife, whenever they showed signs of waxing cold. At 
 length the hellish drama closed in C14 with a scene of unparalleled 
 horror. Seventeen years after the death of Fredigund, when 
 Brunehild was eighty years of age, she fell into the hands of the 
 son, as she had once before into those of the husband, of her rival. 
 No sanctuary could save her now. Clothair charged her with 
 having caused the death of ten princes of the Merovingian line. 
 Then, after having her tortured during three days, he had her 
 exposed to the derision of the camp at Chalons, seated on a camel. 
 Lastly, she was bound by her long white hair, a hand and a foot, 
 to the tail of a wild horse, and was kicked, literally limb from 
 limb, by the furious and frightened animal. 
 
 We have seen some instances of the esteem in which Teutonic 
 women held their honour. There were Lucretias and Judiths also 
 among them. The Lombard prince Sigehard fell in love with the 
 beautiful wife of Nannigo, one of h'*s officers. When she indig- 
 nantly rejected his advances, lie sent the husband on an embassy to 
 Africa, and this left the unhappy woman in his power. From the 
 moment of her disgrace the wife laid aside all her gay clothing, 
 and covered herself with rags ; she washed and anointed herself no 
 more, and lay on the bare earth. When Nannigo returned, as her 
 welcome, she bade him smite off her head, for his honour was 
 stained. Nannigo sought to comfort her. He raised her, and 
 made her bathe and adorn heiself as of old. But the heart of the 
 noble woman was broken, and she never smiled again. 1 A Frank 
 maid was her own avenger. When insulted by a noble, named 
 Amalo, she caught up his sword and smote him a mortal wound on 
 the head. He lived long enough to prevent his servants irom 
 falling on her, and King (Jhildebert took her under his protection 
 from the vengeance of the kinsmen of Amalo. 2 
 
 Many touching instances of wifely devotion might be quoted. 
 Bertha, the wife of Gerard of Roussillon, clings to him, though she 
 
 1 Chron. Salitern, c. 65. * Greg. Turou. H. F. is. 27. 
 
140 Germany, Present and Past 
 
 knows his heart is estranged from her and fixed on another ; and 
 when ho fails into misfortune, and must secrete himself in wild 
 and desert places, she follows him, comforts him, raises him, and 
 finally rescues him. We have another example in Nanna, wife of 
 the god Baldur. The husband dies through Loki's wiles, and the 
 funeral pyre is raised on a ship, which is sent adrift to sea. But 
 Nanna cannot bear the sight, and her heart breaks. No less 
 devoted is Signy, the wife of Loki. He is condemned to be bound 
 by the entrails of his son to the rock, and Skadi, whose father he 
 had slain, hangs a poisonous serpent above him, so that the venom 
 drops on his face. Signy will not desert him ; she sits ever at his 
 side in the heart of the mountains, catching the venom in a bowl. 
 This lasts till the end of the world. Only when she goes away to 
 empty the bowl does the venom fall on the face of Loki ; and then 
 he writhes in his agony, and the earth quakes. 
 
 In the German story of the Nibelungcn, Kriemhild is the great 
 example of love stronger than death. From the moment that the 
 beloved husband is found lying before her door, transfixed by 
 Haven's hand, her only thought and aim is to avenge his death on 
 his murderers. For this she leaves her home on the banks of the 
 green Rhine, marries the Hungarian king, Etzel, and sacrifices the 
 lives of her brothers, husband, son, and followers. When her 
 purpose is accomplished, when with her own hand she has dealt 
 Ha gen, bound in a dungeon, his death wound, then the blow of 
 Hildebrand's sword is a coup de grace. Her object is achieved, and 
 life has no more charms for her. 
 
 Like Kriemhild in the German story, so is Brunhild in the 
 Northern lays, a mighty example of womanly fidelity. Siegfried 
 dissolves the spell which Odin has cast over the headstrong virgin, 
 and he be I roths her to himself. But by enchantment he is made 
 to forget Brunhild as a dream of the night, and he seeks her hand 
 for Giinther, whose sister Kriemhild he has married. But in 
 Brunhild's heart the oath is not forgotten, her fidel ity is not shaken. 
 With agonising pain she sees the man who belonged to her by 
 right, happy at the side of another. " Like ice and snow cold 
 resolves come over her,'' and she stirs up Giinther to cause the 
 death of Siegfried and his son. With the wolf the cub must perish. 
 The deed is accomplished. When Brunhild hears the piercing 
 cry of Kriemhild, she laughs so loud that the rafters ring. Now 
 
Women. 141 
 
 the hated rival's joy is dissolved, and done fur ever, and now in 
 the nether world Brunhild can be with her betrothed. She stabs 
 herself, and is burned be-ide him on his pyre, wiih a sword between 
 them. Such love and fidelity are indeed terrible, but they are 
 great. In spite of man's unfaithfulness, the soul of the woman 
 remains constant, and her very love leads her to destroy the 
 beloved rather than lut him enjo}'- life with another. In death she 
 may be united to him at, whose side she could not rest in life. It 
 was a feeling such as this which filled the heait of Ingeborg, 
 daughter of Gudmnnd of Gliisisfeld, when she tore out the eyes of 
 her lover, lest he should see aud admire maidens more beautiful 
 than herself. 1 
 
 In the Norse version of the story of Brunhild we see the Teu- 
 tonic woman in primeval savagery and grandeur, surrounded with 
 a mythological halo. In the German version of the tale we see 
 Kriemhild — at least in the first part of the tragedy — as the ideal of 
 German womanhood. Kriemhild is indeed German maidenliness 
 im personified. She is beautiful, pure, gentle, 
 
 As the moon in brightness 
 White outshines each st ir, 
 And through cl >uds its radiance 
 Sircaineth soft and far. 
 
 When she first meets Siegfried in the rose-g trden at Worms — 
 
 Stepped the fair ouo gently, 
 Like tlie morning red 
 Br. aking o'er the mountains, 
 Shade and sorrow fled. 
 
 Who would dream of the depth of passion and stoutness of pur- 
 pose in that placid being? When Siegfried becomes her husband, 
 she loves him as her lord and hero. It is her love which fills her 
 with pride, and impels her to resent the slights of Brunhild. Then 
 crimes Siegfried's murder, and the transformation of the gentle, 
 sunny Kriemhild into a monster of remorseless, unwomanly ferocity. 
 If Kriemhild be one ideal of the old German world, Gudrun is 
 another, the pattern and prototype of woman, patient and forgiving, 
 therefore unlike Kriemhild; but true to death, aud therefore like 
 her too. Kriemhild is, though baptised, a heathen at heart. Gud- 
 
 1 Fornmennir Stitjur, iii. 141. 
 
 x 
 
142 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 run has better learned her catechism. The former is the active, 
 the latter the passive heroine. In quietness and in confidence 
 Gudrnn possesses her soul. Carried away from her home and her 
 betrothed, Herwig, she endures the ill-treatment of Geriind with 
 patience ; and no hard usage will make her break her troth, and 
 take the Norman prince, Hartmuth. Abased to be a handmaid, 
 washing clothes in the sea waves, her bare feet in the snow, and 
 witli hut a shift to screen her fiom the icy blast, she never loses 
 her maidenly dignity, and no insults crush or turn to gall her noble 
 heart. When Herwig comes to the rescue, she steps her ween the 
 conqueors and the conquered to secure peace and the end of blood- 
 shed, and wins mercy from those flushed with victory for those 
 who have ill-used her. 
 
 I think that when we look at some — I may say most — of the 
 sketches given us of the Teutonic woman, and see her, vehement, 
 eating out her heart, consuming herself and others, we may under- 
 stand how it is lhat so many mediaeval German writers make 
 moderation the chief glory to be sought of German Woman, the 
 chief virtue to be acquired, without which she is a danger to 
 society Gottfried of Strassburg, the author of the "Tristan," 
 sang in the twelfth century : 
 
 Von alien Dingen anf dieter Welt, 
 Die je der Sonne Liciit eilullt, 
 1st keins so sel g wie das Weib 
 Das stcts ilir Lcb< n und iliren Leib 
 Und ihre Sitten dem Muss ergiebt. 
 
 And Odilo of Cluny thinks the highest word of praise he can say of 
 Adelheid, widow of Lothair and wife of Otto the Great, is that 
 there was, in spite of her cruel usage, her gi-eat gifts, her high 
 exaltation, " moderation in her." 
 
 With one picture more I shall close this gallery. 
 
 Ilidewig, Duchess of Swahia, widow of Duke Burkhardt, was 
 the most remarkable woman of the tenth centny. Above the end 
 of the Lake of Constance, commanding the whole sweep of the Alps 
 from tho Algiiu to Mont B'anc, rist s the volcanic crag of the 
 Hohentwiel, crowned with the ruins of a mighty castle. There sat 
 Hadewig, left a widow in the bloom of her days, ruling Swabians 
 and Alemanni, and reading Ovid and Virgil with the assistance of 
 Ekkehard, a young monk of St. Gall, whom she had borrowed of lho 
 
"Women. 
 
 abbot to lie "her instructor. The}' read and studied 
 poets, but ever with open doors and in the presence of a servant, 
 that the breath of scandal might not mar the intimacy. 1 The lady 
 Hadewig was beautiful as she was learned, but she was self-willed 
 and violent as either. As a child she had been destined to be the 
 wife of (he Byzmtine, Constaniine VI., and had been instructed in 
 Greek by an eunuch sent for the purpose. But she had not acquired 
 Greek graces. When, in a fit of wrath, she swore "By Hadewig's 
 life," all about her trembled. 
 
 Even her poor preceptor Ekkehard shivered in his habit when 
 one da}' the Duchess ordered a servant " to have hair and skin beat 
 off" — i.e. his hair wrenched out by the roots, and his hide flayed 
 with rods — b. cause he had unintentionally neglected a duty. A 
 modern novelist makes the Duchess fall in love with the monk; 
 stern history relates that she had him one day mercilessly horse- 
 whipped. The "dread lady" Hadewig died at an advanced age in 
 P94. She was no blue-stocking. She loved the Muses, but she 
 ruled like a man, and she led her subjects against the invading 
 Huns and routed them. 
 
 I cannot say, I fear, of this chapter, as Florian did of his 
 Pastorals, that there are only sheep there, no wolves. For though 
 there are, and always have been, German women gentle and dumb 
 as sheep, there are, and always have been, I will not say wolves, 
 among them, but very lively kids, jumping hurdles and climbing 
 the face of precipices. Brunhild, Kriemhild, Hadewig, are the true 
 ancestresses of Geier-Wally, Ernestine, and Felicitas of modern 
 jomance; of* the Eahel, Biachmann, and Daniel Stern of modern 
 reality ; of the tempestuous-souled, emancipated women who boil 
 up to the surface of society every day. And Gudrun, Bafhild, and 
 Bertha have also their representatives in fiction and in fact ; in the 
 G retch en of Goethe, in Auerbach's Btrfussele, in Kleist's Kathchen 
 von Heilbronn, and in almost every household of Germany — the sun- 
 beam that lightens it, the flower tint fills the house with fragrance. 
 The first age of German history and romance shows us side by 
 side two types of women — two ideals, the one impetuous and undis- 
 
 1 That has been reserved for a modern writer, Seheffel, in his Elikehart, an 
 historical romance much belauded. Germany has produced no Walter Scott, so 
 she must glorify a G. P. R. James. Elckehart has much local colour and a strong 
 antiquarian smack, but no otaer merits as a work of fiction, that 1 can perceive. 
 
1 ti Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 ciplined, the other retiring and dumesticatcd. The child is father 
 to the man. I pass over the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, the 
 schooling and the coming out of womanhood, to resume my sketches 
 in the modern period, the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Wo 
 shall see that the types remain, though modified and disguised by 
 the circumstance's and fashiun of the period. 
 
 On the very threshold of modern times stands a characteristic 
 figure, Sophia Charlotte, Princess of Bruuswick Liiueburg, the 
 second wife of Frederic L, who in 1700 exchanged the Electoral 
 cap of Brandenburg for the lioyal crown of Prussia at the price of 
 10,000 men. 1 As a bride she is described in the " Mercurgalant" 
 of 168-f, as slender, clear-complexioned, and combining the beauties 
 of large blue eyes and a prolusion of glossy black hair. Frederic 
 loved pomp and ceremony, was badly educated and ill-shaped, a 
 mixture of shrewdness, selfishness, and meanness. Sophia Char 
 lotte, unable to endure his society, withdrew to Liitzelburg, wheie 
 she kept her simple court, surrounded by men of letters and 
 devoted to the study of philosophy, asking Leibnitz more questions 
 than the savant could answer. " Madame," said he impatiently 
 one day, " } ou want to know the wherefore of every why ! " 
 
 She spoke French, English, and Italian fluently, knew Latin, 
 and was an accomplished musician. But there was none of the 
 son"- and sweetness of life in her soul. Her mind was masculine, 
 and only feminine so far that it was uncreative. She well deserved 
 the title of " the queen philosopher " given her by the people — an 
 honour lis tie to the taste of her orthodox son, Frederic William I., 
 who said of her, " My mother was a wise woman, but a bad 
 Christian." A woman without religion is a flower without sceni, 
 and if dipped in the paraffin of philosophy acquires pungency, but 
 not fragrance. 
 
 Her morals were pure as rock-crystal, and the drops of marital 
 and maternal affection expressed from her were the thawings of an 
 icicle. She died in 1705, with a note of interrogation on her 
 tongue; with philosophic composure addressing her ladies-in-wait- 
 ing: "J.Jo not bewail me. I am going now to learn the answer to 
 all my queries into the origin of things which Leibnitz could not 
 o-iye. I am going to solve the mysteries of space and of infinity, 
 
 1 Whom he sold to the Emperor as mercenaries for the right to call himself 
 a king. 
 
Women. 145 
 
 of being and of not-being. As for tbe King my husband, I shall 
 supply him with the opportunity of making a public display of my 
 funeral such as he dearly loves." 
 
 A more genial, and a far grander character, was the great 
 Empress Maria Theresa. Few men or women who have worn 
 crowns have succeeded in exerting such a fascination as this 
 daughter and successor of the last of the Habsburgs. In the 
 spring of her life, nobly built, her dignity of majesty and charm of 
 womanhood combined to turn the scale of her fortune at the most 
 eventful period in her career. France, England, Saxony, and 
 Prussia, were combined with Bavaria to reject her claims. The 
 Elector of Cologne acknowledged her only by the title of Arch- 
 duchess ; the Elector Palatine sent her a letter by the common 
 post, superscril ed " To the Archduchess Maria Theresa ; " and the 
 King of Spain refused her any other title than Duchess of Tuscany. 
 Her Ministry were timorous, desponding, irresolute, worn out with 
 age, or quelled by the impending dangers. Her only hope lay in 
 Hungary, where but shortly before the sovereignty of the Habs- 
 burgs bad been established by the eifusion of torrents of blood. 
 She flew to Presburg, convoked the magnates, and appeared among 
 them attired in Hungarian costume, the crown of St. Stephen on 
 her head and his sword at her side. Piadiant with beauty and 
 spirit, she addressed the Diet, and called on the nobles as cavaliers 
 to stand by a woman in her jeopardy. The whule assembly, 
 tired with sudden enthusiasm, burst into the unanimous shout, 
 ■• Moriamur pro rege nostro Maria Theresa !" and took the field at 
 the head of their serfs, 30,000 cavalry, and the wild hordes of 
 Pandurs and Croats. 
 
 There was nothing superficial, frivolous, imperfect, artificial in 
 this splendid woman. She was true to her heart's core, towering 
 in every point but one — sagacity in the choice of Ministers — above 
 that English Queen to whom she has been often likened, Elizabeth. 
 Elizabeth was great because of her Ministers; Maiia Theresa was 
 great in herself. Elizabeth was a mixture of meanness in money 
 matters, vanity, and jealousy; Maria Theresa was a great pruner 
 down of expenses. Notwithstanding the loss of Naples and of 
 Silesia, which used to bring in six millions of florins, her skilful 
 administration raised the revenues from thirty to thirty-six 
 millions. She was full of Belf-ra-.pect, but in no way vain ; once 
 
 L 
 
140 Genua uy, Present and Past. 
 
 only did she lower herself, and that was in addressing Madame de 
 Pompadour as her "dear cousin;" but that was in a moment of 
 urgency, when everything depended on detaching France from the 
 Bavarian cause. With the tenderest love to her faithless husband, 
 she was above the jealousy of woman. When she was leaving the 
 deathbed of Charles VI., she passed his mistress, the Princess of 
 Aucrsperg, crouching in a corner, neglected by the servants. 
 Maria Theresa stopped, turned, and extending her hand to her, 
 said : " My dear princess, what have not we lost this day ! " 
 
 She was a woman with the most delicate sensibility of a female 
 heart controlled by strong principle; she demanded purity of 
 morals from her court and people, and showed a dazzling example 
 of a blameless life in an age of unblushing licentiousness. As 
 regent she was despotic ; but her despotism was patriarchal and 
 idyllic. She was pious, but not bigoted ; a devout Catholic, but 
 ready to sign the expulsion of the Jesuits from the realm. 1 The 
 warm impulses of her heart broke through the restraints of Spanish 
 formality which had enveloped the court; as when, on her hus- 
 band's coronation, her clear bell-like voice led the cheers; more 
 remarkably in 17G8, when the news reached her of the birth of her 
 first grandson, the child of the Grand-Duke Leopold. The news 
 was brought to her as she was stepping into bed. Instantly, for- 
 getful of her deshabille, she flew through the corridor of the palace 
 into the royal lodge of the court theatre, and leaning over the 
 breasting, communicated the glad tidings to the people in the pit 
 in their own Viennese dialect. " Der Poldi (Leopold) hat ein 
 Bhuaha (Bube), und grad zuin Bindband auf mein Hochzeitstag ! — 
 der ist galant ! " 2 
 
 The 1'rincess Amelia of Brunswick, married in 1756, at the age 
 of sixteen, to the Duke of Weimar, shall lead us out of the circle of 
 royalty into that of literature. The union was one in which the 
 heart had little share. "From childhood," she wrote, "my lot has 
 been nothing but self-saciifice. Never was education so little 
 fitted as mine to form one destined to rule others. Those who 
 
 1 A copy of her confessions marie to a Jesuit piiest was sent her from Spain, 
 whither the confessor had forwarded it to the General of his Order. This 
 opened her eyes to the character of the Order. 
 
 2 "Our Leopold has got a boy ou the very anniveisary of my marriage: is he 
 not polite ! " 
 
Women. 147 
 
 directed it themselves needed direction ; she to whose guidance 1 
 was entrusted, was the sport, of every pastion. subject to innumer- 
 able wayward caprices, of which I became the unresisting victim. 
 Unloved by my parents, ever kept in the background, I was 
 regarded as the outcast of the family. The sensitive feelings I 
 had received from nature made me keenly alive to this cruel treat- 
 ment ; it often drove me to despair ; I became silent, reserved, 
 concentrated, obstinate. I suffered myself to 'be reproached, in- 
 sulted, beaten, without uttering a word, and still as far as possible 
 persisted in my own course. At length, in my sixteenth year, I 
 was married. In my seventeenth I became a mother. It was the 
 first unmingled joy I had ever known. It seemed to me as though 
 a host of new and varied feelings had sprung to life with my 
 child. My heart became lighter, my ideas clearer ; I gained more 
 confidence in myself. In my eighteenth year arrived the greatest 
 epoch in my life. I became a mother for the second time, a widow, 
 and regent of the duchy. I felt my own incapacity, and yet I was 
 compelled to find everything in my own resources. Never have I 
 prayed with deeper and truer devotion than at that moment. 
 I believe I might have become the greatest of saints. When the 
 first excitement was over, I confess, however, that my feelings 
 were those of awakened vanitj\ Eegent, and so young ! To rule 
 and command ! An inner voice whispered, Beware ! I listened, 
 and reason triumphed. Truth and self-love struggled for the 
 mastery, and truth prevailed. Then came war. My brother and 
 nearest relatives were crowned with laurels. My ambition was 
 roused. I, too, longed for praise. Day and night I studied to 
 render myself mistress of my new duties. Then I felt how 
 absolutely 1 needed a friend in whom I could place entire con- 
 fidence. Many sought my favour, some by flattery, others by a 
 show of disinterestedness. I seemed to accept all, in the hope of 
 finding among them the pearl of great price. At length I did find 
 it, and I was filled with the joy others experience in lighting on a 
 v;ist treasure." 
 
 She speedily displayed talents for government which, in a 
 wider sphere of action, might have given her a name in history. 
 The state of the little duchy was lamentable ; the treasury was 
 empty, agriculture was neglected, the people were discontented. 
 With the aid of her faithful ministers she succeeded in restoring 
 
14-8 Germany, Present g,nd Past. 
 
 something like order to the exhausted finances, established schools 
 and charitable asylums, and left untried no means of promoting 
 the general prosperity. Disgusted with the wearisome etiquette 
 to which her youth had been a victim, she banished all that was 
 not absolutely indispensable to the due maintenance of her dignity; 
 while in her love of literature .'•he succeeded in drawing round her 
 a galaxy of genius, which recalled the court of Ferrara in the days 
 of Alfonso. 
 
 Into that circle we will now enter, and see what the women 
 were who associated with the great revivers of literature, of poetry, 
 and art. 
 
 The rococo period had been one, in Germany as in France, of 
 female degradation. The little courts of Germany had been filled 
 and ruled by mistresses, and the proudest ambition of a lady was 
 to lose her honour to a prince. A fever of French imitation had 
 swept over Germany, and the petty sovereigns, unable to emulate 
 the polish and courtesy of the Gallic court, aped its vices. Pulitesse 
 rendered into German is gaucherie. The minuet is danced in 
 sabots. The courts of Berlin, Stuttgart, Dresden, Weimar, and 
 Cassel had striven which could surpass the oti-er in licentiousness. 
 It was the ass of the fable imitating the lapdog. Versailles 
 exhibited the refinement of voluptuousness, these little courts 
 vice in its grossness. In the midst of this degradation the ideal of 
 German womanhood was lost. It had to be recovered by a set of 
 experiments. There was something beautiful, if unreal, in the 
 glorification of woman by the Minnesingers of the Middle Ages 
 there was something affected and grotesque in the idealism of 
 the new generation of German poets. 
 
 As with the Minnesingers so was it with the poets of the 
 transition. Woman w T as elevated to a pedestal on which she 
 could not balance herself. They affected platonic affection which 
 showed an inveterate tendency to lapse into liaisons cVamour. 
 
 They taught that love was eternal and omnipotent, and those 
 who imbibed their teaching found it only to be a freakish elf with 
 the life of a may-fly. They pointed to it as a pharos casting its 
 dazzling beams over the tossing wafers of life, and their dupes 
 learned too late that it shone to teach them what to avoid, mf, 
 what to aim at. Whilst the Duchess was surrounding herself 
 with those who were to cast a blaze of'light through the intellectual 
 
Women. 149 
 
 world, she was creating also a great cloaca of moral corruption. 
 With Don Quixote onu exclaims: "Holy Mary ! is it possible that 
 the lady duchess should have such drains." 
 
 Let us look at Wielaud, whom the Duchess Amalie chose to "be 
 the instructor of her son. 
 
 When Wieland was seventeen he met at his father's parsonage 
 the beauliful Sophie Gutermann, sent there to recover her heart 
 after an unhappy love-affair with an Italian. Wieland, in all the 
 enthusiasm of youth, and Sophie, with the changeableness of 
 woman, fell madly in love with one another. " It was an ideal, 
 but a true enchantment in which I lived," wrote Wieland later, 
 " and the Sophie I loved so enthusiastically was the ideal of 
 perfection embodied in her form. Nothing is more certain than 
 that if we had not been brought together I should never have been 
 a poet." They cast themselves on their knees, pledged their ever- 
 lasting troth, and sealed the bond with a delirious kiss. 
 
 Wieland went thence to Zurich, where he wrote licentious 
 verses ; thence to Berne, where he fell in love with Julie Bondeli, 
 an enthusiast, who went about preaching the doctrines of Bousseau. 
 He asked her to marry him. " Tell me," she inquired, " will you 
 never love another?" "Never," he answered, " except I find one 
 more beautiful, more unfortunate, and more virtuous." Julie had 
 the sense to decline such doubtful devotion. 
 
 Then he became the guest of Count Stadion at Warthausen. 
 Sophie in the meantime had married M. Laroche. " Our friend- 
 ship," she wrote to the poet, " need not be broken by this union 
 with another. We shall meet one another in the Land of the 
 Blessed." At Warthausen they met again. What the meeting 
 must have been we may divine from a description of a second 
 many years later, when he was thirty-eight and she forty-one, 
 which, as a picture of the exaggerated sentimentality of the period, 
 deserves quotation. I must, however, premise that the ecstasies 
 and raptures did not prevent Wieland falling in love with, his old 
 love's sister. 
 
 "We heard a coach drive up," writes Jacobi, "and looked out 
 of the window. It was Wieland ; Herr von Laroche ran down the 
 steps, and I after him, to meet him at the door. Wieland was 
 moved and somewhat bewildered. In the meantime the wife of 
 Laroche came down — all at once he saw her — and I noticed him 
 
150 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 Shudder. Then he turned aside, threw his hat impetuously on the 
 ground, and tottered towards Sophie. All this took place with 
 such an extraordinary agitation in all Wieland's features and 
 person, that I felt my nerves shaken. Sophie went to meet her 
 friend with wide expanded arms ; hut instead of receiving her 
 embrace, he clasped her hands, and howed to hury his face in them. 
 Sophie hent with heavenly sweetness over him, and said, in a tone 
 which no clarionette or dubois could equal, ' Wieland — Wieland 
 — yes ! it is you ! You are ever my dear Wieland ! ' lie, roused 
 by this moving voice, raised himself somewhat, looked into the 
 weeping eyes of his friend, and then let his face sink into her 
 arms. None of us bystanders could refrain from tears ; mine 
 streamed down my cheeks ; I burst into sobs ; I was beyond 
 myself, and to the present moment cannot tell how the scene ended 
 and we managed to find our way back into the room." 
 
 In the end Wieland married, prosaically and respectably enough, 
 one Dorothea Hildebrand, whom lie describes in a letter to Gessner, 
 as " an innocent, amiable being, gentle, cheerful, and unspoiled, 
 not very pretty, but quite pretty enough for a woithy man who 
 wants an agreeable housewife." When Wieland was called to 
 Weimar by the Duchess to undertake the education of her eldest 
 son, Charles Augustus, the young prince was in his sixteenth year. 
 The appointment was not unopposed; it was not difficult to point 
 out passages in his "Agathon" and " Musarion " too faithfully 
 reflecting the moral licence of his own life at Ziiiich. But the 
 Duchess, who, despite the unsullied purity of her own character, 
 was somewhat tainted with the sentimentality and philosophic 
 rationalism of the day, and who held the delusive though plausible 
 theory that no licence of tone, or warmth of colouring, could injure 
 a healthy and high-toned mind, cast these objections to the winds. 
 Not a few attributed the tendency to licentious habits in Charles 
 Augustus, if not to the instructions of his tutor, at least to the 
 perusal of his woiks. 
 
 In 177(5 the Duchess resigned the reins of government to her 
 son, then aged eighteen. " My son," were her last words on 
 quitting her little capital, " I confide to your hands the happiness 
 of your subjects ; be it your care, as it has been mine." 
 
 Herder was another of those whom the Princess attracted to 
 Weimar. Like Lessing, he may be regarded as one of the pioneers 
 
Women. 151 
 
 of German thought. Through Goethe's influence he was named 
 court preacher and superintendent of the schools established by 
 the Duchess at Weimar. He married Maria Cornelia Flachsland. 
 This is her account of their first meeting : — 
 
 " Herder preached. I heard the voice of an angel, and soul- 
 words unheard by me before. In the afternoon I saw him, and 
 stammered out my thanks. From that moment our souls were 
 one. Our meeting was God's work. More intimately could not 
 hearts be united than ours. My love was a feeling, a harmony. 
 When I spoke with him for the first time alone no words were 
 necessary ; we were one heart, one soul, no separation could divide 
 us." 
 
 Here is one of her love letters: "Oh! what art thou doing, 
 blessed, sweetest youth?" (he was then thirty- seven). "Are you 
 dreaming of me? Do yuu love me still? Oh, pardon me that I 
 ask ! In your last godlike epistle you call me ' your girl,' and 
 nevertheless I am constrained to ask this question ! I live so 
 much in musing on 3 ou, that I cannot help this. But away with 
 the doubt, the dream ; you are mine, mine, ah ! in my heart, 
 eternally mine ! Do you hear nothing stirring round you, 
 sweetest of men, not in the moonlight, when by the hour I am 
 alone, and jet with you? Do you hear nothing? not my heart 
 beat to you across space? Does not my angel hover round you, 
 and sigh into your soul the tidings that I am with you ? 
 sympathy, sympathy!" That was in 1775. In 1787 Schiller 
 saw them married, and wrote to Korner, " Herder and his wife live 
 in an egoistic solitude, and form together a sort of sacred twinity, 
 from which every earthborn son is excluded. But as both are 
 proud, both impetuous, this divinity comes to jars within itself. 
 When they are in ill-temper with one another they sulk apart in 
 different stories of the house, and letters pass up and down stairs 
 incessantly, till at last the wife resolves to visit the room of her 
 husband, in her own person. Then she enters reciting from his 
 works the passage : ' One who has condescended thus far must be 
 divine, and none can find fault in such.' Then the overcome 
 Herder precipitates himself into her arms, and the quarrel is at 
 an end." 
 
 Herder's temper was too uncertain, his sensibility too morbidly 
 keen to permit him to live on good terms with those around him. 
 
152 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 He was perpetually imagining some offence where none was in- 
 tended, and lending every word and action an import of which their 
 author probably had never even dreamt. Thus he fell out with 
 Goethe and Schiller, and waged an angry feud with them. Cor- 
 nelia, like a woman, fanned the strife, like a wife took her husband's 
 side without questioning whether he were right or wrung. To 
 Jacobi Herder wrote, " My wife is the mainstay, the consolation, 
 t lie happiness of my life. Even in quick- flying transient thoughts, 
 we are one." 
 
 Goethe, in his " Sorrows of Werther," fed the flame of false 
 sentiment which pervaded the literary world. There were sorrow- 
 ful Weithers everywhere, despairing Lottes, and suicide became 
 fashionable. Heinrich von Kleist was of noble birth but mediocre 
 fortune. Endowed by nature with every element of happiness, he 
 seemed on his entrance into life to have before him a long career of 
 prosperity. But he was filled with the morbid sentimental craze 
 of the day. He broke off an engagement of years with a young and 
 charming girl, who loved him with her whole heart, and was ready 
 to make all imaginable sacrifices for him, because she would not 
 create a romance out of the marriage his parents were ready to ap- 
 prove, by secretly eloping with him into a wilderness, to dwell a 
 pastoral life in a cabin, instead of marrying him in the open light 
 of day. Wieland and Goethe befriended him, and drew out his rare 
 poetic and dramatic powers. He formed the acquaintance of a 
 young and beautiful woman, Henriette Vogel. Both were passion- 
 ately fond of music, and both were morbid to the verge of madness. 
 On November 20, 1811, a young man and woman descended from a 
 carriage at the door of a little inn, about a mile from Potsdam, on 
 the banks of a lake formed by the Havel. They supped meirily, 
 passed the night in writing letters, and next morning, after a 
 slight repast, set off for a walk, desiring that coffee should be 
 brought them in the most picturesque part of the valley. The} r had 
 been absent for a short while when two pistol-shots were heard. 
 The servant who went to seek them found them corpses. Henriette 
 was lying full length at a trunk of an old blasted tree, picturesquely 
 posed, with her hands foiled on her bosom; Kleist was kneeling 
 before her : he had shot himself through the brain. The curious 
 part of the story remains to be told. Kleist was not in love with 
 her. She had wrung from him a promise to do what she bid him, 
 
 
Women. 153 
 
 an J (lien she proposed this double murder, which he, with a perverse 
 sense of honour, executed according to her wishes and directions. 
 
 Louise Caroline Brachmann was another of these sick souls. 
 She was a woman of genius and fine poetic instinct. If her novels 
 did not rise above mediocrity, this was not the case with her veises. 
 At the age of twenty-three, in a morbid fit, she flung herself over 
 the banisters of her father's house, without, however, doing heiself 
 a mortal injury. In a craze of poetic passion, when aged forty- 
 three, she eloped with a man some twenty years her junior, and, 
 when she found that her bliss was not equal to what she had been 
 led by her idealism to suppose, she threw herself by night into the 
 river. 
 
 Goethe and Schiller were both sons of clever women. The Frau 
 Rathinn Catharina Elizabeth Goethe was one whom princes and 
 princesses were glad to associate with, for her genial wit — a wit 
 which shone out even on her death-bed, when, an invitation to 
 dinner having reached her, she sent back "her regards, but un- 
 fortunately the Frau Kathinn cannot accept it, being forced to die." 
 Elizabeth Dorothea Schiller, the baker's daughter, was gentle, re- 
 tiring, and tender; but she, as well as the "Frau Kathinn," was 
 able to discern the buds of genius in her child, and devote herself 
 to their development. 
 
 Goethe, engaged to Lili (Anna Elizabeth Schonemann), whom 
 he loved, at one time, at all events, passionately, actually fell madly 
 in love with another woman he had never seen, but whose per- 
 fections he had conjured up in his brain. This was Augusta, 
 Countess of Stolberg, and for her sake, whom he could not possibly 
 many, so strict was the line of demarcation dividing nobles from 
 burger, he broke off his engagement to Lili. 
 
 " My dearest," he writes, " I will give you no name, for what 
 are the names of friend, sister, beloved, bride, or even a word 
 which would comprehend all these, in comparison with my 
 feelings? I can write no more." To this he added his silhouette, 
 entreating she would send him hers in return; the receipt of it 
 seems to have filled him with delight. "How completely is my 
 belief in phj-siognomy confirmed," he writes; "that pure thought- 
 ful eye " — traced in gold on black paper — "that sweet firm nose, 
 those dear lips. Thanks, my love, thanks. Oh ! that I could 
 repose in your heart, rest in your eyes." 
 
l">i Germany, Present and Pad. 
 
 At Weimar ho loved, not indeed for the first, second, or third 
 time, but with a warmth, a tenderness, and above all, a constancy, 
 which neither the fair, innocent, and trusting Fredrica, nor the 
 bright and graceful Lili, had been able to inspire. And yet the 
 woman to whom was reserved the triumph of fettering for ten 
 long years the heart of one of the most gifted and most incon- 
 stant of mortals, was no longer in the early bloom of womanhood; 
 she had attained her thirty-third year, and Goethe was but twenty- 
 eight. Beautiful, in the strict sense of the word, she had never 
 been, but there was mingled grace, sweetness, and dignity in her 
 demeanour, which exercised a singular fascination on all around 
 her. Goethe, the young, the gallant, the admiied of all admirers, 
 was at once enthralled by her spell. " I can only explain," he 
 writes to Wieland, "the power she exercises over me by the theory 
 of the transmigration of souls. Yes! we were formerly man and 
 wife. Now, I can find no name for us, for the past, the future." 
 Unluckily Charlotte von Stein was already the wife of another, 
 the mother of six children. That she returned the passion of her 
 adorer cannot be doubted, but there is reason to believe she never 
 transgressed the strictest bonds of virtue. 1 She was married while 
 yet a girl to a man infinitely her inferior in mental acquirements, 
 and for whom she could have little sympathy or affection. She 
 was thrown, by her position as lady of honour to the Dowager 
 Duchess, into the constant society of the young and brilliant 
 genius, already the day-star of his age and country. Proud, may 
 be, in her conscious virtue, she could not prevail on herself to 
 break an intercourse replete with danger to herself and him, but 
 one which flattered her vanity and charmed, her mind. He en- 
 treated her to obtain a divorce and come to his arms, but this she 
 constantly refused; and then, in a fit of disgust, Goethe threw 
 himself at the feet of (Jhristiane Vulpius. 2 Who would have 
 imagined it possible that the great poet, living in a world of ideas, 
 peopled by forms of superhuman beauty and etherenl refinement, 
 should be charmed and held by a simple ill-instructed woman 
 
 1 She got buck all ber letters to the poet and destroyed tbem, to save Ibem 
 from becoming public propeity. 
 
 2 As though he had been a prince, he gave her but his left hand when he 
 married her. The marriage took place in 180G, seventeen years after the birth 
 of his son. The young August von Goethe was born on Frau von Stein's birth- 
 day — Christmas Day, 1789. 
 
 
Women. 155 
 
 with gold-brown hair, fresh cheeks and lively eyes, but essentially 
 common in her order of mind and beauty. However, as Lord 
 Lytton says — 
 
 We mny live without friends, we may live without books, 
 Yet civilised man cannot live without cooks. 
 
 And Goethe found, in his old age, when his lively and clever 
 daughter-in-law entered the household, that there was rest fur 
 his heated brain on the bosom of the devoted and careful Christiane. 
 The cook and the sylph did not agree. The younger, fair, full of 
 talent, and aristocratic whims, could not endure her mother-in- 
 law, who, despite her good points, was nothing but a first-rate 
 housekeeper, and whose charms consisted in preparing savoury 
 dinners for the great man, and refreshing him, when weary, with 
 good soup and somewhat coarse merriment. Doubtless, a sincere 
 affection glowed in her bosom, but an intellectual companion for 
 the poet and thinker she never could be nor pretended to be. 
 Probably he did not ask it of her. He had had enough of clever 
 women. He found in Christiane that fresh nature, always so 
 delightful to a poet's heart, and he was disgusted with the arti- 
 ficiality of Weimar Court ladies. That he really did love her is 
 proved by the fact that he, usually so cold, so composed, was 
 completely overcome as he stood beside her dying bed ; that he 
 knelt down, took her hand, and exclaimed with passionate grief, 
 " You will not leave me, — no, no, you must not leave me." He 
 was then an old man — most of those who had belonged to his 
 generation had passed away, and despite the homage and flattery 
 that surrounded him, he felt that without that faithful heart he 
 should be alone. "With this homage the despised Christiane may 
 rest content. 
 
 To Weimar came also Jean Paul Eichter, who, in his " Flower, 
 Fruit, and Thorn Pieces," has left us so true a picture of the 
 unwholesome striving of his day after an ideal woman, intellectual 
 and angelic, and of its readiness to break a home-spun tie to attain 
 to an union — spiritual, but also gross — with one of these exalted 
 and emancipated souls. 
 
 Siebenkiis, advocate of the poor, a needy author, is engaged on 
 the "Selections from the Devil's Papers" — a series of satires. He 
 is married to Wendeline, a lrurnble, hard-working, simple girl, 
 
156 Germany, Present and Past 
 
 whom the reader of "Flower, Fruit, and Thorn Pieces" cannot 
 help loving with all his heart. The poor couple have only two 
 rooms over a baker's ; in one room they eat, and he writes, the 
 other is the bedroum, and it opens out of the iiist. I must condense 
 a scene. 
 
 "During the mute quarrel of the preceding days, Siebenkas 
 had unfortunately, whilst writing, accustomed his ear to listen to 
 Lenette's movements; and every step and noise affected him and 
 killed his hatching ideas, as a loud report will kill a brood of 
 silkworms. At first he kept his feelings under tolerable control ; 
 he reflected that his wife must move about, and so long as she was 
 in the body could not handle furniture and glide through the 
 room noiselessly as a sunbeam. However, on the morning on 
 which they had patched up their difference, he said to his wife, 
 ' If possible, Lenette, don't make much noise to-day, it disturbs 
 me in my literary labours.' ' 1 thought you could scarcely hear 
 me,' she answered, ' I move so softlj'.' Woe to Siebenkas ; he 
 had made the request in a foolish moment ; now he had laid on 
 himself the task of watching, all the time he was working, to see 
 how Lenette conformed to his wishes. She tripped over the web 
 of her household work with light spider's feet; and Siebenkas was 
 forced to be very much on the alert to hear her hands or feet ; but 
 with an effort he heard, and liitle that passed escaped his attention, 
 kept now on a strain. When we are not asleep we pay more 
 attention to slight noises than to loud ones ; so now ear and soul 
 were awake counting her steps, and working him to such a pitch 
 of irritation, that lie jumped up, and cried to his creeping partner, 
 'I have been listening for hours to this muffled pit-a-pat. Put on 
 iron clogs, I should prefer that. Go on as usual, dearest.' She 
 obeyed, and went about as much as possible in her usual manner. 
 As he had abolished her loud walk, and her quiet walk, now he 
 longed to do away with her intermediate walk; but no man likes 
 to contradict himself twice in one morning. In the evening, 
 however, he begged her to go about in her stocking soles whilst 
 he was writing. 
 
 "Next day he sat in judgment on everything that was going 
 on behind his back, questioning in himself whether it was 
 absolutely necessary for Lenette to do it, or whether she might not 
 have let it alone. Ho bore it with tolerable fortitude till 
 
Women. 157 
 
 Wendell ne went into the bed-room and swept the straw- under 
 the bed with a long broom. Without rising from Lis seat he 
 called to the domestic sweep in the bed-chamber : * Lenette, pray 
 don't scratch and scrape with that broom, it prevents my thinking.' 
 Lenette now became quiet by degrees. She put away her broom, 
 and only pushed three ears of straw and some flue under the bed 
 with the whisk. Quite beyond his expectations, the editor of ' The 
 Devil's Tapers' succeeded in hearing this, whereupon he got up, 
 went to the chamber-door, and called out, ' Dearest, the hellish 
 torment is as great as evei - , so long as I can hear at all.' ' I have 
 done now,' she answered, and she softly closed the door as he 
 resumed his work. But that was too much : he concluded there 
 was something brewing, so he laid aside his pen and called, 
 ' Lenette, I can't hear what you are at, but I know you are 
 doing something. For God's sake let it alone.' She answered, 
 with a voice trembling with the violence of her exertions, ' Nothing. 
 I am not doing anything.' He arose and opened the door of his 
 torture chamber. His wife was rubbing away with a piece of grey 
 flannel, scouring the rails of the bed." 
 
 Siebenkas goes to Baireuth, where he makes the acquaintance 
 of a Natalie Aquiliana: "a female figure, clad entirely in black, 
 with a white veil, holding a failed nosegay in her hand," who, 
 standing before a jet-d'eau, thus for the first time addresses him: 
 " Whence is it that a fountain raises the spirits and the heart, but 
 that this visible sinking, this dying of the water-streams from 
 above downwards, gives me a feeling of anxiety every time I see 
 it? In life this terrible fallins; in from above is never made 
 visible to us." Here was a soul full of sentiment which could 
 moralise over a squirt. Siebenkas rushes into the wood and 
 meditates on divorcing Lenette. Eventually he plays a cruel 
 trick on his wife : pretends to die, ha< a wax figure buried in his 
 place, and then flies to find aesthetic happiness by melting his soul 
 into that of Natalie. 
 
 Goethe had reversed the experiences of Siebenkas. He had tried 
 many soaring dream-wrapped Natalies, and had found them in- 
 tolerable as companions. He found rest for his soul on the simple 
 affection and in the good cooking of a Lenette. St. Feti-r of 
 Alcantara lay with his head against a spike to keep him awake, but 
 he was imbecile. Men of active intellects exact of their wives 
 
l.")8 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 Iluit they should be their mental and material pillows, not 
 domestic goads to sting them to fresh activity. An explosive 
 genius is happier plugged with a cork than matched with a Inciter. 
 Jean Paul himself was t<>o wise to hind himself to either Charlotte 
 vim Kalb or Emilie von Berlepsch. When Richter came to 
 Weimar, Frau von Kalb 1 laid herself out to win him. They wrote 
 daily to one another. She was some years older than Richter and 
 had a husband, but at that time ihat was nothing. Her imposing 
 exterior, the fire of her large dark eyes — a fire of mingled genius 
 and voluptuousness— the gi'ace and vigour of her language, the 
 exalted sentiments she gave utterance to, her passionate emotions, 
 that might consume as well as warm, made at once a strong 
 impression on Richter. She was the original of his Linda in the 
 " Titan." She had admired his writings before she saw him, and 
 when she made his acquaintance she threw herself at his feet. 
 Genius was god-like, and to a god everything may be granted. 
 She was daily with him, sent him books and newspapers, and 
 procured for him every convenience she could obtain, and intro- 
 duced him to the whole circle of her friends. A few days after his 
 arrival at Weimar he wrote to Otto : " She has two great things, 
 great eyes, such as I never saw before, and a great soul. She 
 speaks as Herder writes on humanity. She is strong, full, and her 
 face — I would I could describe it. When she raises her heavenly 
 eyelids, it is as though clouds were lifted from the face of the 
 moon. Over thirty times she repeats to me, ' You are a wonderful 
 man!'" On leaving Weimar he wrote a little piece, " Mondfin- 
 sterniss," in which he expressed his feelings on female virtue, and 
 his abhorrence of all but legitimate unions, and sent it to 
 Charlotte. She then showed herself in her true colours. She was 
 saturated with the aesthetic doctrine then fashionable in German 
 cultivated society, that all virtue is from within, and that the 
 external relations of life are of little consequence in a moral point 
 of view. Nature was divine ; its voice mu>t be listened to and 
 obeyed. " Religion," she wrote, " is nothing but the unfolding and 
 elevation of all our powers and the direction of our natural instincts. 
 The creature should suffer no restraints. Love obeys no laws." 
 Richter was shocked, and an estrangement ensued. Frau von 
 Kalb offered to divorce her husband if he would take her, but he 
 1 Ten years before she tried the same ganie on with Schiller. 
 
Women. 159 
 
 (""oclinod the doubtful honour. Erailie von Berlepsch, a young 
 widow, was the next to assail him ; she met him when his heart 
 was bleeding for his mother's loss, and she took occasion to ingratiate 
 h'iscif into his affections. He wrote to Otto, "I have found the 
 first female soul that I can completely unite with without weariness, 
 without contrariety ; that can improve me while I improve her. 
 She is too nobl^ and perfect to be eulogised with a drop of ink." 
 
 Emilie wrote to him, when they parted, after he left the baths 
 where he had accidentally met her, " Follow your heart when it 
 speaks for me, for notwithstanding all your sympathy and goodness, 
 there hangs about me a doubt. Do not regard any impediments 
 which may stand between us. What we lose at present eternity 
 can not restore. There is for me only one real, pure joy, and in 
 no future life can there be a higher — the sympathy of my soul 
 with yours. Ah ! as yet we have said nothing to each other. I 
 do not pray you to love me, but to look into the unfathomable 
 heaveu you have created in me. If you can admire that, you will 
 never destroy it. Would that I could write to j'ou something 
 more of thought than of feeling ! I, who am nine parts reason, 
 and one miserable tenth part heart, forget all logic when, pen in 
 hand, I correspond with ycu. I become a susceptible girl again 
 when writing to you." But Bichter would not be drawn into the 
 whirlpool. He wrote to his friend from Weimar : " The Berlepsch 
 is here ! I find in her a soul that is not below my ideal, and I 
 should be happy in her friendship, if she avouIc! not be too happy 
 with me." He knew that such stormy heroines as Berlepsch and 
 Kalb were never foyned as wives for him. He needed a mild and 
 gentle spirit, in whose unselfish love he could find a sanctuary for 
 his heart. Though Emilie was the Natalie of Siebenkiis, he was 
 prepared to reverse his tale, run away from her, and seek a 
 Lenette. He knew intuitively that with a Berlepsch he could 
 have found no repose, with Frau von Kalb no security. Men do 
 not attach themselves to rockets ; they prefer to observe them from 
 a distance. Bichter married unhappily after all. 
 
 The poets and philosophers of the Transition made their own 
 experiences ; but in making them they wrought sad mischief with 
 their aesthetic theories. They taught that the perfection of life 
 was found in the pursuit and worship of the beautiful ; and leligion 
 is but the sentiment of the beautiful. Finely constituted souls 
 
100 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 can only exist in a state of aesthetics. Such souls have an affinity 
 for each other and naturally combine. The relations of social life 
 are subordinate, and made or unmade according to the ' elective 
 affinities' of these ethereal spirits. Along with this sestheticism 
 went an extravagant, sentimental expansiveness ; in family or 
 friendly unions the freest play was given to the expression of the 
 tenderest emotions. Tears and embraces were so much in vogue 
 that, if two of any company .were at all justified in indulging in 
 them, the rest fell on one another's necks from pure sympathetic 
 contagion. In these duels of emotion the seconds were expected 
 to support their principals, and to be as ready with their tears as 
 their ancestors were with their swords. The fashion was not con- 
 fined to silly people, who had no ideas beyond the circle of their 
 feelings, but infected, as we have seen, the most educated and 
 intellectual classes. And yet, in the midst of these sighs and 
 rnaunderings, the foundations were laid of that comprehensive 
 culture which is the pride of German thought, and the restoration 
 was begun of the ruined temple of womanliness wrecked by the 
 brutalities of the rococo period. It was an age of classic love of 
 beauty, mediaeval sentimentality, and modern rationalism; and 
 the three elements combined, with much spluttering and not a 
 little heat, to form in the end the solid civilisation of the present 
 generation. 
 
 Among the Protestant courts and in the circles of the literary, 
 Christianity was regarded as an exhausted belief; what religion 
 was professed was Deism ; but it was a Deism without ethic 
 obligations. Men and women alike, when they rejected the 
 dogmas of Christianity and reverence for Scripture, lost the 
 grounds of a sound morality, and in the cultivation of hysterical 
 sentimentality thought everything was justified which poetry could 
 gloss and passion sublimate. This aberration meets us in Burger's 
 relations to women. We see there a fever of sentiment, glorified 
 by the might of poetry, and lifted into the sphere of spirituality, 
 regardless of all first principles of sober ethics. Burger says of his 
 Molly: "In this costly, heaven-s mled being the flower of sensi- 
 bility savours so exquisitely that the finest organs of spiritual 
 love can scarce perceive the aroma." Intoxicated by this aroma, 
 however, he did not hesitate to make Molly his more than spiritual 
 wife, and mother of a son, beside his real wife, her sister Dorette, 
 
 
Women. 161 
 
 and to present himself in public with the two sisters as his two 
 wives, and glorify the union as made divine by the Olympian halo 
 which surrounded it. The life of a later poet, Clemens Brentano, 
 one of the Romantic school, tells the same story, but it tells also 
 of woman exercising a benign and healing influence on a torn and 
 ruined life. As student at Jena, he fell in love with Sophie 
 Mereau, a poetess, then thirty years old, wife of one of the pro- 
 fessors, and after three years' struggle to overcome their mutual 
 passion, Sophie divorced herself from her husband and flew into 
 the embraces of the young poet. In the third year of her second 
 married life Sophie died, and left Brentano to ramble through the 
 world in quest of another heroic soul, guitar in hand, singing 
 sweet songs, wherewith to charm them. In Frankfurt, at the 
 house of the banker Bethmann, he met Augusta Busmann, an 
 extravagant girl, who concealed a cold and empty heart and a 
 frivolous mind under the veil of phantastic, fiery enthusiasm. 
 She fell desperately in love with the black curls of the poet, and 
 succeeded in entangling him in a romantic intrigue. In cloud 
 and darkness she fled with him from the house of Bethmann to 
 Cassel. Brentano was, in spite of his vagaries, a man of honour, 
 and he married Augusta there ; " but even before the marriage," 
 writes one of his friends, "he was convinced that the uuintellectual 
 bride would not make him happy — however, he felt it his duty to 
 complete the transaction. Even on the way to church ideas of 
 flight filled his head, and he turned back with the purpose of 
 escape, but his sense of what was due to her made him abandon 
 the attempt as soon as initiated. He stepped back into the carriage 
 and his obligations. Wonderful things are told us of the wedded 
 life of this young couple. A few days after the marriage she flung 
 the wedding-ring out of the window, and this wounded deeply the 
 sentimental geniality of Brentano's heart. Not less was he vexed 
 when his wife capered down the street with a plume of ostrich 
 feathers on her head and a scarlet flapping horsecloth thrown over 
 her shoulders." 
 
 Stramberg says, in his " Antiquarius," " Of all the torments 
 which Brentano had to endure, that which most aggravated him 
 was the skill with which she could and would drum with her feet 
 on the foot of the bed whilst playing a pizzicato with her nails 
 on the sheets; this drove Brentano so wild, in his high-strung, 
 
 M 
 
IC2 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 nervous condition, that before the year was out he ran away and 
 obtained a divorce." For some years he wandered over Germany, 
 restless, consumed with the power of his poetic soul, seeking peace 
 and finding none. The years of youth and self-delusion were over. 
 An insuperable contempt for the hollovvness and inflated falseness 
 of the social life of the intellectual circle in which he moved and 
 was admired weighed down his soul. The night of a solitary old 
 age threatened. He had tasted what life offers as pleasure, and it 
 had left bitterness on his tongue. He seemed to be, in his own 
 words — 
 
 A wand'ring shadow only, a poor player, 
 Who storms and paces for his petty hour, 
 Then drops hack into nothing — but a ballad 
 Sung by a tramp — all clamour, rage, 
 But meaning nothing. 
 
 Brentano was in this condition of mind when he met Louise 
 Hensel, who transformed his whole life. 
 
 "In September 1816," says a contemporary, "one Thursday 
 evening, Clemens Brentano came into a social reunion in Berlin, in 
 a house where the noblest in rank and genius of the land were 
 wont to gather. A- first there were few persons present ; the son 
 of the house and an old friend were engaged in telling a young 
 girl that the distinguished, gifted Clemens Brentano was coming, 
 and would read them something. His wit, his sarcasms, etc., were 
 spoken of, and as the word ' gifted ' was used very often in 
 describing him, the young lady, who had been listening with 
 the deepest interest, exclaimed : ' If he be gifted only, and have 
 nothing beside, he may be a man much to be pitied and most 
 miserable.' At that moment the poet was at her side, and said, 
 gloimilv. ' Go »d evening?' The company were startled. The 
 folding-doors into the adjoining room had been left open, and the 
 floors were carpeted, and lamps turned down. Nobody knew 
 when he had entered, and how much of what had been said had 
 come to his ears. Some feared his wit would repay their remarks 
 with biting sarcasm. Only she who had last spoken seemed 
 undisturbed, thinking that her observation might have been taken 
 as one of general application. She received his salutation without 
 embarrassment, and offered him a seat at her side on the sofa. He 
 looked fixedly and gloomily into her face, and said: 'My God! 
 
Women. 163 
 
 how like you are to niy sister Sophie, whom I have lost ! ' 'I 
 am glad I am like your sister, and glad also that we .shall hear you 
 read. Pray begin.' He read something from his ' Victoria ' and 
 from the ' Founding of Prag,' was unusually cheerful, and 
 charmed all the company, and he was made to promise to be at 
 the receptions every Thursday." 
 
 That evening opened a new chapter in Brentano's life. In a 
 long letter he poured out into the bosom of this girl the confession 
 of his misery, of his ruined life. " ' In vain ' is the legend written 
 over my whole career, inscribed in fire on my heart and stamped 
 on my brain. All my acts, my thoughts, my scheming, my 
 sufferings, have been in vain. When I was — if not better — at 
 least more innocent, I sought a being like you, to whom I could 
 devote myself, one who might lead me, inspire me. I associated 
 with the ablest men, but they followed their own pursuits; they 
 went their own way and left me standing alone, with the saluta- 
 tion, ' God helps those who help themselves ?' " 
 
 An answer canie to this strange epistle, one quite other 
 than he had expected. " What can it profit you to tell all this 
 to a young girl? You are a Catholic. Seek comfort in your 
 religion." 
 
 This was a word of advice the brother of Bettina, the associate 
 of the most brilliant intellects of Jena and Berlin, had never heard 
 before. He had made many confessions of his misery and of the 
 desolation and despair of his soul, and these confessions had always 
 been introductions to interesting discussions, poetic exchange of 
 letters, metaphysical disputes, sometimes to quick-blazing friend- 
 ships ; but the end of all was nothing. He was left, as before, in 
 the mire. Now he was told plainly, by a woman's lips, that all 
 his gilts were nothing without a something else ; that genius, poetic 
 exaltation, did not lift into peace of mind, and that without God 
 the most gifted man might find his life a hell. 
 
 The advice of Louise was too new for him to adopt it all at 
 once. He had been baptized a Catholic in infancy, and there his 
 relations with the Church and Christianity had ended. He had 
 never been brought under their influence, never dreamed of looking 
 to them for consolation. And now the spoiled, flattered poet was 
 not the man to yield without a struggle. A passion such as he 
 had never known before possessed his heart, and broke out into 
 
164* Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 those exquisite hymns of pure love, " An Louisen," which are 
 immortal. His suit for the hand of Louise was in vain. The 
 young friend would help him to a new life, but not be associated 
 with his passion. Months passed in desperate battle with his 
 heart ; and then he sang : — 
 
 Schweig, Herz ! kein Schrei ! 
 
 Demi Alles geht voibei, 
 
 Dock (lass ich au/erstand 
 
 Und wie ein Irrstem ewig sie umrunde 
 
 Ein Geist, den sie gebannt, 
 
 Das hat Bestand. 
 
 Then he took her advice, and a peace, " such as passeth man's 
 understanding," came over the stormy soul. The rest of his life 
 was one of happiness — at all events, of rest. If he was foolish 
 enough to chronicle the hysterical twaddle of an Anna Katharina 
 . Emmerich, the fault lies in a judgment never naturally strong and 
 av holly uncultivated. It is pleasant to see, after the period of 
 false sentiment, a woman resuming her proper position, as man's 
 comforter and revealer of God. 
 
 Let us look at another instance, at the influence of Sophie 
 Schwab on Lenau — that strange, crazy genius, full of force and 
 pathos, but With a mind unhinged, that foamed itself away at last 
 in a mad-house. Sophie Schwab, 1 with gentle solicitude, kept her 
 cool hand on his fevered brow. How beautiful is one of her letters 
 to him. " Auersperg is indeed a poet, but not like you ; in spite 
 of his talents, he does not come near you. I should never have 
 thought of applying to him what I saw the other day on the 
 Danube, and which painfully reminded me of you. A poor Croat, 
 a pilgrim, was in his little boat on the river. He stood in his 
 vessel in poverty-stricken, sackcloth blouse, sculling purposeless 
 here and there, his gloomy, heavy eyes resting on the flood, regard- 
 less of the people on the banks who watched his wondrous course. 
 His hat he must have cast aside — he stood bare-headed in the sun. 
 
 1 Sophie, the wife of Lcnau's friend Gustave Schwab. Schurz, in his in- 
 teresting Life of his brother-in-law, expresses the doubt whether any poet 
 exercised a greater power over women of genius than Lenau. Schurz gives 
 many letters by the poet to Sophie, but not many of hers to him. Sophie's 
 father's country-house was at Penzing, near Vienna. See Schurz: Lenau's 
 Leben. Stuttgart, 1855. 
 
Women. 165 
 
 He had no clothes, no bread, no bottle in his canoe — only one great 
 green wreath, which he had slung on his pilgrim's staff planted in 
 the forepart of the vessel, like an ensign. Was not that the 
 p'cture of a true poet ? Your portrait, dear Niembsch. 1 Have you 
 rot been swayed about thus in life, in a light boat, on the wild 
 dark stream, with eyes fixed on no shore, with hat thrown away, 
 preserving only your poet's wreath in place of every other earthly 
 good ? And when others seek to cover their heads, you have 
 offered your noble, stately head to sun and lightning, snow and 
 storm, surrounded only by the beautiful green, ever-green wreath, 
 which gives no protection. The glossy leaves of the laurel adorn 
 indeed but shelter not — they will not ward off the bluster of these 
 rough days, and therefore you are ill." 
 
 But I must not delay longer to speak of one most remarkable 
 woman, the much admired Eahel. The French Eevolution had 
 broken up the " salon " of old French society, when it had acted 
 such an important, artd in some respects, it must be owned, such a 
 fatal part in giving lifei^ature its pervading tone. But despite all 
 its sins, and its frivolity, it cannot be denied that the pre- 
 Bevolution society in Paris was more brilliaut, more agreeable, 
 than that of the present era. The men were more amiable, for 
 their principal business in life was to please; the women more 
 delightful, for they found themselves the central point of attraction, 
 and all their charms of mind and manners were called forth to 
 preserve that ascendancy. In Germany, the salon, in the sense in 
 which it was understood in France, was scarcely known. But the 
 Eevolution of 1789, which destroyed for ever — at least in their 
 original form — the salons of Paris, gave birth to those on the other 
 side of the Ehine. Eahel's salon was for a long time the central 
 point of the society of Berlin. She was the wife of Varnhagen 
 von Ense. Mundt calls her a " thyrsus-swayer of the thoughts of 
 her time," and it is certain that she exercised an unaccountable 
 witchery over the geniuses of that day. She was wedded to a man 
 fifteen years younger than herself— a man who, if not endowed 
 with talents of the first order, was yet a writer of no mean rank, 
 and this man she inspired to the last moment of her existence with 
 a veneration and devotion rarely paralleled in the history of wedded 
 
 1 Niembsch (Nicholas) von Strehlenau was his real name : Lenau is the 
 latter half of his Hungarian surname. 
 
16G Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 life. Goethe, of whom, it is true, she was an idolater, returned her 
 homage with respect and esteem. Jean Paul declared " she was 
 unique in her way, and her letters from Paris worth a dozen 
 volumes of travels." Humboldt declared of her that " truth was 
 the distinguishing feature of her intellectual and moral being." 
 She possessed in the highest degree womanly instinct for what is 
 right and beautiful. Her mind was richly stored, her powers of 
 description great. But the real source of attraction lay in her mar- 
 vellous power of sympathy. She possessed the rare and invaluable 
 gift of thoroughly identifying herself with those around her, of 
 reading the most secret depths of their hearts, of living in their 
 life, and of participating in the fulness, as. if they were her own, 
 of their joys and sorrows. Slight, frail, and delicate, with an 
 extraordinary nervous sensibility, and an imagination vivid almost 
 to morbidness, she was utterly unable to live without love, or 
 without a friendship which had almovt the warmth of love. Her 
 youth had been twice darkened by blighted, hopes and affections. 
 The first love had been compelled to yield to family considerations. 
 The second, still more fervent, perished from its own excess, for in 
 such natures the most intense happiness is often withered up by its 
 own ardour. It was iu 1802, on recovering from the long illness, 
 the result of this bitter delusion, that Rahel, abjuring love, as she 
 believed for ever, formed the project of assembling a chosen circle, 
 by means of which she might act beneficially on the minds of h< j r 
 countrymen. Her success was greater than she could have 
 anticipated. All the celebrities of the day gathered round her, 
 and her salon became the centre of intellectual culture and 
 activity. 
 
 Quite a different character was the elfish, charming Bettina, 
 the sister of Clemens Brentano, married to Achim von Arnim. 
 Bettina's home, by birth and marriage, was in the Romantic 
 school, and her inner mental organisation is traceable in a marked 
 sense to Novalis. Bettina was everything that was delightful in 
 woman in the springtide of her beauty, buoyancy, and freakishness. 
 Her playful spirit dances in the sunbeams and over the flowers, 
 casting flashes and prismatic colours about her like a humming- 
 bird. She entered into familiar epistolary correspondence with 
 Goethe, and her book, " Goethe's Biiefwechsel mit einem Kinde," 
 an epistolary poem, as it has been often called, is one of the most 
 
 
Women. 167 
 
 fascinating works of German literature, a romance spun out of 
 sume facts. 1 
 
 Bettina was half Puck, half Ariel. Her delicate susceptibility, 
 her marvellous rapport with all nature, with the inexhaustible 
 treasure of her love, and her religious sympathy with everything 
 that can ennoble and hallow mankind, would have made her the 
 greatest poetess of all times, if she had only understood one 
 essential, the mystery of discipline, of restraint, of proportion. 
 With Eahel and Bettina we close this series of sketches of the 
 women who composed part of the literary world of the Transition. 
 With a few bright exceptions, the sketches are not pleasing. 
 Whenever the German woman stepped out of the kitchen, she fell 
 into the sewer. But the fault lay, not in her, but in her preceptors. 
 They exacted of her a life for which she was unsuited. Of all 
 women in creation, the Germans are least able to maintain a 
 healthy activity on moonbeams and the pollen of lilies. It takes 
 three things to fly a kite — the kite, a string, and someone on the 
 earth. One kite will not fly another ; if the attempt be made, 
 both come headlong to the ground. When the man is soaring, the 
 woman must keep her feet on the soil ; and the only safety for the 
 aspiring genius lies in the maintenance of the bond between them, 
 and their occupying relatively opposed positions. 
 
 In the Transition period, the education of woman was one-sided, 
 
 her sentiment and not her mind was drawn out, the very element 
 
 in her composition which demands most restraint. Of moral 
 
 principle there was none. Old things were passed away, and a 
 
 new order had not come in. Those who had surrounded her made 
 
 her inhale nitrous-oxyde, and lauded her as ethereal if she stood 
 
 on her head : 
 
 Auf den Fiissen geht's nieht mehr, 
 Drum gehn wir auf den Kopfen. 
 
 She forgot, or was taught to disbelieve, that she was held down by 
 gravitation. She was outside the reach of that attraction. But 
 the extravagance of this doctrine led to a remedy. We find all 
 through that period men raising a protest, and women living it ; 
 
 1 " She was one of those phantasts to whom everything seems permitted. 
 More elf than woman, yet with flashes of genius which light up whole chapters 
 of nonsense, she defies criticism, and puts every verdict at fault." — G. H. Lewes : 
 Life of Goethe. 
 
168 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 and the voice and example of nature and common sense prevailed. 
 The reaction set in. The ideal of German men now is the good 
 housekeeper. They ask of woman only blue eyes, a bust, and 
 economy ; to be like Orlando's mistress, — 
 
 The fair, the chaste, the unexpreBsive she. 
 
 To be without colour is the highest virtue in the woman and the 
 diamond ; the husband's wedding present to his bride — his Mor- 
 gengabe — is a cookery book. He desires her to remember nothing 
 of her school-learning but her table of aliquot parts. 1 
 
 Eichter wrote amid the devastation wrought by setting the 
 aesthetic ideal before women, " A spiritual, and more important, and 
 more murderous revolution than that in the political world is now 
 beating in the heart of the nation." The men of Germany, 
 whether literary or not, saw this at last, and put a price on the 
 heads of aesthetic women, as Edgar did on the wolves. Eeviewers 
 wrote them down, critics cut them up. As children order lady- 
 birds, ladybirds to fly away home, for their house is on fire and 
 their children will burn, so society in Germany ordered emanci- 
 pated female souls back to the domestic nursery and cuisine. 
 " Women and gouty legs are best at home." The days of Faustrecht 
 returned, but the fist was only used against women who broke loose. 
 A literary woman in society caused as much consternation as a 
 bear in an Alpine village. All the population turned out in arms 
 against the common foe. Nobles by feudal law could only be 
 executed with the sword. Noble female souls may be knocked 
 down or skewered with any weapon, a rolling-pin or a dung-fork. 
 Clever men have no more scruple in tortuiing them with ridicule 
 than cruel boys have in spinning cockchafers. 
 
 A neighbouring naturalist introduced a frog into his garden to 
 keep down slugs. Next day his outdoor servant came to him, hold- 
 ing up the reptile by one leg, the life stoned out of it, and said, 
 with his honest face all smiles, " I fund un on the walks, sir, and I 
 deaded un." No one who has not lived in Germany can realise 
 the exultation, the pride, with which an authoress who has trodden 
 the paths of literature is held up to general scorn, with a " Please, 
 
 1 Heine truly said : " Die deutsche Ehe ist keine wahre Ehe. Der Eheraann 
 hat keine Ehefrau, sondern eine Magd, und lebt sein isoliertes Hagestulzleben 
 im Geiste fort, selbst im Kreis der Familie." — Gedanken und Einfalle. 
 
Women. 169 
 
 sir, I deaded un ! ** Auerbach, in his " Auf der Hohe," has shown 
 the dangers of sestheticism and Platonism, how heads held " in the 
 heights " are likely not to see the pebbles in the path, and bring 
 about a fall and bruises. In the " Dorfgeschichten," the lofty- 
 minded schoolmaster, with highly polished intellect, finds that 
 happiness most pure and cL >udless is to be found only in the love 
 of a very simple heart, and that the freshness of ignorance is water 
 to the tongue of abstract thought. In " Die Frau Professorinn," 
 the moral is the same. The artist, flattered by the beauty and 
 wit of the salons of the " Besidenz," neglects his peasant wife, who 
 talks broad Black-Forest, till brought to his senses, and to a right 
 appreciation of her value, by finding how the prince does homage 
 to her " edeles Herz ; " and by the discovery that the unsophisti- 
 cated woman is the most splendid of the works of nature. 
 
 German writers have conspired to disparage in every way 
 female aspirations after a life outside the walls of her house, and 
 to exalt as her ideal the condition of a tame domestic animal. As 
 housewives in Germany keep fowls in hutches by the kitchen fire, 
 where the warmth is conducive to their fattening and egg-produc- 
 tiveness, so have the husbands enclosed their women, and for 
 much the same objects. They will not endure to allow them the 
 run of their gardens, lest they scratch up the best flowers of their 
 invention and busk on their best raked systems. 
 
 The poets of the Transition had incautiously, like the fisherman 
 in the Arabian tale, taken the leaden seal of Solomon off the jar, 
 and a spirit had risen out of it, that filled the sky and threatened 
 society. By hook or by crook the spirit must be got into the jar 
 again, and pitched once more into the sea to lie there till the day 
 of doom. For the purpose of laying the emancipated spirit of 
 womanhood, writers have, like Tobit, had recourse to not a little 
 gall. But there is no necessity for continuing the smoke when 
 the fire is banished. It was men who inconsiderately had whipped 
 the quiet souls of women into froth and flummery, and all that 
 was needed was to let them stand to settle to their proper levels. 
 
 If it was a mistake to emancipate them a hundred years ago, it 
 is a worse mistake to chain or manacle them now. For the last 
 fifty years, however, men have persistently refused woman a 
 nobler vocation than to haggle over market produce and lard veal 
 like a " fretful porcupine." One door only has been left open to 
 
170 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 her, by which she may escape the kitchen, and that leads upon the 
 stage. There she is allowed to display her talents, for there she 
 is only illustrating the works of men. But even there recognition 
 of her powers has been but grudgingly bestowed. If she has 
 attempted to write dramas, she has had to follow and reflect the 
 passing humours of the people, or see her pieces hissed down. It 
 was this debasing necessity which prevented Birch Pfeiffer from 
 becoming a great dramatist. Public taste refused to be led by a 
 woman, but not to be flattered by her. 
 
 In art she has been allowed to do nothing. Angelica Kauff- 
 mann had to seek customers in England. If she must paint, let 
 her daub Edelweiss and Alpine roses on men's cigar-cases. In 
 music it is not to be expected that woman will ever make herself 
 a name. Music and architecture are the two arts which demand 
 a creative power, and creativeness is a masculine prerogative. 
 'Woman will execute, but man must design. She has ability rather 
 than intellect. She is mentally as physically conceptive, and her 
 function is not to beget. She may shine in painting, for she can 
 copy, and has a keen selective appreciation, but for music and 
 architecture initiation is required, and that woman has not. In 
 no cosmogony is the creative power fabled to be female, for the 
 general observation of mankind has denied to the feminine mind 
 the gift of originativeness. For the same reason she has fancy, 
 but not imagination, which is the initiation of creation, the first 
 " moment " in calling of being out of not-being. Her poetry will, 
 therefore, be a mosaic of impressions, a sympathetic reading of 
 nature, a bright play about things of beauty, never the calling 
 into existence of things that were not. 
 
 But fancy, ability, and artistic aptitude have been mercilessly 
 denied her during the last half century. Science has been (dosed 
 to her as well as art. And in literature she has been allowed but 
 little range — to translate from the English and write nursery tales. 
 If she has ventured timorously into other fields, there has been a 
 springing of rattles, a hooting and whooping, and she has had to 
 fly scared to shelter. There has been a want of generosity in 
 the treatment of clever women. Men have killed as ruthlessly 
 the firstlings of her brain as Pharaoh did the first-born of the 
 Hebrews. On the earliest scent of an authoress, critics have set 
 themselves round the publisher's door like terriers about a rat hole, 
 
Women. 171 
 
 waiting to fall on and worry the poor little production when it 
 appears. 
 
 My naturalist neighbour, already quoted, had a monkey and a 
 parrot sent him from the tropics. The one and the other had had 
 their minds opened since they left their native woods. The 
 monkey in the kitchen had learned how to pluck a fowl, and the 
 parrot in the cockpit, on the voyage, had acquired a breadth and 
 freedom of expression neither suitable for society, nor proper to 
 her sex. 
 
 One day, free from mistrust and anticipations of evil, like 
 Charity impersonified, their master went for a constitutional, 
 leaving his pets together in the study, the one engaged in crack- 
 ing nuts, the other in pluming and praising herself. No sooner 
 was the door closed, than the monkey laid hold of the parrot, 
 placed her between his knees, and regardless of screams and 
 objurgations — plucked her clean. On the return of their master, 
 neither monkey nor parrot was visible. Seeing the perch deserted, 
 he called, " Poll, pretty Poll, where are you, Poll ? " Whereupon, 
 from behind the window-curtain, hopped the wretched bird, as 
 naked as her master's hand, and shrieked in tones of mingled 
 mortification, rage, and pain, " We've had a hell of a time, sir ! 
 a hell of a time ! " 
 
 The story may be applied with perfect justice to authoresses 
 and their critics in Germany. The latter, with the malice or envy 
 of their tribe — for the most merciless critic is ever the most in- 
 competent author — have been inexorable in their treatment of 
 lady writers. They have ruthlessly riven off their every beauty 
 on which they plumed themselves, and have sent them hopping 
 out into the world, more naked than they came into it. Con- 
 sidering the treatment gifted women in Germany have received 
 during the last fifty years, they are justified in exclaiming with 
 the parrot, — " We've had a hell of a time, sir ! a hell of a time ! " 
 But there is a point below which you cannot compress steam. 
 Women have begun to make their voices heard, and to show that 
 their voices are worth listening to. They are insisting that they 
 have a position to fill in the economy of social life above that of 
 household drudges. They will neither be the toys nor the slaves, 
 but the help-mates of man. The man is incomplete without the 
 woman, and the woman without the man. This is the burden of 
 
172 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 the cry of the female writers of the present day. Marlitt shows 
 us, in " Das Gebeiumiss der alten Mamsell," her heroine, Felicitas, 
 condemned to kitchen-work and to study her hymn-book, and 
 pictures the burning passion of the growing mind for knowledge 
 and freedom. In "Die Zweite Frau," we have a cultivated woman 
 in married life asserting her mental power, and thereby conquering 
 the affection of the man, who married her only to be his house- 
 keeper and governess to his child. But a book of far greater 
 power and pathos than any of Marlitt's is " Ein Arzt der Seele," 
 by Frau von Hillern, in which she vindicates the right of woman 
 to be the intellectual associate and complement of man, whilst she 
 rightly repudiates her claim to be his equal. 
 
 The women have, in Germany, a very just cause for complaint. 
 Since the first unsuccessful experiment, the men of Germany have 
 excluded them from their society. In their clubs and taverns they 
 spend their leisure, and pour out the wealth of their ideas among 
 their fellow-men, but never in their homes. The women pass 
 their lonely evenings over their knitting, or together, talking of 
 babies. If the men appear at dinner, it is to eat and not to 
 converse, to gobble their food and haste back to congenial society 
 in the cafe. The wife and daughters are supposed not to look at 
 a newspaper, or have knowledge or interests in anything which 
 occupies the minds of the men. Divorce is the normal condition 
 of married life — the divorce of souls ; nay, rather let me say that 
 external marriage never unites the minds, the minds never get 
 further than bowing acquaintanceship. 
 
 Both sexes suffer from this estrangement. The elimination of 
 women from society has had a deteriorating effect on men's minds 
 and manners. It is this which causes the rudeness of exterior and 
 coarseness of grit in the constitution of German men — a rudeness 
 and a coarseness painfully ever-present to the observation of a 
 foreigner. And it is this also that makes German women so 
 incapable of using the good material which has been heaped up 
 in their minds by education. The schools for girls are so excellent, 
 and the instruction is so thorough, that a servant-maid in Germany 
 is better grounded than most young ladies in England. But 
 though the education given to women is admirable, they can make 
 no use of it. With much less, English ladies can charm, and 
 attach, and influence men : they may have little learning, but 
 
 
Women. 173 
 
 what little they have the}' know how to use; for they are taught 
 how to use it by constant association with the other sex. In 
 Germany, there is no such association, and therefore no such 
 teaching. Knowledge acquired is not assimilated and never 
 utilised. Finding it valueless, it is got rid of as quickly after 
 marriage as may be. Matrimony is like iodine ointment for the 
 absorption of muscle. It acts on woman as a solvent to all that 
 should give vigour to her character. 
 
 There is a dish, much affected in Cornwall, called squab-pie. 
 It is compounded of veal, pork, beef or mutton, potatoes, onions, 
 apples and pilchards, the whole rolled up in strong dough. 
 Nothing more repellent when raw, nor more toothsome when 
 cooked. 
 
 Female education is much like the making of squab-pie. The 
 heads of girls are stuffed with an infinity of ingredients most 
 incongruous, but each excellent in itself. Social intercourse is the 
 great digesting force in life. If girls' heads were submitted to 
 this, the result would be quite perfect. But they are not. The 
 German girl is kept at home till she is married. After the wedding 
 the German husband peeps cautiously into his wife's brain, and 
 finding there only crude junks of solid fact, and tenacious dough of 
 pedantry, withdraws his fingers, wipes them, and declines staying 
 for dinner. 
 
 German men are like English schoolboys, uncouth and boister- 
 ous. It is wonderful what a change a holiday with his mother and 
 sister will produce on the manners of the schoolboy. It is a pity 
 that German men should not submit themselves to be kneaded and 
 rolled into shape and gentility by the tender fingers of their wives 
 and daughters. There can be no sweeter, tenderer refiners in the 
 world than German ladies. They fret out their little lives, because 
 they are denied the right to execute their proper mission. And 
 German men, full of right principle, steady endurance, genius, and 
 power, have in them all the elements of the ideally perfect man. 
 But one thing is lacking. The diamond must be cut, the silver 
 refined. Let them put themselves unreservedly at the feet of their 
 wives and sisters. 
 
 The advantage will be mutual. The woman will be strength- 
 ened whilst the man is being polished. The intellectual culture 
 of the race has developed the mental powers of women as well as 
 
174* Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 of men. The German woman has far more brain power than the 
 English or French woman, infinitely more than the Spaniard and 
 Italian ; and with the admirable education given her, she is calcu- 
 lated to be man's best associate and confidant and help. What, is 
 remarkable is the persistence in Germany to the present day of the 
 two types of Jarnsaxa and Goda, which appear and re-appear all 
 through German history. Almost every one who has any acquaint- 
 ance with German social life must have met with hard-headed, iron- 
 willed, big-boned women, of loud voice, and intense self-assertion, 
 very clever, but also intensely masculine, — army recruits in petti- 
 coats ; but side by side with them are ever to be found women per- 
 fect in their womanliness, the very ideals of what woman should 
 be — sweet, self-contained, tender, humble, with sound common-sense, 
 and the gentlest of hearts. This is the most common type of all, 
 and it is most lovable. The German girl has not the self-con- 
 sciousness of the English damsel, the coquetry of the French, the 
 lusciousness of the Italian, the dignity of the Spaniard — she is not, 
 perhaps, livtdy enough, she is not espiegle enough, not dazzling, 
 but she is maidenly modest, simple, and sweet. A German proverb 
 says of the girls of Fatherland : " Every woman without a ring on 
 the third finger is a witch." The witchery is that of Isabel in 
 " Measure for Measure," and not of Circe. 
 
 Can it be 
 
 That modesty may more betray our sense 
 
 Than woman's lightness ? 
 
 Act ii. sc. 4. 
 
 It is the witchery of a pure heart, great self-diffidence, self-sacrifice. 
 and a rich, ripe mind. 
 
 Ich mag in diesem Hexenheer 
 Mich gar zu gem verlieren. 1 
 
 1 Geothe : Walpurgisnachtstraum. 
 
( 175 ) 
 
 [univeesity: 
 
 ^IIFOl 
 
 tf 
 
 CHAPTEK VII. 
 
 EDUCATION. 
 
 There is no darkness but ignorance. 
 
 Twelfth Night, act iv. sc. 2. 
 
 In 1878, the Canton of Aarau removed every restriction which 
 prevented the free practice of medicine. Before the beginning of 
 the year, the State allowed none to cut and physic who could not 
 show their credentials and prove their qualification. No sooner 
 was this restriction removed, than the Canton was invaded by a 
 legion of quacks. If the death-rate be not raised, it will be sur- 
 prising. 
 
 In England, in (he matter of education, the State leaves the 
 field clear to empirics. She makes no provision that the education 
 of her children shall be sound and wholesome except only among 
 the poor. A good rudimentary education is provided for the 
 lowest class. No provision whatever is made for the upper and 
 middle classes. No doubt the upper class is sufficiently alive to 
 the importance of education, to take care of itself, but this is not 
 the case with the middle class, which is ravaged by a legion of 
 impostors. 
 
 In December, 1864, a Eoyal Commission was issued authorising 
 Lord Taunton, Lord Stanley, Sir Stafford Northcote, and others to 
 inquire into the state of the schools for secondary education. 
 Their province was bounded on the one hand by the scope of the 
 Commission of 1858 for inquiry into the state of the primary 
 schools of the country, and on the other by the scope of the 
 Commission of 1861 for inquiry into the state of the nine great 
 public schools — Eton, Winchester, Westminster, etc. All the 
 
17G Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 schools between these two categories fell um'er the new Com- 
 mission. 
 
 The results fill twenty thick volumes of reports. Over eight 
 hundred schools had to be separately inspected and reported on. 
 The work of the Commissioners was divided into two parts, one of 
 which followed as the consequence of the other. They had first to 
 ascertain the present condition of our middle-class schools, and 
 next to suggest means for their improvement. 
 
 The middle-class schools of England are of three distinct 
 orders — endowed grammar-schools, proprietary schools, and private 
 schools. All these fell under the terms of the Commission, but as 
 the endowed schools formed the only class with which the State 
 supposed it had a right to interfere, it was chiefly these which 
 were examined and reported on. The proprietary and private 
 schools, as the property of individuals, were not interfered with, on 
 the grounds, which I cannot but think altogether mistaken, that 
 the State was not justified in meddling with them. 
 
 There are in England and Wales 782 endowed schools, which 
 in whole or in part devote themselves to the work of secondary 
 education. They educate 36,874 boys. The nine great public 
 schools educate 2,956, and the proprietary schools 12,000. This 
 gives a total of less than 52,000 boys receiving secondary education 
 in the endowed and proprietary schools of this country. As it 
 was calculated in 1865 that there were 255,000 boys of the age 
 and social status to require secondary education, it appears that 
 there are over 200,000 boys left to be educated at private schools, 
 that is, the public and proprietary schools educate less than 20 per 
 cent, of our middle-class youth. 
 
 The condition of these private schools is not such as to make 
 this fact an agreeable one to contemplate. In a set of establish- 
 ments so numerous, and so varied, so entirely free from every kind 
 of organisation and control, there must necessarily be every degree 
 of goodness and badness. The Commissioners reported of such as 
 they inspected that some were indeed " good " or " passable " but 
 that many " were exceedingly bad." In some cases the masters 
 were found to be intelligent and conscientious, in others to be 
 incompetent. Some schools were the flourishing but rotten result 
 of " successful charlatanism." On the whole, the condition of 
 these schools was pronounced to be " lamentably unsatisfactory." 
 
Education. 177 
 
 Among the more expensive sort of private schools there is a 
 minority of good, and a majority of bad ones. The cheaper class 
 of private schools seemed to be almost all bad. Bad premises, 
 unqualified teachers, utter confusion, formed the principal features 
 of most of the pictures of this class of school, painted for us by the 
 official inspectors. Nearly fifteen years have elapsed since this 
 Commission was appointed ; and what has been done to remedy 
 the mischief? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Another genera- 
 tion of our middle class is growing up in schools which are a 
 disgrace to our civilisation, in which they are inadequately taught, 
 their minds not educated, but crammed, their moral character 
 debased. 
 
 In Germany no man may teach unless he has satisfied Govern- 
 ment that he is qualified to instruct ; and no school can be carried 
 on in buildings not adapted to the purpose. In Germany the State 
 supposes that it is responsible to the nation to see that the educa- 
 tion given to all classes be wholesome and solid, and to ward off 
 from it the perils of having its young incompetently, inefficiently, 
 erroneously instructed. Before proceeding to see what the 
 German system is, I wish here to bring before English readers the 
 impression left on the mind of a German who has for some years 
 been a master in our middle schools. I have compared his ex- 
 periences with those of another German, and I find the report of 
 h>th is the same. I may add that the gentleman whom I quote 
 has passed through two German univeisities. 
 
 The ushers for the private schools are provided by scholastic 
 agencies; these furnish masters of all sorts for schools, English as 
 well as foreign. Here at once we strike at the root of one evil in 
 these schools. The agency pockets a sum from the principal and 
 from the usher on a new appointment. It is obvious, therefore, 
 that the oftener a vacancy occurs, the more rapid is the return. 
 
 An usher is engaged at Christmas for 50Z. He pays at once to 
 the agent 21. 10s. If he be dismissed at Easter, and the agent finds 
 him another situation for the same sum, he gets again 21. 10s. If 
 the usher a^rain loses his place, and is recommended for the third 
 term to a similar situation, the agent pockets ll. l^s. from him 
 alone in the twelvemonth. How much he gets from the principal 
 on each appointment I do not know. But each vacancy means two 
 payments. An agent very unscrupulous, and desirous of making 
 
 N 
 
178 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 the most of his opportunities, finds it therefore in his interest to 
 appoint bad men to good situations, and good men to schools where 
 they cannot in self-respect remain. A good man in a good situa- 
 tion will stick there. But a man who is forced to leave every 
 quarter is a goose that lays a golden egg four times in the year. 
 
 I do not assert that the agents act on this principle, hut it is 
 obviously in their interest to do so. If they do not, they rise 
 ku peril >r to the system. 
 
 In Germany, a Government Board appoints on a vacancy 
 occurring in a school. The Board examines the candidates, and 
 nominates the most- worthy or the most suited to the post. Since 
 1810, no teacher may open a school or go as private tutor who has 
 not undergone examination. It is illegal for patrons or principals 
 of schools to nominate any persons who have not proved their 
 efficiency. A foreigner may not teach his native language without 
 having obtained a facultas docendi. In England a host of incom- 
 petent persons pass themselves off as tutors and governesses who in 
 Germany would be rejected by the Board. 
 
 We, in our dread of seeing the liberty of the subject curtailed, 
 and Government interfering with matters social but not political, 
 shrink from interference of this sort. But why should we? We 
 expect the Government to stand between the child and its parents 
 for its protection, when the father and mother brutally ill-treat it; 
 the State will not allow the drunken parent to kick and break its 
 tender bones, but allows him absolute freedom to cripple and dis- 
 tort its mental and moral faculties. We allow the School Board to 
 enter the cottage and force the ignorant parent to send the children 
 to school. The parent maybe sees no profit in learning, but the 
 State knows better, and brushes his objections aside. It has a 
 right to do so. But there we halt. • The middle classes are worse 
 provided for than the classes below. The State makes no provision 
 for their education, or that the educators of them shall not be 
 wretched impostors. 
 
 In Germany every stratum of society is treated with like im- 
 partiality, like justice. The State secures that the son of the day- 
 labourer and the son of the prince shall alike have properly proved 
 and authorised instructors. 
 
 In the Prussian Constitution of 1850 stands the following 
 provision : — 
 
Education. 179 
 
 "Every one is free to impart knowledge, and to found and con- 
 duct establishments for instruction, when he has proved to the 
 satisfaction of the proper State authorities that he has the moral, 
 scientific, and technical qualifications that are requisite. All public 
 and private establishments are under the supervision of authorities 
 named by the State." 
 
 That is to say, the education of the country is taken, like the 
 post-office and the railways, into the hands of the State. The 
 State will guarantee to the country that no man unqualified shall 
 physic their bodies or educate their minds ; it supervises the 
 butchers' shops, that no diseased meat shall be sold, and the schools, 
 that no unwholesome teaching shall be imparted. It is quite a 
 mistake to suppose that Germans regard this as an exercise of a 
 despotic authority on the part of the Government; they are thank- 
 ful for it as a protection. I do not suppose that Londoners resent 
 interference by the authorities with the dilution of milk with fever- 
 infected water, and its adulteration with chalk and horsebrain. It 
 is a nuisance to have to try your milk every morning with a 
 lactometer, and the parent ought to be grateful not to be obliged 
 to dip a lactometer daily in the instruction given to his sons. 
 Germany is divided up into Bezirke — circles, eauh containing from 
 six to twenty or thirty parishes. On entering a village the first 
 object that strikes the traveller's eye is a board, on which is painted, 
 first, the name of the village, second, the name of the Bezirk to 
 which it belongs. The Bezirk, the smallest State division, is con- 
 trolled by a civil officer, called a Landrath. Associated with the 
 Lanrlrath is a school-superintendent. Each parish has one elemen- 
 tary school or more, according to its requirements. 
 
 In order to bring the youth to these schools, education is made 
 compulsory. Every child, male and female, from the age of six 
 to fourteen, is obliged to attend school. Regular attendance at 
 school is enforced, if necessary, by the police. The police-office 
 of every village makes out a list of all children of school age, and 
 hands it in to the local School Board connected with each school, 
 which is then responsible for the children's attendance. The 
 teacher keeps a list of absentees, marking those who are absent 
 without reasonable excuse. This list he passes to the Board, which 
 proceeds to admonish the parent, and if admonition proves in- 
 effective, the parent is fined or sent to jail. In Saxony the number 
 
180 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 of compulsory years is eight, and every day missed during thoee 
 eight years has to be made up afterwards ; and this plan has been 
 found to answer admirably. The usual hours of school are frum 
 eight o'clock till noon, and from two o'clock till four in the after- 
 noon. The education given in these primary schools is of the most 
 elementary condition. The general division of subjects during 
 the week is this : — religion, six hours ; leading and writing, 
 twelve hours ; ciphering, five hours ; and singing, three hours. 
 Nothing can be simpler or more practical ; every incentive to the 
 exhibition of superficial accomplishments is taken away. There 
 are examinations, but they are not converted into opportunities 
 of tormenting and puzzling the children, and stimulating the 
 teachers to pretentiousness and hollowness. Mr. Pattison, in his 
 Report on the Prussian schools in 1861, says of them, " They may 
 aim at little, but the principle is to achieve it. It may look, too, 
 like the cultivation of the imagination, but it is possessed of a 
 practical spirit which permits of no showing off." The instruction 
 is kept down to what is purely elementary, but that is required 
 to be most thorough. The masters for these schools are provided 
 from colleges, Government establishments, where they are trained. 
 The cost of board is very trifling; and as the students do all their 
 own serving except cooking, the whole expense is little more than 
 the cost of their food. The instruction is distributed over three 
 years. At the end of this period, the student is examined ; if he 
 passes he becomes a " Wilder," a wild man, and goes for three 
 years as assistant in a large school, where he may learn the 
 practical application of his knowledge. When this three years' 
 probation is elapsed, the teacher is competent to take a parish 
 school himself. His position is then one of respectability. The 
 pastor, the schoolmaster, and the apothecary are the magnates and 
 authorities of the village. Almost everywhere — I have not met 
 with an exception — the village schoolmaster is a person it is a 
 pleasure and profit to associate with. He is intelligent, well read, 
 and full of interest in political and social questions, and always 
 ready to impart local information on antiquarian and historical 
 subjects, or matters of natural history. 
 
 Now let us pass to the higher schools. Of these there are two 
 types, the classical and the commercial. 
 
 The classical schools are the " Piogymnasium " and the " Gyui 
 
Education. 
 
 181 
 
 nasium," leading directly to the university and to the learned 
 professions. The commercial schools are the " Upper Biirger- 
 Schule " and the " Eeal-Schule " leading to trade. 
 
 The Gymnasium has six classes, not numbered, as ours, from 
 below, but from above : a sixth-form boy is not in Germany at the 
 head, but at the tail of his school. 
 
 It is hardly necessary to describe the " Progymnasium," which 
 is only a preparatory school for the other, and which is modelled 
 on its type. In the Gymnasium the pupils in every class but the 
 lowest get thirty hours' schooling at least in the week, those in 
 the lowest get twenty-eight. There is one half-holiday, which 
 is in the middle of the week. The first, second, and third classes 
 are usually divided into upper first and lower first, and so on. 
 
 The following is the prospectus of houis and studies : — 
 
 Plan of Studies in the Gymnasium. 
 
 
 VI 
 
 V 
 
 IV 
 
 II lb 
 
 Ilia 
 
 lib 
 
 Ha 
 
 lb 
 
 I 
 la j Total! 
 
 1. Religion 
 
 2. Writing . . 
 
 3. Drawing 
 
 4. German 
 
 5. Geography and History 
 
 6. Mathematics 
 
 7. Natural Science . 
 
 8. French . . 
 
 9. Greek .... 
 
 10. Latin .... 
 la. Latin ] T7 , , 
 
 11. 6. English Voluntary 
 \c. Hebrew j^ra hours 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 2 
 
 2 
 2 
 4 
 2 
 
 10 
 
 3 
 3 
 2 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 2 
 3 
 
 10 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 2 
 3 
 3 
 
 2 
 
 6 
 
 10 
 
 2 
 2 
 
 3 
 3 
 2 
 2 
 6 
 10 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 3 
 3 
 2 
 2 
 6 
 10 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 3 
 4 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 6 
 
 10 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 3 
 4 
 1 
 2 
 6 
 10 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 3 
 4 
 2 
 2 
 6 
 8 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 3 
 4 
 2 
 2 
 6 
 8 
 
 20 
 8 
 6 
 18 
 25 
 32 
 14 
 17 
 42 
 86 
 
 Total . 
 
 28 
 
 30 
 
 30 
 
 30 
 
 30 
 
 30 
 
 30 30 J 30 268 
 
 The school hours are in the morning from seven to about eleven 
 in summer, from eight to about twelve in winter ; in the afternoon 
 they are from two to four all the year round. Where there is not 
 in the same town a Real-Schule, pupils at the Gymnasium are 
 allowed to substitute English, or some other subject for Greek. 
 But in the Gymnasium as in the Eeal-Schule, there is no attempt 
 made at special training for a particular profession. This is 
 strictly prohibited. The object of the education is to broaden the 
 mind, and all specialisation, if undertaken before a broad basis 
 
182 
 
 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 be laid permanently, dwarfs the mind. There are colleges and 
 faculties in the universities for special studios, but these must he 
 entered on after a general and solid basis of culture has been laid. 1 
 Of Eeal-Schulen there are several kinds. That with nine 
 classes is the Real-Sckule par excellence. That with six classes is 
 usually called the Upper BUrger-Schule. There are also Real- 
 Gymnasia, where Latin and Greek are taught. In the Real-Schulen 
 Latin is taught, but chiefly in the lower classes. In the first 
 it is given the minimum of time, three hours in the week ; and in 
 this class, and in the second, the time devoted to mathematics and 
 the natural sciences amounts together to eleven hours a week. 
 French has most time allotted to it, and English becomes a part 
 of the curriculum of study. Drawing also assumes an importance 
 not allowed it in the Gymnasium. 
 
 Plan of Studies in the Ilohre Burger-Schule. 
 
 I 
 
 
 VI 
 
 V 
 
 IV 
 
 III 
 
 II 
 
 I 
 
 Total. 
 
 1. Religion 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 12 
 
 2. German Language . . 
 
 
 
 6 
 
 5 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 27 
 
 3. French „ . . 
 
 
 
 7 
 
 7 
 
 6 
 
 i> 
 
 6 
 
 6 
 
 38 
 
 4. English „ . . 
 
 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 14 
 
 5. Geography . . . 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 — 
 
 9 
 
 6. History ..... 
 
 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 8 
 
 7. Mathematics .... 
 
 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 3 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 19 
 
 8. Geometry .... 
 
 
 
 — 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 9 
 
 9. Geometrical Drawing orl 
 Descriptive Geometry) 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 10. Physica and Natural History. 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 4 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 15 
 
 11. Chemistry .... 
 
 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 4 
 
 12. Drawing ..... 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 12 
 
 13. Singing . * . . < 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 12 
 
 14. Athletics. .... 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 12 
 
 15. Writing 
 
 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 9 
 
 Total . . 1 32 
 
 33 
 
 34 
 
 34 
 
 35 
 
 3G 
 
 204 
 
 The first class is divided into Upper (b) and Lower (a). 
 Class 1 consists of boys of from 11 to 12 yeais. The second 
 class is similarly divided, and contains boys .of from 12 to 13. 
 
 The third class, also divided in like manner, comprises boys 
 
 1 The cost of the education in the lowest class in the Gymnasium is forty- 
 four shillings a year; in the higher classes (IV. and V.) fifty-four shillings; 
 in the highest (I., II., Ill) sixty-four shillings. The entrance fee is four 
 shillings. 
 
Education. 183 
 
 from 13 to 14; the fourth class, undivided, is filled with boys of 
 from 14 to 15 ; the fifth class with boys of from 15 to 16; and the 
 sixth class with boys of from 16 to 18. 
 
 The school year begins on September 30. 
 
 The annual cost of education in the Upper Biirger-Schule is, — 
 in the lowest class a guinea ; in the fifth, fourth, and third classes 
 thirty-one shillings; and in the two upper classes forty-tw 
 shillings. There is also an entrance fee of two to three shillings. 1 
 For this price a really first-rate education can be had. The 
 teachers are all thoroughly approved men of learning and abilities. 
 
 English or other foreign boys are- admitted to these German 
 schools as " guests." That is, they attend school for half the day ; 
 they are allowed to attend the class lessons and lectures, — they 
 can, if they like, remain the whole day, but this is hardly advis- 
 able at first. These pupils become gradually accustomed to 
 hearing German, and become familiarised with the words and 
 pronunciation. Later, they are asked questions with the class. 
 This is a most admirable plan, when combined with private 
 lessons at home. But it does not answer to send English boys to 
 a German school, Gymnasium or Beal-Schule, entirely, till they 
 are thoroughly familiar with the language. One thing English 
 boys have to learn, which is to them a difficult acquisition, and 
 that is, — to sit still and give their whole attention to what is 
 before them. If they do not, they are turned out of the school 
 with very little ceremony. 
 
 An English officer writes to me : " My eldest boy went to the 
 Upper Burger- Schule here, at the age of fourteen, when I first 
 came here. He is a quiet attentive lad, who makes use of his 
 wits. I paid for him first forty shillings yearly, and then, when 
 he got into the highest class, fifty-two shillings yearly. Before 
 he was seventeen years of age he had passed into Woolwich, and 
 passed ninth, being first in some subjects ; and I believe he would" 
 have topped the whole lot if he had been up in classics, but at the 
 Biirger-Schule he had not the opportunity of working on at them, 
 and his Latin had been neglected since he left England. I attribute 
 
 1 This is the price for Upper Biirger-Schulen in Baden, at Karlsruhe, Pfortz- 
 heim, Heidelberg, Freiburg. It is much the same everywhere else. The pay- 
 ment is quarterly. If pupils come out of a preparatory school, there is no 
 entrance fee paid. Guests pay a little more. 
 
184 
 
 GerriMny, Present and Past. 
 
 his success entirely to his work at the Biirger-Schule, and the 
 excellence of the education there given." 
 
 The education of girls has been also vigorously taken in hand 
 in Germany, hut is not as thoroughly systematised as that of boys. 
 There are still a vast number of private schools, many most ex- 
 cellent, none thoroughly bad, or they would be put down by 
 Government. In all these the education is moderate in cost. 1 
 sent my children under nine to a school conducted by a lady of 
 rank, and paid for them one shilling each per month. A girl may 
 obtain a thoroughly sound and superior education for seven pounds 
 a year. But, in addition' to the private schools are the public 
 Hohre Tochter-Schulen, conducted under the auspices of the town. 
 In Baden, the Government has drawn up a scheme of education for 
 the upper girls' schools, and this is followed in all the establish- 
 ments provided in the towns by the Council. 
 
 Plan of Studies of the Upper Tuchter-Schule. 
 
 
 X 
 
 IX 
 
 VIII !VII 
 
 I 
 
 VI 
 
 V 
 
 IV 
 
 III 
 
 II 
 
 lb 1 la 
 
 i 
 
 Total 
 
 1. Religion 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 — 
 
 20 
 
 2. German \ 
 Language J 
 
 (9 wint. 
 \7 sum. 
 
 9 
 
 8 
 
 7 
 
 7 
 
 5 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 60 
 5S 
 
 3. Object-lessons 
 
 j 3 wint. 
 (2 sum. 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 8 
 7 
 
 4. Mathematics 
 
 15 wint. 
 \4 sum. 
 
 5 
 
 5 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 — 
 
 34 
 33 
 
 5. Singing 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 — 
 
 13 
 
 6. Writing 
 
 — 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 11 
 
 7. Handwork . 
 
 — 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 — 
 
 18 
 
 8. French 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 6 
 
 6 
 
 5 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 7 
 
 7 
 
 4 
 
 44 
 
 9. Cieographv . 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 11 
 
 10. Natural History . 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 15 
 
 11. Athletics 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 — 
 
 14 
 
 12. Drawing 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 — 
 
 12 
 
 13. History 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 12 
 
 14. English 
 
 — 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 2 
 
 ls 
 
 Total 
 
 20 wint. 
 
 23 
 
 23 
 
 28 
 
 31 
 
 29 
 
 31 
 
 32 
 
 31 
 
 30 12 290 
 
 
 10 sum. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 286 
 
 The school-year begins on May 1. In the three lowest classes 
 the payment is 24s. a year, in the 7th to the 4th is 36s., and in the 
 superior classes 48s. There is also an entrance fee of 2s. 
 
 For a really trifling sum a first-class education for bo} r s and girls 
 may be had in Germany — an education, the like of which for com- 
 
Education. 185 
 
 pleteness is not to be got in England. Many English parents are 
 finding this out, and are migrating to Germany to avail themselves 
 of this great privilege. This, of course, the wealthy can do; but 
 not those who are tied down by their business. They must send 
 their children to inferior English establishments, where for a third- 
 rate education they pay an exorbitant price. A German school- 
 master, who had English boys under him as well as those of his own 
 nation, said to me : " I cannot understand English boys. They play 
 at their work, and they work at their play." This is a true remark. 
 As a general rule they do not take interest in their lessons, and 
 they do take a lively, vigorous, exhausting interest in cricket and 
 foot-ball. German boys have no public games. All their energies 
 are used up in their studies. They take no violent exercise except 
 on the ice in winter. School-work is exhausting, and it takes 
 all their energies out of them. In it they do take an interest. 
 And the reason — or one principal reason — why they do, is because 
 from early childhood it is impressed on them that their whole 
 future depends on it. The Abiturienten-Examen is the day of 
 judgment looming before the children's eyes, and their childish life 
 is a solemn march to that Dies tree. At the close of youth, before 
 entering on manhood, comes the terrible day which irrevocably 
 fixes their fate. Unless they issue from that examination with a 
 testimonial of " ripeness," every learned profession is closed to 
 them, and three years' military drill instead of one is their doom. 
 As the boy goes to school, he passes the barrack-yard or the Platz 
 where the recruits are drilling. He sees them posturing, goose- 
 stepping, tumbling, fencing, marching in mud or snow ; and he 
 thinks " I shall have three years of this unless I work ! " and it 
 acts as a daily stimulus to exertion. 
 
 But this is not all. The German masters have the knack — the 
 art, rather, for it is the result of experience and study — of making 
 their teaching interesting to their pupils. The system is simply 
 this — the development of the reasoning powers in the boy. This is 
 the great aim of German education, to make thinking men ; there is 
 no effoit made to store the mind with a multitude of facts, but there 
 is every effort made to train the mind to build something out of 
 any number of facts tossed capriciously before it — to teach it to 
 analyse, compare, and classify them. 
 
 This is the theory of education of boys. It is not carried out 
 
186 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 as a S}*sfem in the private girls'-schools ; it is probably not as 
 advisable. Accuracy of detail is perhaps more necessary in girls 
 than broad principles. The memory deserves among them cultiva- 
 tion rather than the reason. 
 
 The examination of boys leaving school — the examination which 
 determines whether they shall serve three years or one in the 
 army, whether they shall enter the army, be schoolmasters, pastors, 
 lawyers, physicians, etc. — is held about three weeks before the 
 close of the half-year. The examining body is composed of the 
 director of the gymnasium, and the professors who teach the first 
 class, a representative of the School Cuiatorium, the Government 
 Commissioners, and a member of the Provincial Board. The 
 Abiturient, or leaving boy, must have spent two years in the head 
 form. He is examined in subjects on the same level as the teaching 
 in this form, but he must not be examined in books and authors he 
 has worked at in his class, and special care is taken to avoid 
 " cram " qualifying for passing. He is examined generally in his 
 mother tongue, Latin, Greek, French, mathematics and physics, 
 geography, history, and divinity. Every effort is made to test the 
 intelligence rather than the knowledge of the Abiturient. The 
 paper work lasts a week, and then comes viva voce. Each per- 
 formance is marked insufficient, sufficient, good, or excellent, and no ' 
 other terms and no qualifications of these are allowed. 
 
 It will be seen from what has been said, how studiously the 
 Germans avoid doing that which we, English, by our competitive 
 examinations, labour to do. " So well do the Prussian authorities," 
 says Mr. M. Arnold, " know how insufficient for their object— that 
 of promoting the national culture and filling the professions with 
 fit men — is the bare examination test ; so averse are they to cram ; 
 so clearly do they perceive that what forms a youth, and what he 
 should in all ways be induced to acquire, is the orderly develop- 
 ment of his faculties under good and trained teaching. With this 
 view all the instructions for the examination are drawn up. It is 
 to tempt candidates to no special preparation and effort, but to be 
 such as a scholar of fair ability and proper diligence may at the end 
 of his school course come to with a quiet mind, and without a 
 painful preparatory effort, tending to relaxation and torpor as soon 
 as the eHort is over." 
 
 Admirable as the German system of education is, I cannot but 
 

 Education, 187 
 
 believe that too much mental work is exacted of the boys. The 
 school hours are too long : at least seven hours in the day, and if, 
 as is frequently the case, the pupils take up an extra subject, 
 eight. To this must be added two hours in the evening of 
 preparatory work for the morrow ; this makes nine or ten hours a 
 day at their books. As a natural consequence, they have no will 
 or energy for physical exertion. Dr. Adolf Boginsky, in an article 
 in the "Deutsche Medicin. Wochenschrift " for February 1, 1877, 
 states as undeniable that the present system of educ ition in 
 Germany is producing three serious results. In the first place, 
 children are becoming annually and in greater numbers more 
 short-sighted ; secondly, their physical health deteriorates ; and, 
 thirdly, the propagation of infection i» encouraged. Into the 
 third objection I will not enter, as to some extent inevitable. 
 The other two demand more attention. 
 
 Short-sightedness is unquestionably on the increase, and is 
 already interfering with the efficiency of recruits for the army. 
 Dr. Boginsky attributes it to the use of slates. These get 
 smudged, and the eyes are strained to decipher what is written on 
 them. But this is not the only cause. In 1876 a Breslau 
 physician published some interesting observations on the subject 
 of defective vision. Short-sightedness, and sometimes entire loss 
 of sight, seems to be one of the all but inevitable accompaniments 
 of the dangerous art of reading. The unlettered peasant has 
 almost always good eyes, and out of one hundred Silesian boors 
 only two could be found whose sight was not in perfect condition. 
 These clear-visioned labourers had naturally lived much in the 
 open air; and though it is to be presumed that, in accordance 
 with the law of compulsory education, they must all have been to 
 school, they had somehow succeeded in not learning to read. Out 
 of 10,000 school-children of the age of fourteen, on the other hand, 
 it appeared that no fewer than 1,004 had suffered in sight, and 
 were obliged either to use glasses or to abstain altogether from 
 books ; while of per.-ons above the age of fourteen, whose eyes had 
 been trained to read small and other print, no fewer than 63 per 
 cent, were either short-sighted or in a greater or less degree unable 
 to see. Of school-children under the age of six, o per cent, had 
 already suffered in their eyes ; up to the age of eleven, 1 1 per cent, 
 had been so affected; while the percentage rose to 19 per. cent at 
 
188 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 the age of thirteen; to 26 per cent, at the age of eighteen, and to 
 43 per cent, at that of twenty-one. Very few persons, it seems, 
 are born with defective vision, and the figures above cited show 
 that the injury done to the eyes by poring over " miserable 
 books " is progressive from infancy to mature age. 
 
 A child's eyes, like its vocal organs and its fingers, are naturally 
 capable of a great deal. In the pipe of the child are all the tones 
 of every human language ; and any infant could be educated to 
 pronounce German gutturals, French nasals, or Hottentot lingual 
 clicks. All notes are there in posse, but education restrains, 
 rigidities the organ of voice, and forms it into an instrument for 
 the pronunciation of only a certain class of sounds. Up to fifteen 
 a child can learn to pronounce any language. At that age its 
 power of phonetic modulation is curtailed, and a language may be 
 learned after that period, but never be pronounced properly. A 
 child's fingers are capable of the most varied and rapid movements. 
 If we take advantage of this flexibility and keep it up, it will 
 become a skilful pianist ; neglect it, and the muscles rigidify, and 
 after fifteen it will be useless to teach it to play the piano. A 
 child's eyes are capable of being focussed on objects remote or 
 near. But if the child be taken, and for ten hours in the day be 
 made to focus its eyes on tiny characters six inches off its nose, 
 and this process be prolonged for twelve or fifteen years, then the 
 eye is educated to short-sightedness. It is not given time for 
 exercise in focussing itself on distant objects. A child naturally 
 uses its left hand as readily as its right : we discipline it not to 
 use the left hand. So with the eye. Naturally calculated to see 
 what is distant as well as what is near, by our school exigencies 
 we rob it of its facility to see what is afar, and screw it to a focus 
 six inches beyond the tip of the nose. Curtail the hours of school, 
 or in school use oral teaching instead of books, and rigidly forbid 
 a child a book out of school, and it will not grow up to use 
 spectacles. 
 
 Dr. Boginsky also says that the day's schooling in Germany 
 leaves the boys in the evening prostrate, listless, and without 
 appetite. They are apathetic to everything that encourages 
 physical he ilth, and at night suffer from want of sleep, or toss in 
 their beds, and are afflicted with headaches. This is also true. " To 
 be boy eternal" — the thought of Polyxenes — has little meaning in 
 
Education. 189 
 
 Germany. There Boy is but the diminutive of Man. Responsi- 
 bility falls too soon on the young shoulders, and crushes the 
 elasticity of youth out of childish hearts. 
 
 The school system is such a strain on the vital energies of 
 youths that their physical health would be permanently deterio- 
 rated did not the year of military service come in like the 
 Jubilee, to give the exhaus'ed frame rest and time for recovery by 
 emancipating it for a twelvemonth from the exactions of the 
 brain. 
 
 There is one point — and, I believe, only one — in which our 
 public schools stand unrivalled in the results they achieve. The 
 best class and school-room in them — the only one which produces 
 really excellent results — is the playground. There the jostling 
 together of boys' minds, passions, bodies, disciplines the future 
 man, and there the boy acquires that practical common-sense, that 
 clear preception of the bearings of a case, which distinguishes him 
 from a French or German boy. I have heard the remark made by 
 foreigners experienced in English as well as foreign education, 
 that no boys are like English boys fur facility in forming a healthy 
 judgment. German schools have no playground, German boys no 
 games. They are separated from one another by nine inches on 
 their forms in school, and are wider apart when they leave the 
 school-room. They never obtain a practical knowledge of life. 
 They grow up to live in worlds of their own creation, in ideas 
 and theories which are not brought to the test of practical 
 experience. It is the " faculty " of common sense, which is 
 cultivated with distinguished success in our playgrounds, which 
 redeems the English schools from the sentence of utter badness 
 which they would otherwise deserve. And it is the absence of 
 this " faculty " in the German prospectus which vitiates so much 
 of the excellent teaching imparted. Better give the pupils a good 
 playground, and confine them daily for three hours within its 
 barriers, than seat them for the same time before a black-board to 
 study the theory of Political Economy. 
 
 A century hence, when the English middle classes shall see 
 the injustice done them in being made to pay ninepence in the 
 pound for the education of poor children to supplant in the race of 
 life their own sons incompetently educated, it is to be hoped they 
 will adopt the German system without its blemishes. 
 
190 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 We have endowed schools, but they are under no supervision. 
 They may he good one day and had the next ; they are given their 
 character by the ruling head-master for the time. Perhaps the 
 most striking feature in the present condition of endowed grammar- 
 schools is the entire want of organization among them. Each 
 school is independent of all others, and indeed of everybody and 
 everything save the statutes by which it is governed. There is no 
 subordination of one school to another, no classification, no arrange- 
 ment of work among them. They each give the sort of education 
 that it pleaded the founder three hundred years ago to appoint, or 
 that suits the idiosyncracies of the present master, without any 
 regard to the wants of the present population and the demands of 
 modern culture. They teach Latin and Greek almost exclusively, 
 and teach it in a manner supposed to be best suited to qualify for 
 the universities. Yet the proportion of scholars at grammar- 
 schools who desire to be prepared for the universities is exceed- 
 ingly small. Rich endowments are wasted in providing an 
 education not meeting modern demands. The boys, an immense 
 majority of the whole number, are compelled to begin a course 
 of classical learning that cannot possibly be finished during their 
 school career, and will be of no earthly use to them in their future 
 business, simply because the master wishes it to be said that he has 
 sent a dozen boys to the universities during his mastership. 
 
 "What a vast amount of money is wasted or misused which, 
 if in the hands of the State, might be utilised for education to 
 answer the exigencies of modern times ! It is not, indeed, to be 
 expected that the Government in our island should confiscate these 
 abused endowments, sweep all the receipts into a common educa- 
 tional fund, and grapple with the education of the country in a 
 comprehensive and vigorous manner. Bold measures are not 
 popular in England ; abuses are like cats, they have nine lives. 
 There is now provision made, in a cumbrous and expensive fashion, 
 it is true, for the proper education of the lower classes. The State 
 does secure that their children shall be given a sound elementary 
 education, and by properly certificated teachers. But the same 
 provision should in justice be made for the middle class. Mr. 
 Squeers was not killed by Nicholas Kickleby. There are a legion 
 of Do-the boys' Halls much nearer St. Paul's than Yorkshire, 
 where, if the pupils be not exposed to the physical want endured 
 
Education. 191 
 
 by the Sqneers' scholars, the intellectual starvation is as acute. 
 And education for the upper classes should not be allowed to be as 
 costly as it is at richly endowed colleges like Eton. 
 
 The well-being of a people depends to a great extent on its 
 culture. The culture of a nation should be a matter, therefore, 
 of chief interest to its Government. Good bread is necessary for 
 the body, and good education is not less necessary for the mind. 
 Some years ago Englishmen were forced to feed on home-grown 
 corn, often spoiled. The monopoly of the farmer was broken 
 through in the interest of the consumer ; and bread, wholesome 
 and cheap, was made procurable by all. At present good education 
 is extravagantly costly, and bad education is not cheap. Melted, 
 mouldy dough that would not bake served as bread in bad harvest 
 years before the repeal of the Corn Laws. Alas ! there is a bad 
 educational harvest every year, and thousands (over 200,000 boys) 
 are mentally munching melted mouldy dough of knowledge every 
 year. 
 
 It is high time that this wrong should be recognized as in- 
 tolerable to our humanity, and be redressed, and that all classes 
 alike should be provided by the State with education, cheap, sub- 
 stantial, and nutritious. 
 
 Let us now very shortly survey the Universities, to which the 
 boys destined to follow a learned profession pass when they leave 
 school. 
 
 There are now in Germany twenty-one universities; if we 
 include Braunsberg, a Catholic theological and philosophical estab- 
 lishment, twentv-two. 
 
 As in the German universities there are no colleges — except 
 for those destined for holy orders — the students lodge in the 
 towns; the price of lodgings of course varies gieatly. In Berlin 
 a student can obtain a room for from 25 to 30 marks a month : 
 attendance costs 3 marks ; morning coffee from 6 to 7 marks, 
 50 Pf. ; firing daily from 20 to 30 Pfennige. A student can get 
 room, attendance, breakfast and firing for the winter term (end 
 of October to March 1) for about 210 marks, or 10 guineas; for 
 the summer term (end of April to August 1), for about 150 marks, 
 or 11. 10s. 
 
 A student can dine at any hotel or restaurant for from 15 to 
 30 marks per month. The matriculation fee is 18 marks; but 
 
192 
 
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Education. 193 
 
 for a student from another university 9 marks. On leaving the 
 university he pays 14 marks for his testimonial. 
 
 Of lectures given by the professors, there are two sorts, the 
 '• Publicum " and the " Privatum." To the public lecture all 
 persons are admitted ; and it is either gratis, or an honorarium of 
 sixpence in English money is paid. The Privatum is delivered 
 to the students in one speeial subject, and is more special in its 
 interest. The honorarium paid for these private lectures — four 
 hours per week throughout the term — is from 14 to 20 marks. 
 At Heidelberg, the usual honorarium for one hour per week during 
 term in the legal and philosophical faculties is 3^ marks. At 
 Jena for four hours per week, 12 marks; but a medical course 
 costs from 18 to 21 marks. Attendance at the necessary lectures 
 for a 3 r ear at Kiel comes to about 540 marks, or 211. 
 
 Every professor is supposed to give four to six hours a week 
 of private lectures, and from two to three hours of public lectures. 
 In the medical faculty the lectures are from ten to twelve hours 
 a week; professors of exegesis give six hours. Some professors 
 give also the " Privatissimum," i.e. lecture in private, in their 
 houses, to their pupils. This is nearly always gratis. University 
 professors are most jealous of their comrades making money by 
 their knowledge, and selling their science. Consequently few 
 venture to brave the general feeling and charge for private 
 "coaching." Those who do so, escape condemnation by extracting 
 
 I fees from English and American students, who are regarded as 
 
 I fair game. 
 
 In addition to the professors of the University are the Privat- 
 
 i Docenten. A student who has finished his course may desire to 
 devote himself to university life, and become a member of the 
 teaching body. He accordingly, sends in a book he may have 
 published, or an essay he has written, to the Dean, and with it 
 names three subjects on which he is prepared to lecture. The 
 
 ' Dean, thereupon, appoints a day and hour, and subject, and 
 summons the faculty. The candidate then delivers his lecture 
 before the collected professors, and is questioned by them. If he 
 proves his knowledge of his subject, he is given his venia docendi, 
 after which he may deliver lectures. If he is successful, during 
 two years, in attracting pupils, he is appointed extraordinary pro- 
 fessor, and receives a stipend. He then waits till he receives a 
 
 o 
 
194 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 9 
 
 call as professor to an university. He may not solicit a vacant 
 professorship, he may not take any steps to secure votes; but 
 must await his call as a special providence. Should he write to the 
 Dean, or any of the professors, on a vacancy occurring, he is pretty 
 certain of rejection ; so also if he solicits the recommendation of 
 the Minister of Public Instruction. If by the end of two years 
 the Piivat-Docent has not been able to collect an audience, he is 
 pronounced a failure, and withdraws from the university to adopt 
 professional practice. 
 
 The German universities confer but one degree, that of Doctor. 
 The candidate desirous of obtaining a degree sends in a thesis to 
 the Dean of the Faculty, who submits it to the other members, 
 and if they approve, the candidate is summoned to examination. 
 This used to take place in the house of the Dean ; it does so still 
 in some faculties, and in the smaller universities; and the pro- 
 fessors invited by the Dean put the candidate through his facings, 
 whilst they partook of wine or beer, smoked, and ate breakfast 
 or supper, for which the candidate paid by putting a sum of money 
 into the hand of the Dean's wife. Now in the large universities 
 the examination takes place in the schools, unrelieved by pipes 
 and beer. The result is, that there is some difficulty in collecting 
 the professors for it : the new method ma}' be more formal, but 
 it is less pleasant. Some of the universities — Jena and Giessen 
 were the chief offenders — were wont to give degrees on very easy 
 terms. It was enough to send in a thesis, which may or ma}' not 
 have been written by the candidate. The fee for the degree was 
 what was considered, not the merit of the postulant. Professor 
 Mommsen called the attention of the Prussian Government to 
 university abuses of this kind, and every faculty in the German 
 universities was required to submit its rules to a Government 
 Commission. Such abuses do not now exist. They cannot. 
 Government exacts an examination of every man who passes 
 through the university before he be admitted into one of the 
 learned professions, conducted, not by the university, but by the 
 Government Commissioners. If one who had received his Doctor's 
 diploma from the faculty were to be plucked by the Government 
 examiners, the scandal would attract general observation, and the 
 faculty bring down on itself universal ridicule. 
 
 Students may pass at will from one university to another. A 
 
Education. 195 
 
 friend of mine began his academic career at "Wurzburg, continued 
 it at Heidelburg, and concluded it at Bonn. They may, or may 
 not, attend lectures : nothing is compulsory. But the Government 
 insists on all candidates for the ministry of the Church (Catholic 
 and Protestant alike), and for law and medicine, passing three 
 years in a German university, and at the end of that period under- 
 going examination by Government Commissioners. The university 
 is in Germany, not the testing, but the teaching body. It instructs, 
 Government examines. 
 
 The German universities are almost destitute of colleges. 
 Before the Keformation it was not so. There were many founded 
 f>r the reception of poor scholars. At Tubingen, for instance, 
 Plantsch endowed a little college for eighteen students out of his 
 income, just before the storm burst over the university. Almost 
 all such endowments have been swallowed up by the princes. 
 But in Berlin is the Melanchthonium for divinity students, and 
 the Johanneum, also for candidates for the ministry, where they 
 are lodged fur from three to six marks a month. At Breslau is the 
 Episcopal Seminary for Catholic students, and the Johanneum for 
 candidates for the Protestant ministry. At Leipzig is one college 
 for 280 students, who are lodged and given breakfast and supper 
 free of expense. In Freiburg was a college for those studying for 
 orders, but the town has seized on the building and turned out of 
 it the superior and the students. 
 
 In the German universities the students wear no academical 
 dress, and are not subjected to any oversight. They may go out 
 of their lodgings and come in at any time of the night or day. 
 They may go anywhere without the risk of being caught by 
 proctors. r J hey have neither chapels to keep, nor rations to con- 
 sume. They are absolutely their own masters, and under no sort 
 of supervision and restraint. I do not believe, from my own 
 observation, that they abuse their liberty, and that the restrictions 
 to which j-ouths are subjected in the old English universities have 
 any superior moral advantage. That our college system has other 
 advantages I full}' admit.' In them men of all classes are more 
 thrown into association with one another than in the German 
 university by their collegiate life. In Germany the only bond 
 is that of the Corps, Burschenschaft, or Verbiudung, to which they 
 belong. In the whole course of the term or academical career, 
 
196 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 the members of one club probably never even bear the names of, 
 much less speak to those of another club. Thus, the university 
 career has not as great a civilising influence on the manners as 
 it might. A youth leaves the university as uncouth and un- 
 mannerly as he entered it. In the colleges of Oxford and 
 Cambridge, where men of all classes rub together, the " cad " 
 necessarily sloughs off much of his old rudeness, and acquires 
 unconsciously a refinement of manner foreign to the parental back- 
 shop. And the man of birth finds that among the middle-class 
 fellow-collegians are men of great ability, excellence, and perse- 
 verance, and he contracts maybe with one such a lasting friend- 
 ship, which continues through life, when the one is at the hall 
 and the other in the parsonage. At all events, everything like 
 class prejudice is broken down by the English system, and inten- 
 sified by the German system. 1 
 
 The mingling and friction of men in a college rub down self- 
 conceit, and many a bumptious boy, when he comes to an English 
 university, drops before his freshman's year is out to a sober 
 estimate of himself. The German system, on the other hand, 
 accentuates priggishness. The duelling, which is so prevalent 
 in the German universities, is one consequence of this. Each 
 student comes up with an overweening idea of himself; if he 
 were forced to live with other men, sit with them in hall, and by 
 them at the college lecture, or in the chapel, row in the same boat 
 with them, scout for them at cricket, or speak with them in the 
 same debating-club, he would learn to give and take. But nesting 
 alone in his lodging, associating only with a few, he becomes 
 suspicious of offence, ready to take umbrage at a trifle, and obliged 
 by the regulations of his corps to fight whenever he harbours an 
 impression that he has been treated with disrespect. A curious 
 habit is for each Verbindung to consider it a matter of etiquette to 
 fight a certain number of duels in the year, and all sorts of 
 frivolous reasons are sought to make up the requisite number of 
 duels, without which the club would lose its character. A student 
 is proud of his slashed cheeks and slit nose: the scars prove 
 him a gentleman, i.e. a man apt to take offence. Of the dignity 
 
 1 For a good account of the Burschenscliaften or University Societies of 
 young men, see Mayhew's " German Life and Manners in Saxony," chap, xxi., 
 '• Student Life at Jena." 
 
 
Education. 197 
 
 cf solf-respect, the courtesy of a gentleman, he has less opinion. 
 Swagger, bluster, and bombast are the badges of gentility with 
 him. I asked a friend one day what was the distinguishing 
 feature of the " Adel " in Germany. " The young Aclel," was the 
 answer given me, " are reaily to fling away their lives as dirt, if 
 but rudely nudged, and no apology offered." 
 
 And this is the only conception the burger student has of 
 nobility, and in his striving to be a gentleman, he apes the readi- 
 ness to take offence in the unapproachable class above him in rank, 
 and below him in fortune. Education is not merely the sharpening 
 of the intellect, and the loading of the memory, but it is the polish 
 of the mind also. And the mind is polished by association with 
 women of all classes, and with men above and below in social 
 standing. I have already spoken of the great misfortune to 
 German men, that they mix so little with ladies. Boys do not 
 play with their sisters, young men do not make them their confi- 
 dants and friends. Consequently, they grow up without that 
 reverence for womanhood which is so characteristic of young 
 English gentlemen. It is precisely at the period of adolescence 
 that prejudices are fix'd for life or filed off; and thus it becomes 
 all-important for young men to mix with those of other clas-es 
 in the social scale, that they may know the special merits of each, 
 and learn to esteem each for its merits. This is what our English 
 university system affords, and the German university does not 
 afford. Gentlemanliness is not readiness to take umbrage, but 
 consideration for the feelings of others. And for acquiring this, 
 the German university is no school. 
 
 German university education produces another result, advan- 
 tageous in one respect, the reverse in another, good or bad according 
 to the view taken of education. 
 
 If academic training be designed to focus the mental eye on 
 one portion of the field of science, and on one point in that portion, 
 then the German method is perfect. 
 
 The student's attention is withdrawn from all distracting in- 
 terest, and is concentrated on its special subject, and on the 
 particular subdivision of his subject, which is to be the object 
 of his life's sludy. It has been said, and said with truth, that 
 school-work in Germany makes boys short-sighted. University 
 study makes men mentally short-sighted. They are educated to 
 
108 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 look at nothing but what is immediately under their noses. When 
 I was a boy, it was a favourite trick of mine to mesmerise cocks, 
 by placing them on a black-board, and drawing a line of chalk 
 from the beak to the extreme edge of the board. The fowl then 
 lay entranced for a considerable length of time, gazing with riveted 
 attention at the chalk line. This is precisely the system of the 
 German universities; the students are given each his chalk line, 
 along which alone he may look, and in the absorbed contemplation 
 of which he is to be lost all his life. 
 
 The German method leads to magnificent results, it must be 
 admitted, for those trained under it become masters of their special 
 subjects, unapproachable by those brought up under a more liberal 
 discipline. As long as it is pursued, German men of science and 
 learning will distance all competitors. In natural science, in 
 philosophy, in philology and every other branch of learning they 
 will particularise a twig on the tree of knowledge, one leaflet 
 on the twig, digest it, and then drop off content. When Lord 
 Dufferin went to Iceland, he found there a professor fiom Father- 
 land hunting moths. He was not in pursuit of moths generally — ■ 
 that bubject was too wide — but of one sub-order of moths, and to 
 discover the variations in this sub-order he was ranging round 
 the world. We have an analogous system in one of our uni- 
 versities, — Cambridge. There the student of mathematics has his 
 interests detached from the lilterse humaniores and concentrated on 
 calculations. The wrangler is sent out into society without one 
 point of sympathy with it, into the world of men, to look on them 
 as units in a great sum subject to permutations and combinations, 
 to be contemplated and calculated from a statistical point of view. 
 
 He is dismissed from his university into the crowd of beating 
 hearts and eager interests, labouring with a calculus in his brain. 
 
 Ilerr Lasker, in an article on the German universities in the 
 "Rundschau," complains that the educational system there is 
 productive of one-sidedness, of narrowness, not of breadth. No 
 general view of history, or natural science, or jurisprudence, is set 
 before the students, but they are tied down to one petty point in 
 each, and in the mastery of this, all idea of the relation it bears 
 to other points and truths is lost. "The university," he says, 
 "splinters itself into special schools. Each special subject is 
 broken into minute particulars. The student becomes a scholar, 
 
Education. 199 
 
 and after the legal course is over, he comes to an understanding 
 with the teacher along with his fellow-workers in the same subject 
 to follow a mean programme. He who has not made natural 
 science his special department leaves the university without an 
 idea of the weighty discoveries of natural philosophers. He who 
 has gone through bis course in medicine, gets no general survey 
 of the many blanches of study necessary for his calling: he bas 
 explored but one, and all subjects beyond his professional range 
 are absolutely closed to him. The law-student knows nothing of 
 the structure of the human body ; the surgeon nothing of the 
 elementary groundwork of law and justice; the first principles 
 of social economy > literature, ethnology, history, and all those 
 matters which every educated man ought to know something 
 about, if he is to mix in society, are to a terrible degree strange 
 to those, studying in special departments. The lecture-rooms lie 
 side by side, tbe many schools are under one roof, the professors 
 belong to one senate, the whole society is tied together by statutes 
 and external organisation, but tbe spiritual link is missing; per- 
 sonal avocations insulate, particular studies separate the students ; 
 and the university is nothing more than a congeries of schools for 
 specialists." 
 
 It was precisely because the theological training tended to 
 narrow the minds of candidates for orders, that the Imperial 
 Government has insisted on all theological students qualifying 
 as well in three other subjects, such as literature, history, geo- 
 graphy, mathematics, jurisprudence, natural philosophy, etc. No 
 such requirement is made of candidates for law and medicine, 
 and the} 7 will issue from the university more narrowed than the 
 divinity students by their training. It is a consciousness of this, 
 no doubt, which has made the Government of Germany insist on 
 examining the students of the univer.-ities by commissioners of 
 its own appointment, and on making the training of the Lyceum 
 and Biirgerschule so general and excellent. This preliminary 
 education is, as I have shown, on a broad basis. The contraction 
 of the basis begins at once and abruptly in the university. After 
 striving to stretch little minds to cover acres, they tie them down 
 on a needle-point. But the teaching of the schools ought to be 
 followed up at the university, not set aside. 
 
 A German professor, to whom I was one day speaking on 
 
200 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 various subjects, interrupted me with the exclamation, "You 
 Englishmen puzzle me beyond measure. You know a little of so 
 many tilings, and are so full of interest in every department of 
 literature, science, and art ! Believe me, there must be no uni- 
 versality of knowledge and interest if a man is to be master of a 
 subject." He was right, but then life is much more pleasant to 
 a man who has a nerve everywhere in sympathy with all that 
 surrounds him. It is, I doubt not, the necessity of working for a 
 livelihood which specialises German studies. The majority of 
 men who go to the university go there to learn what will gain 
 them their bread, not to become culsivated members of society. 
 " Bread and-butter students " these are termed, and all professors 
 lament that their necessity should interfere with their general 
 culture. The question seems to me to resolve itself into this — 
 sooner or later a man, if he is to do anything in his profession, 
 must become a specialist, but when is specialisation in his studies 
 to begin? I should say, not till he leaves the university. A 
 liberal education will always tell in the end ; and I do not believe 
 that valuable time is lost in deferring the contraction of the radius 
 of studies till a man is twenty-three. 
 
 
( 201 ) 
 
 CHAPTEK VIII. 
 
 THE ARMY. 
 
 France, hast thou yet more blood to cast away ? 
 Say, shall the current of our right roam on? 
 Whose passage, vex'd with thy impediment, 
 Shall leave his native channel, and o'ei swell 
 With course disturb'd even thy confining shores, 
 Unless thou let his silver water keep 
 A peaceful progress to the ocean. 
 
 King John, act ii. sc. 2. 
 
 "Every German is subjeet to military duty, and cannot perform it 
 by proxy." The Reichsveifassung places this statement at the 
 head of the Articles on military affairs. In it is declared the per- 
 sonal obligation of every man in the country to bear arms for the 
 defence of Fatherland. 1 
 
 This principle of universal military service is no special feature 
 of German organisation, but what is peculiar to Germany is the 
 way in which it is carried out. 
 
 For understanding this, it is necessary to lay down a few plain 
 truths which have been grasped by the Germans and missed by 
 others. And it is to the recognition of these elementary truths, 
 which lie at the root of the German organisation, that the Empire 
 owes the possession of the most magnificent army the world has 
 ever seen and is ever likely to see. Other nations may copy, but 
 they cannot surpass a military system which in its main features 
 is absolutely perfect. 
 
 1 It is, however, broken by Art. 1 of the Kriegsdienst-Gesetz of Nov. 9, 1867, 
 which exempts : — 
 
 1. Members of the reigning houses in the Empire. 
 
 2. „ mediatised princely houses. 
 
 3. Natives of Elsass and Lothringun born before Jan. 1, 1851. 
 
202 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 The object of an army is to execute by physical force the will 
 of the general in command. 
 
 The army is the implement with which this will is executed: 
 therefore, for the carrying out of the object, the greater the physical 
 fi >rce employed, the more certain the general is of attaining his 
 purpose. 
 
 But the physical force of an army is composed of two factors: 
 first, the numerical strength of the force under command ; secondly, 
 the special perfection of each member constituting this force. 
 
 The first factor is raised to its highest power when every avail- 
 able man has been called to arms; the second, when every soldier 
 has received the most complete education required for a military 
 vocation. For this purpose the greatest possible amount of time 
 must be devoted to military education. 
 
 But the State has to consider not merely the efficiency of its 
 army, but also the commercial prosperity of the country. Con- 
 sequently, all men cannot be taken from peaceful avocations for an 
 indefinite leng'h of time. It must cut its coat, bon gre mal gre, 
 according to its cloth. 
 
 It is the interest of the State to have a strong force at its dis- 
 posal, but it is a gre iter interest of the State to have this with the 
 least possible distraction of the energies of the country from agri- 
 culture, commerce, and manufactures. 
 
 Out of the balance of these two interests issues the measure of 
 the strength of the military power of a country. 
 
 If, however, military power be the product of numbers and of 
 military capability, it is clear that two opposed forces may exactly 
 equalise or neutralise each other, when the factors differ. That is, 
 a smaller number of men with greater capacities may equal a 
 greater number with smaller capacities. 
 
 Fiom this consideration arise two military systems. 
 
 One system raises the factor of the strength of the troops to the 
 highest possible term, by drawing all into the army capable of 
 bearing arms, but in consequence is obliged to reduce the second 
 factor to its minimum. This is the Militia system. Its inherent 
 weakness lies in this fact, that when one factor = 0, it may be 
 multiplied to any amount without obtaining a product. 
 
 Another system rests its supreme weight on the military capa- 
 bilities of the men, and their length of service; consequently the 
 
The Army. 203 
 
 number under arms has to bo reduced to a minimum. This is the 
 recruiting system. It also has its inherent defects. If once the 
 small army of picked men be annihilated, there a,re no successive 
 levies of reserves trained to take its place. Great competence is 
 succeeded by utter incompetence. And, again, it is by no means 
 satisfactorily shown that a soldier of twenty years' standing in the 
 ranks is better than one wno has been under training for five years. 
 With the officer it is different. But with the private, I believe, it 
 is not so. If I am not very much mistaken, I think it will be 
 found that a German private retiring into the reserve is in ever}' 
 point as thorough a soldier as an English private of many years' 
 standing ; in several particulars his superior, for the English 
 training is not to be compared with that of the German soldier. 
 As for physical strength and endurance, and moral courage, one is 
 as good a man as the other. How we suffered for want of a reserve 
 in the Crimean war is in all men's memories. We sent out boys, 
 and they died like flies. We are better off now, or we should be 
 nowhere in the military race. 
 
 The German system is an endeavour to hold a medium between 
 the Militia and the recruiting systems. It endeavours to unite the 
 advantages of both, by raising both factors to their highest possible 
 power. 
 
 Every man capable of bearing arms is given a thorough-going 
 military education, so that every able-bodied man in the Empire is 
 capable of responding to the call of the Emperor, and he can send 
 rank after rank, host after host, of disciplined men into the field, 
 till he has exhausted all the manhood in the country. 
 
 To effect this, the conscripts must not be kept longer under 
 colours than is absolutely necessary for their military education, 
 and when this is completed, must be sent back to their peaceful 
 avocations, only to be called up again so often as to ensure their 
 not forgetting what they have learned. By this means the least 
 strain is put on the country, and the greatest military force is ob- 
 tained. But, again, military capacity is the result of two ('actors: 
 mechanical drill, and educated intelligence. It follows, therefore, 
 that without affecting the product, the first factor may be dimin- 
 ished, and the second increased. Consequently, a le.--s amount of 
 drill, that is, only just sufficient to qualify him for his duties, is 
 sufficient for a man of education. In intellectual development and 
 
204 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 general intelligence, the latter makes up what the clown has to 
 work out by means of drill. Let 10 be the total, x the drill, and 
 y education ; then 8a; -f- 2y = 10, and so will 3a; + ly = 10. On this 
 is based the system of Einjahrigers. 1 
 
 From these general observations we may pass to the description 
 of the norms through which the doctrine just laid down is applied. 
 
 The duty to bear arms applies, of couise, only to those capable 
 of doing so, physically and mentally, and to those who are morally 
 qualified to stand in the ranks and fight for Fatherland. 
 
 The conscripts who are unable to serve under arms are sent to 
 workshops, hospitals, or offices attached to a corps. Imprisonment 
 for felony or any serious crime incapacitates a man from serving 
 his country. 
 
 Every German — if not in the navy — belongs to the active army 
 for seven years ; as a rule, from the age of twenty to the beginning 
 of the twenty-eighth year. 2 During the first three years he belongs 
 to the standing army; during the last /bar to the reserve; during 
 the next^e to the Landwehr ; and to the Landsturm till forty-two. 
 
 The entire nautical population is free from military service, but 
 is required for the navy. As nautical population are reckoned all 
 those wdio on entering their twentieth year have served for one year 
 at least either in a German trading or fishing vessel, or have been 
 stokers, or served on steamboats in any capacity. 
 
 The length of service in the navy, reserve, and Seewehr is the 
 same as in the army. 
 
 The armament of the German Empire consists of — ■ 
 
 ). , ( standing, 
 
 under colours < 
 (reserve, 
 the Landwehr. 
 
 („ , (standing, 
 the fleet ° 
 
 (reserve, 
 the Seewehr. 
 
 3. The Landsturm. 
 The standing army and fleet are always on a war footing: they 
 are the schools educating the nation for war. The Land- and See- 
 
 1 To be described presently. 
 
 2 In Westphalia, Schleswig-Holstein, and Hanover, from the 21st to the 29th 
 year. 
 
The Army. 205 
 
 wehr are the feeders of the standing ariny and navy. The Land- 
 i-tiirm only flies to arras when a portion of the realm is threatened 
 with invasion. The standing army in time of peace was limited 
 till 1881 to 401,659 men, a number it might not exceed; the Frei- 
 willigers not included. But in April 18b0, Prince Bismarck carried 
 a Erasure increasing the German army, till March 31, 1888, to 
 18,128 officers and 427,274 men, exclusive of volunteers. Moreover, 
 those who have served their lime are not henceforth to receive their 
 discharge in the autumn, but in the ensuing March, which raises 
 the standing army in winter by about 100,000 men. 1 This number 
 is a maximum. On no day in the year may it exceed this. It is 
 the normal number for which the Reichstag votes supplies. 
 
 The army consists of — 1. Infantry; 2. Cavalry; 3. Field 
 Artillery; 4. Siege Artillery; 5. Pioneers; 6. Train. There are 
 other formations, as schools for under-officers, a railway battalion, 
 telegraph corps, riding institutes, etc. 
 
 For tactical unity, in the infantry the battalion is the unit, in 
 the cavalry the squadron, in the field artillery the battery. 
 
 In the infantry, jagers and sharpshooters, a battalion consists 
 of 1000 men. In the cavalry, a regiment is composed of 750 men. 
 In the siege and field artillery there are 150 men to a company; 
 iu the train a battalion consists of 1000 men, in the pioneers of 
 600 men. 
 
 The infantry consists of 503 battalions, the cavalry of 465 
 squadrons, the field artillery of 340 batteries, the siege artillery 
 of 31 battalions, the pioneers of 19 battalions, the train of 19£ 
 battalions. 
 
 The infantry consists of 523,744 men. 
 
 „ cavalry „ 61,000 „ 
 
 „ artillery „ 94 000 „ 
 
 „ pioneers „ 17 300 „ 
 
 „ train „ 42,632 „ 
 
 For special employment 6,926 „ 
 
 745,602 
 
 To these must be added 17,621 officers — the requisite number is 
 not yet supplied. 
 
 As a rule, three battalions of the infantry, five squadrons of 
 
 1 In the summer of 1880, the exact number of reserve and Landwehr called 
 out was 110,165 men. 
 
206 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 cavalry, and two or three artillery divisions form a regiment. 
 Every two or tlireo regiments form a brigade. Every two or three 
 brigades form a division. Generally two brigades of infantry and 
 one of cavalry form a division. 1 
 
 There is no fixed rule as to the number and distribution of 
 officers ; but usually each company, squadron, and battery, has a. 
 captain, a first lieutenant, two or three second lieutenants, and the 
 " requisite " number of under-officers. 
 
 At the head of every battalion and artillery division is a staff 
 officer; at the head of every regiment a superior staff officer. A 
 brigade is, as a rule, commanded by a major-general, a division by 
 a lieutenant-general, and an army corps by a general. 
 
 Besides the divisional formation of the army, it has also a 
 territorial division. This military division forms the basis of the 
 organisation of the Laudwehr and the supply. The Empire is 
 divided into seventeen army-corps districts, over which the 
 generals in command exercise chief territorial jurisdiction in all 
 military matters. 
 
 The army-corps districts fall into divisional and brigade sub- 
 districts ; the latter again, according to extent and population, into 
 Laudwehr, company, and battalion districts. 
 
 The army articulation corresponds with the territorial division, 
 from which it is recruited and supplied. Thus each army corps, 
 each division, and each infantry brigade, has its own district, from 
 which, as a rule, its men are drawn, and it is completed on mobili- 
 sation. Consequently the young men of a village find themselves 
 together in the drill-ground and in barrack — a provision of the 
 highest moral advantage. The young trooper who misconducts 
 himself does so in the presence of his companions from childhood, 
 and he knows that the report of him will reach his home. On the 
 battle-field he is not among strangers, and if shot, a comrade will 
 bear his last words to his native village, to his mother and his Schatz. 
 
 Over all the land, officers are stationed forming military boards 
 — the Divizion-Commando, the Brigade-Commando, and the Land- 
 wehr-Commando. In time of peace the divisional commander has 
 the oversight in his district, also care for the di-cipline and know- 
 ledge of the whereabouts of the men on furlough. He is charged 
 
 1 Only in the Body-Guard and Royal Saxon Corps are there entire cavalry 
 divisions. 
 
The Army. 207 
 
 with the supervision of the Landwehr, and with all preparations 
 for mobilisation on a moment's notice. 
 
 The Landwehrbezirks-Commando has the following duties : — 
 
 1. The control of those on furlough in that district. 
 
 2. The preparation of all needed for mobilisation, and the 
 formation of the Landwehr battalion. 
 
 3. The cire of the clothing and arming of the Landwehr 
 battalion, and the supply of ammunition. 
 
 4. Provision for recruiting, and for invalids. 
 
 In time of war, the field army is engaged in active operations 
 against the enemy, and the reserve garrisons the fortresses and 
 kesps the lines of communication, and as they are drawn xipon to 
 fill the gaps made by war in the ranks of the field army, their 
 places are supplied from the Landwehr. 
 
 With this outline of the army organisation in his head, the 
 reader will be able to follow me into particulars. Unless he be a 
 military man, he may be disposed to say with Faust, " Ich bin des 
 trocknen Tons nun satt ; " but I hope that the details will prove 
 more interesting than the outline. I would not advise him to 
 omit to follow me, if he would acquire a just idea of that most 
 remarkable creation of the Prussian spirit of organisation and 
 discipline — the German army. It is to Fatherlmd what the 
 Pyramids are to Egypt, Paris to France, and the Metropolitan 
 Railway to England, — a typical creation of the national genius. 
 
 Let us begin with the recruit, and go through the course with 
 him. Every year, in the month of February, a circular is issued 
 by the War Ministry indicating : — 
 
 1. The number of recruits required for each infantry battalion 
 and each cavalry regiment. 
 
 2. The number of assistants and workmen required for each 
 corps. 
 
 3. The days on which each corps is to receive its recruits. 
 
 In every district lists are kept of the men in it and their ages; 
 and every young man of twenty has to present himself before the 
 local Board. There is an excellent little book to be had for a few 
 pence, 1 which puts in a simple form before the recruits their 
 duties and what the law requires of them. Every man is 
 Wehrpflichlig, i.e. bound to serve, yet all are not required to serve. 
 
 1 Wuizer: Kateshismus fiir die deutsclien Militarpflichten. Leipz. 1878. 
 
2t)o Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 The standing army is legally fixed in number, at a percentage of 
 the population. It is not therefore every man who is called to 
 arms. When more recruits present themselves than are required, 
 lot decides which are to enter military service. 
 
 But certain are exempt; such as young men who are the sole 
 support of aged parents, or helpless brothers and sisters ; the only 
 sons of landed proprietors, tradesmen, etc., incapacitated by age or 
 illness from managing their estates or shop. 
 
 A special arrangement is made with those destined for a 
 learned profession, which shall be noticed presently. Deformity, 
 excessive physical infirmity, short sight, a height under l m 60 
 (5ft. 7^in.), etc., incapacitate a man from serving. 
 
 The recruits are allowed to express their wishes as to the sort 
 of service they desire to enter, infantry, cavalry, chasseurs, 
 artillery, etc., and their wishes are considered as far as is possible. 
 When the number has been made up, the commandants of the 
 different regiments determine by lot which are to serve in their 
 respective contingents. There are, however, a few exceptions 
 made to this impartial distribution. Men of and over l'"82 may 
 be sent to the first regiment of the Guards. The chasseur (Jager) 
 and sharpshooter regiments are recruited almost exclusively from 
 the agents of the Government and mediatised princes in the service 
 of the forests. This recruiting is under the special direction of 
 the inspector of the chasseurs and sharpshooters. The chasseurs 
 are no favourites in the German army. It is thought by the 
 officers that all the privates should receive a like training in rifle 
 practice. But the governments favour these regiments, whence 
 they draw their servants for the charge of their forests. The 
 organisation is altogether peculiar: it forms an hereditary class of 
 foresters, who furnish the army with professional sharpshooters, 
 and this corps of rangers in turn supplies the State with men 
 devoted to its interests in the forests. 
 
 The distribution of recruits is made without regard to their 
 social positions. Well-dressed sons of citizens, peasant lads, and 
 even ragged youths jostle each other. But there are not many 
 members of the upper classes found in the crowd ; for these young 
 men, having received a superior education, are allowed to enter 
 the army as volunteers, or are in the military colleges, with the 
 intention of making the army their profession. 
 
The Army. 209 
 
 As the men come to their regiment, they are submitted to 
 medical inspection. Those deemed unfit fur service are sent back 
 to their districts, and the Landwehr officers therein are bound 
 within a stated period to supply their places with fresh recruits. 
 The sifting out and replacing of the unsuitable occupies about a 
 fortnight. A month after the reception of the recruits, a report 
 on the appearance, physical condition, size, etc., of the men is sent" 
 in from all the regiments to the Staff; and their reports are 
 forwarded to the Emperor. 
 
 The commandant of each regiment distributes the recruits in 
 their battalions on the day of their arrival. The tallest men go 
 into the first battalions, the smaller among the fusileers. With us 
 the reverse takes place. They are then subjected to a second 
 medical inspection. The first was solely to ascertain if they were 
 physically sound, the second to ensure that they are not labouring 
 under any contagious disease. Then they are all bathed and clad 
 in uniform. Each man makes up a parcel of his ordinary clothes 
 and sends them home at the end of a month, when it is definitely 
 decided that he remains in the regiment. The rest of the first day 
 is spent in installing the recruits in their chambers. Their money 
 is taken from them, and placed with the commandant, but each 
 man is allowed to keep two thalers, or six shillings. The object 
 is to prevent inexperienced youths being led to squander their 
 little funds at the instigation of older soldiers, naturally disposed 
 to regale themselves at the expense of their new comrades. The 
 recruits are next given out combs, brushes, a looking glass, razors, 
 etc., for which they have to pay a moderate price, or it is deducted 
 from their wage. Then their hair is cut, and they are vaccinated. 
 In the first month they all take the oath to the colours. 
 
 Each company receives annually from forty to fifty recruits. 
 Each dormitory is under the supervision of a non-commissioned 
 officer, appointed to be instructor to the recruits by the com- 
 mandant of the company. The recruits are also generally broken 
 into groups of two or three under an older soldier, who is supposed 
 to act towards them the part of an elder brother. This plan has 
 been found very advantageous for developing feelings of mutual 
 friendship and comradeship; linking together into one all the 
 members of the great military family. A few days after his 
 incorporation iu the regiment, each recruit is required to draw up 
 
 p 
 
210 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 a short biography of himself, as frank and complete as possible. 
 This he submits to his captain, who thereby is made acquainted 
 with the antecedents of his men, and is able to judge of their 
 in'elligence and the degree of their education. Those who cannot 
 write give their account viva voce. But the number of illiterate is 
 very small. 
 
 What has been said of recruiting for the infantry applies 
 equally to the cavalry, with only slight differences, on which we 
 need not tarry. Cavalry and infantry alike have attached to them 
 a body of workmen of two sorts : the one " Oekonomie-IIand- 
 weiker," are not reckoned as in the ranks, and do no military 
 service; the others, among them saddlers, smiths, tailors, shoe- 
 makers, etc., form part of the effective fighting body. 
 
 Besides the men sent from the contingent, the cavalry regiments 
 receive volunteers for one or four years. The first are few on 
 account of the cost; they have to find their own horses, accoutre- 
 ments, keep, etc. The volunteers of four years are, on the 
 contrary, very numerous. In consideration of the extra year for 
 which they volunteer, they are let off two years in the Landwehr. 
 These volunteers are received much more cordially than the 
 recruits from the ordinary contingent ; because the cavalry officers 
 are well aware that three years is not long enough for the training 
 of an effective horse- soldier. Consequently captains do their 
 utmost to draw as many volunteers as they can to their squadrons, 
 and thereby reduce the number of ordinary recruits. From thirty- 
 five to forty-five men annually enter each sqiiadron. For regiments 
 of the Guard, Cuirassiers, and Uhlans, the minimum height is 
 1™ 67 : for the light cavalry, dragoons, and hussars, l m 02. 
 
 In the recruiting of the German army the commandant of the 
 regiment is the axle of the system. He knows the effective force 
 his corps must have on a peace and on a war fouting, and he is 
 bound to be always ready to have under control the number of 
 men required. When necessary he must apply to the Staff of his 
 corps-d 'armee for the number of recruits he requires; he must 
 winnow out the unserviceable men and call for others to replace 
 them, or fill their places with volunteers. This is only possible 
 with recruital which is territorial, by which system each corps 
 has at hand a store from which to draw at will, and which is 
 being incessantly supplied ; so that there is always ready at a 
 
The Army. 211 
 
 moment's notice all the material in men and equipment for 
 completing tlie corps and giving it its full effective force in times 
 of war and peace. 
 
 In most European armies, when the annual period for the 
 commencement of instruction comes round, there appear whole 
 shoals of general orders and directions, often contrail ictorv, 
 minutely regulating the kind and duration of the different 
 exercises, not during the month only, but even by day and hour. 
 Nothing of this soit exists in the German army. To the 
 commandant of the company is left the entire responsibility for 
 the instruction of his men, in what mode and at what hour he 
 sees fit. His initiative has no other limits than the obligation 
 imposed on him of presenting his soldiers ready for inspection to 
 his superior officers at fixed times, and to have them tiained to a 
 certain standard by those times. The commamlant of the battalion 
 has no right to interfere with the instruction of the companies 
 that compose his battalion. All he is at liberty to do is to note 
 to their captains such deficiencies or irregularities as attract his 
 eye. He has no power to alter the course fixed by a commander 
 of a company. Later, he, in his turn, instructs his battalion, and 
 becomes wholly responsible for its instruction ns a tactical unity. 
 All he can exact is, that the companies, when they pass under his 
 hand shall prove thoroughly instructed in all rudimentary branches 
 of drill and discipline. 
 
 A like freedom is accorded to every officer charged with every 
 branch whatsovor of instruction. All German officers, from the 
 lieutenant to the general, are unanimous in regarding this liberty 
 as an essential and indispensable condition of success, not only as 
 concerns the instruction of the troops, but also in all that affects 
 military success. For it produces emulation among the officers of 
 every grade, it draws out their powers and teaches them promptness 
 and observation. Moreover, it is the best possible means of teach- 
 in q: an officer the details of the service. He learns as much as does 
 the soldier whom he is teaching. 
 
 In the whole military hierarchy there is not an office more 
 important than that of commandant of the company, squadron, or 
 battery — that is, as concerns the instruction of the troops. And 
 as a capable officer is put in that post, he is given plenty of elbow- 
 room. Not only does he instruct the men of his squadron, but, by 
 
212 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 the position lie occupies, lie alone is in a position to form among 
 the officers of his company a successor capable of replacing him- 
 self. If this initiative freedom accorded to each strikes a foreign 
 observer, not less does the minutely methodical and progressive 
 system with which the instruction is pursued, not from year's end 
 to year's end only, but in each particular period of the year. 
 Experience has established the rules and formulated the series of 
 exercises appropriate to the exigencies of war, and to the character 
 of the nation and the habits of the country. These are never 
 interfered with. Every one knows his part and fulfils it without 
 hesitation. 
 
 The instruction of a German regiment advances with calmness 
 and regularity, precisely like that in a public school in which 
 with each new year there is an influx of fresh scholars to re- 
 commence the lessons learned by their predecessors, now moved to 
 a higher form. 
 
 The diill, to the very gymnastics, is not left to a non-com- 
 missioned officer alone. The recruits are, indeed, put through 
 their facings, and taught to turn head over heels, and climb a pole, 
 by a " Gefreite " or lance-corporal, but the lieutenant is present 
 throughout the instruction. The position of a sub-lieutenant in 
 the German army is no sinecure. He has a great deal of hard and 
 very wearisome work, and he is kept a great part of the day at it ; 
 he has to cuff and lick the awkward squad into shape, and is him- 
 self the constant butt of reprimands from his superior officers. 
 More of this shortly. 
 
 The year of instruction in the infantry comprehends six 
 periods : — 
 
 1. Preparatory period : — From the end of the grand manoeuvres 
 and the dismissal of the reserve to the arrival of the recruits ; 
 that is, from the second half of September to the beginning of 
 November in the Guards, to the beginning of December in the 
 
 Line. 
 
 2. Feriod of individual instruction of the recruits : — Till the 
 middle of February in the Guards, till the beginning of Maroh in 
 the Line. 
 
 3. Period of inspection, or Spring exercises, to the middle of 
 May. 
 
 4. Period of service in the country, to tne beginning of August. 
 
The Army. 213 
 
 5. Period of autumnal exercises, to the end of August. 
 
 6. Period of grand manoeuvres, to the second half of September. 
 1. Preparatory Period. — The first thing the captain has to do is 
 
 to choose and prepare the instructors to whom the recruits are to 
 be confided, for on this depends almost exclusively the success of 
 the instruction. And as, on account of the shortness of the dura- 
 tion of active service, it is difficult to have a sufficient number of i 
 experienced non-commissioned officers, 1 their preparation absorbs 
 all the care and time of the commandant of the company during 
 this period. In each company one lieutenant, three or four non- 
 commisjdoned officers, and six or nine lance-corporals are detailed 
 for this purpose. 
 
 The captain confides the post of instructor to the lieutenant he 
 considers most apt for this charge. This lieutenant directs the 
 instruction of the recruits under the immediate eye of the captain, 
 who, however, leaves him the utmost latitude, on the same principle 
 that runs through the whole service — the development of the in- 
 dividual powers by according liberty to the utmost extent possible 
 with the maintenance of necessary system and discipline. 
 
 As a rule, the lieutenants set a high and honourable example 
 before their pupils. Each officer-instructor is made entirely re- 
 sponsible for the men confided to him. He has the surveillance 
 over them, and sees that they are not brutalised by older soldiers. 
 He serves as a check upon the non-commissioned officers under him, 
 and prevents them from tyrannising over the recruits. At the 
 same time he stimulates their zeal for the service, and puts a stop 
 to violence and vulgarity on their part. A very sincere attach- 
 ment often grows up between the lieutenant and his men, and the 
 sense of responsibility of setting them a good example has a high 
 moral effect upon him. 
 
 In order to be able to acquit himself of his duty as instructor, 
 the lieutenant is obliged to prepare for it diligently during the 
 "preparatory period." The captain lends him his aid, advises him, 
 but never personally charges himself with his instruction. 
 
 The captain chooses one or two experienced non commissioned 
 officers and gives them as assistants one or two younger soldiers ; by 
 this means experienced instructors are trained for the following year. 
 
 1 I use the term "non-commissioned officers "for those entitled in German 
 " Unter-Officieren," i.e. Feldwebel and Vice-Feldwebel. 
 
2 1 i Germany, Present and Past 
 
 The lieutenants receive every day two hours' theoretical in- 
 struction from the commandant on the principles of manoeuvres, 
 the theory and rules of musketry, on the discipline of the service, 
 the history of the regiment, and the outlines of military legislation. 
 The commandant has also, during this period, to see that all the 
 undress uniforms for the recruits ai'e clean and in good condition, 
 and that the dormitories are fresh whitewashed and furnished with 
 every necessary. 
 
 During this preparatory period also the non-commissioned 
 officers learn to conduct patrols, make little reconnaissances, and 
 practically resolve certain tactical problems. The officers are also 
 then engaged on their tactical studies, under the direction of the 
 commandant of the battalion. 
 
 At the same time the pioneers are instructed in sapping. 
 
 2. Period of Individual Instruction. — The day of the arrival of 
 the recruits is, undoubtedly, the most important in the year to the 
 commandant, who is naturally jealous to maintain the reputation 
 of his company. 
 
 The course of instruction to the recruits lasts from twelve to 
 fourteen weeks. In those weeks the country lout has to be trained 
 to serve in the ranks. In twelve weeks the raw recruit has to learn 
 the regulations of fighting; in scattered order, the handling of his 
 arms, how to shoot, gymnastics, and, in a word, everything that is 
 necessary to enable him to take his place in the ranks, go through 
 his exercises with the company, and do all that is required of a 
 soldier in time of peace. This constitutes "Duty State," as Ger- 
 mans understand it. To attain this result the commandant of the 
 company has to exert all his energies and bring all his experience 
 to bear to elaborate a plan and sequence of drill and study which is 
 to be fullowed. 
 
 Here again occurs a feature peculiar to the German system, and 
 altogether admirable. Extreme attention is paid to explaining to 
 the recruit the reason for every order given. The object is, to 
 educale the man's intelligence, to make of him not a machine only, 
 but an intelligent machine, capable of judging and acting for him- 
 self under extraordinary circumstances. This is precisely what 
 was wanting in the Kussian soldiers in the late war. They were 
 machines, they went where they were ordered, but they had no 
 judgment when individual judgment was wanted. In that the 
 
The Army. 
 
 215 
 
 Turk was his superior. But among the Guards under Skobeleff it 
 was otherwise. They had been taught on the German method, and 
 the results became evident directly they appeared before Plevna. 
 
 I must again repeat, no detailed scheme of instruction is -issued 
 by authority. In all orders extant, the only requirement is that a 
 certiin specified point of training shall be reached : how that is 
 brought about is left entirely free. Full liberty is accorded to 
 the commandant, and his superiors absolutely refrain from any 
 interference, and from all appearance of limiting or touching his 
 independence. 
 
 Consequently there is great variety. In a company of recruits 
 which I observed in 1877-78, the hours of drill were from eight to 
 eleven a.m., and from two to four p.m., and there was one hour's 
 instruction in military subjects in the evening. For the first fort- 
 night or three weeks from the date of joining, the recruit was 
 exercised solely in gymnastics. 
 
 Most captains arrange the course of instruction by weeks, with 
 a programme for each, and leave the details of execution to the 
 lieutenant. The lieutenant in turn makes verbal recommendations 
 to the non-commissioned officers, taking care to allow them also a 
 certain amount of freedom. 
 
 The recruits are under constant surveillance — to such an extent 
 that, during the first six weeks of their service, no young soldier 
 can leave the barrack without being attended by a Gefreite. This 
 is a rule of some importance, especially in largo towns, where inex- 
 perienced country youths might otherwise be easily drawn into 
 conduct incompatible with honour and respect for their uniform. 
 
 The following is a table of a day's employment in the fourth 
 week after a recruit has joined : — 
 
 
 
 morning. 
 
 
 A.M. 
 
 
 
 A.M. 
 
 
 6.0 . 
 
 Rise. 
 
 
 9.0 to 9.30 
 
 Exercise in pointing. 
 
 7.0 . 
 
 Breakfnst. 
 
 
 9.30 „ 11.30 
 
 Manoeuvres. 
 
 7.30 to 8.30 
 
 Theoretical instruction. 
 
 Midday 
 
 Dinner. 
 
 
 
 Afternoon. 
 
 
 P.M. 
 
 
 
 P.M. 
 
 
 2.0 to 3.15 . 
 
 Drill. 
 
 
 6.45 to 7.0 . 
 
 Instruction on calls 
 
 3.15,, 4.0 . 
 
 Gymnastics. 
 
 
 
 (bugle). 
 
 4.0 „ 4.30 . 
 
 Pointing. 
 
 
 7.0 . 
 
 Supper. 
 
 5.30 ,,6.30 . 
 
 Instruction on keeping 
 
 9.0 . 
 
 Bed. 
 
 
 arms clean, 
 
 etc. 
 
 
 
21G Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 Instruction in skirmishing begins the second week, and occupies 
 an hour and a half every day. During the first six weeks the non- 
 commissioned officers exercise their groups in obeying the bugle- 
 calls, which are soundeil by the lieutenant at a distance. After 
 the seventh week, and till the tenth, this exercise is repeated only 
 every other day. In the eleventh week, the lieutenant assembles 
 all tho recruits of the company in one detachment: each of these 
 groups constitutes a plat ion formed in two ranks. The three 
 platoons are ranged one behind the other, and thus a little column 
 is formed, which the lieu'enant exercises as if it were a complete 
 company. The men by this means get an idea of the relations of 
 open order and compact order, and of the movements and formations 
 peculiar to the latter. It is the best possible preparation for the 
 school of field exercise, to which they pass in the thirteenth or 
 fourteenth week after their incorporation. 
 
 After the preliminary instruction in pointing, in the fifth week 
 the recruits are given a little gun (Jdeines Geicehr), which allows of 
 good practice at fifty paces. But the moment when they begin at 
 the butts with their regular weapons is not fixed. Sometimes men 
 are in " Duty State" who have only fired ten rounds,' whilst others 
 may have fired forty. 
 
 In the evenings the men are taught by a tailor how to repair 
 their clothes ; during this instruction, or after it, they are exercised 
 in bugle-calls by the lance-corporal. 
 
 Theoretical instruction is given by the lieutenant once a week 
 during the first four weeks, thrice in the next four, and thrice in 
 the last four. The rule is not absolute, and there is no regulation- 
 book from which the teaching is given. The instruction is oral, 
 and catechetical. 
 
 3. Period of Spring Exercises and Inspection. — The period of 
 individual instruction passed, an inspection of the recruits is made 
 by the commandant of the regiment, after which he passes them 
 into the company school. 
 
 This inspection, which takes place about the end of February, 
 is one of the most important days in the military life, and it 
 usually excites the liveliest interest, not only among the officers 
 of each regiment, but thi'oughout the garrison, so that for some 
 time nothing else is talked about than the results obtained by this 
 or that captain, the merits of this or that plan of instruction, and 
 
The A i my. 217 
 
 the quality of the men about to pass. The inspection takes place 
 with great solemnity. All the highest military officers in the 
 garrison attend in full uniform. The men are presented to the 
 colonel by the lieutenant of the company. The inspection is in 
 two pans. One has to do with the manoeuvres, and takes place 
 on an appointed day. The other, which is an examination into 
 the theoretical knowledge of the recruit, his gymnastic acquire- 
 ments, etc., takes place as suits the convenience of the colonel. 
 The review of the recruits is minute and thorough. They are put- 
 through all the evolutions : the cadence of their marching is taken 
 by the watch. 1 The inspection of fifty recruits occupies two hours. 
 When it is over, the colonel addre>ses a few words of encouragement 
 to the young soldiers, and congratulates them, if they deserve it. 
 
 The inspection over, the recruits cease to form a class apart, 
 they are admitted into the ranks of the company , and take part 
 with the older soldiers in all their duties and drill. It is not that 
 their education is supposed to be terminated, but it is supposed 
 that they have arrived at a point at which the example of older 
 soldiers and contact with them, along with the varied exercises of 
 the Spring period, will complete their military education. 
 
 During the two preceding periods a great strain has been put 
 on the older soldiers. Many have been detailed as instructors, and 
 all the duties of guard have devolved on the rest ; so that every 
 soldier has often to be on guard once in three days. Now the 
 companies are filled, and the turn of each man comes only once in 
 ten or twelve days. The captain has now all his men at his dis- 
 posal for company evolutions. 
 
 He proceeds at once with the reorganisation of his company. 
 The place of each soldier is assigned him according to his height ; 
 and the whole company is divided into three platoons, formed in 
 double rank, each of which constitutes a section commanded by a 
 non-commissioned officer. The lance-corporals, orderlies, etc., are 
 distributed evenly through the sections, and each is given charge 
 of an equal number of new soldiers. 
 
 During this period the service is more varied. The Spring 
 exercises comprehend company and battalion drill, and the evolu- 
 tions of the regiment and brigade. Moreover, target-practice is 
 now seriously undertaken. It is unneces.^ary to say that indi- 
 1 Quick march is 112 to the minute. 
 
218 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 vidual exercises, gymnastics, fencing, etc., are not given up, "but 
 they take a subordinate position. 
 
 Each company is divided into three distinct groups; the first 
 composed of men of superior military aptitude, the last, of men 
 exceptionally clumsy or stupid. The second group is the most 
 numerous. The exercises of each group are calculated to meet 
 its special requirements. The men in the third group have their 
 deficiencies plainly pointed out to them, that they may make efforts 
 to remedy their defects. Every Saturday a transfer is made from 
 one group to another, according to progre s made. But inversely, 
 also, it may happen that a man is degraded into an inferior group, 
 if he shows himself incapable of keeping pace with those with 
 whom he has been associated. No regard is had to time of service, 
 all that is looked to is the qualification of each. 
 
 During the war of 1870-71, the importance of the company as 
 a tactical unity was made clear. Since that date the German 
 captains have redoubled their efforts to give their companies the 
 highest attainable suppleness and cohesion. But in this, again, 
 there is no regulation drill ; each captain is left to follow his own 
 inspiration and experience. Company exercises are generally 
 preceded by military promenades into the country, to accustom 
 the men to long marches, and familiarise them with the principal 
 rules and precautions to be observed on them. They are usually 
 marched in columns by sections, drums and bugles at the head, 
 but not in close rank. On the way the soldiers are given an 
 explanation of the object and utility of such and such regulations, 
 and every occasion is taken to show them what consequences the 
 negle'ct of these precautions would entail. When the march is 
 long, it is interrupted by halts, and the captain orders the men 
 to pile arms, and then gives them instructions on bivouacking. 
 The men on the first maich are fully equipped with bread-pouch, 
 can, and knapsack, the latter empty. After a few marches the 
 saucepan is added, then the great-coat and stew-pan. 
 
 The. company drill takes place on the Exercirplatz, a level space 
 to be found in every garrison town, not within rails, but completely 
 open to all the world, and a favourite lounge of nursery-maids. 
 Now begin the Sehulexerciren, on which German military 
 authorities lay great stress. Their object is to bring bodies of 
 men into the most perfect control by their officers. The men are 
 
The Army. 219 
 
 put through all the regulation forms. But this is by no means 
 all. The captains during the course of the Schulexerciren — the 
 regulation exercises — order at times movements absolutely contraiy 
 to those indicated by the regulation. The advantage of this 
 method is, that the men are kept on the alert, and learn to dis- 
 entangle themselves, and form with admirable rapidity; and they 
 acquire the conviction, that whatever the order given, it must be 
 promptly and precisely obeyed. As soon as all formations are 
 familiar to the men, they are taught to pass from one to the other 
 at a double, and wiihout following any regulation order. The 
 object sought is to obtain the instantaneous and mechanical execu- 
 tion of a movement, at the mere word of command. AIL formations 
 and principles lelative to dispersed order are taught with special 
 care, always on the Exercirplatz, that is to say, without regard to 
 the nature of the ground. It is only when a company is perfectly 
 master of its regulation formations, that it passes to these exercises 
 applied to the actixal condition of the country. 
 
 These exei'cises last from five to six weeks. Not a movement 
 is made without its mechanism and its tactical aim being clearly 
 explained to the private soldier. During this initiatory process, 
 the pi ogress is slow, but when acquired, there follows extreme 
 rapidity of manoeuvring, commands succeeding one another with- 
 out relaxation, executed at a run; regularity, the cadence of the 
 steps, rectification of line, are strictly exacted when the movement 
 is accomplished. Such is the method adopted; and the result is 
 that the company acquires extraordinary suppleness, and the 
 attention of every soldier is kept on the alert. For often the 
 soldiers have no sooner taken three or four steps towards 
 the formation that has been ordered, when a new command is 
 given. 
 
 After the inspection of the companies, battalion drill follows, 
 and occupies from three to four weeks. These exercises take place 
 thrice a week, and occupy about three hours on each occasion. 
 The other three days of the week are devoted to company drill. 
 The men are also practised at judging distances, fencing, and at 
 the targets. When the battalion review is satisfactorily over, 
 regimental evolutions follow during a fortnight, on alternate days. 
 After the regimental exercises, followed by an inspection, come 
 the brigade exercises, occupying about a week. Then the brigades 
 
220 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 are inspected, and by that time, the period of spring exercises has 
 come to an end, and has to make way for field exercises. 
 
 The war of 1870-71 produced such an impression on military 
 officers, that the instruction of the troops has become, if possible, 
 more practical than ever. In all their exercises we have the 
 repetition ot a battle in all its forms. The memorable day of 
 Saint-Privat, especially, and the enormous losses to which the 
 infantry were subjected in traversing that bare plain under a 
 murderous fire, has greatly contributed to determine the direction 
 of the present instruction of the troops. 1 
 
 It is a matter of principle in these manoeuvres never to repeat 
 an order. He who has given one, waits patiently its execution. 
 And if a subordinate hesitates, or makes a mistake, his superior 
 officer is content to point it out to him when the critique takes 
 place at the end of the instruction. It is thought of the utmost 
 importance to allow him the means of correcting himself, of finding 
 out his own mistake and remedying it as best he may, without the 
 intervention of his superior. Again, I must repeat, the end aimed 
 at constantly and unfbiggingly in the German army, is to develop 
 the individual initiative in every officer in every degree, from the 
 general-in-chief to the sub-lieutenant. A German general says on 
 this particular : — 
 
 "Although we have a perfect right at all moments to criticise 
 the proceedings of our inferiors, yet we abstain, on principle, from 
 doing this, even when we hear them express opinions in their 
 critiques contrary to our own. No two men in this world see a 
 thing from the same point of view, and we hold that, before we 
 can judge of a system, it is necessary to wait till we can estimate 
 the results it produces. When the day of inspection by us arrives, 
 then we formulate our requirements and pass our opinion. But, 
 above everything, our object is to develop in our officers initiative 
 and an interest in their profession. And we believe there is m 
 better means of attaining this than by giving them full and entire 
 liberty to follow what course they please, so long as the end be 
 gained. Besides, by listening to their ciiticism, we obtain the 
 precious elements of appreciation of the value of each." 
 
 1 See on these regulation exercises Tallenbach : Die Taktik u. die 
 Amlrildungsmctltude d. Freussincheu Exercirregtements /. die In/anterie. Berlin, 
 1876. 
 
 
The Army. 221 
 
 Young English officers take but a languid interest in their 
 profession. They go through their duties perfunctorily ; but it is 
 a rare exception to find one eager and interested in the science of 
 war. I have quoted in a former chapter the remark made to me 
 by a German schoolmaster: "Your English boys play over their 
 lessons, and work at their play. I rarely get a pupil from your 
 country who takes any interest in his studies." It is much the 
 same in our army. Our young officers do not take up their career 
 as a business, but as a task. It is the reverse in Germany. 
 Everything connected with his profession excites the liveliest 
 interest in the lieutenant. His library is stocked with military 
 books, he devours the last new monograph in military science with 
 more eagerness than the English officer manifests for Ouida's 
 latest novel. The German press teems with books of this sort, 
 and publishers would not undertake them unless they had a large 
 sale. I have counted eighty-five works, exclusive of magazines 
 and papers devoted to military matters, which have been published 
 during the three months, April, May, and June, 1878. Can the 
 English press show a quarter of this number in the whole year ? 
 And here I may add my opinion of the young German officer, as 
 he is a social and moral element in every city. I have the very 
 highest opinion of him for his integrity, honour, devotion to his 
 profession, and to the men put under his charge. I do not believe 
 a more worthy, conscientious set of officers is to be found in any 
 army. That they are not always what we understand in England 
 by gentlemen, is also true: they are drawn from the burger class, 
 and inherit its want of breed. 1 . And if anything could reconcile 
 an Englishman to the idea of universal military service, it would 
 be the conduct of men and officers in a garrison town. The three 
 years' service has a mighty educational effect on the country 
 clown. It sharpens his intelligence, polishes his manner, widens 
 his ideas, teaches him the advantages of organisation, and the 
 necessity for discipline, and he returns to his native village, 
 improved physically, mentally, and often morally as well. 
 
 1 This applies to the infantry and artillery. The cavalry are recruited 
 
 almost exclusively from the gentry. A few of noble blood are to be found in the 
 
 infantry; but very few. In the army, as elsewhere, class distinction intervenes 
 
 i injuriously. When I speak of " gentlemauliness," I do not mean only in manner, 
 
 but in miud. 
 
-22 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 4. Period of Field Exercises. — With summer begin the exorcises 
 applying what has been already learned to the-exigencies of facts, 
 as in real warfare. For this purpose, the .soldiers are taken out 
 into the country, sometimes fur the whole clay, sometimes for 
 twenty-four hours, and even move. They are taught to adapt their 
 movements to the nature of the country, to take on the march 
 all the precautions necessary in time of war, to execute small 
 manoeuvres, attack and defend positions, surmount obstacles, 
 bivouack, also to learn sapping, swimming, and practice at largets. 
 Up to the middle of June these exeicises are cairied out in com- 
 panies, after that in battalions, and then in regiments, and with 
 troops of all arms combined. 
 
 Modern warfare has proved the great importance of these 
 exercises : consequently, the greater part of the summer is placed at 
 the disposal of the commandant of a company for carrying them 
 out. We will take very briefly the regulations governing tliem. 
 
 1. Patrols and Outpost Duty. — Although this branch of service 
 specially belongs to the cavalry, it is, however, made a matter of 
 serious attention in the infantry. Before sending out a company, 
 outposts are exercised near the banacks on the di ill-ground, so 
 that all may see the object sought and the general dispo-ition. 
 The soldiers thus learn at once how the foreposts servo as a 
 protection to themselves, and as spies on the movements of the 
 enemy. And the officers take pains to point this cleaily out to 
 their men, and show them how to regulate their dispo iti<ms by 
 those of the enemy. Wlien these first principles are well giound 
 into them, the company is led into the countiy. 
 
 Gieat care is taken to train soldiers to execute their duties as 
 sentinels and patrols with intelligence and observation. Every 
 soldier has it impressed on him to dis inguish rigorously between 
 what he has seen and what he believes he has seen, between facts 
 and conjectuies — a lesson much harder to learn than many would 
 suppose. Every report contains first statements of what has 
 actually been observed, and then conclusions drawn from them. 
 It is worthy of remark that in all repoits, whether in time of 
 peace or of war, one uniform pattern of memoranda and envelopes 
 is used. Each page bears all the necessary indications, printed by 
 the Imperial Secret Press at Berlin, which issues these memoranda- 
 books and envelopes to all the soldiers. On the envelope, beside 
 
TIte Army. 223 
 
 the address and the hour of despatch and receipt, is marked the 
 pace at which it is to be conveyed to its destination. X' indicates 
 that it may be cairied at foot-pace ; XX, at a trot; and XXX, at 
 a gallop. These marks give the measure of the importance of a 
 despatch. The repurts and addresses are always written in pencil. 
 This uniform method of reporting has this advantage, that every 
 6oldier is perfectly familiar with it, and with the regulation for 
 the transmission of orders and information; moreover, all reports 
 being of an uniform size, are more easily preserved in the journals 
 of the march and the regimental archives. 
 
 After the instructions of the companies, battalion exercises 
 follow, and then those of regiments, each fraction occupying all 
 the space which, according to the conditions of the land, it would 
 have to occupy in the event of actual war. During the^e 
 manoeuvres, which sometimes last a long time, the officers are 
 given independent missions of which they must render an account 
 later. 
 
 2. To familiarise the men with marches and the precautions to 
 be adopted on them, advantage is taken of the journey to the 
 field of exercise. Often two companies, or two battalions, take 
 different routes toward the same spot, and feel one another on 
 their way, or, on the contrary, wateh and harass each other's 
 march. Along the whole way they fire incessant ly on one another, 
 as a soldier discovers himself flying from one poplar to another, or 
 a head appears above a hedge, or out of a ditch, along which a 
 column is creeping under cover. 
 
 3. To these two species of exercises is added instruction on the 
 manner of organising and guarding a bivouac. The men are 
 taught the proper dispositions : the vedettes and other sentinels 
 are placed; the position of the kitchens is determined, and some- 
 times actually erected and used. The men learn to extemporise 
 fireplaces with bricks or stones or clay, and to collect fuel for them, 
 some arrangement having been come to beforehand with the 
 owner of the land. The men not occupied, either seated or 
 standing, are given full explanations of the why and wherefore of 
 everything that is done, and why the spot is chosen. To exer« ise 
 the officers and non-commissioned officers in choosing proper places 
 for bivouacking, the troop is preceded by a patrol commanded by 
 an officer charged with this duty. 
 
'2'1-k Germany, P result and Past. 
 
 4. ^hiring the little manoeuvres the men are taught to 
 surmount difficulties, to jump ditches, and, if too wide to be over- 
 leaped, to bridge them. In traversing a wood, call-words are 
 given out to the several companies, and the men enter the wood 
 and disappear, but are kept together by their cries. 
 
 5. Small mameuvres are made, such as the attack or defence of 
 divers accidents of the country, either with or without an enemy 
 represented. Sometimes part of a company is detailed to keep a 
 group of houses or a hill against the advance. I have seen dummy 
 soldiers in French uniform put previously about on a wooded slope 
 in positions likely to be occupied by an enemy defending it. 
 
 The captain, standing in the middle of his company, points 
 out to his men what has to be done. Such a height has to be 
 stormed, or the enemy dislodged from such a village. He indicates 
 the difficulties and the advantages of the ground ; and shows them 
 the objections which forbid his adopting one mode of attack, and 
 the reasons which induce him to take another. Pie bids the men 
 observe on what point during the attack their attention must be 
 fixed, and how that success depends on such and such things 
 being done. When companies are engaged in sham fight with one 
 another, the commandants of the battalions give their captains 
 small tactical problems which they are required to resolve. 
 
 6. During all these exercises, the men are incessantly called on 
 to observe and take advantage of the accidents of the ground in all 
 pos-dble circumstances, being told both how to do so, and also why 
 to do so. 
 
 7. All through the summer the men are taught swimming: a 
 lesson in the Schwimmbad generally follows some instruction that 
 has not been of an exhausting nature. 
 
 8. The men are not exercised in the corps to manage cannon. 
 But the commandants of battalions detach annually from one to 
 four lance-corporals into the artillery, to learn there the manage- 
 ment of caissons of infantry ammunition. Each battalion by this 
 means obtains a number of men familiar with this branch of the 
 service. 
 
 9. Instruction on spade work becomes annualty more and more 
 important. Since the Kusso-Turkish war it has attracted redoubled 
 attention. In order to have good instructors for the regiments, 
 each details annually one officer and six non-commissioned officers 
 
 
Tice Army. 225 
 
 to the sappers and miners, where they learn the work necessary 
 for the infantry. This is acquired in about forty-eight days, 
 according to this table. 
 
 *Z3 
 
 1. Pre'iminary exercises. The resolution of geometrical problems 
 
 on the surface of the soil. Tracing and measuring lines 
 
 2. The making of fascines, gabions, baskets, &c. 
 
 3. The throwing up of lines of defence, creation of obstacles 
 
 4. Castrametation .... • . . 
 
 5. Military bridges 
 
 6. Destruction of railways and telegraphs .... 
 
 7. Practical application of preceding instructions . . 
 
 PAYS 
 
 2 
 3 
 
 12 
 8 
 
 14 
 3 
 6 
 
 48 
 
 After the end of the grand manoeuvres in each regiment 
 platoons of sappers are formed (Pionierziige). To constitute them 
 eight soldiers are detached from a company, and one officer from a 
 battalion. The union of these twelve platoons forms the regi- 
 mental detachment of pioneers, who are placed under the instruc- 
 tion of those previously detailed for the purpose of learning the 
 work, as already described. The regimental detachment of pioneers, 
 therefore, comprises, including instructors, four officers, six nou- 
 commissioned officers, and ninety-six soldiers. 
 
 The effective force of this detachment may seem small, but it 
 must not be forgotten that, as the regiment renews itself every 
 year for three years, the actual number is not 96, but 288 well- 
 instructed soldiers, capable of teaching the others. Moreover, as 
 one officer and six non-commissioned officers are detailed to learn 
 sapping every year, after a few years almost all the lieutenants, 
 and many of the superior officers, have passed through the sapping 
 school, and the regiment contains a very considerable number 
 of non-commissioned officers perfectly familiar with the use of the 
 spade. 
 
 With regard to target practice, I will note but one significant 
 fact : — all officers, under the commandants of the battalion, are 
 obliged to pass every year through the whole course of exercises 
 with the gun at the target. This obligation extends also to the 
 superior officers, the colonel included, and his practice is recorded 
 on the book of the first company, precisely like that of a private. 
 
 5. The Autumnal Manoeuvres. — Three months before these begin 
 the general charged with the conduct of a division or a brigade is 
 
 Q 
 
22G Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 informed where they are to take place. The area allowed for them 
 is about thirty square miles. He goes there, inspects it, and 
 sketches the outline of some dozen affairs which might come off 
 there, the forcing of a defile, the passage of a river, the storming 
 of a height, &.c. Then he returns and arranges his sketches for 
 carrying out on so many days. When the period of the manoeuvres 
 has arrived, the troops are marched to the scene. It takes them, 
 of course, several days. Then, on the eve of each sham fight, each 
 commander-in-chief receives a written notice of what has to be 
 done by him, and he is left entirely free in his movements till the 
 end of the battle. Each of these affairs is always over by two 
 o'clock in the afternoon. The commanders-in-chief for the morrow 
 are then designated, and they betake themselves with their troops 
 to their respeciive cantonments, and give the orders necessary for 
 the morrow. 
 
 But the important feature of the manoeuvres is the criticism 
 passed on each as soon as it is executed. This is a lesson in 
 applied tactics practically illustiated by what has just taken place. 
 It embraces the twenty- four hours of command of each commander- 
 in-chief, and takes place as follows. 
 
 As soon as the action is judged to be terminated, the general 
 has the " cease fire " called on his bugle, and this is repeated over 
 the field. At this signal, all ihe officers assemble about him, and 
 the commanders in turn give their accounts. If one is uncertain 
 about a detail, as a brush of outposts, the destruction of a bridge, 
 or the depth of a stream at a certain point, he calls on the officer 
 of his camp who assisted at it to supply the requisite information. 
 The head of the other camp then gives his account. After that 
 the general sums up, and passes his opinion on the general result 
 with great moderation and forbearance. He is guided, not only 
 by what he has seen himself, but by information supplied by the 
 umpires. These are staff officers of various grades, distinguished 
 by a white favour. Their united reports allow of all the par- 
 ticulars of the combat being collected in their chronological order. 
 It is their office, during the contest, to stop the fire and the advance 
 of troops when they judge that in actual warfare they would have 
 been placed hors de combat. Their decision is without appeal, and 
 executed immediately. Their reports are communicated privately 
 to the geneial, whilst the officers are on their way to hear his cri- 
 
The Army. 227 
 
 tique. Consequently, they become an instruction to him as well 
 as to those engaged. Each commandant compares what has really 
 taken place with what he believed he saw, and this makes the 
 manoeuvre the more interesting, for each is sure of being able to 
 complete or rectify his views at the end of the day, of ascertaining 
 then what had escaped his eye or intelligence during the action. 
 Without the criticism, the manoeuvres might be mischievous 
 rather than useful, for those who saw wrong might remain unde- 
 ceived and be confirmed in their errors. But the critique sets all 
 to rights. The criticism of the foreposts and of the reconnaissances 
 takes place after that of the engagement. After dinner, the 
 general directing the manoeuvres mounts his horse and betakes 
 himself with his staff to the outposts of the two camps which are 
 to be engaged on the following day. 
 
 6. The Grand Manoeuvres succeed those of the detachment. In 
 them, at least a whole army corps is engaged. They are the 
 crown of all that has preceded of the military instruction of the 
 year. Of these it is quite impossible here to give any particular 
 account. They are rehearsals of great battles. But one feature 
 in them recurs frequently, which is evidently a favourite with 
 Prussian tacticians, and which deserves mention. During the 
 course of the combat, the different groups of forces are occupied 
 on their several tasks. The action appears to be one of a series of 
 detached engagements. Then, suddenly, towards the close of the 
 day, all form for a general attack, and are poured like an avalanche 
 at the foe, with the purpose of crushing or enveloping him. The 
 movement along a league of country is conducted with lightning- 
 like rapidity. Troops out of sight of one another attack at almost 
 the same minute. This is the fruit of frequent exercise. 
 
 I am writing a chapter, and not a book, on the organisation of 
 the German army, and therefore can only note such features as are 
 peculiar to it, and that strike a foreigner. Want of space obliges 
 me to omit much that would be interesting to military men rather 
 than to the general reader. For this reason I must also pass over 
 the special training of the cavalry and of the artillery, that I may 
 describe some other special features of the German system deserv- 
 ing of attention. 
 
 Having spoken of the ordinary private, I will now say some- 
 thing of the volunteer, and the Gefreite, who has been met with in 
 
2*28 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 the course of the preceding pages, and who has probably puzzled 
 the reader. 
 
 Every German subject, as soon as he is seventeen, is recognised 
 as able for military service, and if he likes, may then enter as a 
 vulunteer. The heads of the corps are not, however, bound to 
 accept every man who offers, and a volunteer has sometimes very 
 great difficulty in obtaining admission. This is, perhaps, more the 
 case with the volunteers for three years, who enter at seventeen, 
 than with the others, for an officer does nut like to have a boy of 
 that age in his company, when he is sure to get him later, if he 
 wants. 
 
 There are Freiivilligers (volunteers) of two sorts : — ■ 
 
 1. Those who volunteer for three years, in the cavalry for four 
 years. 
 
 2. Those who volunteer for one year (Einjahriger). 
 
 1. Volunteers of Three Years. — The number admitted into a 
 < ompany in the course of the year may not exceed ten, or forty in 
 the battalion. This restriction applies, however, only to the 
 infantry. In the cavalry, when they volunteer for four years, 
 they are most readily received, and whole regiments are made up 
 of them exclusively. Volunteers of three years are paid and 
 equipped by the state. The only advantage they gain is that 
 they get over their military service earlier than if they waited 
 till called into the ranks, and they need not live in barrack. 
 
 2. The Einjahriger. — Every young man between seventeen and 
 twenty apt for military service, of irreproachable conduct, who has 
 satisfied the Government that he has been highly educated, may 
 enter the army as a volunteer of one year. 
 
 The institution of volunteers for a year has for object the 
 preparation of officers and sub-officers for the reserve, capable of 
 beine' utilised in time of war. 
 
 To become an Eisjahriger, a young man must produce a 
 certificate of having passed, in the first class at the Lyceum or 
 Biirger.schule, an examination conducted by commissioners ap- 
 pointed by the Government. The examination is extremely 
 searching and hard ; consequently only youths of ability can pass 
 it. Moreover, as these young men are destined to become officers 
 of the reserve, the heads of the corps are very particular about 
 admitting only those who they are satisfied will do credit to it, 
 
The Army. 229 
 
 and they pitilessly refuse those who do not satisfy them on their 
 past respectability of conduct. That a certain amount of class 
 favouritism, or prejudice against the appearance of a candidate, 
 influences them, is asserted, and may be true. 
 
 A Freiwilliger, once admitted, is obliged to serve a year either 
 in the ranks or in a military establishment, according to whether 
 he possesses a general or a special education, which may be utilised 
 in the army. Consequently the Freiwilligers may serve either as 
 ordinary soldiers, or as doctors, veterinary surgeons, or chemists. 
 
 Each company can receive annually only four volunteers, except 
 in university towns, where the number of Einjahriger is un- 
 limited. 
 
 The Einjahriger receive no pay, purchase their uniform, hoard 
 and lodge at their own cost, and are not counted among the 
 effective force. Arms and equipment are furnished them by the 
 regiment at a certain annual price, and they are bound to restore 
 them to the depot, at the end of their term, in good condition. 
 An uniform in the line costs 58 mks. 62 pf., or nearly 31., and for 
 the use of their arms they pay 3 mks. 23 pf., or 3s. 3d. A chasseur, 
 however, pays fur his regimentals 31. 18s. Qd., and fur his arms 1/. 
 In the cavalry a volunteer pays 151. for his horse, 6s. fur shoeing, 
 and he keeps him in hay and corn. 
 
 In the train, the price of a horse is 71. 10s. 
 
 The Einjahriger do not live in barrack : they lodge in town ; 
 but have, of course, to attend drill and parade at the regular houi s. 
 They are distinguished from the ordinary privates by a button on 
 the collar, and are usually drilled apart from the rest. 
 
 Six months after entering the service, the Einjahriger are 
 inspected by the commandant of the regiment, not only in their 
 drill, but also on their theoretical knowledge. If they pass the 
 examination well, they are promoted to be " Gefreiten ; " and from 
 that day serve as lance-corporals. At the close of the year, the 
 commandant of the regiment gives each volunteer a certificate 
 indicating the extent of his military knowledge, and the functions 
 he is calculated to fill in the reserve ; that is, whether he is fit to 
 be classed as an officer or as an under-officer. Those to whom this 
 certificate is refused, are relegated to be privates in the reserve. 
 Those who have obtained the certificate of officer in the reserve 
 quit the regiment with the grade of under-officer; but this 
 
230 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 certificate does not give them the right to be named immediately 
 officers in the reserve : to obtain this, they must, in the year 
 following their liberation, serve for two months again. During 
 the first month that they are again under colours, they act as non- 
 commissioned officers ; then, if they are considered to merit it, are 
 advanced to be Vice-Feldwebel. When they have completed their 
 eight weeks, they are dismissed with a certificate stating whether 
 or not they deserve promotion. Furnished with this, the 
 candidates go to the commandant of the district of the Landwehr 
 battalion to which they belong, and he subjects their claim to the 
 vote of the officers of the district. For this purpose there exists a 
 permanent commission (Walilcommission) in every battalion district, 
 composed of the oldest captain and of two lieutenants, and the 
 nomination of each new candidate is put to the vote. Against 
 the decision of the majority there is no appeal. If the vote of 
 the corps of officers is favourable, the candidate is proposed to the 
 Government for the grade of officer of reserve. The object of the 
 election is to enable the reserve and Landwehr to secure as their 
 officers only men whose conduct in their homes offers^ a guarantee 
 that they will not discredit their epaulettes. When named to the 
 Emperor, the new officer of the reserve receives a brevet, informing 
 him whether he is attached to a regiment, or simply to his district 
 of the Landwehr. That this system is productive of good effects, 
 and is of very precious advantage to the army, is a matter of 
 general recognition. Irrespective of the good results produced by 
 the passage through the ranks of all these well-educated and highly 
 instructed young men, the system of Einjahriger has afforded a 
 simple and rational solution to one of the most difficult problems 
 of mobilisation — the recruital of the officers. Nearly all the 
 European armies suffer from want of reliable officers, even in time 
 of peace. Where are the requisite number to be obtained, all at 
 once, for the mobilisation of the active army, and to form the 
 reserve, and Landwehr? The part of an officer in modern warfare 
 has become so important and so difficult, that, in order to perform 
 it properly in time of war, it is indispensable that a special educa- 
 tion for it should have been acquired in time of peace. This 
 question of capital importance long engaged the attention of the 
 Prussian Government, which has resolved it in this really brilliant 
 manner. 
 
The Army. 231 
 
 Not only is the army provided by this means with a reserve 
 of officers who can be employed for the formation of new corps, 
 but each regiment possesses as it were a depot of officers, a well- 
 replenished store belonging specially to it, and with all the 
 personnel of which the regiment is fully acquainted. This is a 
 consideration of extreme importance. The corps, in instructing 
 their Einjahriger, are working for themselves, and are those 
 chiefly interested in using every effort to give these young men 
 the best possible military education, for it will require their aid 
 at the critical moment of mobilisation, and during war. These 
 Einjahriger, so far from being regarded as a privileged set, 
 evading the duties of three years' service, a burden to the corps 
 for which there is not compensation, are highly esteemed, and the 
 labour devoted on them is not regarded as thrown away. Each 
 regiment is always able, in the event of war, to call to its aid the 
 cream of its pupils. Suppose, for instance, that in the course of a 
 year fifty Einjahriger have been admitted. At the end of a 
 twelvemonth, maybe, twenty-five have received a certificate of 
 candidate for the grade of officer of reserve. Let us suppose that 
 of these twenty-five, ten only — the ten best — are designated to be 
 officers in their regiment: it follows that this regiment will send 
 each year into its reserve ten officers belonging to it, specially 
 chosen from among fifty volunteers, and fifteen good officers into 
 the general reserve of the army. At the end of ten years, the 
 regiment will have in its reserve about 80 officers, a super- 
 abundance, out of which to draw to supply the vacancies that may 
 occur, either in its battalions engaged, or in the reserve and 
 Landwehr. But even if a corps should happen not to have 
 sufficient in its special reserve, it can easily supply itself from the 
 general reserve, which is always abundantly filled. 
 
 The French system is not quite the same. With republican 
 love of equality, all of every class have the same measure dealt out 
 to them. The beds of the tramp and nobleman adjoin in the 
 dormitory; they sit side by side at mess, and associate in one 
 common room in hours of relaxation, as they dwell together in the 
 same company on the parade-ground. The French period of 
 military service is five years instead of three. 
 
 Now to a peasant and cotter's son, it is no hardship to live, 
 work, and sleep in a crowd. He has been brought up not to know 
 
232 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 and care for tlio privacy of his own room. It is not so with a 
 member of the upper or middle class. To him privacy is as much 
 a necessity as clean linen and a tooth-brush, not only because his 
 habits are more refined than those of the lower classes, but also 
 because he has, on the expiration of his term of service, to enter a 
 profession, and during service he must keep up his studies qualify- 
 ing him for ir. To do this in the common room of a barrack is 
 impossible. The consequence is that the French system imposes 
 on its superior classes a very galling Hardship. A French gentle- 
 man now undergoing his military course writes: " I would I were 
 a German for one reason ! — to be a volunteer, — and escape the 
 degradation of daily, nightly, hourly association with men, some 
 of whom are the scum of a society not uncorrupt. In this 
 atmosphere, the mind loses its polish and its edge, and callousness 
 invades the heart. The barracks are to the man of culture what 
 les galeres are to the lower orders." * 
 
 The French system has not been working long enough for its 
 results to have declared themselves, but some fruits are already 
 ripening, and two are becoming conspicuous , the man of superior 
 mental, moral, and soeial qualities leaves the barrack at the end 
 of his service deteriorated, and consequently there is growing up 
 among the cultivated classes a disgust and abhorrence for the 
 service in which they were condemned to either one or five years' 
 penal servitude. The effect produced in Germany is in all respects 
 the reverse. A Freiwilliger of three years can escape barrack life 
 except for one month. The object of. the German Government is 
 
 1 A young Frenchman who wishes to avoid conscription may enlist as a one- 
 year volunteer, after paying GO/, to Government and passing an examination 
 with a view to showing that he has received a good school education; should he 
 be unable to do this, he must take his chance at the lottery. If he draws a bad 
 number, he will have to serve five years; if a good one, he gets off with six 
 months, and is then drafted into the active reserve, which renders him amenable 
 to be called out for twenty-eight days' training every two years until he is thirty. 
 After this he is enrolled in the Territorial Army, which can only be ca.led out 
 in case of an invasion. As for the soldier who has served five years, he likewise 
 passes into the active reserve for four years after his discharge, and during that 
 time he may be ordered to rejoin his regiment in case of war. Thus the active 
 reserve will in time comprise men who have served six months or five years; but 
 as the new military law only took effect in 1873, the first supply of five year men 
 has not yet been drafted, and the bulk of the reserves is made up of men who 
 served seven years uuder the old Imperial law. 
 
TJte Army. 233 
 
 not to break down a man's self-respect, but to encouiage it. Ami 
 I believe th*re is scarce a private or volunteer wbo dues not pass 
 into the reserve a better man mentally, morally, and physically 
 than he entered the army, and as a natural result, men look back 
 on their three years with pride and gratitude. 
 
 It is impossible to deny that the rigorous method of instruction 
 followed with the troops has much to do with the excellence of the 
 results attained : it must not, however, be left out of sight that 
 the officers are the soul of this instruction. Whatever may be the 
 level of their general education, one may justly say that they aie 
 all, in their particular lines, specialists, and are full of the liveliest 
 zeal for the service. 
 
 No doubt there are exceptions. But the officer who neglects 
 his duties is closely watched, and if the measures taken to reform 
 him do not succeed, he is remorselessly sacrificed to the general 
 interest, he is dismissed, be his rank what it may. For the good 
 of the service is not in theory only, but in fact, the supreme law, 
 in the eye of which general and lieutenant are equal, and the 
 principle that no man must be allowed to occupy a post for which 
 he is incompetent is superior to every consideration. 
 
 But the vigilance of the superiors is not the only guarantee for 
 efficiency. Equals mutually watch one another, for to all the 
 service is a sacred cause ; the accomplishment of their duty is a 
 question of honour and professional dignity. And this sentiment 
 is so deeply ingrained, at least among the immense majority of 
 German officers, that it overrides all personal considerations. They 
 will not endure association with an incapable comrade, and they 
 force him to resign the service and adopt another profession. 
 
 Thanks to these principles, conducted steadfastly for many 
 years, the most brilliant results have been attained. The pitiless 
 exclusion of all worthless elements on one side, and on the other 
 the importance of the material advantages and honours accorded to 
 the most deserving, have given birth to and maintained the most 
 ardent emulation in the corps of officers in the German army. 
 And this struggle for existence, this moral contest, is met with in 
 every arm. In the line as in all degrees of the hierarchy, the 
 effects are made manifest by the extremely conscientious manner 
 in which every one fulfils the details of his task, and by the mutual 
 respect which is elicited between all those who discharge their 
 
2,54; Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 obligations well. Anything like the listlessness which is so 
 common among our officers is foreign to the German, army ; for 
 every officer knows that to keep his position, and much more to 
 gain an advance, indefatigable and persistent work is indispensable, 
 and not that only, but also one fertile in practical results. 
 
 At first sight it might be supposed that this constant rivalry 
 between the officers would destroy good- fellowship. But the 
 reverse is the case. Nowhere is it found more strongly developed. 
 It is not restrained within the narrow circle of the regiment, but 
 extends to all corps and to all branches of the service. It con- 
 stitutes, in a word, a most powerful link binding together the 
 members of the great military family. This esprit de corps is not 
 developed merely by the solidarity created by common interests. 
 There are other causes, and in the first' lino may be reckoned the 
 conditions of existence in which they are placed, such as — 1. The 
 mode in which the officers are recruited. 2. The liberty allowed 
 to each in his own sphere of action. 3. The regimental mess. On 
 these points I shall not say much. To the second I have called 
 attention already. With regard to the last, it is sufficiently known 
 to need no particular description. The officers are recruited from 
 the upper ranks of society, from among young men who desire to 
 make the army their profession. They must have served six 
 months at least in a corps, and have passed a very trying examina- 
 tion. Moreover, a candidate for cadetship must obtain the consent 
 of the head of the corps, which is not granted without a very 
 searching examination into his moral, social, and mental qualifica- 
 tions. From the very first day of his admission, the cadet takes 
 his place at the table of the officers, and has access to all their 
 gatherings and military conferences. He is at once made to feel 
 that he is a member of the corps of officers, so that he may accustom 
 himself to their mode of life, and to the usages they observe in 
 their mutual relations. They are of course subjected to very 
 special and careful training in the A B C of military sciences, the 
 bases for private study. But they are made clearly to understand 
 that there is no advance possible for them unless they apply them- 
 selves diligently to their profession, and complete for themselves 
 the very solid, but elementary instruction that has been given 
 them. There are several military colleges for their training: 
 Potsdam, Metz, Anclam, Neisse, Engen, Erfurt, Hanover, Cassel, 
 
The Army. 235 
 
 and Munich. The course in these colleges is from eight to ten 
 months. When it is complete, the officers detailed to give 
 instruction to the cadets return to their regiments to take part in 
 the grand manoeuvres. 
 
 The cadet returns also to his regiment, and remains there till 
 an election for a vacancy among the ensigns, which is made by 
 the officers of the corps after a second scrutiny into the life and 
 character of the candidate. 1 
 
 The principle of free election of officers by their peers proves a 
 most cogent motive to good conduct and personal effort. It is to 
 this that the German army owes the recognition accorded to it 
 in all classes. An officer has access to every circle. It is by its 
 constant application that the ties of brotherhood are formed which 
 unite the officers of a regiment, and even those of the whole army. 
 It is by means of this that the corps of officers has become the 
 animating soul that communicates movement and life to the whole 
 army. 
 
 It must not be lost sight of, that the German soldier, being 
 better educated than the English soldier, is more difficult to 
 manage. He joins the army with formed opinions, and often with 
 all sorts of pretensions. He reads the papers, has his political 
 colour, and, what is more serious, knows enough to criticise and 
 appreciate the acts of his officers. This is not, of course, the case 
 with the mass of the soldiers, drawn from the country and from 
 following the plough. But there are men also from the towns, 
 some who have been reared in an atmosphere of Social Democracy, 
 and such men, voluble and intelligent, are likely to exercise a 
 dangerous influence on their simpler comrades. But though, from 
 this point of view, the command of the men becomes difficult, it 
 has its advantages. 
 
 In the corps there are men of superior class, and they exercise 
 some influence, no doubt, in refining the others, though not much. 
 But the happiest result is that all the officers are forced to keep 
 themselves up to the level of their part and position. Each under- 
 stands that he cannot teach others if he does not take the lead in 
 knowledge, in personal qualities, and in courage. He is ever 
 
 1 As sub-lieutenant, he receives 1,200 niks. per annum = 60/., but he is not 
 elected to be an officer unless he cau show that he has a private income equal to 
 his pay. 
 
236 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 conscious that lie must let the soldiers recognise a real superior in 
 the man who commands them. 
 
 Lieutenants undergo a very searching examination into their 
 qualifications, which lasts fourteen days. Such as have given the 
 examiners reason to believe that they are men of extraordinary 
 ability are taken into the " Kriegs- Akademie," but this contains 
 only from 180 to 200 students. Here they study for two years. 
 In the third j'ear they declare themselves specialists in some 
 particular branch of military science, or subject of military 
 interest. They are then furnished with money by the War Office 
 to travel for a twelvemonth, and perfect their speciality by study 
 abroad ; and they return reports to the War Office of their obser- 
 vations. On coming home they are appointed to the general staff, 
 which thus forms an intelligence department as perfect as could 
 be desired. 
 
 When one considers the marvellous perfection, in all its parts, 
 of the German army, it is natural to compare it with the standard 
 of our English service; and I think it is impossible for any one 
 who knows anything about the two services to doubt that ours 
 lags at least half a century behind that, of Germany. Our organi- 
 sation is not as thorough, our development of the intelligence of 
 the several units is not as complete — indeed, we hardly attempt 
 this, and we have not as yet inspired our officers in every grade 
 with the consciousness that warfare is now a science demanding 
 close attention and study. Nor have we the reserve force of other 
 European nations. On a memorable occasion Lord Beaconsfield 
 threw the taunt in the teeth of Eussia, that England could stand 
 two, or even three campaigns, without her treasury being exhausted. 
 That is no doubt true, but what is of quite as much importance in 
 war as money is soldiers. In the Crimean war we were reduced 
 to send out boys — we had no more trained men. Modern wars 
 demand vast armies. Suppose England should on some occasion 
 make up her mind to hit one of her own size, instead of bullying 
 little savages, and should try conclusions with burlier and more 
 civilised antagonists than Abyssinians, Ashantees, Afghans, and 
 Zulus, — what would be the result? One campaign would consume 
 our available force. Suppose we beat our ojqionent in it, he could 
 send up a column of reserves and form a fresh line, as solid as the 
 first, and we should fill our gaps with old reservists and raw 
 
 
The Army. 237 
 
 recruits. Suppo-e we beat him in a second campaign, he would 
 mobilise the Landwehr, and biing against us a third disciplined 
 army of approved, well instructed, thoroughly trained men, and 
 what should we have then to meet it? A Continental Power can 
 now launch army after army against its enemy, and its military 
 power is only exhausted with the manhood of the nation. 
 
 I fear we rely too much on our money, and not enough on 
 technical education. A hundred years ago James Douglas, in his 
 amusing "Travelling Anecdotes in Europe," gave a conversation 
 which took place at Aix-la-Chapelle between an English colonel 
 and a Prussian major, which curiously shows that the relative 
 positions of the services and conceptions of military strength were 
 the same then as now :— 
 
 " ' My countrymen,' said the colonel, as he raised the glass to 
 his lips, ' have made no despicable figure on the Continent. Our 
 great Duke of Marlborough drove the French to the very gates of 
 their capital by force of arms.' 'By force of money, sir,' answered 
 the major. ' But you allow him to have been a great general ? ' 
 'Very true; and if riches constitute great generals, your country 
 should have the first in all Europe ; but what necessity is there 
 for your having enlightened generals, when you have money 
 enough to purchase your victories? I am sorry to say, sir, that 
 your commanders have shown, even in my memory, that they are 
 entirely ignorant of the word combination in an army. When your 
 generals conquer, they conquer alone by the bravery of their men.' 
 ' What the devil else should they conquer by?' replied the colonel, 
 something elated. 'By skill, sir; by the study of that terrific 
 name, the great scale of war : we laugh at the word bravery. 
 When our generals beat an enemy, they do not conquer by chance, 
 or by the bravery of their troops, but by the mechanical power of 
 their art. 'Tis true, your men stand in the point-blank direction 
 of a cannon-ball by a constitutional firmness. We do not trouble 
 our heads with stamina — we compel them to stand firm by dis- 
 cipline.' ' Then, I presume, the greatest coward in your army 
 is as good a soldier as the bravest ? ' ' We have no cowards ; we 
 all fight — every man of us.' " l 
 
 The science of war is now cultivated to such a pitch, the field 
 
 1 Douglas : Travelling Anecdotes through Various parts 0/ Europe. 3rd 
 edition. London, 1786, p. 269 seq. 
 
238 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 telegraph, lite the nervous system of a human body, ties the whole 
 army together into such a sentient whole, that victory is entirely 
 the result of skilful combination. Mere brute courage counts for 
 nought. No doubt our junior officers are as daring and brave as 
 any men in the world, but when they know more of the rules of 
 polo, and of the figures of a dance, than of evolutions in the face 
 of an enemy, their courage will profit them nothing. Battles are 
 now decided without the combatants coming to blows, when they 
 can only discern one another through a telescope ; courage is there- 
 fore passive, not active; it is merely dogged resolution to stand 
 uncovered in a rain of bullets, knowing no more whence they 
 come than if the}' poured out of the heavens. 
 
 One serious deficiency with us is capable of being remedied 
 without making any radical change in our system. The German 
 army has seventeen depots of men and munitions of war, each depot 
 supplies a corresponding army division. We have but one store 
 of arms — Woolwich, almost entirely unprotected. Let us suppose 
 that a hostile army effected a landing on our South or East coast. 
 If that enemy were Germany, our defence would collapse like a 
 pricked bladder. The invading force would at once secure Wool- 
 wich, which is undefended by forts, and with the loss of it the 
 heart of our resistance would be taken out of it. We need at least 
 one central depot — say at Weedon — protected by a number of 
 detached forts, which would harass and detain an invader. Again, 
 our reserve system is altogether inadequate to our needs. The 
 German reserves are called out every year, and consist of the cream 
 of the army, of men who have served three years in the standing 
 army. Every year for eight weeks the reserve is under drill, to 
 ensure its efficiency, and to ensure its mobilisation on a moment's 
 notice. 
 
 It is impracticable for us to adopt universal military conscription. 
 It is a misfortune for an European nation to be obliged to have 
 resort to this ; but it is, under present circumstances, inevitable. 
 We have a blue moat that surrounds us, and that saves us from 
 having recourse to universal conscription for weighting our arm. 
 It is not necessary for us to discuss the exjiedient, so long as we 
 have the intention to remain at peace with the nations on the 
 Continent, and snap our fingers only in the faces of barbarians. 
 Nor is it necessary to discuss it so long as we intend maintaining 
 
The Army. 239 
 
 a purely defensive attitude, in the event of an European war in 
 which we may be involved. In the field, whether abroad or at 
 home, we could do nothing ; wp should be overwhelmed by 
 numbers or bewildered by skill, and be like the bandaged boy 
 in blind-man's buff, struck here, there, and everywhere, without 
 knowing who was the assailant, and where to charge. 
 
 There is one eminently weak point in our system which is 
 remediable. Our officers, from the lowest to the highest, should be 
 required to cultivate their profession, study for it, and live for it. 
 They are now, with rare exceptions, listless, hunting after pleasure, 
 caring nothing for the art of their profession. We have, I do not 
 doubt it, fiist-rate tacticians among our superior officers, but lower 
 down there is not any professional enthusiasm. Before tho Fire of 
 London, Paul's Walk — the nave of St. Paul's — was a lounge for idle 
 people, not a place for public devotion. Our army is too much of 
 a Paul's Walk — a professional lounge for young men of family 
 and small brains, not a place for hard work and intellectual 
 culture. 
 
 Fielding caustically remarks that in his day " Nature hath 
 made in some persons the skull three times as thick as in those of 
 ordinary men, who are designed to exercise talents which are 
 vulgarly called rational, and for whom, as brains are necessary, she 
 is obliged to leave some room for them in the cavity ; whereas, 
 those ingredients being entirely useless to persons of the heroic 
 calling, she hath an opportunity of thickening the bone, so as to 
 make it less subject to any impression, or liable to be ciacked or 
 broken; and, indeed, in some, who are predestined to the command 
 of armies, she is supposed sometimes to make that part perfectly 
 solid." 1 We have advanced far since Fielding's day, and we have 
 competitive examinations before candidates can be admitted to 
 Woolwich. But that is not enough. Still the prejudice remains 
 among parents that any boy, if he be not clever, is suitable for an 
 officer, as that any boy, who is deficient in manliness, is cut out by 
 nature to be a parson. The cream of intelligence is given to com- 
 merce. The sharp, clever boy goes into business, the dunce or 
 dawdle into the army, and the milk-sop into the Church. Com- 
 petitive examination sifts out the worst of the candidates. But all 
 pass into the army out of Woolwich, as they will pass out of lit.' 
 
 1 Joseph Andrews, bk. ii. ch. 9. 
 
240 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 into Paradise, exclaiming, " Glory be to God, now we have nothing 
 more to do but to kick our heels." 
 
 Pluck, as the Prussian major at Aix truly said, a hundred years 
 ago, is not an element to be considered in modern warfare. Of 
 course our soldiers go into battle with it just as they go into battle 
 wearing a pair of trowsers — ca va sans dire. But one is as much 
 conducive to victory as the other. Professional skill is the essential 
 element of success in modern warfare. The great advantage of this 
 is dexterity in the handling of masses. The head may conceive a 
 project, but unless hand and foot execute it instantaneously, the 
 chance of its success is lost. This dexterity is the result of- con- 
 stant practice, It is precisely the same with an army as with the 
 human body : rapidity of movement, dexterity, is the result of 
 laborious practice. An acrobat can execute the most astonishing ' 
 evolutions with his body, and piit it into the most unusual atti- 
 tudes ; a prestidigitator can work magic with his nimble fingers. 
 A German army is trained like an acrobat and a prestidigitator. 
 Finger and foot are obedient to instant command of the brain, and 
 perform their task with such rapidity that the thing is done, and 
 the means are unperceived. This must be acquired by hard and 
 incessant practice, and till this is acquired by our army we shall 
 be unable to cope with a military power trained on the modern 
 principle. In the German army the important part played by the 
 critique has been pointed out. It quickens the intelligence of every 
 member of the body. It does more, it creates interest in the 
 science. This is a feature not sufficiently carried out in the Eng- 
 lish service Instruction on the why and wherefore of every evolu- 
 tion, manoeuvre, and detail of the service is not given and made 
 general. If this were adopted, interest in the profession might be 
 expected to awake. 
 
 The German army, there can be no question, is a crushing 
 charge on the country. The field army for 1881, exclusive of 
 Landwehr and Landsturm formations, but inclusive of train and 
 administration, consists of 17,621 officers, and 745,602 men, 1560 
 guns, and 240,000 horses. 
 
 The garrisoning army, inclusive of Landwehr, consists of 22,475 
 officers, 619,240 men, 2040 guns, and 80,364 horses. 
 
 The whole available force on a war-footing, including Landwehr, 
 but exclusive of the administration, is 1,469,794 men; exclusive of 
 
 
Tite Aryny. 241 
 
 Freiwilligers, 49,703 officers, 390,350 horses, and 2364 field guns. 
 The number of men in the LaacUturm cannot be ascertained exactly, 
 but it is at least 1,000,000 men. 
 
 The army estimate for 1880-81, is 344,625,887 marks, or 
 17,231,294/., that is, 18,710,821 marks more than for 1879-80. To 
 this must be added an extraordinary demand for 28,998,457 marks, 
 i.e. 21,384,000 more than for the preceding year. This makes a 
 total demand for 373,624,844 mirks, i.e. 18,681,242/. It must be 
 remembered that Germany is not only paying this enormous sum 
 in taxes, direct and indirect; it is also sacrificing three years of 
 the life of nearly all its young men, and two months a year for 
 four years more of the time of tliose who pass into the reserve, all 
 which time might have been occupied in earning money. But not 
 only are the earnings of some seven hundred thousand men annually 
 lost, but neither men nor junior officers can live on their pay. 
 They must draw upon their parents' savings for three years. A 
 soldier's pay is 30 Pfennige per diem ; in addition, he gets a sum 
 which varies according to the prices of the markets of the garrison 
 in which he may be quartered. On an average it may be stated as 
 15 Pfennige, making a total of 45 Pfennige. From this total a de- 
 duction is made of 30 Pfennige, to pay for his rations at breakfast 
 and dinner. The soldier receives also a daily ration of commissariat 
 bread. The dinner consists of soup, some meat and vegetables, 
 no beer. For breakfast, soup and bread. For supper he must pay 
 extra. It is quite impossible for growing young men to live on the 
 rations and the 15 Pfennige or lfd. a day, which falls to them. 
 Those who are very poor hang about the kitchens of the hotels and 
 restaurants for broken meat; some do a little work in their spare 
 time to earn a few coppers. But generally they are supplied with 
 money by their relations. 
 
 What a terrible charge the army is to the country may be 
 judged by the facts just stated. The questions that arise are : Is 
 it necessary? and, Is the army worth this? 
 
 That it is necessary few Germans will dispute. France has 
 adopted universal military conscription, and is working with 
 might and main, and with marked success, to reorganise its army ; 
 the rapid strides it is making force German}'- not to relax her 
 efforts. If France is awake. Fatherland must not go to sleep. 
 That France desires to wipe away the humiliation of 1870-71 no 
 
 R 
 
212 
 
 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 German doubts, and he knows that it is only because Germany 
 does not relax her efforts that France is not already at her throat. 
 1 have heard many and general regrets expressed over the war of 
 1870—71, and acknowledgments that the greatness of the success 
 his proved a misfortune in the end — regrets also that the boundary 
 was not drawn at the Vogesen instead of the heights above Metz; 
 hut I have not heard one man express a doubt that the armed 
 stt ention of Germany is necessary now, and will be for years to 
 I'ome. That it is disastrous to commerce, a burden on the country, 
 they admit, but they know well also that it is unavoidable. 
 
 And if the answer " yes " must be given to the first question, 
 whether this universal armament be necessary, so must a " yes " be 
 ^iven to the second. The army is well worth what it costs the 
 country. It is the great school not only of polishing the manners, 
 and quickening the intelligence of the nation, but it is teaching 
 something more — patriotism, and saturating the consciousnesses of 
 all the youth of the country with the necessity there exists for 
 Germany to be One. It is fusing Hessian, and Prussian, and 
 Hadenser, and Wurtemberger, Hanoverian, and Saxon, and Bavarian 
 into one German people. It is undoing that particularism which 
 was the bane of the past. The lesson may be an expensive one to 
 learn, but it is a lesson that must be learned at any cost. 
 
< 243 ) 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE STAGE. 
 
 God be with you, good people, go and act your play; and if there be anything 
 in which I may be of service to you, command me, for I will do it readily ; having 
 been from my youth a great admirer of masques and theatrical representations. — 
 Don Quixote. 
 
 "On April 26, in the year 1322," says Johann Eothe in his 
 " Thuringian Chronicle," " after Easter there was performed at 
 Eisenach a dramatic representation of the " Ten Virgins," five o^ 
 whom were wise, and five foolish, according to the Gospel, as 
 preached by Christ. And the Landgrave Frederick was present, 
 and saw and heard how the five foolish virgins were cast out oi 
 eternal life, and how Mary and all the saints interceded for them 
 in vain. Theai he fell into great doubt, and was very wroth, and 
 exclaimed : " What profit is there in the Christian faith if God 
 will show no pity at the prayer of Mary and the saints?" And 
 he went to the Wartburg, and was wroth five days, and the 
 learned could hardly appease him and make him understand the 
 purport of the Gospel. And then he had a stroke, brought on by 
 the great distress he was in, and he lay sick of it three years in 
 bed. And then he died, at the ago of fifty-five." 
 
 It is significant that the first historic notice of a dramatic 
 performance in Germany should also illustrate the strong im- 
 pression it produced upon a German mind. 
 
 In his " Confessions " Saint Augustine bewails the hold the 
 stage had on his affections in his unregenerate days. The heathen 
 stage certainly deserved the censure of the early Fathers as 
 dangerous to morals. Under the condemnation of the Church, 
 without the imperial court at Eome to support it, the drama died 
 
244 Germany, Present and, Past. 
 
 out in the West, to be revived in a Christian form in the Mystery. 
 Germany produced her great dramatist in the tenth century — an 
 abbess, Hroswitha, who, finding that the reading of Plautus was 
 not of spiritual profit to her daughters in religion, wrote for them 
 a series of Latin plays on the legends of the saints : dramas of no 
 ordinary merit, and not without their spice of comedy. 
 
 It is not my intention to enter at any length into the history 
 of Mjstery Plays; but something must be said of those which 
 were performed in Germany, as this species of performance is not 
 extinct. 
 
 In 1412, at Bautzen, was performed in the market-place the 
 play of " Saint Dorothea," and thirty-three spectators, standing on 
 the roof of a house, were killed by the giving way of the rafters. 
 In 1417, during the sitting of the Council of Constance, the 
 " Mystery of the Birth of Christ," the " Adoration of the Magi," 
 and the "Massacre at Bethlehem," were performed before the 
 Emperor Sigismund. These plays often lasted several days. In 
 1536, one, " Les Actes des Apotres," was put on the stage at 
 Bourges; it continued forty days, and consisted of 40,000 verses, 
 contained in nine volumes. 
 
 Every village church, probably, had its theatrical performances 
 at Epiphany and Easter. One of the pranks of Tyll Eulenspiegel 
 turns on such a dramatic representation. Tyll served the parish 
 priest as sacristan, and was entrusted at Easter with the duty of 
 providing the three Marys. He chose three of the stupidest louts 
 in the village, and drilled them in their parts. The priest had a 
 wall-eyed house-keeper who was to enact the part of the angel at 
 the tomb, sitting with her blind eye turned from the congregation; 
 and the priest with a banner was to personate Christ. On Easter 
 Day the three bumpkins dressed in female clothes drew up to the 
 sepulchre and stooped before it. Then the white-robed angel 
 blandly asked "Whom seek ye?" Thereupon the three Marys, 
 with one voice, answered, as instructed by Tyll, " We seek the 
 parson's wall-eyed wench." The angel lost composure, sprang 
 off the tomb, and clawed at the eyes of the Marys. Their wives, 
 from the congregation, flew to the rescue. The parson, emerging 
 from his hiding-place, laid about him with the banner, and, in the 
 general scrimmage, Tyll made off. 
 
 In the St. Bartholomew's-Stift at Frankfurt-on-Main is pre- 
 
The Stage. 24-5 
 
 served the stage director's book for the performance of a Passion 
 V\ay. which continued to be enacted annually on the Romerplatz 
 till 1500. In lhat year there were two hundred and sixty-seven 
 performers, among whom were some of the clergy, and the church 
 choir sang antiphons in Latin between the scenes. The Bible 
 text was followed most closely. The cock crowed for Peter's 
 conversion, the stage shook for the earthquake at the Crucifixion, 
 and the hanging of Judas was so real that the actor taking the 
 part on more than one occasion was resuscitated with difficulty. 
 In 1437, at Metz, the priest who acted the part of Christ was so 
 severely dealt with in the Crucifixion scene that he died of the 
 consequences. The performance took place in the open air, under 
 the sun ; the pavement was parterre, the windows of the houses 
 formed the boxes, and the roofs constituted the gallery. 
 
 In the great Mysteries the stage was at three elevations, and 
 before it was a shallow but broad podium for the chorus. The 
 lowest stage represented the nether world. In the midst was a 
 door — the mouth of hell, and steps led from it on each side to the 
 second stage, which figured earth. The highest stage was reserved 
 for the Deity and the saints ; it was heaven. Each stage was 
 divided into three compartments by pillars. 'There was no curtain, 
 no change of scenery, but the back of each platform was suitably 
 painted, or hung with drapery. The Mount of Olives, the pinnacle 
 of the Temple, etc., were made of wine-barrels piled on one 
 another, disguised by painted canvas, whence the stage directions 
 " Here Satan ascends the barrel," or " Judas springs off the barrel." 
 
 With this description of the structure of the mediaeval stage, 
 the reader will be able to follow the movement of a play composed 
 in 1480 by a priest, Theodore Schernbeck, and published by Tilesius 
 at Eisleben in 15b*5. It is entitled " Frau Jutta" and turns on 
 the story of Pope Joan. It opens with a dance of demons on the 
 lowest platform, singing in chorus — 
 
 Lucifer on throne of night, 
 Rimo, Riiuo, Rimo ! 
 Once an angel clad in light, 
 Rimo, Rimo, Rimo! 
 Now a devil foul to sight, 
 Rimo, Rimo, Rimo I 
 
 Lilith, Satan's grandmother, with a howl, leaps from the jaws of 
 
246 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 hell (in the centre) into the circle of caperers, and expresses her 
 delight at their mad hullabaloo. All the while, on the highest 
 stage, in a blaze of sunlight, silent, still as statues, sit Christ, his 
 mother, and the saints, whilst angels kneel, with smoking censers, 
 in adoiation. Lucifer sends an angel on earth to inspire the maid 
 Jutta with ambition to climb to the highest pinnacle of honour in 
 the world, hitherto supposed to be accessible only to a man. The 
 devil mounts to the middle stage, where the maid Jutta is seen 
 ministering to her master and lover, a clerk. The evil spirit 
 breathes the ambitious thought into her ear, and she discusses 
 it with the clerk. They resolve to go to Paris together, where 
 she, in male attire, may study with him in the university. Whilst 
 they are on their journey the chorus on the p>>diitm sing. The 
 stage direction is broad enough, " Untcr des singet man etwas." 
 When the studies at Paris are accomplished, Jutta receives the 
 Doctor's bonnet, and goes to Eorae with her clerk, where they 
 enter the household of Tope Basil, are next appointed cardinals, 
 and finally Jutta is elected Pope. All this is passed over rapidly, 
 and preludes the main aetion of the piece, which now begins, and 
 shows the advantages of the structure of the Mediasval stage for 
 dramatic effect. 
 
 Jutta is enthroned Pope, and sits surrounded by cardinals, 
 holding conclave, when a senator enters and represents that his 
 son is possessed with a devil, which he prays the new Pope to 
 expel. Now, for the first time, fear falls on the soul of the ambi- 
 tious woman. The possessed boy is brought in, writhing on his 
 couch, and she recognises in the spirit that afflicts him the demon 
 who had inspired her with her sacrilegious purpose. She invites 
 the cardinals to drive out the devil ; they attempt it, but in vain. 
 Then, hesitatingly, tremblingly, the Pope raises her voice in 
 exorcism. The black spirit appears — hidden before behind the 
 bed, — and flies towards hell, shrieking — 
 
 Hear ! hear this marvel all 
 Assembled in Saint Peter's Hall, 
 A woman has you all beguiled 
 A woman-Pope, a Pope w itli child ! 
 
 That the disclosure of such a scandal in the Church, wrought by a 
 profligate woman, would produce a lively effect on a believing 
 audience, entered into the calculations of the poet : and the three- 
 
The Stage. 247 
 
 fold division of his stage assisted in making it effective. The 
 lowest platform is crowded with scoffing, exulting demons, jabber- 
 ing and pointing at the Pope, who sits on the middle stage, in full 
 pontificals, blanched with fear, covering her eyes with shame. 
 whilst the cardinals shrink back with dismay, or lean forward in 
 question. Above, the Saviour discloses his pierced side, the saints 
 express dismay. Mary kneels before her Son, and at her prayer li 
 sends the Angel Gabriel to announce to Jutta the approach of death. 
 Thereupon the female Pope, filled with contrition, falls pros- 
 trate. She lifts her bands to heaven, and as she sees death- a 
 skeleton — descend the stair of cloud, with poised javelin to smite 
 her, she breaks into the musical cry — l 
 
 Mary, Mary, mother dear, 
 In iny shame, my hour of fear, 
 Drops of blood I weep ; receive 
 My confession ! do not leave 
 Me, for evil I have done : 
 Plead for me to thy dear Son ! 
 
 The stage direction orders a rushing together of the cardinals 
 and of the populace around the dying Pope. A new-born child is 
 lifted above their heads and shown to the audience. At the same 
 moment the soul of Jutta is seen carried off by devils to the nether 
 world. 
 
 A new situation now begins. 
 
 Blood rains out of heaven, and the earth quakes. The cardinals 
 assume that heaven is outraged at the disgrace brought on the 
 Holy See by Jutta, and resolve on a pilgrimage to invoke the inter- 
 cession of Our Lady and St. Nicolas. They form into procession, 
 with tapers and banners, and move along the middle stage chanting 
 a litany. Below, the demons are tormenting the soul of Jutta, 
 who pleads on in piteous hymns to Mary. Above, in heaven, the 
 Blessed Virgin and St. Nicolas are entreating the Saviour, but — 
 " Chi istus schweiget stille." 
 
 Then Mary recites all her cares and sorrows, from the hour of 
 the Nativity in the stable till the dead head rested on the mother's 
 lap beneath the Cross : the Saviour's brow relaxes, he raises his 
 mother, and sends Michael to release the soul of Jutta. 
 
 The closing spectacle must have been one of extraordinary 
 
 1 The musical notation is printed with the text. 
 
218 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 animation and dignity, the like of which cannot he equalled with 
 all our modern appliances, in the opera. The devils recoil before 
 Michael in his flashing silver armour, muttering a rolling bass of 
 execrations. Simultaneously rise the wail of the litany as the pro- 
 cession winds, the song of thanksgiving from the lips of the 
 redeemed soul, and a thunder of Alleluias from the host in heaven. 
 
 What a subject for Wagner! 
 
 In the Mystery Tlays representing the Gospel story, each scene 
 ■was "interlarded" with a tableau, or scene in dumb show taken 
 from the Old Testament, typical of the scene from the New Testa- 
 ment. In the baroque period this tradition of the religious drama 
 survived under a form adapted to the taste of the period. In 1743 
 was enacted before Maria Theresa and Francis the First a play on 
 the Conversion of Constantine, which opened with the stage repre- 
 senting a rock rising out of the sea, to which Andromeda was 
 chained, and a monster at her feet was rising to devour her. Above 
 sat enthroned Jupiter and the gods and goddesses of the heathen 
 pantheon. Perseus rescues Andromeda. It is easy to trace the 
 allegory. Const tntine delivers the Christian Church from perse- 
 cution. The prologue ends with Perseus giving Andromeda over 
 to the charge of his friend Phineus. The first act represents Con- 
 Ktantine's camp and the marshalling of his host. 
 
 The second entr'acte treats of the faithless Phineus, intent on 
 securing Andromeda for himself, building a bridge with the bones 
 of the sea-monster. Perseus appears on the winged horse, exhibits 
 the Gorgon's head. Phineus plunges into the sea, his companions 
 are turned to stone. The second act represents the battle of the 
 Milvian Bridge. Maxentiiis is precipitated into the Tiber, the 
 labarum strikes terror into the hearts of his soldiers, and the Senate 
 of Eome falls prostrate in worship before the triumphant Cross. 
 
 The story of Andromeda also serves as prelude to a play of the 
 " Sacrifice of Isaac " performed in 1725. 
 
 Any one who has seen the Ober-Ammergau, Mittewald, or Brix- 
 leg Passion Plays will recognise at once three features of the 
 Mediaeval Mystery which are preserved in them: the chorus sing- 
 ino - the intermezzo on the podium ; the proscenium enclosing only 
 a third of the stage ; and the allegorical tableaux from the Old 
 Testament introducing each scene in the Gospel narrative. 
 
 Miracle Plays are not limited to these three spots. I have seen 
 
 
The Btaje. 249 
 
 the " Life of Our Lord " enacted by strolling companies in the 
 Black Forest, and in the Pyrenees. But perhaps the most curious 
 representation of the last scenes of the sacred history I have wit- 
 nessed was at Mechlin, a few years ago, on the fete of St. Rumbold. 
 A travelling band of players had erected a large tent with st:ige in 
 it, in the market-place ; and their programme of entertainments 
 consisted of : — 
 
 1. Tight-rope dancing, tumbling, and performing dogs. 
 . 2. The laughable fai ce of " A Ghost in spite of himself." * 
 3. The Passion and Resurrection of Christ. 
 
 It was more than startling to see " the spangled sprite of the 
 shining shower," who pirouetted on the tight-rope, figure half an 
 hour later as the Mater Dolorosa, and the human spider, a man in 
 fleshings, who walked backwards on hands and feet, transformed 
 into the Beloved Disciple ; but the Brabant peasants seemed 
 aware of no incongruity, and were as ready to weep at the cruci- 
 fixion as they weie to laugh at the dancing dogs. The peasant 
 mind of the present day is constituted like that of their Mediaeval 
 forefathers, who insisted on the introduction of an element of 
 grotesqueness into every tragedy and religious mystery. 
 
 This has been banished from the Ober-Ammergau performance 
 in deference to the taste of Munich visitors; but it survives at 
 Brixleg, where Judas hanging himself, and Malchus pullino- his 
 ear to ascertain whether it is fast fixed, elicit roars of laughter. 
 In Mahlmann's tearful tragedy of " Herod before Bethlehem " 
 there is a comic chorus of the children over lollipops scattered 
 among them. 
 
 But it is in the Opera and the Oratorio that the most flourish- 
 ing descendants of the old My.-tery Plays are to be met with. It 
 is in them that they have touched the ground and arisen with 
 renewed strength. The sacred opera is not known to us in Eng- 
 land : its less charming quaker sister, the Oratorio, is preferred. 
 But in Germany, as we shall see presently, it long held its ground, 
 and at the present day Mehul's "Joseph in Egypt" and Rubin- 
 stein's " Maccabeus," &c., are played wherever there is an operatic 
 company. 2 
 
 1 The English farce of that name translated into Flemish. 
 
 2 In 1877, at Berlin, Joseph thrice, Ihe Maccabees five times; at Hanover 
 Joseph once, Cassel twice, Wiesbaden once, in the season. 
 
250 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 At the end of the fifteenth century a new species of dramatic 
 performance came into existence to dispute the ground with the 
 Mystery. This was the school comedy, a nursling of the learned. 
 The zeal with which, at this period, the Greek and Latin authors 
 were studied led to the performance by scholars of the plays of 
 Terence. Then the learned were seized with ambition to write 
 Latin imitations of the classic authois, and to set their pupils to 
 act them. But these performances were of little influence on the 
 drama, except to emancipate it from the Church. The language 
 was dead, the manners represented belonged to a dead civilisation 
 — there was nothing in them to live or give life. 
 
 At the same time, in taverns and in the streets, strolling 
 players, seldom more than three at a time, performed little farces of 
 the meanest merit and most jejune wit. Hans Kosenblut, a master- 
 singer, was renowned as a composer of such pieces. They were 
 performed without stage or costume. Their representatives sur- 
 vive. Whilst writing this chapter, I saw a couple performed at a 
 peasant's wedding near Klein-Laufenhurg. One turned on the 
 contrast between the new style of fashionable shoemaker and the 
 old style of cobbler. The other was on the blunders made by a 
 Swabian servant in the service of a baron. These simple plays 
 were the first feeble beginnings of the secular drama. They 
 appeared at the time when the schism between the people and the 
 Church was beginning to show. 
 
 But Hans Sachs, the .shoemaker of Niirnberg, gave the drama 
 its new direction. " Hans Sachs," says Gervinus, " stands at the 
 middle point between the old and the new art ; he drew into his 
 poetry history and the whole circle of science and common life, 
 broke the bounds of nationality, and gave German poetry its 
 characteristic stamp. He was a reformer in poetry as truly as was 
 Luther in religion, and Hutten in politics." Sachs adapted to the 
 stage alike the stories of the Old and New Testaments, from the 
 Creation to the Redemption, the fables of antiquity, the legends of 
 the Heldenbuch, the novels of Boccaccio, Greek tragedies, Boman 
 comedies, and the follies and crimes of his own time. In his sixty- 
 nine carnival pieces, fifty-two secular comedies, twenty-eight 
 secular tragedies, and fifty-two sacred tragedies and comedies, he 
 broke down the partition which existed between the religious 
 stage and the secular drama, and brought the theatre into sym- 
 
The Stage. 251 
 
 pathy with the citizen life of his period. Hans Sachs' plays show 
 
 us dramatic art getting out of swaddling-clothes, nothing moi - e. 
 
 There is no attempt at delineation of character, none at producing 
 
 effective situations. The comedy of the " Children of Eve " shows 
 
 us the great simplicity of the cobbler-poet. The Almighty appears 
 
 "like a condescending but stiff school inspector," says Tieck, and 
 
 walks about attended by two angels, examining Adam's children 
 
 in Luther's catechism. Eve has to take Cain to task for holding 
 
 out his left to shake hands with God, and for forgetting to doff his 
 
 cap on His first appearance. It was probably under the direction 
 
 of Sachs that the first German theatre was erected at Numbers:, in 
 
 1550, by the guild of the master-singers. 1 Augsburg followed the 
 
 example of Nurnberg. These theatres were without roofs, but the 
 
 stage was covered, and the patricians occupied chairs on the stage 
 
 on each side — a right they claimed long after the whole house was 
 
 covered in. These theatres, like those for the Mysteries, were 
 
 without curtain. At the beginning of an act the performers 
 
 entered, at the end they retired. The drama had not yet 
 
 conceived the idea of beginning or closing in the midst of a 
 
 situation. 
 
 Adam Puschmann, a pupil of Hans Sachs, also a shoemaker and 
 master-singer, carried the Nurnberg art to Breslau. He wrote a 
 great comedy of " Joseph and his Brothers " with valuable stage 
 directions. He particularly urges that all the properties and 
 costumes be got together before the beginning of a performance. 
 The brothers of Joseph are to have coats of one sort, hats and 
 shepherds' staves, Jacob a long grey beard, the angel yellow 
 frizzled hair and a gilt nimbus. Pharaoh must wear royal robes 
 "and a beautiful royal beard," Joseph a slashed and puffed dress, 
 parti-red. 
 
 At this time, as in the Middle Ages, women were not tolerated 
 on the stage, and the female parts were enacted by bqys. Charles 
 V., in an enactment on stage dress, excluded women from appear- 
 ing on the boards. Philip II. strictly prohibited female performer 
 
 1 In France the first was erected by the Brothers of the Passion in the 
 village of S. Maur, near Vincennes, in 1398. In Italy, the old amphitheatres 
 were used. The Brothers of the Passion, "del gonfdone," since 12G4 when 
 founded, performed annually in the Colosseum. The first wooden theatre erected 
 in London was in 1576. 
 
252 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 but with, the introduction of the opera, they became a necessity. 
 The Reformers laid eager hold of tha drama, as a lively means of 
 popularising their attacks on Rome. Not only rectors of colleges 
 and professors of universities, but village pastors and superintend- 
 ents of dioceses, rivalled each other in the composition of pieces for 
 the stage. But it was not only for polemic purposes that they 
 courted Melpomene ; they felt that by making a clean sweep of the 
 old religious services of the Church, they had lost one great means 
 of impressing on the minds of the people the great story of Re- 
 demption, carried out in the ecclesiastical ritual of the Christian 
 year in a dramatic but educative manner. They therefore sought 
 to make the stage do for them what Catholic ritual had effected 
 before. The result was that with the Reformation came a great 
 revival of the religious play, and that till the middle of the 
 eighteenth century the Evangelical clergy of Germany encouraged, 
 wrote for, and applauded the stage, and only broke with it when it 
 refused to become the humble hand-maid of the Protestant Church. 
 
 Luther was the first to stand forth as the champion of the 
 stage against those sterner spirits, who doubted the propriety 
 of setting boys to act in the questionable plays of Terence. 
 "Christians," he said, "must not shun comedies because in them 
 there are some foul indecencies and licentious performances, for on 
 account of these we might forbid them also reading the Bible. 
 Therefore it is not well that a Christian should avoid reading or 
 acting in such comedies, just because they contain these sort of 
 things." 
 
 " John Huss at Constance " was a stock polemic piece among 
 the Lutherans. The contrast between Christ and Antichrist, in 
 a series of scenes, as represented in the woodcuts adorning the 
 "Memorabilia" of Wolfius, was put on the boards. Such a series 
 had great influence in deciding the people of Berne to adopt the 
 Reformation. 1 
 
 The Rector Kielmann of Stettin composed a comedy on Tetzel's 
 sale of Indulgences. " Lutherus Redivivus," " Curriculum Vitae 
 Lutheri," " The Calvinist Postboy," were the titles of other con- 
 troversial comedies. Paul Rebhun, pastor of Oelmitz, afterwards 
 superintendent of Voigtsherg, wrote a " spiritual play of the 
 
 1 By Nicolas Manuel. His pieces were as offensive to decency as they were 
 polemical. 
 
 
The Stage. 253 
 
 chaste Susanna," in five acts, with chorus, after the Mediaeval 
 pattern. "Saul and David," in live acts, occupying two days, 
 with 100 actors and 500 walking characters, was performed in 
 1571 at Gabel. The deacon, Eiiginger, wrote a great play of the 
 Rich Man and poor Lazarus. In this the dramatis personae are 
 divided into three lots (Haufen). To the first lot belong: the 
 actor, i.e. the director, who recites the prologue to each act, and is 
 also stage-manager; the argumentator, a boy who points the 
 moral of each act; the conclusor, who speaks the epilogue; also 
 the Almighty, the angel who takes the soul of Lazarus, Abraham ; 
 trusty Eckehardt, adopted into the sacred play horn popular 
 mythology; 1 Solicitus, a poor artisan; Lazarus; two travelling 
 students; a hospital servant colled ing subscriptions ; Master Hans, 
 a tailor; the soul of Lazarus represented by a pretly little boy 
 in a white shirt. 
 
 To the second lot belong : Nabal, the rich man ; his wife 
 Sarkophilia; his five brethren ; Convivia, a guest; Syrus, Dromo, 
 and Davus, servants : a head cook and scullion, a huntsman, fisher- 
 man, butler, jester, drummers and pipers, and chambermaids. 
 
 To the third lot belong: Temporal Death and Eternal Death; 
 Satan and six hideous devils ; the soul of Nabal, a little boy 
 blackened with charcoal and in a black shirt. 
 
 " It was in the bosom of the Reformation," says Devrient, " that 
 the drama first obtained an independent life, which gradually un- 
 folded. And the course of the history of the stage shows that all 
 progress in dramatic art was effected in Protestant lands, by Pro- 
 testant authors, and by Protestant actors." 
 
 I shall speak in another chapter of the German opera, but, as 
 I am on the subject of sacred dramas, I cannot break what I have 
 to say upon it into two portions. The true descendant of the old 
 Mystery Play is found in the sacred Opera and Oratorio. That 
 I have already stated. But what I may now add is, that these are 
 the forms it has assumed in the nursing arms of Protestantism. 
 The old Mystery Play remains scarce altered in Catholic lands, in 
 Austria and Bavaria, but in the Protestant North it has become a 
 cultured child of civilisation. 
 
 1 Trusty Eckehardt in the popular myth watches ,the gates of the Venus- 
 berg, and warns off those who approach the underground palace of the goddess 
 of Love. 
 
2."-i Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 In 1678 a musical drama was performed, entitled "Man's 
 Creation, Fall, and Restoration," the words by Gerhardt Schott, 
 thfi music by Thiol. The old threefold form of stage was pre- 
 served with this improvement (?), that Heaven, with the Trinity 
 enthroned in it, was let. down and hauled up as required. The 
 introduction represented Chaos and the Fall of the Angels. The 
 Creator descends " on the great machine," and begins to make 
 Man. Lucifer on the lowest stage, addressing his devils as 
 " Messieurs ! " exhorts them to effect the ruin of the new creation. 
 It is unnecessary to follow the opera further. In the same year 
 was enacted, before the court at Dresden, " The Patriarch Jacob 
 and his Sons," lasting three days, and winding up with " a ballet 
 of the Sons of Israel." In the repertoire of the Hamburg Opera- 
 House during the seventeenth century we find the " Bloody 
 Spectacle of Jesus tortured and crucified for our Sins." And 
 before the Saxon court was repeatedly played " The Dying Jesus" 
 by Dedekind. How little these compositions did justice to their 
 subject may be judged from an instance from the last. When 
 Judas sings his farewell to earth, the Devil sings echo ; and when 
 he bursts asunder, Satan collects the bowels in a basket, trolling 
 forth an appropriate air. 
 
 In 1688 at Hamburg was performed "The Eevenge of the 
 Gibeonifes," after 2 Sam. xxi. and Joshua ix. On another day in 
 the same year, " The sacred drama of Adam and Eve, followed by 
 the merry farce of Pickelherring in a Box." At Hamburg, in 1702, 
 widow Velthen's company produced " The ascent of Elijah and 
 the stoning of Naboth, followed hy Pickelherring and the School- 
 master, or the bacon thief taken in." In 1734 at Hamburg was 
 enacted " The whole history of Samson, the Israelitish Hercules," 
 winding up with a ballet of Jews, Philistines, Delilah and Samson. 
 In the " Birth of Christ," an opera performed at Hamburg in 
 1681, in addition to the personages of the sacred story, appeared 
 Apollo, the Pythoness, and his priests, bewailing the fali of the 
 old gods of Olympus. 
 
 In Catholic countries the martyrdom of saints remained a 
 favourite subject for dramatic representation. A traveller in 1790 
 gives the following account of one such : — " The parish of Ambras 
 announced on a large placard its intention of entertaining and 
 edifying the public, on July 25, with a performance of a tragedy, 
 
The Stags. 255 
 
 1 The youthful martyr St. Pancras,' to begin at half-past one in 
 the afternoon, and to last till six in the evening. Though this 
 was the tenth performance, there was quite a pilgrimage of Inns- 
 bruckers to Ambras on that sweltering afternoon. The theatre 
 was a solid wooden erection near a tavern, with a plot of grass 
 before it. The three entrances were guarded by peasants with 
 balberts. Seats in shade cost six kreuzers. The stage was much 
 raised and was long. It had two side curtains, and between them 
 the principal curtain, and these were drawn up turn and turn 
 about with the central curtain. Over the proscenium sprawled a 
 wooden angel, from whose consecrated lips issued in golden vapour 
 the words ' The Life and Death of the Ble.^sed Pancras.' In 
 Greek fashion the prologue was sung by a chorus, in which the 
 Good Shepherd, brandishing his crook, denounced the evil days 
 in doggerel. In the play appeared, not only angels and devils, but 
 also the Pope, who, when not wanted on the stage, sat in the pit 
 ire pontijicalibus, looking on with the spectators. For next Sunday 
 'The Devil on two Slicks' was announced." The traveller goes 
 on to relate that in other villages near Innsbruck, St. Mary 
 Magdalene and St. Sebastian were being performed, and he was 
 assured that these pieces possessed superior attractions to that of 
 St. Pancras, inasmuch as more devils appeared in them. 1 Pre- 
 cisely the same plays are enacted to this day in Tyrol, the Bavarian 
 Alps, the Black Forest, and elsewhere. On the very day that this 
 was written, I saw a poster at Wald.-hut announcing that on 
 Sunday, April 7, 1878, the legend of St. Christopher would be 
 given by a religious club, representing the Saint in his service 
 to Satan, his conversion, his carrying Christ over the water, and 
 his martyrdom, in four acts. 
 
 Throughout the seventeenth century wandering bands of actors 
 performed in the towns of Germany. * They bore the title of 
 " English comedians." Perhaps the first company may have been 
 composed of English players, 2 but if so, their successors were cer- 
 tainly German, though they designated themselves as English. 
 They were the first professionals in Germany. 
 
 1 See Pichler, Ueber das Drama des Mittelalters in Tirol. Innsbruck, 1850. 
 
 2 Now it is our proud prerogative to provide the Continent with clowns. In 
 1876, 1 saw English clowns at the Theatre S. Hubert in Brussels, in a circus at 
 Liege, in another at Constance ; in 187S, at Strassburg. I have met them as 
 well at Mainz. They may be found also in the Prater at Vienna. 
 
256 
 
 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 In 1605, Duke Julius of Brandenburg appointed court actors. 
 In 1611, the Saxon ambassador at the court of Hesse-Cassel saw 
 performed the " ' Comedy of Tarquin and Lucretia ' in a pretty- 
 theatre built in the Roman style, and capable of holding a thou- 
 sand spectatrs.' In 162G, Hans Schilling, director of one of these 
 hands, obtained a patent from the Elector John George of Saxony 
 to perform in his Principality. The patent was continued to his 
 son-in-law Lengsfeld. 
 
 From these companies the theatrical profession in Germany 
 dates its origin. 
 
 Let us see what was their repertoire. Jacob Ayrer of Niirnberg 
 was the chief dramatic composer after Hans Sachs. Sixty-six of 
 liis pieces were published after his death in 1618. They manifest 
 some advance in power of treatment and grouping, but that is all. 
 In Hans Sachs there was the coarseness of a simple age ; in Ayrer 
 there is brutal indecency, to suit a savage and sensual taste. 
 
 In 1624 appeared in print the first collection of pieces performed 
 by the errant troupes. It was entitled : " English Comedies and 
 Tragedies : that is, very Beautiful, Choice, and Excellent Sacred 
 and Secular Comedies and Tragedies, together with Pickelherring. 
 These, on account of their moral purport and adhesion to history, 
 have been well received by Eoyal, Electoral, and Princely Courts, 
 as also by the Free Imperial and Hanseatic Cities, where they have 
 been enacted by English Players. Now first printed for edification 
 and entertainment." 
 
 This curious volume lets us see what was the state of the public 
 taste when the Thirty Years' war burst over the nation. 
 
 Among the plays the favourite was probably " Titus Androni- 
 cus," a seven-act tragedy, which was so popular in England that 
 it was recast again and again till Shakspeare gave it its definite 
 form. From his redaction we know that it is a story full of 
 horrors, much more calculated to excite disgust and repulsion than 
 to serve for " edification and entertainment." But in the version 
 given by the " English players " in Germany all the horrors were 
 produced with dull coarseness, the speeches are without brilliancy 
 — all is stupid and brutal and bloody. At the close of the fourth 
 act, when Titus has in his power the sons of the Empress, who had 
 disgraced his daughter, and cut off her hands and tongue lest she 
 should be able to write or speak the name of the person who had 
 
The Stage. 257 
 
 ill-treated her, he exclaims: "Hallo, soldiers! cone forward and 
 hold these fellows firmly. Now, you murderous and dishonourable 
 scoundrels, I have you in my power. Servants ! bring me a sharp 
 knife and a butcher's apron." When these properties are produced, 
 Titus ties on him the apron. " Go and fetch me a basin. And do 
 one of you hold this fellow's throat that I may slash it. And do 
 you other hold the basin in which to catch his blood." The eldest 
 brother is first led forward. Titus cuts his throat from ear to ear. 
 The blood pours into the bowl. Then he lays him down, when all 
 the blood has run out. 1 And he deals with the second brother in 
 a similar manner. Titus goes on, "Now I have cut both their 
 throats, and I have slaughtered them with my own hand, and I will 
 cook them myself also. I will hack their heads into small junks, 
 and bake them in pasties, and feast on them the Emperor and his 
 mother, when I have invited them to me. Take up the bodies and 
 carry them into the kitchen, where I may operate upon them 
 appropriately." 
 
 Putting aside the disgust inspired by a horrible subject treated 
 in this Raw-head and Bloody-bones style, one looks into the drama 
 in hopes of finding some tokens of advance in dramatic composition, 
 some improvement in literary style on the crudities of Hans Sachs, 
 and one looks in vain. The play is simply a story told in dialogue. 
 It is the same with Esther and Haman, the Prodigal Son, Fortu- 
 natus, and the rest. They are strings of incidents calculated to 
 amuse the public, but the Folks-drama is like the Folks-tale, a 
 tissue of adventures without a thread of moral interest running 
 through it. The actors are puppets, not men with characters and 
 souls ; there is no development of ideas, no modulation of character 
 in them. The popular interest is excited by material horrors, not 
 by spiritual sympathies. The speeches have their formulae, " Now 
 I will do this," and after an event, " Now this is done." Even the 
 throat-cutting in Andronicus must be announced as about to take 
 place, and declared to be accomplished, so little could the drama 
 emancipate itself from the form of recitation of a tale, to which the 
 enacted scenes were the illustrations. 
 
 Of horrors there must be a glut. Suicides take place in public, 
 often the hero or villain in despair " dashes his head against the 
 wall, so that blood bursts out," — the stage direction adds, " to be 
 
 1 The stage directions for all this are very explicit. 
 
 S 
 
258 Germany, Present and Pad. 
 
 managed with a bladder." In " King Montalor" a pair of lovers 
 are beheaded on the stage with great effusion of blood, and when 
 the king dies, the stage direction is, " Here they begin to fight, 
 and when the king is cut across the head, it must be so arranged 
 that blood is to spurt out." In the hanging scene in Esther, 
 Hainan exclaims, whilst the rope is round his neck, " How sweet its 
 life ! Heath how bitter ! World adieu ! " whereupon Hans Knap- 
 kiise, the clown, flings him off, cuts him down, and carries him out. 
 
 It will perhaps be hardly believed that spectacles equally dis- 
 gusting should still attract and delight crowds. But such is the 
 case. In 1876 I was at Ulm at the Kermesse. In front of the 
 Liebfrau-Kirche was a huge booth, in which a grand execution by 
 guillotine proved an unfailing attraction every evening. The 
 person to be beheaded was laid on a sort of trough, and run under 
 ihe guillotine : a crimson silk cap was placed over the head. The 
 cord was cut, and down came the axe, apparently severing the 
 head from the trunk. The executioner held up the head, from 
 which bled flowed into a large metal soup-plate. He borrowed a 
 handkerchief from a lady in the reserved seats, and sopped it with 
 the blood spurting from the severed arteries in the stump. Then 
 he placed the head on a table, and drew up the cap to expose the 
 face. Of course the putting on of the head followed. But the 
 feature of the performance which most struck mc — sickened by the 
 revolting spectacle — was the placidity and even pleasure with 
 which it was viewed by ladies, and burger and bauer women of 
 Ulm and its neighbourhood. A Yorkshire friend, sitting by me, 
 exclaimed, " Why, if this had been exhibited at Wakefield, we should 
 have had the women shrieking and fainting ! " and I have no doubt 
 that such would have been the effect produced by the exhibition in 
 any part of England. 
 
 But to return to the "English comedies " published in 1624. 
 The obscenity of these pieces printed " with moral purpose " is as 
 offensive as their brutality. " However unrefined we may imagine 
 the age to have been," says Devrient, "it seems to us inconceivable 
 how women and girls could have sat out the scenes of boundless 
 indecency and unveiled licentiousness in which Pickelherring or 
 Hans Wurst is the chief actor. Their shameless foulness of word 
 and act surpasses all belief." 
 
 About the year 1 683 a German band of strolling players was 
 
 
The Stage. 259 
 
 organised by Master Johann Velthen of Halle, which speedily 
 acquired great fame, and which revolutionised the stage. 
 
 Velthen introduced dramatic life and personality into his pieces 
 and personages, but at a great cost. Hitherto the actors had been 
 puppets reciting a story they had acquired by heart. To identify 
 the actor with his part was Velthen's object, and the only way of 
 doing this was, he supposed, to emancipate him from the text and 
 throw him on his own resources. He cast aside the manuscript, 
 sketched to his company the outline of the plot, arranged the 
 order of the scenes and the principal situations, and left them to 
 work the story out in their own way, by their own wit, im- 
 provising to suit every occasion. For the first time the actor 
 was taught to enter into his part, live in it, think in it, speak 
 and act in it, instead of strutting and declaiming it. The fashion 
 spread and became universal. But success was not also always 
 universal. Velthen's plan answered when all the company 
 consisted of men of talent, but one or two inferior actors had it 
 in their power to mar a whole play, to discomfit the rest, and so 
 entangle the plot as to make it inextricable. 
 
 There were further disadvantages in Velthen's venture. The 
 whole generation of actors that grew up under him acquired a 
 radical contempt for the text, and their memories were unculti- 
 vated, so that it became with them an impossibility to accurately 
 read up a part. And a still more serious disadvantage was this — 
 Velthen had cut the drama adrift from literature. No writer of 
 ability would compose for the stage when the actors refused to be 
 bound by his text. 
 
 John George III. of Saxony, in 1685, erected the first German 
 court, theatre at Dresden, and installed in it Velthen and his troupe 
 with fixed salary. Velthen received annually 200 thalers, his wife 
 the same sum, his sister 100 thalers, the other actors received from 
 150 to 100 thalers a year. The pay was poor. In 1687 the first 
 Italian singers at the opera received 1,500 thalers; but it was a 
 beginning, a first rec"gnition of the drama by the court. It was 
 more : it was the first recognition of women as actresses. Hitherto 
 female parts had been performed by boys. But the opera had 
 broken through prejudice and admitted women on the boards. 
 But even in the opera it was not everywhere that women were 
 tolerated. At the court of Charles VI., at the beginning of the 
 
>60 
 
 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 eighteenth century, when the opera was under the direction of 
 Metastasio, and the carrying out of one opera cost 60,000 florins, 
 the female parts were taken by eunuchs. Velthen, who introduced 
 improvisation, brought also women on the stage. There were five 
 in his company, his wife, her sister, the wives of two of the actors, 
 and a lady of gentle birth, Sara von Boxberg. 
 
 On the death ot John George III., the court theatre was 
 broken up, and the Saxon Electoral House abandoned the pro- 
 tectorship of the German drama. Velthen's troupe recommenced 
 its wanderings. Velthen died at Hamburg in 1692, and his 
 company dissolved. 
 
 Velthen had lived long enough to find that the wide latitude 
 he had allowed his actors did not answer, that genius was not 
 always ready' to respond to a sudden summons, and that tragedies 
 trusted to improvisation had an unhappy knack of converting 
 themselves in the course of performance into extravaganza or 
 burlesque. Actors at a loss for words beat about their hands and 
 howled, ranting took the place of acting, and empty vociferation 
 of connected declamation. He was therefore obliged to introduce 
 more and more of matter to be committed to memory. And what 
 was this repertoire? A curious MS. collection of pieces of this 
 period exists at Vienna. Among them are " Perseus and Andro- 
 meda ; " " Phteton ; " " Medea and Harlequin ; " " The Wisdom of 
 Solomon ; " " Eginhardt and Emma ; " " Eomeo and Juliet ; " " The 
 Earl of Essex ; " " Charles XII. at Friedrichshall ; " " The Loving 
 Stepmother, Ormunda;" " Ardelinda, the Female Hero," etc. The 
 plots were derived from foreign sources, but the plays were no 
 servile translations. " Medea and Harlequin " was based on the 
 tragedy of Euripides, but, oh, what a falling off is here ! Medea is 
 wroth chiefly because Creon will not admit her to his court. A 
 soldier who bars her way she transforms into a pillar, another 
 into a tree, the palace into a wilderness. There is no lack of 
 enchantments, flying chariots and fire-breathing dragons. Harle- 
 quin, who is an attendant on Jason, threatens Medea with a pistol, 
 and is transformed by her into a nightstool. 
 
 Charles XII. before Friedrichshall comes on announcing his 
 pedigree and position. " Mighty dihposer of the unbounded earth ! 
 who am I? Lord, thy servant. Yet allow me to state my lineage. 
 Charles XL, the son of Charles Gusiavus, to whom the Swedish 
 
T.te SUge. 2ul 
 
 throne was ceded by the renowned Queen Christina, was my father, 
 and my mama was Ulrica Eleanora, daughter of the king of Den- 
 mark, who married Sophia Amelia, a princess of Brunswick 
 Liineberg; and the said Ulrica Eleanora had issue on June 19, in 
 the year of Grace 1682, between seven and eight in the morning, 
 to the universal joy of the Swedish realm — Me ! " 
 
 Velthen's company had broken up. One of his company 
 obtained the degree of Doctor at Vienna for his proficiency in 
 chemistry, another became Eector at Eiga. But the widow did 
 her best to keep a troupe together. She had not the abilities of 
 her husband, and though she continued to play sacred dramas and 
 tragedies, her stage was all but monopolised by buffoonery. 
 
 One of Velthen's company, Elenson, died in 1708, as court 
 actor to the Duke of Mecklenburg. He was so admired by the 
 Elector of Koln, that on his death the archbishop commemorated 
 the merits of the actor and his own wit on a marble monument at 
 Langenschwalbach : — 
 
 Hie jacet et tacet qui stabat et clamabat. 
 
 Ludens Comoediam finit Tragcediam. 
 
 Viator, ora et la bora 
 
 Ut ultima hora sit tibi Aurora. 
 
 Julias Franciscus Elensen 
 
 Priuzipal Hnchfiirstlich Mecklenburgisclier Hofcomodiant. 
 
 SauCte Chrlste Dona el reqVIeM (mdccviii.). 
 
 Elenson's widow, a handsome broombinder's daughter, continued 
 the troupe, married the harlequin Haak, and on the coronation of 
 Charles VI. at Frankfurt in 1711, entered into competition with 
 widow Velthen, beat her, and forced her to leave the town. 
 
 In Berlin, the Elector Frederick III., first King of Prussia, 
 held the actors in high esteem, and attended German plays as well 
 as the Italian Opera and the French theatre. But Frederick 
 would not tolerate excessive burlesque. In 1692, when the " Pro- 
 digal Son " was being acted before him, and Hans Wurst began 
 his low buffoonery with some saints and devils, the King rose and 
 left the theatre with his suite. 
 
 The close-fisted Frederick William I. put down the Italian • 
 Opera and French theatre, but favoured the German stage, which 
 exhibited tight-rope dancing, tumbling, and pantomime. He hated 
 everything French, and ordered an eminently anti-Gallic piece, 
 
262 
 
 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 " The Marquis dismissed with Blows," to be frequently enacted. 
 From the " Memoires of the Margravine of Baireuth " we learn how 
 intolerably tedious and tasteless such performances were to those 
 of the court who had received French education. Lady Montagu 
 was present at a play in the Court Theatre at Vienna in 1716. 
 It was on the fable of Amphitryon, burlesqued. It opened with 
 Jupiter- falling to earth out of a cloud, and ended with the birth 
 of Hereules. Jupiter was the wag of the piece ; he defrauded 
 a banker of his money, a tailor of a suit of clothes, and a Jew of 
 a diamond ring. Lady Montagu says that the play was so charged 
 with vulgarities and indelicacies that it would not have been 
 tolerated at an English fair, whereas the coarsest jokes drew 
 applause from the boxes, and the whole piece was regarded by all 
 parties as a masterpiece. 
 
 We can form some idea of the degradation to wh'ch the stage had 
 fallen when we look at the tariff of payments made to performers 
 of the Court Theatre at Vienna under Maria Theresa, about 1750. 
 
 This was the scale of payments : — ■ 
 
 For every flight into the air . . . 
 jump into the water 
 
 „ over a wall or down a rock 
 transformation 
 cudgelling (passive) . 
 box in the ear or kick . 
 
 >» 
 n 
 » 
 
 Fl. 
 
 Kr 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 34 
 
 
 34 
 
 When cudgelling, kick, or clout was returned, no charge could be 
 made; the gratification of repaying it cancelled the claim. 
 
 Kr. 
 
 For every bruise received 34 
 
 
 sousing with water ...... 34 
 
 sword fight, each combatant . . . .34 
 
 On Saturday the actor brought his bill to the Imperial cashier. 
 Some of these have been preserved. Here is a specimen : — 
 
 This week 6 airs sung . . , 
 1 flight into the air . 
 1 plunge into water . 
 1 sousing with water , 
 received 2 cuffs on the ear 
 lkick 
 
 » 
 
 >! 
 M 
 » 
 fl 
 
 Fl. 
 
 Kr. 
 
 6 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 34 
 
 1 
 
 8 
 
 
 34 
 
 Total 9 7G 
 Received with profound gratitude, 
 
 J. H. 
 
The Stage. 2G3 
 
 When Moliere was blamed fur having allowed himself to receive 
 a blow when acting the part of Sganarelle, he answered, " It was 
 not I, but Sganarelle, who was struck," but here each actor eagerly 
 claimed the insult, and demanded nothing better than to be kicked 
 and cuffed and cudgelled, as it raised the total of his receipts on 
 Satui'day. 
 
 Our Christmas Pantomimes, and the representations at a circus 
 of " The Tailor of Brentwood," etc., are sole relics among us of a 
 type of performance which never obtained complete possession of 
 the English stage, but which reigned absolutely in Germany. 
 The clown was an essential element. He went by many names, 
 Hans Wurst (our Jack Pudding), Pickelherring, Jampatsch; the 
 Italian Harlequin, Pantaloon, Leander and Columbine were added, 
 and the attractions of the play consisted in marvellous transforma- 
 tions and broad jests. In a favourite piece, " Spirito folletto," 
 oranges on trees changed into letters, a bottle yielded alternately 
 red and white wine, out of a pasty bloomed a sunflower, and the 
 flower when cut off resolved itself into a lady's head. 
 
 No play, however sacred or tragic, was tolerated without Hans 
 Wurst to enliven it. In the most blood-curdling scenes, the clown 
 in one corner was diverting the attention of the audience by his 
 buffooneries. 
 
 The stage had shaken itself free from the Reformed Church ; 
 and the clergy changed their estimate of it. In England, the 
 Parliament, in 16-12, forbade theatrical performances. But German 
 Protestantism was not Puritanical. The first system of moral 
 theology drawn up for the Lutheran Church by Johann Conrad 
 Diirr in 1662 is the first to give a just estimate of the dramatic art. 
 St. Thomas Aquinas had pronounced the profession of an actor as 
 not in itself sinful, Diirr proclaims it noble. He is not a negative, 
 but a positive approval. He declares that the profession is lawful, 
 as the actor is employing a natural, divine-given talent for a useful 
 and praiseworthy purpose, — the representation of men's manners 
 and fortunes, the expression of the beauty of virtue and the hate- 
 fulness of vice. The stage is a great moral educator, it is in its 
 way as sacred as the pulpit. It is even more effective as a teacher, 
 and may be as useful to society. The drama is lawful as long as 
 it holds to this ideal, it is only unlawful when it panders to low 
 tastes and vulgar passions. Diirr goes on to say that an actor's 
 
264 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 professional training is calculated to do liim good morally and 
 mentally. His memory is educated, his manners refined, a polish 
 is given to his thoughts, his speech, his intercourse with others. 
 
 But the vagabond bands of " English Comedians " had taken 
 the stage out of control. It was different when pieces were per- 
 formed by the guild of master-singers or the pupils of a school. 
 Now the actors appealed to the vulgar, and were unscrupulous 
 what they provided so long as spectators were brought to their 
 booths, and they could reap a harvest of groschen. " Go on, boy," 
 says the puppet player in Don Quixote, " and let folk talk, for so I 
 fill my bag, I care not if I represent more improprieties than there 
 ai - e motes in the sun." As long as the strollers were men and 
 boys, the magistrates were tolerant of their extravagances, but 
 when women associated themselves Avith them, and appeared on the 
 boards, the councils of the various towns forbade their reception 
 into the houses of the biirgers. They became a sort of outlaws, 
 living only in taverns, and forbidden association with the respect- 
 able classes. This did not tend to their elevation. It is curious 
 that the first direct attack against them on the part of the clergy 
 was made in Hamburg, in the town in which several of the pastors, 
 Riest, Johann Koch, Johannsen, and Elmenlmrst, had written for 
 the stage. Anton Reiser, Pfarrer of St. Jacob, wrote against the 
 opera in 1681. Thereupon Pastor Winkler composed a treatise in 
 its defence. In 1688, Pastor Elmenhorst, himself a dramatic 
 writer, published his " Dramatologia antiquo-hodierna," in vindi- 
 cation of the stage. In 1693 the theological faculties of the Lu- 
 iheran universities of Rostock and Wittenberg decided that operas 
 on Biblical subjects weie not objectionable, and that the Lord's 
 Supper was not to be denied to actors in them. But when Velthen 
 was dying, a Hamburg pastor refused to give him the Sacrament. 
 In Berlin, under the influence of the pious but prejudiced Spener, 
 some pastors rejected actors from the communion table, but the 
 Elector, Frederic V., as their spiritual head, being a great friend of 
 the stage, read them a sharp lecture and ordered them at once to 
 give the Sacrament to the players. King Frederick I. gave open 
 token of his respect for the profession by standing sponsor alon 
 with his Queen at the font to the daughter of the actor Uslenzki, 
 in the very church of which Spener was provost. 
 
 A still more decided step was taken in 1745 by Frederick II. 
 
 S 
 
The Stage. 
 
 
 c. 
 
 rBIR-A. 
 
 ^ 
 
 205 
 
 At the instigation of the Pastor Frank, the university of Halle 
 requested that a company of actors might not he allowed to per- 
 form in the town. The King wrote peremptorily, " Enough of 
 this pack of bigots (Muckerpack). The actors shall perform, and 
 Herr Frank, or whatever the rogue (Scliurlce) calls himself, shall 
 assist at the entertainment, to make open reparation before the 
 students for his foolish remonstrance. And an attest ition to this 
 effect shall be sent me, that I may be satisfied that he has been 
 present." 
 
 When dramatic art was at its last gasp, a pedant and a woman 
 were its saviours. 
 
 Frederica Caroline Weissenborn was the daughter of a prac- 
 tising solicitor at Zwickau. She was born in 1692 at Reichenbach. 
 Her father was a widower, harsh, pragmatical, and gouty. He 
 little understood the character of his child. We know nothing of 
 her youth, of how the artistic faculties of her soul were quickened 
 and fed. She suddenly comes bef »re us at the age of twenty-six, 
 when, to escape a beating from her father, she jumped out of a 
 window, and was only saved from death by falling into a hedge. 
 She never returned home, but fled to Weissenfels with a young 
 man named Johann Keuber, who was warmly attached to her. At 
 Weissenfels they were man ied, and there joined a strolling band of 
 players under Spielberg, a disciple of Velthen. Neuber was never 
 other than a third-rate actor, but he was an intelligent and true- 
 hearted man. When Caroline Weissenborn married him, she 
 acquired an indefatigable assistant and a devoted husband. But 
 the genius of the Neuberinn, her higher culture, her inexhaustible 
 energy of character, distinguished her above all her associates 
 Her husband shines with but a reflected light. The Neubers soon 
 left Spielberg and joined the troupe of the widow Elenson, now 
 married to a third husband, Hoffmann, and associated with the best 
 actors of the period. Whilst the company were at Dresden, Han- 
 over, and Brunswick, Frau Neuber took the opportunity to attend 
 French plays. Her cultivated taste told her at once how va-tly 
 superior they were to the sad rubbish performed on the German 
 stage ; and she was the first to perceive the advantages of Alexan- 
 drine verses for tragic declamation. She played in " Roderic " and 
 " Ximenes," adapted from Comeille, and in the " Regulus " of 
 Pradon. At the same time she showed great comic liveliness, and 
 
 T 
 
 
206 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 acted frequently dressed in men's clothes. A strange transforma- 
 tion in ideas ! Fifty years had not elapsed since female parts were 
 acted by hoys, and now it was haut gout for women to take the parts 
 of boys. 
 
 When the widow Elenson died, the Brunswick court gave the 
 Neubers the management of the theatre there. They brought out 
 " Eugulus," " Brutus," " Alexander," and the " Cid." The applause 
 these adaptations received encouraged the daring woman in her 
 resolution to devote her life to the regeneration of the drama. For 
 this purpose she organised a company of her own, after her own 
 heart — elect spirits from widow Elenson's band, and di.sciples 
 trained by herself. With this troupe she came to Leipzig for the 
 great Easter fair in 1727. There she met a man whose ambition 
 and passion was the development of the German language and 
 poetry — a man who had long chafed at the unworthiness of the 
 stage in his own land. The ambition of one inflamed the enthu- 
 siasm of the other. The Neuberinn promised to do her utmost to 
 give back to the stage its dignity, and purge it of the blood and 
 filth which stained it, if she were seconded by literary men who 
 should restock her repertoire. Gottsched, this Leipzig pedant, 
 obtained for her a concession to play in Saxony, and thenceforth, 
 for ten years, Leipzig was the centre from which the Neubers 
 made their excursions to Dresden, Brunswick, Hanover, Hamburg, 
 and Niirnberg. Gottsched was not a poet, or a man of original 
 conceptions. He was not calculated to be the Shakspeare of the 
 German drama. The utmost he could do was to translate, and 
 recast old material. As he and the Neuberinn worked together, 
 their ideas expanded, and their enthusiasm was shared by other 
 members of the company. The task they had undertaken was not 
 light, Gottsched desired a total revolution. The plots of the old 
 plays were regardless of time and space. They had to be subjected 
 to the rule of Aristotle, and brought to a treble unity of scene, 
 period, and treatment. Proportion must be introduced into the 
 lively medley of dialogue and song, of tragedy and burlesque. 
 Improvisation must be given up. The dialogue must be cast into 
 rhyme, and move with stately swing. The Neuberinn was herself 
 a ready extemporiser, and had an untrained memory. To the end 
 of her days she found unusual difficulty in learning her parts 
 correctly. Her companions had been brought up under Velthen's 
 
The Stage. 267 
 
 lax method, and found it hard to abandon improvisation and chain 
 themselves to a text. But, nevertheless, Frau Neuber carried out 
 exactly what she had undertaken. She was satisfied that Gottsched 
 was right, and followed his direction with alacrity. 
 
 The artistic association of Gottsched and the Neuberinn is one 
 of the most weighty and eventful moments in the history of the 
 development of the German drama. Now once more literature was 
 called to aid ; the schism between the stage and poetry was healed. 
 The Neuberinn held out her hand across the gulf, with humility, 
 and cried to the literary world to come to her assistance. 
 
 Frau Neuber was by nature chosen to carry out her under- 
 taking. Keen-sighted, daring to defiance, energetic to violence, 
 active to restlessness, persistent to stubbornness, she was far 
 removed from greed of gain or craving for applause. She lived fur 
 an ideal, and to that ideal she was ready to sacrifice everything. 
 She had the good fortune to associate with her men of no ordinary 
 talent, the most remarkable of whom was Koch, a clever actor and 
 scene-painter. It was not only the elevation of the drama that 
 this remarkable woman sought, she sought also to recover for her 
 profession the respect it had forfeited. And that this might be 
 regained, the members must learn to respect themselves. Like a 
 practical woman, she began her reformation with the members of 
 the troupe under her own hand. She insisted on frequent and 
 careful rehearsals, the more necessary, as under Velthen's system 
 rehearsals had fallen into disuse. She brought order and respect- 
 ability into the company arrangements. The unmarried actresses 
 lived with her, they became her adopted daughters. She cared for, 
 watched and directed them, as though they were her own children. 
 The unmarried actors dined at her table. And this arrangement, 
 which she first instituted, survives to the present day among the 
 strolling companies in Germany. Her plan was economical, but 
 it was not for economy that she adopted it; it was because she 
 was determined to emancipate her profession from public-house 
 haunting, and to bring about community life in the company. She 
 tolerated no idle flirtations ; if an actor and actress appeared 
 attached, she watched them with Argus eye, and unless there was 
 an engagement, put a stop to the matter peiemptorily. The 
 women worked with scissors and needles at the costumes, the men 
 at scene-painting, cop^ ing the parts, or organising the mechanism. 
 
2G8 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 By degiees a sort of family life grew up in the company, in which 
 each followed his special avocation, and all felt an interest in one 
 another. In a word, this patriarchal life of the hand, encouraged 
 by burger exclusiveness, which refused the player access to their 
 houses, became the nursery from which the modern German pro- 
 fession has grown, and conquered the respect of noble and burger 
 aliko. The repertoire was next overhauled. It took a long time 
 to get up the Alexandrine tragedies, and even when the difficulty 
 of learning them was overcome, the Neuberinn found that the 
 public, accustomed to burlesque and blood-curdling horrors, had no 
 taste for classic compositions. 
 
 It was in Hamburg, in 1730, that she ventured on the first 
 production of the tragedies. " The verses please," she wrote to 
 Gottsohed, " but there are complaints made of their obscurity. 
 One must have patience : with time taste will grow." She found 
 it necessary to tack a farce on the tail of a tragedy, and play 
 burlesques on alternate nights to attract and fill her house. 
 
 Next year at Hamburg, her hopes seemed likely to be realised. 
 She wrote, " Our comedies and tragedies are tolerably well 
 attended. The trouble we have taken to improve taste has not 
 been quite thrown away. I find here various converted hearts. 
 Persons whom I had least expected, have become lovers of poetry, 
 and there are many who appreciate our orderly artistic plays." 
 
 From Hanover the Neuberinn wrote : " Here I have found 
 better appreciation of German tragedies than might have been 
 anticipated. During the last few years, there have been many 
 comedians here, amongst them the renowned harlequin Muller. 
 These gave the Hanoverians su<di a glut, that at first the people 
 came only in driblets to our performances. But when we began 
 our metrical comedies and drew on our new costumes, matters 
 mended. The Geheimriithe were the first to appear, and as they 
 were pleased, the nobility and gentry followed, and now every one 
 comes to see the novelty. But the general public, fed on the 
 unwholesome diet provided by former comedians, do not take to 
 our performances, which are ungarnished with indelicacies." 
 
 From Niirnberg, in 1731, Neuber wrote: "As we play only 
 twice a week, and the bad weather may spoil an evening, I have 
 waited some time before writing, so that I might have leisure to 
 ascertain whether the people here are to be won to a taste for our 
 
The Stage. 2G9 
 
 plays. At first no one would hear of a comedy all in verse. But 
 now the patricians are, I trust, won. Our first piece was " China," 
 and fortunately the translator, Herr von Fiihrer, was one of the 
 audience; and as he is castellan and principal councillor, and lives 
 up at the Castle, his word goes fur much. This patriot has done 
 wonders for us by his applause, and the Niirnbergers show a 
 decided inclination to favour the Leipzig verses. But what dis- 
 tresses me most is that we have not enough pieces of the sort." 
 
 This was precisely the great difficulty. This was the burden 
 of every letter. Whatever pains Gottsched took to translate and 
 adapt, the results were small. As written, the plays were sent to 
 the Neubers, act by act, and committed to memory. From not 
 having enough new comedies and tragedies, the Neubers were 
 "obliged to fall back on the old stock, but they recast the plays, cut 
 out what was unsuitable, improved the dialogue, and ruthlessly 
 removed ever}' allusion offensive to delicacy. How small was the 
 result of the literary labours of Gottsched and his fellow-workers 
 may be judged from the fact that the Neubers had only twenty- 
 seven of the new plays in their repertoire between 1727 and 1740. 
 Of these, fifteen were translations, the rest rearrangements. The 
 Neuberinn herself took pen in hand, and wrote comedies, farces, 
 and preludes. Lessing says of her compositions, " One must be 
 very prejudiced not to allow this famous actress a thorough 
 knowledge of her art. She had masculine penetration, and in 
 one point onby did she betray her sex — she delighted in trifles. 
 All plays of her composition are full of disguises and pageants, 
 wondrous and glittering. But, after all, she may have known the 
 hearts of the Leipzig burgers, and put these in, from a desire to 
 please them, as flies are caught with treacle." 
 
 "Frau Neuber took great pains to have good costumes, and 
 went as far as her means allowed her in making them rich and 
 suitable. She would have no tinsel, and crowns and armour of gilt 
 paper. By a stroke of policy in 1728 she began her performances 
 at Leipzig with the " Eegulus " of Bressand, translated by von 
 Konig, master of ceremonies at Diesden. Von Konig, to help out 
 his poor translation, sent her the requisite costume from the royal 
 garde-robe. The magnificence with which she was able to put the 
 "Eegulus" on the stage, and the report carefully circulated by 
 Gottsched that the court was interested in the Neuberinn's reform, 
 
270 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 caused the li mse to be crowded, and attracted attention to her 
 undertaking. Otherwise costume followed the received tradition. 
 The three classes of Home, Turk, and modern costume were 
 retained, but the two first were poorly represented, and eked out 
 from the third. The powdered coiffure and hoop-petticoats with 
 women, knee-breeches and buckle-shoes for men, were de rigueur at 
 least for the chief personages, and Kohlhardt appeared alike as 
 Cato and as King of Cockayne with powdered wig, ruffles, and a 
 three-cornered hat. Attitude was not natural any more than were 
 the speeches. The body was bent in graceful postures : only one 
 foot was allowed to rest on the ground, the other was poised on the 
 toe : the arms Avere bowed in studied curves ; there was much of 
 " Ah ! " and " Oh ! " of turgid rhapsody and tedious soliloquy. But* 
 a great stride had been taken ; the stage had acquired dignity, the 
 drama had been lifted from the dust, brutality was exchanged for 
 baroque, indecency for high-flown courtesy. 
 
 Gottsched's services deserve recognition as well as those of 
 Frau Neuber. He reduced the chaos of dramatic composition to 
 order, and divided the elements and set each its proper place. His 
 stiff-necked determination to subject the drama to the rules of 
 beauty and proportion, as he understood them, was as invaluable 
 as the perseverance and self-devotion of Frau Neuber in carrying 
 out his theories. He had the literary power and dogged resolution 
 to lay down his theories as irrefragable laws ; his diplomatic 
 cleverness acquired for him an artistic dictatorship in literary 
 circles, and none belonging to polite society dared to dissent from 
 his views. His influence engaged writers of talent in the service 
 of the stage. All poetry in a dramatic form that appeared till 
 1750 issued from Gottsched's school at Leipzig. He brought Elias 
 Schlcgel's youthful productions into notice. His exhortations in- 
 spired Gellert to write dramas, and Gellert was the first to bring 
 the genuine German tone back to the dramatic art. It is true that 
 Gottsched was a representative of baroque formalism, that his 
 reform was along fabe lines, in the direction of affectation, not of 
 nature; but it was a reform in the interests of civilisation. 
 
 But, when all is said for Gottsched, the largest measure of our 
 gratitude and respect remains to be meted to Frau Neuber. It 
 cost Gottsched nothing to start his theories, but on her fell the 
 labour and risk of carrying them into execution. It was her puise 
 
The Stage. 271 
 
 ■which suffered, her popularity which was affected. It was she 
 who fought the battle and received the blows, whilst Gottsched 
 directed from the safe and serene heights of his library. She lived 
 on the people, her bread was dependent on their favour, and yet 
 she had to take from them what they most prized and give them 
 that for which they had no appreciation. Eveiy sacrifice she 
 made of the foolish, bloody, and obscene — of what was popular — 
 cost her money and the favour of the people. She knew it ; she 
 was well aware that she might have doubled her receipts by 
 stooping to please low tastes, but she was too noble, too con- 
 scientious, too true, ever to sacrifice what was right to sordid 
 interest. 
 
 In 1731 the Neubers wrote to Gottsched from Niirnberg : — 
 " Probably we should have earned many more thalers if we had 
 played only the tasteless fashionable pieces. But now that we have 
 undertaken what is good, we will not forsake the path so long as 
 we have a penny. Good must continue good." 
 
 In 1733 the privilege of the Neubers to play in Saxony expired, 
 and the King, instead of renewing it, made it over to the harlequin 
 Midler and his band. In vain did the Neubers remonstrate, and 
 offer to give to Miiller exclusive right to play all burlesques. " Our 
 efforts," they wrote, " have been incessant to subject all our repre- 
 sentations to the strictest morality, to avoid vapid foolishness and 
 indelicate double-entendres. Our aim has consistently been to 
 educate and raise the taste of the masses, and not to make the 
 stage a means of evoking the immoderate laughter of the vulgar." 
 It was all in vain. The Neubers and their troupe were turned out 
 of the theatre in Leipzig to make way for harlequin Hans Wuist 
 and the blood and filth from which they had washed it. 1 
 
 The Neubers went from town to town, meeting with some 
 support, but with a thousand contrarieties, attacks from friends of 
 tlio old style, the indifference of the public, and with consequent 
 deficiency of means. They found one protector, Duke Charles 
 Frederick of Schleswig-Holstein. In 1736 he gave the Neubers a 
 patent as court actors, and an annual subsidy of 1,000 thalers. So 
 great, indeed, was his liking for their performances, that on more 
 
 1 Smollet, in Peregrine PicMe, describes a performance in the theatre at 
 Amsterdam, where the jests of Harlequin or Piekelherring were of the grossest 
 n..ture. These obscenities, when banished Germany, took refuge in Holland. 
 
'27'2 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 than one occasion he appeared with the company on their boards. 
 But the Ducal subsidy could not keep them wholly above water. 
 In May 1736, Neuber wrote from Liibeck : — " We must be content 
 to carry on our undertaking as best we may, and that is poorly. 
 Every one must see that we would gladly dp good if we were 
 able, and that it is only shortness of means which impedes us. 
 But it cannot be helped; we do our utmost, and wait on time and 
 luck." 
 
 But luck did not come; and as it proved unpropitious, the Neubers 
 became the more stubborn. Urged on by Gottsched, they resolved 
 by an open manifestation to show their irrevocable breach with 
 pantomime. Gottsched was impatient because improvisation was 
 not wholly abolished. The root of the evil lay in harlequin, that 
 merry -andrew whose jokes tickled the multitude, and whom they 
 regarded as an essential element in every play. lie appeared in 
 the sacred drama and in the tragedy; no moment was too solemn, 
 no situation too supreme, not to be marred by his unseasonable 
 and inappropriate jests. If the people did not always exact the 
 chequered tights and spangles, they demanded the merry-andrew 
 — at Vienna under the green hat of a Salzburg clown, elsewhere, 
 in white and scarlet. Gottsched exhorted the Neubers to wholly 
 suppress this vulgar and disturbing element. They resolved on 
 doing so by a characteristic theatrical exhibition. It was in 
 October 17-'>7, and their booth was at Hamburg. A suitable 
 piece was played, in which a figure dressed up as a harlequin was 
 brought up for trial, and all his outrages on decency and artistic 
 proprieties were charged against him. He was sentenced to 
 execution ; a pyre was raised, and he was committed to the flames. 
 
 The demonstration had been ridiculed. Lessing calls it " itself 
 the grealest harlequinade;" but it was the demonstration of a 
 serious purpose, from which the Neubers never swerved, though it 
 cost them their popularity, and brought them to ruin. 
 
 Many years ago, when English musical taste was in the 
 depths, Julien attempted its education. With his band he 
 performed a few classic pieces, interspersed with noisy rubbish of 
 the modern French school. The ear of the vulgar was caught 
 with the rubbish, and tolerated the good music. Little by little 
 the musical faculty acquired a power of distinguishing between 
 good and evil, and then what was worthless became distasteful, 
 
The Stage. 273 
 
 and the classic music was approved. But had Julien begun with 
 the latter onlj*, he would have disgusted, not have drawn. His 
 performances would have pi eased a few connoisseurs, not have raised 
 the taste of the masses. The Neubers erred in banishing harlequin 
 before the vulgar were trained to find his pranks distasteful, and 
 they felt at once the consequences. Hitherto their dramas had 
 pleased a cultivated circle : the people had crowded to their 
 come<lies, wherein harlequin cut his jokes. And it was on the 
 people's groschen, not on the thalers of the men of letters, that 
 the company had lived. The Neubers had burnt harlequin, as 
 Cortez did his ships, and retreat was impossible. En avant was 
 their motto, cost what it might. The audience } awned at the 
 Alexandrines, and clamoured for a pantomime ; for the old loved 
 "Harlequin, the Living Clock," "The Man with Two Heads," 
 and the like. In vain did Frau Neuber compose and introduce 
 farces after her tragedies, in which the situations were laughable. 
 The people would not laugh at fun that came from no accredited 
 joker. They complained that tragedies were intolerable when not 
 relieved by the capers of a fool, and history was dry dust unless 
 : treated as burlesque. 
 
 In 1735, when Frau Neuber had been three-quarters of a year 
 in Hamburg, using every endeavour to recover her ground, and 
 gain the approval of the people for her " purified stage," she had 
 felt keenly her disappointment She was the object of ignoble 
 cabals, of jealousies, mean insinuations, and even open attack. 
 She gave vent to her indignation. The Hamburgers called her 
 proud and thankless. They expected her to accept the crusts 
 from their lavish tables with cringing humility. They would 
 have her the servant, not the guide, of public taste. She fell into 
 debt. Her enemies exulted. The headstrong choleric woman 
 [thought herself justified in telling ihe public her opinion. She 
 announced a prelude to her last performance for the season on 
 " The Condition of the Drama at all Seasons." The Senate had 
 wind of its purport, and forbade the performance. 
 
 In 1738, when she acted at Hamburg for the first time, she 
 had the triumph of performing in the opera-house, as the opera 
 had failed. But this circumstance helped on her downfall. It 
 idrew on her the hostility of the lovers of the dead opera. She 
 xmld not equal the attractions, the splendoar of the mise-en-scene, 
 
 T 
 
274 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 < f the opera ; she could not draw the multitude without harlequin. 
 She lost her first actress, Giindler, who retired from the stage. 
 With her usual energy, though she was aged forty-six, Fran 
 Neuher threw herself into the parts hitherto filled by Giindler, 
 and often acted two roles in the same piece. But the audience 
 sneered; she was too old for the part of first lady. In 1739 she 
 met Avith no better success. The house in Hamburg became 
 thinner and thinner. At the coffee houses, the friends of the opera 
 intrigued with the lovers of pantomime to make her ridiculous 
 by lampoon, and hurt her character by innuendo. 
 
 Schonemann, her old harlequin, deserted her, and organised a 
 new company, in which he might resume bis gambols and jests. 
 Eckenberg, a great Jack Pudding, set up his booth in rivalry and 
 drew crowds. The ruin of the Neubers seemed inevitable, when 
 the Empress Anna, on the recommendation of her Holstein 
 supporter, invited the troupe to St. Petersburg. 
 
 Here was help in the hour of need ! In the moment of exulta- 
 tion the embittered woman took a step which was as fatal as it 
 was indiscreet. She who, with untiring effort, at great sacrifice, 
 had lifted German art from the dungbeap, had met with the 
 recognition from a foreigner which had been denied her by her 
 countrymen. Now she could pay her debts, and defy the spite, 
 the ridicule, the persecution, with which she had been assailed. 
 She closed her last performance at Hamburg with an epilogue 
 composed by herself, and sufficiently remarkable to deserve an 
 extract. It began : — 
 
 My friends, have patience, now I charge my foeB ; 
 
 and then, after a few introductory lines, went on : — 
 
 Perhaps the days will come, 
 In which the world will weigh with equal scale 
 What we have tried t' become, and you have proved to be. 
 Go ! take you some Jack Pudding to your hearts, 
 Some clown from out a gutter, train him well, 
 . And make him wise with all your treasured store 
 Of science and of sense; and set him up to be 
 Your teacher and your pattern .... 
 For what's your life-long object? good to spoil. 
 Your chiefest wisdom ? innocence to stain ; 
 For innocence you know not, sirs, nor grow, 
 Nor cherish in your midst. Oh ! if she went, 
 
The Stage. 275 
 
 Poor Purity, a beggar through your streets, 
 And asked a crust and water at your doors, 
 What would she get ? . . . . 
 
 Whether the Hamburg audience heard her out may be doubted. 
 The indgnation she aroused was so general that the Seriate 
 cancelled her licence to play in the town. She was never after 
 able to appear in Hamburg. 
 
 In Russia she met with nothing but disappointment. The 
 
 opera was there in vogue, and no one cared for the drama. "When 
 
 her patroness, the Duchess of Conrland, died, she returned to 
 
 Germany, no richer than when she left it. Her sojourn in St. 
 
 Petersburg had been brief; it lasted but a year. She found the 
 
 soil in Germany not ready to receive her. Hamburg was closed 
 
 to her. To the Elbe reigned Franz Schuch, the harlequin. This 
 
 man in youth had been a friar in a Tyrolean convent. He ran 
 
 away from it, came to Berlin, and became an actor. His wife took 
 
 the part of Columbine. A cloister comrade, Stenzel, had escaped 
 
 his cell with him, and played with him on the boards the part of 
 
 Leander, the lover. Schuch and Stenzel were grave, honourable 
 
 men in private life ; but Schuch was transformed when he trod 
 
 i the stage. As he said of himself: " When he drew on the Hans- 
 
 Wurst jacket, the devil entered into him." But it was a merry, 
 
 harmless devil. He did his good work, for he purified stage 
 
 humour. Schonemann, as has been said, had formed a troupe of 
 
 * his own, and was supported by Gottsched, who had quarrelled 
 
 with the Neubers because they would not abandon a translation of 
 
 Voltaire's " Alzira " by Striiven, which they had read up, for 
 
 another made by Madame Gottsched. Kohlhardt, one of the best 
 
 actors in the company, died almost like Moliere, on the stage. 
 
 1 Everything went wrong with Frau Neuber ; and, in deep dis- 
 
 I appointment and distress, she broke up her company, and in 1743 
 
 went with her husband to Oschatz, where the Amtmann was their 
 
 : friend, and where she hoped a civil appointment might be obtained 
 
 : for Neuber. But this was also a failure. Next year she returned 
 
 1 to the battle-field, sounded the call, and the elite of her old 
 
 , attached company flew to her again — Koch, Heydrich, Lorenz, 
 
 Wolfram, bringing with them fresh adherents — the young and 
 
 i beautiful Kleefelder, and Schuberth. The Neubers at once entered 
 
 the field against Schonemann. It was the period when the craze 
 
270 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 for pastoral scenes and idealised rusticity had set in over Europe. 
 The Neubers introduced pastoral plays upon their stage with some 
 success. Gellert wrote for them the first attempt at the domestic 
 drama, " Die ziirtliche Schwester." It was performed by them in 
 1745. One might have expected that the star of the Neubers 
 would ascend again, that success would return, now that they had 
 touched and opened a new dramatic vein ; but it was not to be. 
 They had fulfilled their mission. It is a universal historic ex- 
 perience that in the advance of civilisation individuals are ruthlessly 
 cast aside as soon as they have accomplished the task set them. 
 Leaders of great movements are left broken on the path, and fresh 
 tools are taken up to carry on the work they began. 
 
 But one favour was accorded to Frau Neuber to link her life to 
 the most important moment in the development of her art. SKe 
 was allowed to introduce to the world that great man who was 
 destined to found German literature and the national drama, and 
 unite both in closest wedlock. Gotthold Ephraim Lessing, a 
 student of eighteen at Leipzig, brought her his first composition, 
 " The Young Savant" (1747). She recognised at once the promise 
 of genius, and brought out the piece on her stage. " Damon " and 
 " The Old Maid" speedily followed. 
 
 This was the last gleam that falls on the history of this re- 
 markable woman. In 1748 she lost Koch, Heydrich, and Lorenz, 
 called to Vienna, where the Court desired the reformation of the 
 theatre on her lines. Then her adopted daughter, the Kleefelder, 
 married and left her. The ever- faithful Suppig died. In 1750 
 her troupe broke completely up, and she and her husband wandered 
 about with a company of strolling players, as subordinates, per- 
 forming at fairs. The Seven Years' war brought that to an end, 
 and the Neubers found refuge with an honourable man at Dresden, 
 Dr. Leber, phvsician to the King, who gave them a little room in 
 his house free of rent. When Dresden was occupied in 1756 by 
 the Prussian soldiers, some were quartered in their chamber. She 
 was forced to live and sleep in the same room with the soldiers. 
 But her dignity maintained its rights. At the window stood a 
 little table, on which the old fallen couple continued their literary 
 labours. This table was respected by the soldiers ; not a pipe was 
 ever laid on it. Neuber sickened and died ; the soldiers helped to 
 carry him to his grave. During the bombardment of 1760 the 
 
/ 
 
 The Stage. 277 
 
 house was shelled and destroyed. Frau Neuber escaped with some 
 "members of the family of Dr. Lober to the village of Laubegast. 
 There she fell ill. The host would not hear of an actress dying in 
 his house, and her kind benefactors hired for her a lodging in 
 another cottage, and carried her to it. It was a little room, with 
 a window commanding the vine-clad hill of Pillnitz. The vines 
 were now cleared of grapes, save a few purple clusters net gathered 
 for the vintage, and the first frosts had touched the leaves crimson 
 and amber. Into this room the Neuberinn was brought from the 
 battles of theatrical life, persecuted by prejudice against her pro- 
 fession, seeking a coiner in which she might lay her head to die. 
 When the aged, God-fearing woman was carried in, overcome by 
 emotion, she fell on her knees, and stretching out her arms 
 towards the window, burst into the words of the Psalmist : " I 
 will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help. 
 My help cometh even from the Lord, who hath made heaven and 
 earth." There she died, not long after, on Saturday, November 30, 
 1760, about one o'clock in the morning. She was buried without 
 religious service in the cemetery at Laubegast. Her grave is hard 
 by the churchyard wall that runs along the Pirnau-road. Tradi- 
 tion adds that the pastor locked the graveyard gate against her 
 body, and to get it to its place of rest, the coffin was flung over the 
 wall. 
 
 Such was the end of a noble woman, who devoted her whole 
 life to the cause of art and morality — a woman who was an honour 
 not merely to her profession, but to her sex and country. The 
 stage has produced many martyrs, but she was the first. She had 
 an unbending will, but it was a will that would not bend because 
 conscience was its director. To the carrying out of a true con- 
 viction she sacrificed fortune, favour, success, counting the cost, and 
 submitting to pay it rather than descend from her ideal. If this 
 be not the true heroism of a Christian, I ask, what is ? 
 
 Frau Neuber had died in poverty, her work apparently a failure. 
 But it may be doubted if any serious work conscientiously carried 
 out is lost. " Shew thy servants thy work, and their children thy 
 glory," was the prayer of the psalmist, and prophetic of the ways 
 of Providence. The work of the Neuberinn was not lost. Actors 
 trained under her, Koch, Schonemann, Dobellin, and Ackermann, 
 became directors of the great companies which played in Germany 
 
278 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 when the Neuberinn was gone, and her traditions were not cast 
 aside. Six years after her death saw the last harlequin figure on 
 the N. German stage; and in 1769, Hans Wurst was banished from 
 the Viennese boards. On the outside of the theatre at Constance 
 is a curious painting of about 1770. It represents the triumph of 
 the dramatic Muses over the pantomime and burlesque, impersonated 
 by harlequin, Hans Wurst, pantaloon, and clown, who are being 
 precipitated into darkness by the radiant Muses — the whole a 
 parody of the fall of the angels before Michael. 
 
 Frau Neuber had raised the drama, but had not made it either 
 national or natural. She had sought inspiration in France, and 
 had transformed a creation of the popular life into a courtly orator. 
 If she had civilised a savage, she had also made him artificial. 
 Before the stage could reach the heart of the people, and fulfil the 
 task she designed it to execute, much she had taught must be un- 
 learned. The man who took up her unfinished work, and gave it 
 the impulse and direction it needed, whs Eckhof. 
 
 Konrad Eckhof was born at Hamburg in 1720, of poor parents. 
 He began his education as lamp-trimmer and candle-snuffer in* 
 Schonemann's theatre. When no one was in the house, and he 
 had done his work, the boy would set up coats and gowns in the 
 stalls, and act to them from the stage. He was a little man, high- 
 shouldered and bony, and with strongly accentuated features. His 
 only charm lay in his voice and eye, both capable of the most 
 subtle and varied expression. His unprepossessing exterior pre- 
 vented directors from engaging him at first, but when once he had 
 set his foot on the stage his power manifested itself, and in a few 
 years he was recognized as the first actor in Germany. Lessing 
 worked with him. It was Lessing's object to correct the affectation 
 of the French drama by an appeal to Shakspeare as the type of 
 true art. Eckhof was a careful and accurate student of nature. 
 Consequently, the poet and the player were admirably calculated to 
 work together. They released the drama from the golden but 
 cumbrous fetters of the rococo style, and gave it a healthy and free 
 life — gave it back to nature, but not to barbarism. Nicolai gives 
 an instance of Eckhof's dramatic power. He visited him in his 
 old age, along with Musams, and asked him to read them some- 
 thing. Eckhof chose a scene from i( Codrus," then that of the 
 meeting of Lusignan with his children, from " Zaire." And so, in 
 
The Stage. 270 
 
 dressing-gown and nightcap, with spectacles on his nose, seated 
 in his high-backed artn-chair, he produced intense artistic effe> t 
 upon his hearers, so that the tears rolled down their cheeks. Then, 
 springing out of his chair, aud flinging aside his dressing-gown, 
 he gave a scene from the " Bauer with an Inheritance " wit li such 
 comic power, " that scarce a trace could be distinguished of the 
 man of dignity and inner tenderness we had seen before. He was 
 the bauer all over, to the bowed knees, the up-drawn shoulders ; in 
 every muscle of the face and movement of the hand was the richest 
 comic expression." 
 
 Tales of Eckhof s power border on the fabulous. It is said that 
 when an Englishman, passing through Weimar, begged Eckhof to 
 give him a specimen of his reading, the actor declaimed to him the 
 German ABC with such variation of expression between the 
 pathetic, the heroic, and the ludicrous, that the Englishman alter- 
 nately wept, and bristled, and burst into uncontrolled laughter. 
 Lessing says of him, " Eckhof can play any part he chooses. In 
 the smallest, his ability as a first-rate actor stares you in the face. 
 One feels vexed that he cannot take every part simultaneously, and 
 then the performance would be perfection." 
 
 Eckhof is rightly regarded as the father of the German drama. 
 The work of Frau Neuber was negative, his was positive. She 
 freed the art from coarseness, but he made it German, and touched 
 the heart of the people. I have entered at such length into the 
 life of the Neuberinn, that I must only indicate the results of 
 Eckhof s labours without attempting a biography. 
 
 The first Court theatres in Weimar, Schwerin, and Goth a, the 
 first attempt at a national theatre at Hamburg, are associated with 
 his name. He fitly shares with Lessing the fame of having created 
 the German drama. One glimpse I must give of his private 
 character, to show how worthy a successor he was to the Neu- 
 berinn, and how good and noble were these two founders of the 
 modern dramatic pi-ofession. 
 
 If every work of art partakes somewhat of the personality of 
 its creator, how much more true must this be of the dramatic art, 
 in which creator and creature are one ? Eckhof never thought of 
 dissociating the man from the artist, and the artist from his work. 
 Thoroughly conscientious, he was persuaded that to be able to 
 take a noble part, the actor must be noble in himself; he must be 
 
280 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 able to feel the sentiments put into his mouth; he must be 
 virtuous and gonorous himself, or he cannot appreciate virtuous 
 and generous characters. A man may be many-sided, and able to 
 catch and caricature the infirmities of his fellows in their many 
 varieties, but unless the light of purity of purpose burns in his 
 heart, he cannot catch and copy the beauties of good lives equally 
 varied. So possessed was he with this idea, that for a quarter of a 
 year he lectured, in the dramatic academy he had founded, on the 
 necessity of the actor leading a high and moral life, to enable him 
 to become great in representations of noble characters. And the 
 religious sincerity with which he pursued his art made him carry 
 out in his own life the morality he preached on the stage, and 
 conquer in himself the passions and vices he denounced. He was 
 a devout and regular attendant at church, and after his death many 
 sabred poems and prayers were found among his papers. 
 
 Well has it been said of him, " The first great German actor 
 was an honourable and upright man, fearing God, in whom could 
 not be detected the absence of a single quality which is thought 
 to characterise a true Christian and a good citizen." For thirty- 
 eight years he reigned on the German stage, long enough to give 
 it its modern direction. The last role he played was that of the 
 ghost of Hamlet's father, and it was noticed that his last words on 
 the stage were, " Adieu, adieu ! remember me." 
 
 The Nenherinn and Eckhof, the founders of the modern drama, 
 were worthy representatives of a profession which has since earned 
 lor itself the respect and gratitude of the German people. 
 
 From this period the history of the drama and stage is one of 
 progress, scarcely interrupted. Under Schroder, Shakspeare was 
 translated and performed, and became a preponderating influence. 
 Leasing, Schiller, Goethe wrote. Wandering companies settled 
 down in the principal towns; and in 1776, under Iffland and 
 Baron Herbert von Dal berg, the first attempt was made to organise 
 a dramatic school for the profession at Mannheim. This remains 
 as the nursery to the German stage. At Mannheim, young actors 
 and actresses receive their training : it is a school for music, scene- 
 painting, mechanism, costume — in a word, for everything per- 
 taining to the dramatic art. 
 
 It is unnecessary for me to give further particulars of its 
 growth. The little streams had run together into a great river. 
 
The Stage. 281 
 
 The precarious existence of a disordered youth had acquired vigour 
 and gravity. Let us now look at the modern German stage. 
 
 In the spring of 1877, I was at Partenkirchen, in the Bavarian 
 Oberland. Opposite my windows was a little inn occupied by a 
 company, of strolling players. The attic of the tavern was the 
 theatre. Performance began at 6 p.m. with the director's little 
 boy going round the town with a drum rattling the roll-call. 
 Sight-seers fell in behind the drummer, and we streamed en queue 
 up the stairs into the garret. Reserved seats were sixpence, back 
 seats fourpence, and standing places one penny. The loft was 
 crowded to suffocation. An observer in the house opposite insisted 
 he saw our steam visibly issue from the louvre in the roof. Lasses 
 in white sleeves and laced bodices, matrons with beaver mitres, 
 jagers, and burgers, and bursehen of every degree, were there with 
 beaming faces and chattering tongues. The proscenium consisted 
 of newly planed deal boards, with a shield of paper on each side, 
 on which was painted a bunch of gentians, alpenrosen, and 
 edelweiss. The curtain was a sheet of brown holland, with a lyre 
 of gilt paper pasted in the centre. 
 
 The Partenkirchen band occupied a bench against the foot- 
 lights, and performed the double function of orche>tra, and easing 
 the curtain as it fell or rose, so as not to knock over the chimneys 
 of the paraffin lamps that served as footlights. The violoncello- 
 player was a raw hand, that roamed vaguely with the bow over 
 the strings, and threw in grunts at random. The chief forester 
 then came to the rescue, and from the reserve seats by me, 
 prompted the bass with his stentorian directions, " B — C — bah 
 Dummkopf! F — G!" etc. The manager's bell had tinkled, and 
 tongues were wagging, when, all at once, from the Church tower 
 tolled the Angelus. An instantaneous hush fell on the audience. 
 The orchestra stopped. Eveiy head was uncovered. It was still 
 in the theatre, as in the Church, at the Elevation. Then the bell 
 ceased, and as the tongues broke loose, the manager repeated his 
 signal, and up rose the brown-holland curtain. 
 
 The scene was pretty, if the proportions were not correct. 
 Alpine peaks, the Zugspitz with its glaciers, and a little blue lake, 
 the Blaue Gumpen, at its foot. On the left a chalet with a 
 window, from which a Tyrolese girl was leaning and singing. 
 Presently a distant jbdel is beard, and a young chamois-hunter 
 
-82 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 enters. He has come to the Aim to see his Maidle and tell her that 
 he has been drawn at the conscription and must off to the wars. 
 She fears for him: he scarce believes she will remain true to him. 
 Girls are giddy and love pleasure. How will she bear it to be 
 without a Bua to jodel with her on Saturday evenings, on the Aim, 
 and to attend her to the dance at Kermesse ? They part, and he 
 leaves with her his hunter's gun, and pouch, and hat, adorned with 
 the curved feathers of the Black Grouse. As he descends the 
 mountain-side she sings to him, and fainter sound his answering 
 calls; then tears choke her utterance, and the curtain falls on 
 her, praying that her Bua may be preserved in battle. 
 
 The second act takes place inside the chalet after the lapse of 
 three years. The Sennerinn is engaged churning, and she sings 
 and speaks to herself. On a nail hang the hat and gun and bag of 
 her old Schatz, religiously preserved. Presently it occurs to her 
 that on this very day three years ago, her lover had left her for 
 the wars, and leaving her churn, she goes to the window, and 
 leaning and louking wistfully forth, sings her old song 
 
 Auf der Aim, auf der Aim, ja da ist a Freud, 
 Auf der Aim da ist a Leben. 
 
 From far away comes the refrain jodeled back to her. She is 
 startled, and puts her hand to her heart. Presently her lad enters 
 in uniform. He has returned invalided, and discharged. The 
 meeting is pathetic. He has been wounded, but he has his pension 
 and his iron cross. He has been true to her, and she to him. 
 There hang his hat and pouch and gun, displaced by those of no 
 other hunter. He catches them from the nail, and shouldering his 
 little bundle retires. Whilst he is absent her full heart breaks 
 out. She kneels, and lifting her grateful hands to heaven, utters 
 a glad hymn of praise. Whilst thus praying he enters behind in 
 his old Tyrolean costume. But he removes his hat, and stands 
 still behind her with folded hands. Thanks and praise for happy 
 reunion to the source whence all blessings flows. And so the 
 curtain falls on them. What could have been simpler, and what 
 more touching? Two performers only, and a plot without a 
 tangle; a drama of every day. Two hearts loving, two hearts 
 parting, confiding each other to God, two hearts meeting and 
 uniting in the love of God. Perhaps it was due to the sweet 
 
The Stage. 283 
 
 simplicity and purity of the whole performance, as much as to the 
 fact that several of the airs in it came back to me, wafted from 
 boyhood from the lips of my mother, that I was more affected la- 
 this little play in a tavern attic than by anything I hove seen on 
 the best stage, always excepting Jenny Lee's incompa;able "Jo." 
 
 On another occasion we had '* Ida of Tannenburg, or Filial 
 Affection," for children, wherein, as a final spectacle, the wh le 
 company appeared in a red blaze of strontian fire, repeating in 
 unison, "Honour thy father and mother, that thy days may be 
 long in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee." Dining 
 my stay at Partenkirchen, I made the acquaintance of Herr Director 
 Stobe and his wife the Frau Directorinn. He and I climbed some 
 of the peaks together, and he gathered on the Krottenkopf the 
 first Alpenrosen of the year for her. She was gentle and lad \ - 
 like, engrossed in her children. The rest of the company consisted 
 of a stout Frau Hoffmann, who leaned out of her window the greater 
 part of the day in deshabille, with her head in an infinity of little 
 curl-papers, as though it were the pasturage of countless small 
 snails— smoking a long German pipe with a death's-head and cross- 
 bones painted on the bowl ; a first lady, a Fraiilein Seiche], who 
 smoked cigarettes; her mother, with a blind eye, who acted the 
 countess and royal parts ; and a grandmother, in pea.-ant costume, 
 who was prompter; also two young men— one a student of juris- 
 prudence of Tubingen, the other a candidate of Evangelical the- 
 ology at Heidelberg — who were trying the stage and their chances 
 with the fair Seichel, before committing themselves irrevocably to 
 the bar or the pulpit. 
 
 But what a change to the strolling companies of a century ago ! 
 What a difference in dramatic performance ! 
 
 There are now very nearly 3000 professionals in Germany, 
 exclusive of chorus in the opera and walking parties in a drama ; 
 exclusive also of all strolling companies, whose numbers are not 
 given in the " Deutscher Buhnen-Almanach." In Germany and 
 Austria there are 235 theatres — indeed, there is not a little town 
 without one ; but the season at each is not the same ; and one com- 
 pany will play alternate nights at two theatres in places not very 
 distant from one another. 
 
 At Aachen, for instance, the opera season is in the summer. A 
 travelling company plays at the principal provincial towns in 
 
2^4 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 Westphalia. The company in the Stadt Theatre at Hamburg per- 
 forins also in Altona during the season. The same company plays 
 at Karlsruhe in the winter, and at Baden-Baden in summer. One 
 company performs on alternate nights at Niirnberg and Bamberg. 
 In Berlin there are twenty theatres, in Potsdam three, in Hamburg 
 eight, in Munich, with a population of 170,000, there are four. 
 Hanover, with a population of 76,000, has two. 
 
 Of German acting, I cannot speak in very high terms : it is 
 wanting in delicacy and finish. German dramatic genius may do 
 well in tragedy : it is quite in its element in broad, vulgar comedy, 
 but it is entirely incapable of attaining to the ease and refinement 
 of the French stage. Of the artists I am glad to bring a better 
 report. They are quiet, respectable, educated persons, very often 
 surpassing in polish the best society in the town where they live; 
 they rarely forfeit the regard of the public by irregularities in their 
 private conduct. It is not uncommon for an actor or actress to 
 remain for many years established as a favourite in a town, and 
 the artist has access to all but the most exclusive society, is made 
 much of, and a kindly mutual attachment grows up between him 
 or her and the public. Should the artist leave, there is a farewell 
 at the railway station, at which troops of those who have applauded 
 from pit and box attend ; and the separation is sometimes not 
 unaccompanied with tears. A kindly, amiable folk — of course, 
 having their little rivalries and quarrels, but forming warm friend- 
 ships, and — curiously enough, the class most domesticated of all. 
 A German householder lives at his club, his Bierbrauerei, or his 
 tavern. He is never at home with his wife and daughters, but for 
 bed and dinner. But it is not so with the actor. He is too 
 migratory a bird to belong to any club, to become an ancient at a 
 brewery : consequently, he is driven to live at home. He spends 
 his time with his wife ; and at his home holds his merry gatherings 
 of fellow-artists with their wives. 
 
 I remember sitting in the second loge one evening, beside the 
 wife of a very wretched actor — a poor tenor, who was murdering 
 the part of Oberon in Weber's opera. She, not supposing that 
 I knew who she was, became most confidential on the excellences 
 of the performer. She pointed out beauties in his acting which no 
 one else saw, sweetness in notes which were pleasant to her ear 
 alone, and applauded vociferously when the partene hissed. Poor 
 
The Stage. 285 
 
 woman! with trembling hands she loaned forward, and flnng a 
 wreath upon the stage at his feet. A roar of laughter was pro- 
 voked, and the actor's eyes filled, but he looked up, caught his 
 wife's eye, and smiled. Was it a crime against art that 1 ever 
 after gave poor Oberon the loudest applause I could evoke with 
 palms and the ferrule of my umbrella ? Behind my house was a 
 nursery, and from the loqu icious old gardener I had the secret 
 history of many of the bouquets that were showered on the 
 actresses and singers. Every time the prima donna sang, there fell 
 at her feet a nosegay from her husband. It was astonishing how 
 many bouquets were given to the firemen to be cast on the stage 
 by actresses in kindly encouragement to one another. On one 
 occasion, when a souVrette had met with unmerited want of recog- 
 nition after a trying part, newly read, a shower of nosegays fell 
 about her, and every one had been purchased — and at a time when 
 flowers were costly — by her companions. 
 
 The profession is one that pays very fairly. 
 
 In a little town of, say, 25,000 people, the first tenor and first 
 female singers will get 900 marks a month each, say, from 20('Z. t<> 
 300Z. for the season. The principal actors will, however, receive 
 only 500 marks per month, or 150Z. for the season. During ihe 
 other six months they may be engaged for occasional summer per- 
 formances. This is nothing to what great singers and actors 
 expect in England; but then with us there is no provincial stage, 
 certainly no opera. 
 
 The theatres in Germany are either managed by the court, or 
 by the town, or belong to a company, or are private speculations. 
 Where there is a Besideuz, there will be a court theatre, supported 
 by Government. Even the little courts, as Cassel, Meiningen, 
 Sigmaringen, etc., have their theatres, receiving a subvention from 
 government. Where there are no princely residences, there are 
 town theatres, partly supported by the Bath, which appoints a 
 commission to determine the programme of performances, attend 
 and see that everything is conducted with decorum, and choose the 
 personnel for the season : an annual grant is made to the theatre by 
 the town from its funds. For instance, in the winter of 1877-8, 
 the Stadtrath of Freiburg in Baden gave a subvention of 18,000 
 marks or 900/. 
 
 That is a little town of nearly 25,000 inhabitants. Some par- 
 
280 
 
 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 ticulars of its theatre I will give, as an illustration. In 1806, by 
 the peace of Pressburg, Freiburg was made over to Baden. It had 
 previously belonged to Austria. The Baden Government at once 
 suppressed the religious houses in the town : among them, an 
 Augustinian monastery ; the church it converted into a theatre, 
 and the other buildings to various purposes, some connected with 
 the theatre, some not. The town council appoints a commission, 
 composed of gentlemen interested in literature and art, men of rank 
 in the town — the Burgomaster, the chief judge of the circuit, the 
 principal landed noblemen living in Freiburg, etc., and they are 
 wholly responsible for the conduct of the theatre. They appoint 
 the performers, choose the plays and operas, maintain good conduct 
 in the company, audit the accounts, etc. There is an opera com- 
 pany as well as a dramatic company engaged for the season. The 
 total cost of the theatre for the year is 4,500Z. ; but the season is 
 only from October 1 to March 31. Twice a week there are operas, 
 and twice a week plays, dramas, tragedies, and comedies. 
 
 The piices charged for places are the same for opera and for 
 play :— 
 
 Principal boxes (centre) 
 
 „ (side) 
 
 Stalls and parterre boxes 
 Upper-tier boxes . 
 Pit 
 
 Gallery (2nd tier) 
 Upper gallery . . 
 
 8. 'J. 
 
 2 6 
 3 
 
 
 G 
 2 
 
 
 from 4d. -Gd. 
 
 When the theatre is full in every part, the entire take is 501. 
 In the season the receipts amount to 3,500Z., or, on an average, 351. 
 a night. 
 
 Any one who would suppose that for this small cost the per- 
 formance would be poor, and the mise-en-seene inferior, would be 
 greatly mistaken. " For instance, I have heard " Faust " and 
 " Lohengrin " both at Drury Lane and at Freiburg, and certainly 
 scenery and general spectacle were quite equal on the little stage 
 to that in the English metropolis. There is not the lavish ex- 
 penditure, but there is taste ; the scenery and dresses are used again 
 and again for other operas, but they are good. Bale has a popula- 
 tion of 45,000 instead of 25,000, and its theatre is in no way 
 
The Stage. 287 
 
 superior. The opera at Gpneva is in every point inferior. The 
 winter of 1877-78, we had "Dor Freischiitz " for four nights at 
 Freiburg. It has been recently performed at Her Majesty's, where 
 I heard it, and in every particular, both of acting, singing, and 
 mise-en-schie, chorus excepted, the Freiburg performance was 
 superior. 
 
 The performance begins at 7 p.m., and the whole thing is over 
 about 9. Nobody goes dressed. Ladies can go without an escort. 
 Would that we had such cheap, wholesome amusements in every 
 provincial town in England ! I may mention here a few instances 
 of the way iu which the stage is kept healthy in tone. On one 
 occasion last winter, Madame Emile Girai din's " Lady Tartuffe " 
 was played. Like all French comedies it has its offensive points, 
 which come out in the last scene. The curtain fell amidst a 
 hurricane of hisses, and the play was never repeated. Strauss's 
 vulgar " Fledermaus " was put on the stage. The kissing chorus 
 in the second act gave such offence, that it had to be modified on 
 reproduction. In a little town in South Germany, where a travel- 
 ling company was performing, one evening a comedy was given, 
 which has had a great run in Berlin. It turns on the misadven- 
 tures of a Protestant pastor, who, in company with a doubtful 
 lady, that has attached herself to him in the street, goes into a 
 restaurant of bad repute, and there meets the Minister of Public 
 Worship. 
 
 The little town where this was performed was Catholic, and 
 the theatre was crammed. But the piece caused such universal 
 indignation, that, on the next performance of the company, there 
 were only six persons present. Berlin is by no means sqtieamish. 
 As Wagner's " Tristan " is performed at the Imperial Opera House 
 there, it is unendurable by any decent-minded person. The ladies 
 of neither the upper nor burger classes in the Prussian capital have 
 a fine perception of what is decent, and what is unfit for presenta- 
 tion ; but this is not the case in the south of Germany, where a 
 higher tone prevails. What will make a Saxon or a Prussian 
 laugh will make a Bavarian or a Badenserinn blush. 
 
 I wish that our playwrights, instead of drawing so liberally 
 upon French sources, would turn to German. They would find 
 there abundant and wholesome material. The comedies and farces 
 are rich in fun, and most numerous. Nothing can be better than 
 
288 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 Moser's "Stiftungsfest," " Hektor," and "Veilchenfrosser;" Topfer's 
 " Rosenmuller u. Finke," Midler's " Im Wartesalon I, Classe ; " 
 Putlitz,' "Schwert des Daraokles;" Benedix' "Die Banditten ; " 
 " Hnndert Tausend Thaler," " Mamsell Uebermuth," and a hundred 
 more. 
 
 Dramas are less easily adapted. " Das Anna-Lise," " Zopf u. 
 Schwerdt," " Die Frau Professorinn," and many others, are 
 charming. There is one little piece, I think, might well find 
 favour on a London stage. I should like to see it in the hands of 
 Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft at the Haymavket. I allude to the 
 " Adelaide " of Hugo Midler — a sketch from the life of Beethoven, 
 when deafness was creeping over him, a prey to his unsympathetic 
 landlady worrying the old man about his accounts, but attended 
 by her daughter, whose clear girl's voice penetrates his dull ears. 
 In youth Beethoven had loved an Adelaide, who was, however, 
 forced by her parents to marry an Italian count. As Beethoven is 
 lying down in the afternoon in an adjoining room, a lady in 
 mourning arrives : Lachner, the pupil of the great musician, is 
 then singing " Adelaide," a song composed by Beethoven, whilst 
 the girl Cliirchen accompanies him on the piano. This is the 
 original Adelaide, now a widow, come to offer herself and fortune 
 to the composer. The interview with the aged man, the recogni- 
 tion of his old love, his straining to catch her voice, and finding it 
 in vain, and then his refusal of her offer, forms one of the most 
 powerful scenes of refined pathos that an actor of ability would 
 desire to study. 
 
 But the melodrama has not as yet, in German y, obtained a 
 firm footing. Shakspeare is more acted on the stages in Father- 
 land than in England. Schiller's plays, it must be confessed, are 
 tedious on the stage ; the same must be said of Goethe's " Egmont." 
 We live in a transition period, when forms and fashions and ideas 
 are in a state of flux. There is much freedom, but not indepen- 
 dence, much culture, little originality. Every art exhibits want 
 of earnestness in its professors. The modern drama, like modern 
 architecture, is full of prettinesses, but is without character, is 
 imitative and not original, and where original, monstrous or 
 grotesque. We may take Charlotte Birch Tfeiffer as the represen- 
 tative of the modern drama. " Mutter Birch" was a genial, kindly 
 writer. " What I have written," she says of herself, " I have 
 
The Stage. 289 
 
 always written from a full heart." Ever healthy in tone, never 
 Commonplace in diction, spirited in action, ripe in interest, her 
 dramas have long been favourites with the public. Some of her 
 works can never die. The " Goldbauer " is as perfect in its delinea- 
 tion of character as it is spirited in the conduct of action. If the 
 English public could be induced to listen to, and take interest in a 
 melodrama, which is laid in Tyrol and not in Ireland, then the 
 'Goldbauer" is the piece for the Adelphi. But Birch l'feiffer 
 could never soar to be a leader of taste, she was forced to follow 
 the fashion and not to guide it. She has herself, in her kindly 
 sarcastic way, shown how a dramatist must accommodate himself 
 to passing humour, in her farce " How to fill a House." It is this 
 which makes Birch Pfeiffer a typical example of the infirmity of 
 purpose of the modern diama. 
 
 During forty years she went hand in hand with every changing 
 fancy of the day, turning from one style to another, as an architect 
 designs a house or town hall according to the rage of the moment. 
 The romantic school reigned from 1820-30, led by Fouque and 
 Tieck. Then Birch rfeiffer wrote " Walpurgisnacht," "Robert 
 the Devil," " Schloss Greifenstein," J " The Bell-Einger of Notre 
 Dame," '' Hinko the Freebooter," and " Heimer the Body-Snatcher." 
 But then the recoil after the Polish and French Revolution began 
 in Germany, manifest in a noisy anti-Gallic bluster and exaltation 
 of Teutonism. Birch Pfeiffer wrote " Carl the Great before Pavia," 
 •' Johannes Gutenberg," " Ulric Zwingle's Death." The public 
 applauded the representative heroes of Germanism. It was 
 grateful to the authoress for sparing it the trouble of doing that 
 which these heroes professed. It streamed out of the theatre 
 thinking it had done great things for Fatherland in applauding 
 the patriotic utterances of its Teutonic ideals. Then the fit 
 passed. The palate of the public was satiated with mock heroes ; 
 it asked for something simple, fresh from nature, and she wrote 
 " Stephan Laager, the Rope-Maker," and " Glazier Toni." But 
 when these country scenes no longer drew, when people, tired of 
 curds and whey, returned to oysters and champagne, then she 
 gave them the gojd burgerish drama, "Night and Morning," 2 
 " Mother and Son," " One Family." But this fashion did not last 
 
 1 All the first part is a mere recasting of the libretto of Euryanthe. 
 An adaptation of Bulwer Lytton's novel. 
 
 U 
 
29° Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 long. Thcro was something dull and drab in colour about citizen 
 life, fit material for comedy, not for melodrama. The itch for the 
 tinsel of baroque returned, and to please a blase public, she wrote 
 "The Marquise de Villettc," x "Anne of Austria," "Era Billet." 
 Rut these gay pictures and glimpses of gilded life pleased but 
 a short time a public which had been too recently oppressed 
 to support it in its extravagance. Revolution was simmering in 
 the witch cauldron of the future. The revolt of 1848 burst 
 upon Germany, which led to the destruction of the aristocracy. 
 To the cry of "Away with the ministry!" "Down with the 
 nobility!" "An end of privilege!" Birch Pfeiffer composed the 
 absurd drama, " Der Pfarrer," in which a countess, fired with 
 Kadical views, renounces her rank, privileges place at court, that 
 she may marry a Lutheran pastor, with a dunghill at his back- 
 door. 
 
 The public applauded uproariously the disgrace of the min- 
 ister, and renunciation of noble prerogative. But reaction 
 fallowed. German society thought it ha<l been a little precipitate 
 in blotting its gentry out of its account-book, and a sentimental 
 snzhina: over the disabled estate arose. So Birch Pfeiffer wrote 
 her " Magdala," and " Im Wald," full of daring innocence, purse- 
 proud shopkeepers, arrogant bauers, and dignified, suffering 
 aristocrats. 
 
 As a representative of the sensational dramatic composer, Hein- 
 rich Laube occupies a higher place. But in spite of artistic inten- 
 tion, and great genius, he is but Birch Pfeiffer on a grander scale. 
 Effect is the one thing for which he strives. He is brilliant, in- 
 teresting, but not poetic il. Somewhat earlier. Halm represented the 
 lyric drama. Halm (Baron Eligius von Miinch-Bellinghausen) 
 died in 1870, but he began to write in 18 54. His " Gri>ehlis " and 
 " Ein Sohn der Wildniss," etc. maintain their places on the German 
 stage. But he is a poet who veils the void of ideas with smooth 
 iambics. There is nothing in his plays to make them live. Be- 
 tween Laube and Halm stand Putlitz and von Eedwitz. "Das 
 Testament des grossen Kurfiirsten " of ihe former, and " Philippine 
 Welser " by the latter, are accepted favourites : they unite force of 
 situation to dignity of diction. " Ein Arzt von Granada," showed 
 
 1 A very graceful play, charming on the stage for its pictures as well as 
 situations. 
 
 
The Stage. 291 
 
 that Braehvogel was a true dramatic poet. In "Narcissus" he 
 proved his powers as a sensationalist. Unfortunately the demand 
 for sensationalism at all cost has produced a deteriorating effect on 
 even Mosenthal, the gifted author of "Deborah." Paul Lindau 
 represents the modern middle-class drama. Michael Bar's " Hund- 
 see " deserves mention. More numerous are the writers of 
 C'imedics. I have mentioned some. Wichert, Hacklauder, Bauern- 
 feld, are the names of other writers. Benedix is a healthy and 
 brilliant author. He strives to amuse, but always keeps a good 
 purpose in view. He has some better object at heart than merely 
 rilling the house and setting it in a roar. 
 
 In the comedies and dramas of the first half of this century the 
 prince sulved every entanglement in the plot. Of course the lovers 
 must be made happy ; and the prince appeared as the " Deus ex 
 machina," flung aside his incognito, unbuttoned his great coat, dis- 
 played his order, and the lovers rushed into each other's arms. 
 But mediatisation did away with a great many princes, and com- 
 mercial enterprise made money supreme. The prince disappeared 
 from the stage, and his place was taken by the uncle from America. 
 He pulls bags of dollars out of his pocket, notes from his book, 
 difficulties disappear before hard cash, and the lovers are made 
 happy. Then came the political convulsions of '48. The romantic 
 school arose. The American uncle became antiquated. The rope- 
 ladder formed a road to the hymeneal altar. Modern chemistry 
 discovered the poisonous qualities of carbonic acid. The lovers 
 work on the fears of the parents by threatening to commit suicide 
 by means of charcoal and a cooking stove. The hard-hearted 
 parent gives his blessing, and the young people are made happy. 
 But there is something rude in this method. It manifests no in- 
 vention, and is liable to pall. Consequently the new school of 
 dramatists have had recourse to other methods. Listening at 
 doors, peeping into letters, tampering with confidential servants, 
 deception, equivocation — such are the choice methods of circum- 
 venting obstructions. But the lovers must be made happy in each 
 other's arms; what does it matter how this result is brought 
 about ? 
 
 There is a difference between the Berlin and the Viennese 
 comedy which deserves notice. The fun in favour at Berlin is 
 that of persiflage, at Vienna of genial mirth. The former is the 
 
'202, Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 laughter of the l>lnse man of the world, who believes in nothing, 
 neither in religion nor honour and virtue in woman or man, holding 
 that of honesty 
 
 There's not a groin of it the face to sweeten 
 Of the whole dungy earth. 
 
 Viennese humour is the boisterous merriment of sunny youth, of 
 the student and the recruit, romp and rollick, genial and careless. 
 Berlin wit is purposeful, Viennese purposeless. The former is 
 stinging, wounding, the latter innocent and guiltless. The former 
 is witty, the latter humorous. The first has in it thought, the 
 latter poetry. 
 
 If there are no great modern tragedians, there are many who 
 are pleasing. Of these Felix Dahn deserves notice : he is an his- 
 torian, and his dramas are written with political purpose. "Konig 
 Roderick," which appeared in 1874, represents the battle of the 
 State againt the Church; "Deutsche Treue " (1875), the triumph 
 of the idea of Imperial unity over German particularism. In 1816 
 appeared Grillparzer's "Ahnfrau," which at once stamped the author 
 as a genius and a great dramatic writer. It was a strange weird 
 play of fatalism and supernatural elements. The high order of the 
 poetry, and the ability with which exciting situations were worked 
 up, made the play very popular. Unfortunately Grillparzer's next 
 adopted classic subjects, " Sappho," " The Golden Fleece," 
 'Medea," etc., in which modern sentimentality and lyrical pathos 
 in an antique setting somewhat jar on the taste. His finest pro- 
 duction was "The Fortune and Fall of King Ottocar" (1825). 
 Though wanting in strongly drawn historical characters, the 
 drama is full of merit and power. 
 
 Prince George of Prussia wrote under the name of Conrad, but 
 his tragedies have little merit. Hebbel deserves a word. His 
 tragedies are works of art, and the offspring of genius, but revolt- 
 ing and demoniacal. He is by far the greatest dramatic writer of 
 modern times, but also the most unfortunate. " Judith " appeared 
 in 1841 ; " Genoveva" in 1843 ; "Maria Magdalena," a tragedy of 
 common life, in 1844. A second series is composed of " Herod and 
 Mariamne," " Julia," " Michael Angelo," " Agnes Bernauer," and 
 "Gyges and his Ring." His last piece was "The Nibelungen," 
 1862. His tragedies as they succeeded one another seemed to 
 grow in power, but also in offensiveness. As he wrote he became 
 
The Stage. 293 
 
 bolder, but also more horrible and capricious. His moral pathos is 
 that of a Danton or Robespierre. 
 
 JVIosen's dramas are overweighted with the lyrical element : 
 there is too great play of diction, too little articulation of cha- 
 racter, too much subjectivity, to make them successful on the stage. 
 But the charm of poetic beauty, pure feeling, and noble purpose, is 
 there, elevating them above mediociity. One alone holds a place 
 on the stage, " Otto III." But the best tragedy after Schiller and 
 Goethe is "Uriel Acosta " by von Gutzkow, a most fertile and 
 versatile writer. Two of the best modern comedies are also by 
 him, " Zopf und Schwerdt " and " Das Urbild des Tartuffe." 
 
294 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE KULTURKAMPF. 
 
 Shal. What ! the sword and the word ! do you study them both, master 
 
 parson ? 
 Ecans. There is reasons and causes for it. , 
 
 Merry Wives of Windsor, act iii. sc. 1. 
 
 The old German Empire was built on a confederation of princes 
 and powers. It held together very loosely. The Emperor could 
 never iely on the princes for support, and the princes were ever 
 jealous of the authority of the Kaiser. Charles the Great, foreseeing 
 the danger to the Empire from the rivalries of the secular princes, 
 elevated some of the bishoprics into principalities under episcopal 
 soveieigns, trusting that these spiritual princes would stand by the 
 Imperial throne, and maintain its prerogatives against the seculars. 
 He looked to them as the peace-and-order-loving elements in the 
 constitution. But he left out of his calculation the fact that these 
 prelates owed a double allegiance, and that the King of Germany, 
 as head of the Holy Roman Empire and King of Italy, was liable 
 to be regarded with suspicion and jealousy by the Roman Pontiff, 
 the spiritual head of these bishops. 
 
 Throughout the Middle Ages the See of Rome pursued the 
 readily intelligible policy of undermining the Empire, of sowing in 
 its fields the tares of strife. It was the Papacy which sat under 
 the table of the Electois and cast the apple of discoid into their 
 midst ; it was the Papacy which hampered the development of a 
 great idea, and made of the Empire a house divided against itself. 
 It did so solely because the King of Germany»wore the crown of 
 Italy, and was chief patrician of Rome. 
 
 The ideal of the Papacy was the establishment of the throne of 
 
 
The Kulturkampf. 295 
 
 Peter as head over a temporal realm of Italy, and the fulfilment of 
 this ide.il was made impossible by the might of Germany. In 
 France the great princes were crushed, and the King became 
 supreme. In Germany the Empire broke up, and the princes 
 established their independence. In France the centripetal force 
 prevailed, in Germany the force that was centrifugal. In France, 
 the feudal nobles succumbed without the Pope lifting a finger to 
 save them ; but then, none of the bishops were princes, and the 
 King of Fiance was not King of Italy. 
 
 Every German who has studied the history of his country 
 knows that the failure in the accomplishment of the ideal of 
 Charlemagne was due to two causes : a loose confederation of the 
 States composing the Empire, and the interference of the Holy See. 
 "When the Imperial crown of Germany was offeied to William 
 of Prussia, at Versailles, and it became possible again to labour at 
 the accomplishment uf that ideal which had broken down finally in 
 the Thiity Years' war, the Chancellor doubtless supposed that the 
 two causes which had prevented that accomplishment before existed 
 still, and must be met and oveicome. 
 
 But, with regard to the first, Prussia has little grounds for fear. 
 Holding the Imperial crown, she is vastly more powerful than any 
 of the Mates separately which form tlie union, and with the States 
 which she can absolutely command can crush at any moment an 
 attempt to resist too summary incorporation. 1 Like Hcrmione — 
 " She is spread of late into a goodly bulk." 
 
 The Episcopal Electorates of Cologne, Minister, and Treves 
 have passed to her. Tart of Poland has become her spoil. She 
 exacted Silesia of Austria as the price of recognition of the right of 
 Maria Theresa to the throne of the Hapsburgs. Grand Duchies 
 have been absorbed in quick succession. Sehleswig-HoLstein has 
 been appropriated, Nassau incorporated. Hanover has gone to 
 make her " round apace," and now there is not a State in Germany 
 which does not exist on sufferance. Hesse was allowed in 'b'G to 
 linger on because of its relationship to Eussia. Baden has bought 
 a prolongation of life by marrying a Prussian princess. The 
 Queen of Wiirtemberg was an (Jlga of Eussia, and the King has no 
 
 1 Population (1875) :— Prussia, 25,772,562; Bavaria, 5,022,904; Saxony, 
 2,7G0,:-42, Wiirtemberg, 1,881,505; Baden, 1,506,531; Hesse, bS2,349; Elsass- 
 Lothringeii, 1,529,408. 
 
29G Germany, Present and Past 
 
 son. Prussia has, however, planted one foot in Swabia, in Hohen- 
 zollern, and she is not likely to be satisfied till she can put down 
 the other there also. 
 
 Since 1871, the policy of centralisation has been steadily pur- 
 sued. Universal military service, which had previously prevailed 
 only in Prussia, has been extended to the whole Empire, and the 
 armies of the States are being systematically unified. " The entire 
 military force of the Empiie," says Art. 63 of the Imperial Consti- 
 tution, "shall form one single arm}', standing in war and peace 
 under the command of the Emperor. The regiments shall be 
 numbered consecutively throughout the whole German army. The 
 uniform shall be conformed in cut and colour to that of the Royal 
 Prussian army; but the Sovereigns of the several contingents 
 shall be allowed to add extra distinctions, as cockades and the 
 like." 
 
 Baden regiments are commanded by Prussian officers and may 
 be moved where the Emperor chooses, into Lothringen, or West- 
 phalia, or Schleswig. And though Wiirtemberg soldiers remain in 
 the kingdom, they are placed under the command of a Prussian 
 general. All fortresses are Imperial, and the commanders of them 
 are appointed by the Emperor. 
 
 The old coinage of Baden, Bavaria, Wiirtemberg, etc., is sup- 
 pressed ; kreuzers and guldens, to the joy of travellers, have made 
 way for Pfennige and Marken, stamped with " Deutsches Keioh ; " 
 and live Imperial Eagle, bearing the Prussian eseutcheon, has sup- 
 planted the arms of the States on every coin. 1 
 
 Everywhere, except in Bavaria and Wiirtemberg, the pnst-offico 
 has passed into the hands of the Empire, which has also laid hold 
 iif the telegraphs, and appropriated the customs. Before long the 
 railways will probably have been delivered up to the Em] are, and 
 on the carriages the black eagle will be painted over ihe blue and 
 white Bavarian chequer and the gold and red arms of Baden. 
 
 Thus the whole postal, telegraphic, railroad, parcel—delivery, 
 and customs administration, will be filled with employes of the 
 Empire, looking to Berlin, not to Munich, Stuttga t, Karlsruhe, 
 Dresden, and Darmstadt. At Berlin will be gathered every thread 
 
 1 In the South, on the change of coinage, it was desired to have the French 
 decimal system, with the frank of the same value as in Italy, France, Switzer- 
 land, and Belgium. But Berlin ruled, otherwise. 
 
 
%.> 
 
 The Kulturkampf. 21)7 
 
 of power, and the whole of Germany will be involved in a net held 
 
 by the firm liand of the Imperial Chancellor. 
 
 Before 1866, Southern Germany inclined to an alliance with 
 
 Austria rather than with Prussia. It was not forgotten that 
 
 Prussia had played a selfish game in the great wars with Napoleon, 
 
 and that Austria had ventured all and lost vastly for the common 
 
 good. Prussia was known to have the appetite of the boa, but 
 
 then her administration commanded respect, whilst that of Austria 
 
 was inchoate. If Prussia was poor, she was not impecunious ; she 
 
 could pay in silver, where Austria offered only silver paper. There 
 
 was no help to be gotten out of an Empire which issued notes for 
 
 eighteenpence. Montecuculi said that for war three things are 
 
 needed: first, money; secondly, money; and thirdly, money. 
 
 Austria had not these requisites, and a piece of tissue-paper that 
 
 dissolves to pulp in a shower is a poor substitute for hard cash. 1 
 
 What redemption can come from an Empire that even in 1878 
 
 issued lottery tickets for the support of its army? If eyes turned 
 
 to Austria, it was only with .sentiment: it was wiih as little 
 
 thought of union as has the student who casts tender glances at 
 
 the dowerless Kellnerinn — 
 
 Lieben, lichen will ich dich, 
 Aber heiraihen nicht. 
 
 A large part of South Baden belonged, before 1802, to Austria. 
 The people in the Southern Schwarzwald speak affectionately of 
 the past union, and grumble over their pit-sent political marriage, 
 but it is the sentiment of the widow who flings the virtues of the 
 late lamented in the face of her second hu.sband, without the 
 expectation, perhaps the wish to resuscitate the first. 
 
 The twins born back to back never made much progress in the 
 world, for each objected to walk backwards. Austria consists of 
 three personalities; the thoughtful German, the plodding Slav, 
 and the blustering Magyar, not linked as the graces, but like 
 Samson's foxes. The forces of the Empire are exhausted internally 
 in keeping the tails together. With Sadowa finally disappeared 
 the " Gross Deutschland-Partei," which clung to the dream of an 
 Austrian union. If there be dislike in the South to Piussia, it is 
 because the Prussian has made himself offensive to the gentler and 
 
 1 •* Don't wale through the river with your fortune in your pocket," is a 
 Tyrolese proverb. 
 
-98 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 more courteous Southerner. In 1878, on March 22, the birthday 1 
 of the Emperor, a military banquet was given at Munich in honour 
 of the Kaiser, to which were invited all Prussian officers then in 
 Munich, and his health was enthusiastically drunk by Bavarians 
 and Prussians alike. When, next, the health of the King of 
 Bavaria was proposed, the Prussian junior officers remained seated, 
 and refused the toast ; when asked the reason they replied by their 
 spokesmen, that the mental or bodily welfare of the Sovereign w r as 
 a matter of supreme indifference to them. In a club to which I 
 bel >nged in a South German ciiy, the Prussian officers of the 
 native garrison were admitted by the kindly citizens, proposed and 
 elected with.mt prejudice. Once in, they monopolised the best room 
 and best tables, and by their loudly expressed insulting speeches 
 about the little State, its sovereign, and religion, drove the old 
 members from the room into another. These are mere specimens 
 ( f conduct pretty general, and which naturally embitters people 
 against Prussia. They decline to love those who comport them- 
 selves not as conquerors only, but as bullies. 
 
 But this antipathy to the Prussian — which is after all only the 
 dislilce a person might have to the invasion of his boudoir by a very 
 boistt rous and unmannerly Newfoundland dog — does not extend 
 to the Empire. The re-cstahlishment of the German Empire was 
 hailed alike by Protestants and Catholics, piiests and laymen ; and 
 I believe the Chancellor was entirely mistaken in supposing that 
 the Roman Catholic Church would prove a danger to the young 
 Empire. He has made one or two great mistakes in his life. He 
 is blundering now into a repressive warfare against Social- 
 Democrae}\ His Kultuvkampf was a greater error. Since ] 87 1 I 
 have been every year to Germany, and have talked with every 
 sort of person, and have become more and more convinced that this 
 was the case. A Roman priest said to me, " In 1871 we were all 
 mad with joy; Catholics, Protestants, Jews, — it was all the same; 
 we rushed into each other's arms, and swore Biudeischaft ; we 
 thought the millennium had come." 
 
 And there was reason why the Catholics in Baden at all events 
 should hail Prussian supremacy. In 1806, by the Peace of Press- 
 burg, lhc Margrave of Baden acquired all the lairds of Austria 
 between the Rhine and Danube to the Lake of Constance— lands 
 thoroughly Catholic. At once every monastery was sequestrated, 
 
The Kultwrkampf. 290 
 
 and turned into a barrack, or a brewery. In Protestant Germany 
 there are many Stifie, old convents u-ed for noble ladies, who live 
 there comfortably as eanonesses under an abbess. The religiuus 
 character of these institutions is of course gone, but they remain as 
 almshouses for the nobles, and the post of abbess has often been 
 given to a discarded mistress of a prince. Thus the Countess of 
 Konigsmark was made abbess of Quedlimburg. In the Black 
 Forest was an almshouse fir peasants' daughters, at Lindenburg, 
 in which Catholic old maids might end their days together, not 
 taking monastic vows, but living together near a chapel, and with 
 gardens and meadows belonging to the institution. So persistently 
 has the Baden Government worried the Catholics who have come 
 to the Grand Duchy, that even this very harmless institution was 
 suppressed in 1869; and now it remains untenanted and falling 
 into ruin. At the very same time, as if to ad<l insult to injury, 
 a Protestant "Stift" was founded for noble Evangelical ladies, 
 nine miles off, at Freiburg, in a city where, before 180(3, there had 
 not been a Protestant. Indeed, since 1806 the Ca'holic Church in 
 Baden has been harassed in every way possible by the Government, 
 though the proportion in every 100 persons in Baden is 64*5 
 Catholics to 33'6 Protestants. In 1852, when the late Grand 
 Duke died, the Archbishop of Freiburg was ordered to have high 
 Eequiem Mass for his soul in the Cathedral. He declined, on the 
 grounds that this was not possible, as the Grand Duke was a 
 Protestant, and the Catholic Church only allowed masses for the 
 souls of its members: but he offered to hold a solemn service of 
 mourning, and to pi each a panegyrical sermon on the sad occasion. 
 This was the origin of a series of petty perseculions to which the 
 Eoman Church in Baden was subjected till 1871. When the 
 Archbishop died, in 1868, and the chapter sent in eight names 
 to the Grand Duke for him to choose among them, he tore up the 
 list, and bade the chapter elect again. A second list met with the 
 same fate, and since then the see has been without bi.-hop 
 recognised by the State, i.e. for ten years. It may well be 
 imagined that Baden Catholics could feel no very warm enthusiasm 
 for their Government, which had incessantly woriied them since 
 they had been handed over to an insignificant Margrave blown 
 into a Grand Duke by Napoleon I. 
 
 The Baden Catholics drew a long breath in 1871, and hoped 
 
300 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 that in a mighty Empire thoy might receive more generous treat- 
 ment than in a petty principality. In Wiirtemberg the Catholics 
 are in a minority. Before 1806 they were under Austria or 
 Catholic " immediate " princes; but Napoleon, to reward the Duke 
 of Wiirtemberg for treason to the cause of Germany, forcibly 
 annexed them to his Duchy, and gave the Duke a royal crown. 
 Out of 100 persons 30*4 are Catholic, and 687 are Evangelical. 
 The Catholic Church is not allowed much liberty. It is part of 
 the Roman system to use monasteries and convents for the advance 
 of religion ; and in Wiirtemberg, by law of 1862, religions orders 
 and congregations are only allowed to settle or be formed subject 
 to the lisk of expulsion at a few days' notice. As a matter of 
 fact, there are in Wiirtemberg only 232 sisters of mercy, tolerated, 
 not recognised, by the Government, and 144 sisters of other 
 orders. 
 
 Bavaria does not comprise people of one blood like Wiirtemberg. 
 It embraces Bavarians proper (the Bojars, a Slav people originally), 
 Franconians of Wiirzburg, Bamberg, and Aschaffenburg given it 
 in 1806, and Swabians, formerly under the rule of little princes, 
 on the east of the Iller. The projiortion among 100 persons in 
 Bavaria is 70*5 Catholics to 27 5 Protestants. Bavaria is a con- 
 tented little kingdom, and there was no religious reason for op- 
 position to the Empire. The Iving was more dreaded than the 
 Einpei-or. He coquetted with the Alt-Katholics, supported 
 Dollinger, and when Pius IX. died, showed his animus by for- 
 bidding the bells of the churches in his realm being tolled to call 
 the Catholics to pray for their departed Pontiff. 
 
 In Prussia the Eoman Church enjoyed complete liberty. She 
 looked on America and Pruss'a as her happy hunting fields. The 
 conciliatory spirit manifested by the Government had the most 
 happy lesults in completely securing the loyalty of Westphalia, 
 the Rhenish provinces, and Silesia. Indeed, South Germans looked 
 with some suspicion on the Catholics of the North, and it was a 
 common saying among them that these latter were "Prussians 
 first, Germans next, and then Catholics." 
 
 All at once a bolt fell out. of the blue sky. On July 4, 1872, 
 the Emperor William signed at Ems a law expelling the Jesuits 
 and their affilia'ed orders from the German Empire. 
 
 On May 20, 1873, it was announced by the Chancellor that the 
 
The KuUurhampf. 301 
 
 Redemptorists, Lazarists, the Congregation of Priests of the Holy 
 Ghost, and the Society of the Sacred Heart, were included in this 
 condemnation. 
 
 On Februar}' 6, 1875, a law was signed which withdrew 
 registration of births and burials from the clergy, and placed it 
 in the hands of officers of the State, and also made civil marriage 
 compulsory. 
 
 On February 26, 1870, an addition was made to the penal code 
 of the Empire drawn up in 1871, which made the clergy amenable 
 to punishment for uttering any expression in public, or for print- 
 ing anything, which imperils the public peace. 
 
 These are the only ecclesiastical laws affecting the Empire, but 
 a whole string of laws has been enacted, first in Baden, and then 
 in Prussia, applicable to both these States — in Baden in 1869, two 
 years later in Prussia. "Fiat experinientum in corpore vili." 
 
 On July 8, 1871, the ministry of the Catholic religion in the 
 Kingdom of Prussia was suppressed, and one ministry of religion 
 was constituted for Catholics and Protestants. 
 
 On March 15, 1873, the office of Chaplain-General in the army 
 for Catholics was done away with. Other acts were passed to give 
 petty annoyance; but those of Ma}*, 1873, were more serious. 
 
 The law of May 11 requires that no priest shall enter on a cure 
 of souls who has not passed through examination in a German 
 gymnasium, spent three years in a German university, and passed 
 an examination in three faculties, of which theology shall not be 
 one. It forbids candidates for orders residing in a college together 
 whilst studying in the university. 1 It forbids the opening of new 
 schools, and the taking of fresh pupils into the old schools for 
 candidates for the ministry. It requires the Ordinary to announce 
 to the St ite the nomination to a cure of souls, and provides that, 
 in the event of a bishop appointing a priest who has not his 
 Government certificate, he shall be fined from 600 to 3,000 marks 
 (30*. to 150Z.). 
 
 There are other provisions, but these are the most important. 
 On December 6, 1873, a law was pa-sed requiring the bishops, 
 before recognition by the State, to take an oath of obedience to 
 these laws. 
 
 1 Protectants are allowed to live in the Johanneura at Berlin, and the college 
 of the same name at Breslau, and the Evangelical College at Leipzig. 
 
302 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 On May 21, 1S74, additional provisions wore added, making it 
 penal for a priest to exercise any religious function, unless lie has 
 his ticket of qualification fioia ihe State, and authorising the 
 ] arish or State to appoint a priest to a vacant cnre of souls, with- 
 out the consent of the bishop, should he nominate contrary to the 
 law. 
 
 By law of February 18, 187(3, the religious instruction given to 
 Catholic children in schools is subjected to the supervision and 
 approval of the State. Other laws affecting the Catholic Church 
 have been passed, Lut they are of less immediate interest and 
 importance. 
 
 The western porch of the cathedral of Strassburg is enclosed 
 within two gables, one within the other. The inner gable is 
 surmounted by a statue of the Emperor, and on the stages or 
 crockets are figures of bears and li >ns. Outside this gable, spiring 
 airily aloft, is another, surmounted by the figure of Our Lord, and 
 the stages of this gable are occupied by angels with expanded 
 wings. The inner structure represents the Imperial power renting 
 on and sustained by brute force. The outer is the symbol of the 
 spiritual power reposing on free intelligences and unfettered wills. 
 It would have been well had the Imperial Chancellor taken a look 
 at this frontal before passing the May laws, and attempting to 
 crush a spiiitual empire within one military and bureaucratic. 
 
 Why was the Kulturkampf undertaken? This is a question 
 often asked, and answered in different ways. That Ulframontanism 
 is a danger to the Empire is the usual explanation; but proof is 
 not producible. The evidence is not forthcoming for very good 
 reasons. Ultramontanism can scarcely be said to exist in Germany. 
 And Ultramontanism, even if it did exist, need not be in opposition 
 to the Empire. 
 
 Ultramontanism, as it is understood in France and Belgium, 
 has never taken root in Germany. It was represented by the 
 Jesuits, and when they were got rid of, Catholicism remained as a 
 religion, but not as a political factor. In Prussia the Catholic 
 population was thoroughly loyal. The Poles were in a state of 
 chronic discontent, but they knew that they were better off under 
 Piussia than their brethren under the Czar. There was no danger 
 to be apprehended from them. Westphalian Catholics, and those 
 < ii the Rhine and Mosel, in Osnabruek and Hildesheiin, were well 
 
• The Kultwvkampf. 303 
 
 content to "be no longer under episcopal Electors, and felt no 
 gravitation towards France. Tliey never lived under a reigning 
 fanrly, and had no dynastic loyalty, like the Wiirtembergers and 
 Bavarians and Saxons. A sluggish sense of respect for the 
 Hohenzollerns was warming into loyalty to a house and with a 
 little nursing might grow into enthusiasm The real seat of dis- 
 affection and danger is Bavaria and Wiiiteinberg, and these States 
 are unaffected by the May laws. 
 
 Ultramoiranism is an exotic, and will not take ready root in 
 German ground. Germ m Catholics are too sober and sensible to 
 follow the excesses of a school which has mustered the Church 
 in France. The bishops exhibited their feebleness at the Vatican 
 Council, but not their subserviency to the Jesuits. And the 
 Catholic clergy are German at heart, and moderate in their 
 opinions. None are more ready to testify to this, as also to the 
 purity of their lives, and their devotion to their calling, than the 
 Evangelical pastors who are their next-door neighbours. " In 
 village life," says the proverb, " every man sees into his neigh- 
 bour's mouth ; " and, it may be added, into his neighbour's heart 
 as well. 
 
 Last Emperor's birthday was kept in a little South German 
 village by there assembling, in the village inn, three Roman 
 priests, two Protestant pastors, an English clergyman, the count 
 whose castle was in the village, the notary, the apothecary, and 
 some bauers. The health of the Emperor was drunk by all amidst 
 patriotic speeches, and the evening passed amidst clouds of tobacco- 
 smoke and the flowing of fresh beer, with the utmost cordiality. 
 Every Sunday and festival sees these worthies— the Englishman 
 excepted — hobnobbing together. Catholic priest and Proestant 
 pastor, Conservative Graf and Liberal apothecary, argue and 
 laugh and dispute and shake hands year in year out. Is this a 
 nursery of Ultramontanism? In France the priests are debarred 
 by their bishops from joining in social gatherings, lest they lose the 
 narrowness laboriously contracted in the seminaries, and widen 
 into good-fellowship with all men by association. Englishmen 
 have lost all prejudice against Moslems and Hindoos by mixing 
 with them, and German Protestant pastors and Catholic piiests 
 are hail-brother- well-met ! because they smoke and drink together 
 at least once a week. 
 
304 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 Ultramontanism does exist in Germany, but it is entirely the 
 fiuit, the creation, of a meddling and muddling policy on the part 
 of the Governments. 
 
 Tho external organisation of the Roman Church in Germany 
 was destroyed in 1803. The Catholic Church till then had been 
 an established Church, with its bishops, abbots, canons, and clergy 
 holding land, and enjo\ ing rigbts and exercising a vote in the 
 affairs of their country and the Empire. In 1803 the bishoprics, 
 abbacies, chapters, were all secularised. The archbishopric of 
 Mainz, which had been an independ lit principality since the time 
 of Charlemagne, ft 11 to He- se- Darmstadt. Fulda, which bad been 
 ruled by an abbot-bishop since 751, was given to the Calvini.^t 
 house of Nassau. Wiirzburg fell to Bavaria, so did Bamberg. In 
 1814 Cologne became Prussian, so also Treves. It is needless to 
 mention others. The result was that the Roman prelates and 
 clergy were detached fiorn the soil ; they had lost interest of a 
 practical kind in their country. The Protestant rulers over newly 
 acquired Catholic populations consulted together in 1818 about 
 a constitution for the .Catholic Church in Germany. But in the 
 interim between 1803 and 1818 irreparable mischief had been 
 done. A Protestant church may be disestablished with tolerablo 
 impunity. It will become narrow and sectarian, but not anti- 
 national, because it has no second centre round which to concen- 
 trate. But it is not so with the Catholic Church, The only 
 means of making it national is to give it a footing on the soil, 
 on which it can . stand and make opposition to the Papacy. By 
 cutting away this foothold the Roman clergy were precipitated 
 into the arms of Pome, compelled to be Ultramontane. In 1817 
 Bavaria had concluded a concordat with the Pope which accorded 
 extensive rights to the King, — the appointment to the bishoprics. 
 Prussia and Hanover also negotiated directly with the Pope. 
 From the close of the Thirty Years' war the German Catholic 
 Church had manifested a markedly national and liberal tendency, 
 and had maintained a persistent opposition to the encroachments 
 of the Curia ; but now, by the Protestant and Catholic govern- 
 ments negotiating directly with the Tope, instead of, as hereto- 
 fore, treating with the bishops and clergy of Germany, as a 
 National Catholic Church, they constituted him absolute over 
 the German Church, and put the clergy unreservedly into his 
 
The KuUurkampf. 305 
 
 hands. Cuiialism gained ground. No provision had been made 
 by the Governments 'or t: e diocesan rule being in accordance 
 with canon law. The bishops were converted by the force of 
 circumstances into creatures o 1 ' Tome, and the clergy into creatures 
 of the i ishops. The Curia took care to make the bishop entirely 
 dependent on its favour, and he in turn ruled his clergy as a body 
 of serfs. Can any one believe that the bishops and parochial 
 clergy hailed this change? That it was acceptable to them to be 
 transformed from a state of established independence into curates 
 totally dependent on the Curia at Rome ? 
 
 If in Germany Ultramontanism exists, the State has only itself 
 to thank for it. The German Church used to hold its synods and 
 councils. It does nothing of the sort dow. The clergy have no 
 more a voice in the arrangements of the diocese than servants have 
 in the arrangements of a household. If they displease the bishops, 
 they can be crushed. If a bishop offend the Curia, he may have 
 his prhileges withdrawn, so that he remains but a bishop in 
 name. A system of faculties has been contrived which are granted 
 lo a bishop who stands well with the Curia; but should he be 
 out of favour they are withdrawn, and his authority, power, and 
 influence in his diocese are paralysed. He is a bishop unable to 
 execute his episcopal functions among his flock, and a bishop " in 
 partibus" is sent by the Pope into the diocese to discredit him 
 with his people, and minister to them in his room. It was by 
 threatening the withdrawal of these rights, that some of the 
 bishops most opposed to the dogma of Papal infallibility were 
 forced to yield. Yet, in spite of all that has been done by the 
 State to squeeze the clergy into Ultramontanism, I do nut believe 
 that more than one out of ten is an Ultramontane of the Belgian 
 and French type; 1 believe that till Prince Bismarck passed the 
 May laws, the vast body of the clergy were well affected to the 
 Imperial Government. If four out of ten are Ul tramontanes now, 
 it is because the Chancellor has made them so. In the Middle 
 Ages an outcry was rai ed against the Jews for poisoning the 
 wells, and they were hounded down and burnt alive. Yet it was 
 the Christians as much as they who poisoned the wells with their 
 sewage. If in Strassburg, Ulm, and Mainz, the Christian citizens 
 did that wherewith Sennacherib threatened the Jews, and suffered 
 fur it, they were wrong in laying the blame on the Hebrews, 
 
 x 
 
30G Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 instead of looking at their own drains. Prince Bismarck and his 
 followers are making the same mistake. It is the German Govern- 
 ment which by its short-sighted and blundering policy has 
 poisoned the wells, and not the unhappy Catholics whom they are 
 persecuting. Till recently, the clergy have never been politicians 
 in Germany, any more than the bauers. All they have asked for 
 has been to be let alone. 
 
 It was well to banish the Jesuits — a body of men without 
 fatherland, national sympathies, and moral scruples, careful only 
 for the welfare of the Society of Jesus, and the restoration of the 
 Temporal Power. 
 
 When the Empire of Germany was offered to William of 
 Prussia, Cardinal Ledochowsk} 7 , as the mouthpiece of the Jesuits, 
 went to the new Emperor, and asked him if he Mould assist in 
 the restoration of the Temporal Power. When the Jesuits learned 
 that Germany would not lend itself to this, they were prepared 
 to help on any combination which might give back to the Pope 
 his temporal crown, German unity being sacrificed, if need be, 
 to obtain it. It may be a matter of curiosity to some to know 
 why Jesuitism should be so eager on this point. The reason is 
 simple enough. Unless the Pope rules in Rome as a sovereign, 
 Jesuits exist in Eome and about his ear only on sufferance. At. 
 any moment the Italian Parliament might pass an act expelling 
 them from the country ; and then, unless they could drag the 
 Pope off with them, their hold on the reins of the Catholic Church 
 would be lost. Odin had his two ravens, Hugin and Ivlugin, in- 
 spiring him, by whispering dreams into his oar. The Jesuits 
 are the Hugin and Mugin of the Supreme Pontiff. If the Chan- 
 cellor had confined himself to the expulsion o£ the spawn of 
 Loj-ola, only a handful of women, Poles, and converts would have 
 bewailed them. Priests and bishops, while ostentatiously pro- 
 testing, would have rubbed their hands in secret. The Jesuits 
 are the spies of the Roman Curia, and no man likes to have 
 all his movements watched by keepers or detectives. Every man 
 has felt the unpleasant sensation produced by an eye fixed on 
 him for a protracted period, and however kindly disposed the 
 observer may profess himself to be, his room is preferred to Lis 
 company. 
 
 Unfortunately, the ecclesiastical legislation of May, 1873, has 
 
The Kidturkampf. 307 
 
 played the game into the hands of the Jesuits, as we shall pre- 
 sently see. 
 
 The Kulturkampf has by some been represented as a war for 
 education and culture against ignorance and superstition. It may 
 be so, but that was not the object for which it was declared. If 
 we look at the educational statistics of Germany, we do not find 
 that the Catholics fall short of the Protestants in education. If 
 tlie Government were anxious that the clergy should attain a high 
 standard of culture, it was an odd way of exhibiting this anxiety 
 by banishing the religious orders, which contain the most highly 
 cultivated and intellectually acute members of the Roman Catholic 
 priesthood, and those who laboured at and devoted their lives to 
 education. In Bavaria, it was only in 1817 that the orders were 
 allowed to occupy their monasteries and convents, and by 1874 
 the number of religious houses they possessed was 62u (96 of 
 monks and friars, 524 of nuns and sisters of mercy). Between 
 1870 and 1874 as many as 66 new convents had been established. 
 Of all the houses only 2 per cent, belonged to contei lplative 
 orders. As many as 209 were institutes for nursing the sick, 
 with 1,322 members; and there were 18 societies with 331 schools, 
 and 4,006 members — i.e. 64 - 9 per cent, of all religious — engaged 
 in education. In 1873 the Dames Anglaises numbered 1,167 
 members, and 70 qualified lay teachers engaged in education. 
 They had 72 schools, with 2,800 boarders and 13,790 day scholars, 
 also 2,040 children in orphanages; in all 18,530 children. In all 
 Germany there were, in 1873, as far as can be estimated, 19,434 
 monks, nuns, friars, and sisters of mercy. 
 
 Men. Women. 
 
 In Prussia (1873) 1037 SOU 
 
 „ Bavaria (1873) 1074 5054 
 
 „ Saxony (1875) ..•••« none 92 
 
 „ Wurtemberg ^1873) „ 370 
 
 „ Baden (1873) „ 349 
 
 „ Hesse (1874) 39 314 
 
 „ Elsass-Loth. (1S73) 418 2650 
 
 Total . 2568 10,846 
 
 Of these, the vast majority were devoted to education, or 
 nursing the sick. Those nursing the sick are allowed provisionally 
 to remain, but all teaching orders have, in Prussia, Baden, and 
 
308 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 to some extent in Bavaria, been disbanded and forced to leave tbe 
 country. 
 
 I shall presently give tbe story of one society thus suppressed, 
 and the reader will see how the law has been, in many cases, 
 carried out. 
 
 The real purpose of the Kulturkampf has been, I conceive, 
 centralisation. It has not been waged against the Eoman Church 
 only, for the same process has been followed with the Protestant 
 Churches. It was intolerable in a strong centralising Government 
 to have a Calvinist and a Lutheran Church side by side, and both 
 to call themselves Protestant. It interfered with systematic and 
 neat account-keeping of public expenditure for religious purposes. 
 Consequently, in 1839 the King of Prussia suppressed Calvinism 
 and Lutheranism, and established a new Evangelical Church on 
 tlieir ruins, with constitution and liturgy chiefly of his own 
 drawing up. The Protestant Churches of Baden, .Nassau, Hesse, 
 and the Bavarian Palatinate have also been fused and organised on 
 rhe Prussian pattern. In Schleswig-Ilolstein and in Hanover 
 existed pure Lutherans, but they, for uniformity's sake, have been 
 also recently unified and melted into the Landeskirche of Prussia. 
 
 A military government cannot tolerate any sort of double 
 allegiance in its subjects. Education and religion, medicine and 
 jurisprudence, telegraphs and post office, must be under the juris- 
 diction of the State. The Prussian mind, trained under a military 
 system, cannot understand freedom as it is undei-stood in England, 
 least of all the idea of a free Church. In a military empire every 
 man is a soldier, and everything concerning him is subjected to 
 military supervision. The State looks after his mind, his bowels, 
 and his soul ; it must accredit the doctors or trainers for all three. 
 The State so far bends to circumstances as to allow men to be 
 Poles, Prussians, or Saxons by blood, and to be Catholics, Pro- 
 testants, or Jews by profession, just as it acknowledges three arms, 
 infantry, cavalry, and artillery. As every male infant is an 
 embryo soldier, and every female babe a prospective mother of 
 soldiers, they must be registered by State functionaries, educated 
 by State functionaries, married by State functionaries, and 
 shovelled out of the world by State functionaries. No man 
 is a free agent, for every man is a soldier. He must be drilled 
 by State corporals on week-days, and preached to by State chap- 
 
The Kulturkarnpf. 309 
 
 lains on Sundays. The State takes charge of his digestion and 
 conscience. He is forbidden green gooseberries at Whitsuntide, 
 and fresh spiritual diet at any time. 1 
 
 From the point of view of a military despotism, the May laws 
 are reasonable and necessary. As Germany is a great camp, the 
 clergy, Protestant and Catholic, must be military chaplains amen- 
 able to the general in command. Military organisation, military 
 discipline, and military obedience are exacted and expected in 
 eveiy department. A soldier cannot escape a duty because it dis- 
 agrees with his liver, nor can a parson shirk doing what the State 
 imposes because it disturbs his conscience. I have no doubt what- 
 ever that this is the real explanation of the Kulturkampf, and that 
 all other explanations are excxises and inventions. Prince Bismarck 
 no doubt hates the Pope, not because he cares a straw about reli- 
 gions principles and doctrines, but because the Pope is a power 
 interfering with Imperial ab-olutism and military dictatorship. 
 The Catholics are welcome to their tinsel* and bones and masses, 
 just as the Bavarian contingent, is allowed blue facings, and the 
 Biunswickers black, but the Pope and bishops must exercise no 
 more real authority over priests and people than the King of Han- 
 over or the Duke of Brunswick. The Chancellor, when he began 
 the crusade, had probably no idea of the opposition he would met t 
 with, and when the opposition manifested itself, it irritated him, 
 and made him more dogged in pursuing his scheme. The State 
 had met with little or no opposition in unifying the Protestant 
 Churches, and making the mutually antipathetic Calvinism and 
 Lulheranism merge their differences at the bidding of the Crown, 
 and Prince Bismarck supposed he would meet with as little resist- 
 ance from the Catholics. German Protestantism is so radically 
 Erastian that the German mind is incapable of understanding the 
 existence of a conscience which distinguishes between the things 
 that be of God and of Caesar. The theory of the Church as a 
 spiritual body and not as a mere establishment has always lived in 
 
 1 If a Protestant officer — say a lieutenant — should enter a Catholic church 
 during service, and his superior officer were to hear of it, he would be repri- 
 manded ; and if he repealed the oflence, punished. And so if a private or 
 officer who is registered in the roll as a Catholic, attends Protestant worship, 
 he subjects himself to reprimand and punishment. He is not sticking to the 
 regulations. 
 
310 Germany, Presevt and Past. 
 
 the Anglican Communion. Indeed this theory has taken such 
 a strong hold of the English religious mind that it has forced 
 bodies of Christians to leave the Established Church, rather than 
 allow their consciences to be directed by a purely secular authority 
 such as the Crown or Parliament. Dissenting communities have 
 organized themselves as spiritual corporations absolutely inde- 
 pendent of the State. But in Germany, religion has been a matter 
 of mere State police. The people believe or disbelieve at the hid- 
 ding of their princes. They have not been consulted as to their 
 views or wishes, but have been given what worship and creed their 
 rulers have affected, and as their rulers have changed their shib- 
 boleths, so have the people been required to screw their mouths. 
 Lutheranism has never formed one Church, with uniformity of 
 liturgy and ceremonial. In Ntirnberg its churches are undistin- 
 guishable from Catholic churches, and are adorned with statues of 
 the " Virgo immaculata," relics, shrines, crucifixes, tapers, and 
 burning lamps; 1 in Norway and Iceland, with vestments, and 
 wafers, and mass ; in Wurtemberg and Baden, the churches are 
 bare as a music-hall. German religion, Catholic and Protestant, 
 has been determined for the people by political circumstances. A 
 village is Catholic if its feudal lord was of the ancient faith at the 
 conclusion of the Thirty Years' war. If he accepted the tenets of 
 Luther, his people were required to hold by the Confession of 
 Augsburg ; if he held by Calvin, to swear by the Institutes ; and 
 those who refused were expelled their homes. Consequently, 
 scattered all over Germany, we find Catholic and Protestant 
 villages side by side, with no mingling of confessions in them ; 
 and the idea is so impressed on the people that a change of faith is 
 a political impossibility, that such an event as a conversion from 
 one form to another is almost unknown. The peasants of Schon- 
 dorf are Catholic to-day to a man, because, in the fourteenth 
 century, the village was bought by a Bishop of Bamberg. The 
 bauers of Bettherg are Lutheran, because in the twelfth century, 
 by a marriage, their forefathers passed as serfs to the Margrave of 
 Baden. 'The inhabitants of Blaubach are Calvinists, because the 
 Count of Staikemburg embraced the reform of Geneva. As the 
 
 
 k o 
 
 1 In St. Sebaldus, the perpetual lamp is still kept burning before the taber- 
 nacle, which, however, is empty ; and the sixteen altars are spread with clean 
 linen for daily mass, which is never said. 
 
The Kulturkamj)/. 311 
 
 lord of the land believed or disbelieved, so all bis vassals were 
 forced to believe or disbelieve also. 
 
 Very probably the Chancellor reckoned, when he began the 
 Kulturkampf, on the Old Catholic movement becoming more 
 general than it has. There is no doubt but that, on the promulga- 
 tion of the decree of Papal infallibility, there was a great agitation 
 of spirits among German Roman Catholics. The surrender by the 
 bishops awoke universal disappointment, and the Alt-Katholic 
 movement for a moment threatened the Church with a serious dis- 
 ruption. But the moment passed. The German mind abhors 
 schism. Germany has suffered too much from being broken up 
 into petty States to view petty sects with complacency. Con- 
 sequently Methodism, Anabaptism, and oiher forms of Dissent 
 have made no way in Germany. 
 
 If the bishops had ri-en to the occasion, protested their in- 
 ability to receive the decree of the Council, and left the Pope to 
 take what further proceedings he chose, they would have carried 
 all Catholic Germany with them. Their submission unsettled for 
 a moment the consciences of educated Catholics, and some readily 
 joined the new sect that absurdly called itself by an old name. 
 Prince Bismarck probably knew that the parish priests were almost 
 to a man anti infallibilists, and disliked the political Catholicism 
 of the sons of Loyola. But he did not know with what horror a 
 Catholic regards separation from the centre of unity. 
 
 The schism of Rouge, entitled the •' German Catholic Church," 
 which rose as a rocket in 1815, came down as a stick before 1850 ; 
 and the experiment was not worth repeating. Few priests joined 
 the movement, and those who did were either men of learning who 
 exercised no influence over the common people, or men of strong- 
 passions who wanted wives ; and the vulgar speedily took the 
 measure of their sincerity. Among the laity, Old Catholicism has 
 made recruits from those Catholics who wanted to mairy Pro- 
 testants, and who could not do so in the Roman Church, which set 
 her face against mixed marriages ; 1 or from those who want to 
 shake off their religious responsibilities, but do not care for the 
 chill of Evangelical Protestantism. But the largest number of 
 converts to Old Catholicism were made from the class of Beamten — 
 
 1 Unless a written agreement be drawn up that all the children shall be 
 brought up Catholics. 
 
312 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 Government officials. Ilerr von Mallinckrodt said in the House of 
 Deputies (January 33, 1872): — "You all know that in Prussia 
 Catholics have not far to go to discover that offices of importance 
 in every department are not given in fair division to them. Show 
 me among the Ministry a single person who is not Evangelical. 
 Look further among the trader-secretaries, among the councillors — 
 you must light a lantern to find one. Go into the provinces, seek 
 among the chief judges, among the second judges of the law 
 courts: you will not find one. Go further among the functionaries 
 of Government, among the Landriithe, go to the universities, to the 
 gymnasiums, count how many among the officials there are 
 Catholic, and then compare the proportion with that of the 
 Catholic population !" That this is by no means overstated I can 
 bear testimony from having lived in a town which before 1807 had 
 not, probably, a Protestant living in it. The troops garrisoning it 
 are commanded almost entirely by Protestant officers. On the 
 Emperor's birthday a brilliant array of staff-officers and generals 
 attended the Evangelical Church, at the head of a handful oi 
 Boldiers, whilst the great bulk of the troops were at the minstei 
 under a few lieutenants. The chief judge and his assistants are 
 Protestants, the schools are given Protestant masters, and the 
 univeisity professors of the same confession. 
 
 Professor von Schulte says, in an article in the " Contemporary" 
 for July, 1878, "Protestant officials in all influential posts became 
 the rule. Provincial and governmental chiefs, head magistrates, 
 etc., were all Protestants. The Rhenish provinces had not one, 
 Westphalia only one Catholic president ; from 1815 to the present 
 time scarcely half-a-dozen Catholic Ministers have been chosen ; 
 the number of councillors in the Government, the superior courts, 
 etc., has never been anything like in proportion to the adherents 
 of the two creeds among the population. The appointment of 
 Protestant officials in Catholic districts, in courts of justice, etc., 
 was, up to 1810, almost carried out as a system; an immense 
 majority of officials of all giados were Protestants. It was carried 
 so far that a vast number of Protestant gendarmes, apparitors, and 
 other sub-officials, who have to be chosen from disabled soldiers, 
 were brought fiom the Eastern provinces to Westphalia. . . . The 
 circumstance that, in many cases, going over to Protestantism 
 opeiu d the way to a career, and vice wsd, produced a great effect/' 
 
The Kidturkampf. 313 
 
 A friend of mine, the member of an old noble Catholic family, 
 was brought up by his father as a Protectant because he de-tined 
 him for the Prussian army, and was well persuaded that if his son 
 was a Catholic he would stick among the lieutenants. 
 
 The " Beamten" have not been slow to perceive that there was 
 no advancement for Catholics, and the Alt-Katholic schism offered 
 them a convenient loop-hole for putting themselves on a better foot- 
 ing with the Government, and opening out to themselves prospects 
 of advancement. They were not disposed to abandon iheir faith, 
 but they were not willing to let their creed stand as a banier to 
 their worldly prospects. But they have not gained much by 
 becoming Alr-Katholics. The schism has proved itself a dismal 
 failure. It is regarded with dislike by Romanists and with 
 contempt by Protestants. Many "Beamten/' finding old Catholicism 
 does not help them on in office, have grown lukewarm in their 
 profession of it, and have their children instructed by Roman 
 Catholic teachers, and only await a favourable opportunity for 
 slipping back into the Church of their fathers. 
 
 It would have been well if some of our Anglican Bishops, 
 Deans, and Canons who have shaken hands with Old Catholics, 
 had studied them a little at home before taking them to their 
 hearts with such effusion. Now that Leo XIII. shows a readiness 
 to adopt a conciliatory policy, the position of the Alt-Katholics 
 is becoming unieasonable. The only parish in Bavaria which 
 followed the movement in 1872 returned to the unity of the 
 Catholic Church in 1877. 
 
 In the spring of 1878 I spent some weeks at Klein-Laufenburg, 
 in Baden, divided by the Rhine from Gross-Laufenburg in Aarau, 
 but connected with it by a bridge. In the Swiss town is a large 
 and stately church ; in the Baden suburb a little chapel capable of 
 holding 150 persons. Gross-Laufenburg was given to Switzerland 
 in 1803. It had previously belonged to Austria. The inhabitants 
 are all Catholics. But the Aarau government, like that of Berne 
 and Solothurn, is pleased to suppose that Old Catholicism is the 
 legitimate successor of the Church before the Vatican Council, 
 consequently it had displaced all the Roman Catholic piie>ts and 
 rilled their cures with Alt-Katholics. I went to church on Sunday 
 and was puzzled — not knowing the circumstances — to find the 
 Congregation numbered twenty, and was made up of the gendarmes, 
 
314 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 post-office, custom-house, and other Government officials. The 
 service was conducted precisely as in a Iioman church, and the 
 Pfarrer preached a most admirable sermon. Next Sunday 
 curiosity took me to the chapel at Klein-Laufenburg. It was a 
 rainy day. The whole town was flowing over the bridge in a 
 thick current to the little chapel. It was crowded, and the 
 churchyard and road were filled with worshippers under umbrellas, 
 kneeling in the mud. In winter, I was told, the inhabitants of 
 the town are willing to stand in the snow and bitter frost to hear 
 mass outside the Baden chapel rather than attend their parish 
 church, where precisely the same service, identical in every minute 
 detail, is conducted by a priest out of communion with Kome, but 
 enjoying the sanction and support of the State. 
 
 If ever a religious community bore on its brow the evidence of 
 being death-struck, it is that of Old Catholicism. I have attended 
 the services often, and have been struck by the deadness which 
 hung about them. Catholic children, when brought to attend Alt- 
 Katholic churches, rapidly lose- their old habits of reverence and 
 devotion, and the rod of the schoolmaster has to take the place of 
 interior piety to maintain them within the bounds of propriety. 
 Their elders, who as Eoman Catholics never missed attending mass 
 on Sundays and festivals, fall into listless indifference and go to 
 church occasionally, after a while not at all. But it is chiefly on 
 children that the deteiiorating effect is noticeable. And this is not 
 to be wondered at. Old Catholicism is simply a controversial 
 religion. The sermons I have heard have been anti-Papal, or self- 
 vindicatory. It is an unwholesome atmosphere in which to rear 
 the young. It is a vicious one for adults to inhale. It is not 
 conducive to true religion to go to chuich to hear the Pope, or the 
 Curia, or the bishop of the diocese, or the diocesan chapter, or the 
 Catholic clergy pecked at. Charity and edification should be found 
 in the temple, not spite and scurrility. In a large church where 
 during Lent, the Alt-Katholic pastor preached a series of sermons 
 against the Archbishop to a crowded congregation, at Easter he had 
 just three communicants. In number the Old Catholics are declin- 
 ing. In 1877 there were in Germany 53,640 ; in January, 1878, only 
 51,864. In one year in Bavaria the numbers have fallen off to the 
 number of 1,305, and since then the parish of Mering has ahjured 
 its Alt-Katholicism. The same declension is observable in the list 
 
The KulturJcampf. 
 
 'UJ'I 315 
 
 y"V 
 
 of Old Calholic priests, which at the beginning of 1878 contained 
 only fifty names, as against fifty-five in 1877, and of these one has 
 s ; nce been dismissed for immorality. Dr. Tangermann and Dr. 
 Friedrich, Professors Langen and Menzel, have also since resigned 
 their connection with the movement. The number shows few 
 recruits except from men who will do no credit to the Church. 
 
 But to return from this digression. 
 
 The law of civil registration has not harassed the Catholics, 
 and they were ready to submit to it without objection. But the 
 law whereby the State takes the education entirely into its own 
 hands has affected them more seriously. 
 
 The Christian Brothers, Xavierian Brothers, Ursulines, and 
 other educational societies, had in their hands the instruction of 
 most Catholic children in towns. These orders were abolished on 
 May 31, 1875, along with every other religious community in the 
 Roman Church, except the Nursing Sisters of Mercy, who are 
 allowed to linger on till the State is supplied with its official staff 
 of hired nurses, when voluntary charity in the hospital will also 
 be dispensed with. 
 
 The new Government schools are not without religion. On 
 the contrary religious teaching is compulsory; the Jewish rabbi, 
 the Protestant minister, and the Catholic priest, have access to 
 them, and give instruction on doctrine and morals in the class- 
 rooms. But they do so only as State professors of theology, 
 holding their testimonial of efficiency and licence to teach from 
 Government. They are as much State functionaries as the masters 
 of gymnastics and geometry. And by order of the Minister of 
 Religion, dated February 16, 1876, the instruction of Catholics 
 in their religion has been subjected to strict supervision ; the 
 object being to provide that the pupils be not taught that there is 
 any division in their allegiance. To their •' spiritual pastors and 
 masters " they are only to owe obedience if these are furnished 
 with Imperial licence to rule over them in matters of conscience. 
 
 That the Government has acted well in t iking into its own 
 hands the education of its sons, admits not of a doubt. It were 
 well indeed for England if the Government would sweep away the 
 wretched " Academies for Young Gentlemen " and " Collegiate 
 Institutes," in which the sons of the middle classes receive their 
 training, and were to establish middle schools as well as parochial 
 
blG Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 schools for poor children. The German G} T mnasia are admirable : 
 an excellent education is given at a ridiculously low cost ; and the 
 teaching in the Lyceums is far better and much cheaper than in 
 many of our grammar-schools. Some of the establishments con- 
 ducted by ihe religious orders were no doubt admirable, but others 
 were inferior, and all were under no supervision. In Hungary, 
 horses are taught to step high by having spectacles put on their 
 noses magnifying pebbles into rooks and straws into tree-boles. 
 The objectionable feature of these schools was, that the great 
 object of the teachers was to put moral spectacles on their pupils, 
 and make them prance through life. 
 
 But the law that has aroused greatest opposition is that which 
 affects the education of the clergy, as it is so contrived as effectu- 
 ally to cut off the supply. 
 
 According to the decree of the Council of Trent, boys destined 
 for the ministry of the Church are taken from home and trained 
 together in a "Little Seminary." When they have passed through 
 this school, they migrate to the " Greater Seminary," where they 
 live together in college, and attend the theological faculty in a 
 university, or, if there be no university in the place, study with 
 their own professors. 
 
 The Seminary system is a bad one. The candidates are 
 secluded from association with all save their comrades: 1 hey are 
 not exposed to contact with the cuirent of modern thuught, and 
 never enter thoroughly into the national life. 
 
 Many years ago an exhibition of "industrious fleas" attracted 
 siffht-seers in the Strand. The industiious fleas went through 
 many surprising performances in a dull mechanical manner. But 
 the most remarkable feature about them was that they never 
 jumped. It was explained that they were trained under thimbles. 
 Whenever they bounded, they banged their heads against the 
 walls of the thimble, and incurred headaches. After a week or 
 two they abandoned jumping, and were ready to toil in treadmills 
 and drive coaches as iheir master ordered for the rest of their 
 natural lives, without dreaming of taking a header and making 
 their escape. 
 
 The seminaries have been the thimbles under which the indus- 
 trious fleas of Holy Church have been reared, and made creatures 
 of routine, under which all mental elasticity is lost. Auerbach, in 
 
The Knliiirhimpf. 317 
 
 Lis "Ivo der I T Yrli," give a sketch of tlie narrowing, indepen- 
 dence- k i lling course of education in the seminary; but it might 
 be objected that Auerbach as a Jew drew on his imagination, and 
 could not know of the course by experience. But several Catholic 
 writers have protested against it. 1 A Catholic priest thus sums up 
 the results of the seminary system: — "Even the economic arrange- 
 ment of the institution leads to bad results. No privacy. One 
 room for common play, one for common work. In the dormitories 
 no stove — nowhere a corner where a man may be alone and work 
 for himself, or rest himself. Manliness, which the youth is put- 
 ting on, and which gives dignity to morality and piety, self-respect 
 and reverence for the priestly vocation, all are wanting. Bigotry, 
 cant, hypocrisy, servility, are the natural fruit of such an insti- 
 tution, and the nobler spirits note with sorrow how that coarse 
 and stupid comrades push ahead of them by an affectation of piety 
 and grovelling servility. When the alumniate is over, the semi- 
 narist goes forth heartless and mindless, to be the comforter and 
 teacher and friend of humanity." 2 This is no doubt not applicable 
 to all seminaries. It is the description of one in Breslau. But 
 all labour under the same inherent defect, they cramp instead of 
 enlarging the mind. To rectify this, — to give to the German 
 Catholic clergy wider sympathies, more range of knowledge, and 
 a more thorough experimental knowledge of human nature, the 
 law of 1873 was passed. Bat Baden had attacked the seminary 
 system before Prussia. In 18G8 the Baden Government ordered 
 that all boys in the Little Seminary should attend the public 
 schools, and that the candidates for the priesthood of riper years 
 in the Greater Seminary or " Convikt " should pass examination in 
 three faculties in addition to theology, and spend three years in 
 the university. It went further. It disqualified every priest 
 from holding a cure of souls, who had been ordained since 1863, 
 unless he submitted to examination by a State commission ; and 
 required every priest holding a charge to be re-examined by com- 
 missioners in his "'ologies" two or three years after ordination, 
 
 1 Die Katlioluclie Geistlichlceit im neunzehnten Jahrhundert. Frankfort a. M. 
 1817. Ueber zeitijemlisse Bildung und Bildungsanstalten Katholischer Gtidlichen. 
 Hamm. 1821. Die Katholisehe Kirche, besonders in Schlesien .... Yon einem 
 Kutkolischen Geistliehen. Altemb. 1827, &c. 
 
 * The last-quoted book, p. 31-5. 
 
318 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 and if lie had not kept up his secular studies, to be dismissed from 
 hi* pastoral cure. This last provision has, however, been with- 
 drawn, and the Prussian law adopted, which requires examination 
 in three secular subjects before ordination. 
 
 The instructions given July 26, 1873, by Dr. Falk, "Minister 
 of Ecclesiastical, Educational, and Medical Affairs," on the manner 
 of carrying out the law of May 11, requires that the three sub- 
 jects shall be Philosophy, History, and German Literature. They 
 provide : — 
 
 " A. Philosophy : — That the candidate shall have a satisfactory 
 knowledge of the various systems of philosophy, and be so far 
 acquainted with the history of Philosophy as to be able to give an 
 intelligible account of the characteristics of the epoch-making 
 systems, and of their relation to one another. He shall also have 
 a close acquaintance with psychology and logic, and with those 
 systems of scientific education which have influenced instruction 
 and culture dining the last two centuries. 
 
 " B. History : — That the candidate shall be possessed of a clear 
 outline of the development of the history of the world, and be 
 acquainted with the history of the last three centuries, especially 
 with that of Germany, both in the broader and narrower sense of 
 that word. It shall be seen especially that the candidate have a 
 clear conception of the ruling and motive ideas in these periods, 
 which affected both politics and civilisation. The future vocation 
 of the candidate requires that he shall know ecclesiastical history, 
 and that he shall be able to show what influence Eeligion and the 
 Church exercised on civil life and national culture. 
 
 " C. German Literature : — In this department it must be 
 ascertained that the candidate is acquainted with the inner 
 developing forces and historic moments which conduced to arrest 
 or advance German literature. The candidate shall be proved by 
 examination to be not unacquainted with any important con- 
 tributor to German national literature, especially during the last 
 two centuries, and must be able to give an account of the drift of 
 the most important classic works." 
 
 That this law tells hardly on the Church can be denied by no 
 unprejudiced person. It is, moreover, scarcely fair, and therefore 
 has the aspect of persecution. For this examination is imposed 
 only on candidates for the ministry. It is not required of law and 
 
The Kulturha/mpf. 310 
 
 medical students. These latter are free to devote the three years 
 of their university life to the study of their special subjects. But 
 the Government requires the candidates for the priesthood to take 
 up these subjects in addition to theology. The consequence is, 
 that a theological student finds his time completely taken up with 
 them, and his divinity studies have to be laid aside. 
 
 It is hard on the Church in another way. The education of a 
 priest is now wholly taken out of the hands of the Church from 
 his fifth to his twenty-fourth year. At the age of five, the boy 
 destined for the ministry goes into the public school, and is drafted 
 thence into the Lyceum, a Government grammar-school. He re- 
 mains there till he is twenty, under tutors and professors appointed 
 by the State ; the teaching, where possible, made anti-Catholic. 1 
 Before leaving school he has to undergo examination before a 
 Government commission ; if he passes, he receives his ticket of 
 discharge, or absoluturium. Th-n he is liable to military service. 
 If he has issued from examination in the first class, he is entitled 
 to serve one year instead of three. He becomes an Einjahriger. 
 But he may postpone his military service till he has gone through 
 his university course, and this is generally done. When the three 
 years in the university are over, he goes into the army, and is 
 drilled for a twelvemonth. As an Einjahriger he receives no pay, 
 and has to find his own uniform and board and lodge at his own 
 cost. When the year is over, the Church insists on his spending 
 one year in a seminary, in converse with his own heart, and in 
 theological studies. It was quite impossible for him to attend to 
 these whilst at the university. Consequently, a candidate for the 
 priesthood is made a burden to his parents for five-and-twenty 
 years. 
 
 And the expense of training for the Church is increased four- 
 fold by the compulsory closing of the Little Seminary and the 
 "Convikt," which were boarding-schools and colleges for students. 
 The Church is now forbidden to provide cheap lodging-houses fur 
 poor boys and men preparing for her ministry. A bauer in the 
 country was formerly able to send his son to the town for educa- 
 
 1 As in the teaching of history. I have by me a pamphlet of 112 pages 
 (Baden in den Jahren 1852-77) of a decided anti-Catholic tendency: this was 
 given away gratis to all the scholars in at least one Government school in which 
 nine out of ten pupils were Catholics. 
 
o'20 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 tion, as the cost was not great, when a couple of hundred hoys 
 lived together; and ho did not shrink from doing so, knowing that 
 his hoy was undor supervision, and in the charge of responsible 
 persons. But he cannot do so now, as the seminary is closed. His 
 wra, were ho sent to the Latin school, must he put in private 
 lodgings, and he under no supervision out of school hours. I have 
 
 been given the prospectus of a hoarding-school 'of a Rev. Dr. ' 
 
 who, before latitudinarianism was fashionable in the Protestant 
 Church, was imprisoned and then expelled his cure for denying 
 the Trinity and the Incarnation. He has now a large establishment 
 for boarders, who attend the public schools, and live with him, 
 and he takes care to educate them in his rationalism. This is 
 allowed, but Catholics are not allowed to have boarding-schools for 
 their boys. What is sauce for the goose is not sauce for the gander. 
 It was "excellent-right," for the Government to insist on boys, 
 candidates for the ministry, attending the State schools; but to 
 forbid the Church to open a " pension " for them out of school 
 hours, in which they may be bedded and boarded at a cheap rate, 
 is an injustice. 
 
 The " Convikt" was a college in which the theological students 
 lodged and took their meals together, and where they met in 
 chapel for common devotion. It was the only attempt made in 
 Germany to follow the English college system. But the " Con- 
 vikts" have been closed, wardens and pupils turned into the street, 
 and the empty corridors, halls, and bedrooms left to the spider 
 and the bat. The State will not allow the young man studying 
 for the ministry to be under any moral and religious influences 
 and restraints during his university career. He must lodge at a 
 milliner's or a glove-shop, and dine at a tavern. This not only 
 dissipates his religious impressions, but makes his university life 
 expensive. As the Roman Catholic clergy are recruited almost 
 wholly from the class of small farmers, the law of May 1 1 has cut 
 off the supply at its s-ource. The little bauer cannot bear the pro- 
 tracted expense. The great bauer will hardly deem the poor 
 pittance of some 251. to 3<l. per annum offered to a' priest a 
 sufficient return for the great outlay of the education of a son for 
 the Church. 
 
 The Church, moreover, may well complain that she is not 
 allowed by the touch of her little finger to direct the studies and 
 
The KulturJcampf. 321 
 
 control the education of the young whom she desires to see 
 minister at her altars. They are only handed over to her grudg- 
 ingly at the age of four-and-twenty, but then they are men worth 
 having, educated and approved. The seminary system encouraged 
 the bringing up of youths for the priesthood who had no vocation 
 for it, but who were forced into orders by their fathers. Only 
 the very courageous could defy the wrath of their fathers, like 
 Auerbach's " Ivo," when they were sure they were on a wrong 
 path. One whose education had cost much money felt bound to 
 adopt the profession, in the preparation for which, and disqualifica- 
 tion for any other, this money had been spent. Consequently the 
 Koman Church has suffered fioni the influx of men to whom their 
 calling has been a burden, and who have executed their ministry 
 without heart. This cannot occur now. All her priests will be 
 self- devoted. Whether the results will be such as the State 
 anticipates is, however, questionable. A candidate who goes 
 through school, university, and army, retaining his purpose, must 
 be a zealot. Now those who entered the ministry because destined 
 for it by their pai-ents have never proved to be bigots. They 
 make tolerant, liberal-minded parish priests. Bat those who have 
 devoted themselves, and gone through the ordeal imposed by the 
 State, will be firebrands. The years between fifteen and twenty- 
 four are, as every one knows who has to do with youths, seasons 
 of exaltation of the imaginative faculties. They are the years of 
 romance, of idealism. It is the period when God or woman 
 occupies the thrnne of the heart, the period when, perhaps, the 
 soul sees God as He is, and woman as she might be, but too often 
 is not. A religious enthusiast, trained under a military system, 
 which is ever hampering his pursuit of the object of his life, will 
 nurture a hatred of the obstructive power. At the same time he 
 will take the impress of the system, and will carry into the Church 
 the idea of absolutism as the only possible form of government. 
 Trained under military dictatorship, he will view with contempt 
 the roundabout methods of constitutionalism. He has it ui sred 
 on him all his life that allegiance must be undivided, and when 
 he becomes a priest, he will feel that he has passed into another 
 army, and he will transfer his allegiance entire to his new superior 
 the Pope. He has been taught that God and Ceesar, the Church 
 and the Empiie, cannot be served at once, and he will regard them 
 
 Y 
 
322 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 as hostile principles and powers. He will view himself as pledged 
 by his ordination to his new master, to wage unflagging warfare 
 with the secular power which is anti-ecclesiastical and anti- 
 Christian. 
 
 Again, the State examinations are conducted by Government 
 commissioners, who may be, and generally are, Protestants, more 
 or less broad, and certainly anti-Catholic, for the purpose of 
 assuring the State that the candidate does not harbour reactionary 
 political, philosophic, and religious views. He is catechised on 
 burning questions, and chief attention is directed to the Reforma- 
 tion and the two subsequent centuries. A Catholic regards the 
 movements of minds and principles in these three hundred years 
 from altogether another point of view than that occupied by a 
 Protestant. The State is determined to force every candidate to 
 occupy this latter point, or it will cast him off, and refuse him a 
 place in the pastorate of the Catholic Church. The inevitable 
 result will be, that the candidate under examination will answer 
 only as he is required, and will reserve his own opinions for ex- 
 pression elsewhere, and at another time. What other fruit can this 
 system produce, save lying and dissimulation. 
 
 If the Government system be carried into effect, it will fill the 
 Catholic Church in Germany with a priesthood as jesuitically 
 minded as the sons of Loyola. It is rarely that a Jesuit has been 
 trained in the seminaries ordered by the Council of Trent. The 
 Jesuit has been recruited from the ranks of the army, and from 
 men of high but not broad culture, who are psychologically in- 
 capable of entering into the movement of modern ideas. They 
 are men whose brains have but one hemisphere, though that 
 hemisphere may be a large one. They are born conservatives and 
 bigots, as some men are born colour-blind or without musical ear. 
 
 The law of May 11 would not have killed, it would only have 
 maimed the Catholic priesthood, and the German bishops and 
 clergy would have submitted under protest. 1 But imperative 
 orders came from Rome that a determined resistance was to be 
 offered. Priests were not to submit to examination. Bishops were 
 not to ordain certificated candidates. 
 
 The Jesuits were the authors of this injunction. The Jesuits 
 
 1 In one archbishopric the majority of the curia voted for submission. There 
 were, if the writer be correctly informed, only three dissentient voices. 
 
The KidturJcampf. 323 
 
 never forgive an enemy, or fail to resent an injury. They had 
 been expelled Germany, and their expulsion must be avenged. 
 The temporal power will never be restored with the consent of 
 the Empire. For the restoration of the temporal power, which 
 will give them firm foothold on the steps of the Apostolic throne, 
 they will dare and do anything. Their only hope, and' that a 
 forlorn one, is in France, in a future royalist or imperial France. 
 They will leave no stone unturned to break down the Republic, 
 and they will spare no effort to break up the Empire. Till the 
 French Republic is supplanted by a despotism, Rome will never 
 be wrested from Italy and restored to the Papacy. And till 
 German unity has fallen to pieces, France will be unable to move 
 the restitution of the temporal power. 
 
 But the Society of Jesus was powerless in Germany — how 
 powerless none knew better than themselves — till the unfortunate 
 law of May 11 gave them the lever. By its means, with an in- 
 genuity that cannot but be admired, but also with an unscrupulous- 
 ness that can only arouse abhorrence, they have been enabled in 
 their banishment to do a thousand times more than they could 
 have effected by their presence. 
 
 The German bauer is rough and hard — but, like the cocoa-nut, 
 he has his soft points. Sigefried was made all horny in dragon's 
 bluod save where a linden leaf fell between his shoulders. A 
 pretty hard and horny composition encases the bauer, but he is 
 vulnerable in three spots : his pocket, his heart, and his soul. 
 These are his three soft spots, like "the monkey's face" in the 
 cocoa-nut. Unfortunately the Empire has run a gimlet into all 
 three. The cost of the army has increased every year. This 
 means enormously increased taxation and cost of living. The 
 bauer with his small farm cannot stand this. The result has been 
 a great increase of poverty : farms sold, and peasant yeomen re- 
 duced to penury. The proposed Government monopoly of tobacco 
 will make his one solace in his troubles an expense to him which 
 he cannot indulge in freely. Universal military service has broken 
 up his family. When he needs his sons to work for him on the 
 farm, they are taken away from him, and he has to hire labour and 
 support his son in the barrack at the same time. 
 
 The young man cannot marry, for he cannot earn a livelihood 
 till he has done with his three years' military service. Increased 
 
324 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 taxation and universal conscription have told on the statistics 
 of marriage. In 1872, when the population was 41,000,000, the 
 marriages were 423,900 ; in 1876, when the population was 
 42,000,000, they had sunk to 300,912. Mililary service, as a rule, 
 obliges every man to put off marrying three years ; as a youth 
 only begins to work for his livelihood at twenty-three instead of 
 at twenty, as formerly. There can be no question that the great 
 increase of cost of living and taxation, and compulsory military 
 service, have been severely felt in South Germany, and have made 
 Prussia unpopular. 
 
 The May laws have been utilised by the Jesuits for bringing 
 the iron of Prussian despotism into the very soul of the bauer. It 
 is the law of May 11 that has emptied the episcopal thrones of 
 Germany, and left many parishes void of pastors. A people groan- 
 ing under increased burdens, with a budget like the horse-leech 
 that cries ever, " Give, give ! " with their families broken up, their 
 business interrupted, their savings wasted by compulsory military 
 service, are hardly likely to endure patiently the closing of their 
 chinches, and themselves condemned to marry and die without the 
 minislrations of religion. 
 
 Let us see what the condition is to which the Eoman Church 
 has been brought in Germany. 
 
 When a parish priest dies, the bishop seeks to replace him ; but 
 the State will not allow one uncertificated to be instituted, and the 
 Court of Rome forbids priests qualifying themselves by examina- 
 tion before the State. If the bishop appoints to the spiritual over- 
 sight of a vacant parish, as he sometimes does, the Government 
 proceed against him, and he is fined or imprisoned ; till at last, to 
 escape perpetual imprisonment, he leaves Germany, and rules his 
 diocese by letter from Rome, Holland, or Austria. He is then 
 declared deposed, and the revenues of the see are placed by Govern- 
 ment in the hands of a steward (Verwaltcr'), to secure their not 
 being forwarded to the exile. 
 
 If a bishop dies, no successor can be appointed, for no bishop 
 would be elected by the Chapter, who would take the oath exacted 
 by the State, and which requires promise of submission to the laws 
 to which he is forbidden by Rome to bow. 
 
 Thus death or banishment has emptied all the archbishoprics 
 and bishoprics of Prussia, except Culm, Hildesheim, and Ermeland. 
 
Tlie Kulturkampf. 325 
 
 The Archbishoprics of Koln, Trier, and Gnesen-Posen are 
 vacated by deposition after imprisonment and fine. 
 
 So the Prince-Bishopric of Breslau, and the Bishoprics of Mini- 
 ster and Winburg. 
 
 The Archbishopric of Freiburg in Baden is left vacant by 
 death ; so also Mainz in Hesse, Fulda, Osnabriick, and Paderborn. 
 
 When a bishop dies the diocese is governed from Rome, that is, 
 by the Jesuits, through certain accredited agents — in one arch- 
 diocese by a renegade Jew and a converted Protestant. The 
 Roman Curia has no pleasure in seeing dioceses like Rottenburg 
 and Pas.sau at peace under their bishops. Whilst the bishop is in 
 his throne, the Curia is kept out, at least from direct rule. 
 
 When a diocese is vacated by deposition, the Chapter are 
 required to nominate a successor. This they refuse to do, as they 
 do not regard the State as competent to deprive a bishop of his 
 pastoral charge, though they do not deny that it may withdraw 
 from him pecuniary grants. 
 
 When a diocese is vacated by death in Prussia the law of 
 December 6, 1873, bars the way to its being filled. In Baden the 
 Archdiocese of Freiburg has been for ten years without a pastor. 
 The Chapter was required to elect a successor on the death of 
 Archbishop Vicari in 1868. According to precedent a list of eight 
 names was sent to the Grand Duke. He scored out seven, and 
 sent back orders to the Curia of Freiburg to draw up another list 
 of candidates more acceptable to the Government. Rome interfered 
 and forbade the Chapter doing this; and since then the diocese 
 has been without a chief pastor, managed by Rome through its 
 agents in the local curia. 
 
 Full particulars of the spiritual destitution are not accessible, 
 but the condition of several dioceses is known, and can be given as 
 typical of the rest. 
 
 Dr. Brinkmann, Bishop of Miinster, in Westphalia, was 
 deposed by decree of the High Court of Ecclesiastical Affairs 
 (Obergerichtshof fur Mrckliche Amjelegenheiten) in Berlin on March 8, 
 1876, and lives in exile, along with his Vicar-General, Dr. Giese, 
 who has fled the country to escape imprisonment. The episcopal 
 palace is now occupied by the Government Verwalter, a Protestant, 
 named Gedike. As the suffragan bishop is dead, since 1875 there 
 have been neither confirmations nor ordinations in Miinster. The 
 
32G Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 Chapter has lost by death its provost, dean, and a vicar choral. Bv 
 January 1, 1878, seventy parishes, that is, more than 21 per cent, 
 of the whole in the diocese, had lost their pastors. In thirteen of 
 these there is no priest at all, and the sacrament has been removed 
 from the churches, and the perpetual lamp extinguished. In these 
 priest less parish churches, at the hour of mass the congregation 
 assembles, the altar candles are lighted, the bell rings, and two 
 servers in surplices kneel before the altar in silence, and the whole 
 congiegation spend an hour in reciting German eucharistic prayers. 
 
 Occasionally a Gesperrter, i.e. a priest unlicensed by the State, 
 says a private mass in the sacristy, with locked doors, whilst the 
 congregation attend in the church. A Gesperrter, were he to say 
 mass or exercise any ministerial function in a church, or in a room 
 to which the doors were not locked, would be liable to a fine or 
 imprisonment. 
 
 Besides seventy parishes, there were also in 1878 three rectories 
 and forty-nine curacies vacant. Moreover, the churches of the 
 Jesuits, Capuchins, and the chapels of the Sisters of the Sacred 
 Heart, of the Visitation, the Poor Clares, etc., have been closed, 
 and these served formerly the purpose of parish churches. Thus, 
 including clergy of religious orders, 195 having cure of souls have 
 vacated their cures by death or banishment. In the Archdiocese 
 of Freiburg there fortunately remains a suffragan (Weihbischof). 
 For having instituted to vacant incumbencies he has been several 
 times had up before the court and fined. On refusing to pay the 
 fine his lodgings have been entered by the gendarmes, and his 
 poor little personal effects sold in the street before hip door by 
 public auction, till the sum of the fine was realized. • It may well 
 be imagined that such a proceeding is calculated to exasperate 
 Catholic feeling against the Government. In this archdiocese, 
 between November 1, 1876, and Octo*ber 31, 1877, thirty-seven 
 priests died, in the previous year thirty-two died ; thus in two 
 years sixty-nine vacancies have occurred ; many churches are with- 
 out pastors, and old incumbents are without curates. 
 
 In the Archdiocese of Cologne, out of 813 parishes, at the end 
 of 1880 there were 199 vacant. In the diocese of Limburg, of 150 
 parishes, 30 are priestless. In the Prussian portion of the Arch- 
 diocese of Olmiitz, 38 parish churches and 8 district churches, in all 
 46, are bereft of their pastors, and 125,000 souls are without the' 
 
The Kulturhampf. 327 
 
 ministrations of religion. In the diocese of Puderborn, of 467 
 parish churches, 112, nearly a quarter, are vacant. In the diocese 
 of Breslau (Prussian portion), of 753 parishes, 160 are without 
 pastors ; to these must be added 95 district churches vacant, 
 making in all 255 vacancies. Ten churches, moreover, are filled 
 with State-appointed Tfarrers, who have received no episcopal com- 
 mission, and whose ministrations are refused by the parishioners. 1 
 There are 371,059 souls in these ten parishes. The number of souls 
 without pastors in January, 1881, was half a million. In the 
 diocese of Hildesheim 25 parishes were at the same date without 
 incumbents ; in this diocese there remain only 117 parochial clergy, 
 of these 29 are aged over 60. The Cathedral Chapter has been 
 reduced by death to four canons. At Fulda the Cathedral Chapter is 
 represented by one old man. In the diocese of Posen, at the end of 
 December, 1880, there were 129 vacant parishes; in that of Culm 
 44 are piiestless ; in that of Limburg there are. 30 vacancies, 
 leaving 45,500 souls pastorless. In Minister there are 111 pastor- 
 less paiisiies, with a population of 256,000 souls. In the diocese 
 of Trier, out of 731 parishes, 240 are vacant, that is, about a third 
 of the entire number, and a population of 150,000 souls is de- 
 pi ived of the ministry of religion. From this diocese the bishop is 
 banished, and the dean and three canons and two minor canons have 
 died since the beginning of the Kulturkampf. The Seminary is 
 broken up by order of Government, and the " Convikt," or school for 
 those preparing for orders, instead of containing 200 \ upils as it 
 did in 1871, contains now a single candidate. It was stated in the 
 Prussian Assembly that in 1880 there were a thousand parishes 
 without priests in Prussia. 
 
 A few examples from the newspapers of December, 1877, and 
 January, 1878, will show how the May laws have been enforced on 
 individuals. 
 
 The priest Melap, of Striilen, visiting his parents at Cleves, 
 ventured to say mass one morning in the church. He was arrested 
 
 1 In 1877, in Gross-Strelitz, the Staatspfarrer Miieke was called to minister 
 to three only of 140 Catholics who died. In Gross-Rudnos, among 200 births, 
 the Staatspfarrer was required to baptise only seven : of these three were illegi- 
 timate children. Of 160 who died, he was required to bury only two. He 
 blessed one marriage, and was not called in to administer the last sacraments in 
 a single case. His congregatian numbers from fifteen to twenty. 
 
328 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 by the gendarmes, and as he could not produce his ticket to show 
 that he had passed the State examination, ho was taken before the 
 magistrates, and sentenced, on December 11, to pay fifty marks or 
 undergo five days' imprisonment. 
 
 On December 20, the priest Hax, of Udenbreth, was fined 
 twenty marks for performing some religious functions in the 
 parish of Miirringen, void of pastor. 
 
 At Gorloczyn, in West Prussia, the curate Zielak was lodging 
 with his brother last Corpus Christi day. On that festival he 
 ventured to join the procession in surplice and stole, and read the 
 Gospel at one of the stations. He neither said mass nor preached, 
 but for simply reading in public a few verses of St. John's Gospel, 
 without having been qualified to do so by the State, he was 
 arrested, and on December 14 was fined fifteen marks. 
 
 December 14, the priest Block, of Schwetz, was fined 200 marks 
 or two weeks' imprisonment for having performed religious ser- 
 vices in the parish of Dittrichswalde, which is without priest. 
 
 In the same month the chaplain Lohers was sentenced to eight 
 days' imprisonment or payment of fifteen marks for having con- 
 ducted a procession to Werl on October 7, ho being without his 
 ticket. 
 
 In August last the police arrested the priest Czechowski, of 
 Gryzyn, who is not State-appointed to the chaplaincy of the 
 hospital at Kosten, having been told that he hud visited the 
 patients and ministered to them. But having no evidence on 
 which to convict him, they proceeded to arrest the Sisters of 
 Mercy who nurse the sick in the hospital. The sisteis refused to 
 give the required evidence, whereupon they w r ere imprisoned. 
 Two were kept in confinement nearly two months, the others ten 
 weeks, and were released on December 1 4. Then the police took 
 up Dr. Bojanowski, the physician attending the hospital, and on 
 December 17 arrested his wife. On December 27, Frau Bo- 
 janowski, for refusing to give evidence, was fined 100 marks. On 
 January 5, 1878, as Dr. Bojanowski refused to pay the fine, the 
 police entered his house and sold his goods by auction, till the sum 
 required was raised. A merchant bought the articles and at once 
 restored them to the doctor. The same day Frau Bojanowski was 
 again brought before court to be put on her oath to give evidence 
 which might convict the priest. She again refused, and was fined 
 
The Kulturkampf. 825) 
 
 a fain 100 marks, and on January 18 was threatened with a third 
 fine of 150 marks. 
 
 At Hemra a man desired to marry his sister-in-law. The pair 
 went to Dean Tesborn and stated their wish. Such a marriage 
 can only take place by dispensation, as the relationship is within 
 the forbidden degrees. The dean said they were to come again at 
 the end of a fortnight, and when they did return he informed 
 them that the difficulty was overcome, and he married them. 
 Thereupon the police pounced on the bride and bridegroom and 
 brought them before the court, to obtain from them evidence that 
 the dean was in communication with Eome. If they could obtain 
 this evidence, Dean Tesborn would be subjected to fine or im- 
 prisonment. 
 
 January 20. — The priest Nawrocki was convicted of having 
 exercised pastoral charge of the parish of Gosciefzyn without 
 licence from the State. He was sentenced to pay 1,620 marks or 
 162 days' imprisonment. 
 
 The story of the Marpingen vision is pretty well known. It 
 is a German version of Lourdes— a case of delusion rather than 
 of deception. The news of the Virgin having appeared to children 
 naturally attracted crowds to the wood where the vision was 
 snpposed to have been seen. The State interfered, soldiers were 
 placed round the wood, and access to it was forbidden. At the 
 close of December a number of the inhabitants of Marpingen were 
 arrested, brought before the magistrates, and fined various sums 
 for having lodged and fed pilgrims visiting the scene of the 
 supposed vision ! 
 
 Instances of this sort might be multiplied. 
 
 In Germany the Stadtrath — the city corporation — has far more 
 power than in an English town. 
 
 Auerbach, in his " Befehlerles," laments that a German func- 
 tionary seems possessed with the idea that he is appointed by 
 Government to overawe and bully the weak. 
 
 A town council is composed generally of very prejudiced men 
 without the smallest conception of liberty, as it is understood in 
 England, and with the largest ideas of their own importance. 
 They issue proclamations ordering the killing of cockchafers in 
 May and the cooping in of pigeons from March to June. They 
 have the chimneys swept in every house, and the cesspools emptied 
 
330 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 at times that suit tlieir agents, not the householders' convenience. 
 Every dog and horse is had up before the proper authorities, 
 examined and doomed or let live, without appeal. In poliiical 
 matters they nail their weathercocks in the direction whence tho 
 wind blows in higher quarters. What is done by Parliament is 
 aped by the town council. Stadti tithe are incapable of perceiving 
 how far they ought to go in a certain direction and where they 
 should stop. Consequently, in seeking to carry out the intentions 
 of the Government, they very often embarrass it by exaggerated 
 severity or ludicrous pettiness. In the way in which they have 
 carried on the Kulturkampf they have done their best to bring it 
 to a reductio ad absurdum. 
 
 Let us take a single instance. 
 
 When the Government dissolved the religious communities and 
 charged itself with the education of the people, it acted- with a 
 certain amount of inconsistency. 
 
 No private school for boys is allowed to exist except for very 
 young boys of the upper classes, whose parents object to sending 
 them to the Volksschule, where they may bring away with them 
 more in their heads than ABC. But with girls it is otherwise. 
 Government does allow private schools, both day and boarding, 
 for them, if the teachers have duly qualified themselves by re- 
 ceiving a Government certificate of competence. The State did 
 not undertake the charge of female education; it simply abolished 
 the religious schools conducted by orders in the Boman Church. 
 The sisters were expelled their houses, their lands taken from 
 them, and they were forbidden to wear an ecclesiastical habit. But 
 they are .still, in theory, allowed to teach, and open private schools 
 — only these must be in hired houses, and the sisters may not live 
 together ■in community. At Bruchsal, in January, 1878, the Ursu- 
 lines were turned out of their house by the Stadtrath, their 
 school broken up, and the members of the community were for- 
 bidden not only to reopen a private school in a hired house, but 
 even to give lessons in music and French, so as to earn a liveli- 
 hood. As they are obliged by the law to dress fashionably, they 
 ought, in common fairness, to be allowed the privilege accorded to 
 any dancing-mistress. At Constance the sisters have not yet been 
 turned out of their Kloster ; but they dare not admit new members 
 into their community. 
 
The Kulturkampf. 331 
 
 But the story of the Ursulines of Freiburg is the best example 
 of the extremities to which the Dogberries of a German town 
 council will proceed. 
 
 The Ursuline Society is one of the lightest in discipline. The 
 sisters do not take life-vows, but only vows of obedience to the 
 superior for three years. So hostile to the Catholic Church has 
 the Baden Government been, that for the last eighteen years the 
 Ursulines have not ventured to renew their vows. The Ureujines 
 of Freiburg possessed a large convent with garden, vineyards, and 
 meadows. For the last two hundred years they have kept a schuol 
 for poor girls, which has been attended by a thousand children 
 annually, whose parents paid for their education fuur marks, or a 
 shilling a quarter. This sum, however, was paid over to the town 
 council, which returned a part of it only to the sisterhood. This 
 little sum did not suffice for the maintenance of the school, con- 
 sequently the sisters established, about fifty years ago, a boarding- 
 school for girls of a better class, and with them taught also day 
 scholars of the same class. It was the proceeds of this school 
 which supported the large and almost free one. 
 
 On July 1, 1877, the town took possession of the convent and 
 appropriated the school buildings and all the fittings of the school, 
 desks, blackboards, books, etc , as well as the furniture of the con- 
 vent — beds, tables, wash-hand basins ; also all the landed property 
 of the sisterhood. The town surveyor roughly estimated this 
 latter alone at 11,500Z. It need scarcely be said that it was worth 
 more. The convent and school-buildings were not valued. As 
 compensation for this spoliation twenty of the sifters have been 
 given pensions varying from 7/. 10s. to 201. Two only receive 
 20Z. The average is 10Z. The superior has been accorded 30Z. 
 The town offered to allow the sisters to remain in the convent on 
 condition that they should act as salaried schoolmistresses of the 
 town, subject to dismissal at the will of the Stadtrath, and that 
 they should receive among them such additional teachers as the 
 town council chose to appoint ; but as no guarantee would be 
 given that these should not be Protestants or Jewesses, or of no 
 religion, it was impossible for the Ursulines to accept conditions 
 which would have broken up their community life. They declined, 
 and were expelled their buildings, and were allowed to take with 
 them only such articles as they could prove were the private 
 
332 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 property of each sibter, brought with her into the convent, or for 
 which she could produce a hill to show that it had been bought by 
 her in her own name since she had been in the house. So grasping 
 did the Stadtrath prove, that, after the superior had gone into 
 private lodgings, and the sisters were dispersed to Austria, Switzer- 
 land, and France, a demand was made by the council for three 
 articles which it charged her with fraudulently appropriating. 
 These articles were an oil-painting she had found in the garret 
 of the convent rolled up and much defaced, and which she had 
 restored at her own expense ; also a little pectoral cross given to 
 her predeccs-or by the mother of the present Grand Duke, with a 
 written request that she and her successors would always wear it; 
 and, thirdly, a pair of drawing-room candlesticks, presented to 
 the late superior on her birthday by some of the pupils of the 
 upper school. The superior appealed to the Grand Duke, who 
 coldly replied, that if the town cho.-e again to insist on claiming 
 these articles, he could not interfere. And tnere the matter 
 remains at present. 
 
 The town council have also sent in a bill to the superior for all 
 the expensas of the cultivation of the land, vineyards, gardens, 
 etc., from May 7, 1877, 1 to the end of September, when the sister- 
 hood cleared out of the buildings. That is to say, they are to pay 
 for the cultivation of the land and vines, the crops of which were 
 enjoyed by the town. This the superior has refused to pay, and 
 the question is still undecided. 
 
 No sooner was the society expelled, than the superior, who 
 retained two or three sisters with her, made formal demand for 
 permission to continue her private day-school. Private girls'- 
 schools are permitted, and there are several in Freiburg. But that 
 of the TJrsulines was regarded as the best by far, and Protestant 
 pastors and Jews sent their daughters to it, in full confidence that 
 their religious convictions would not be tampered with. Insult 
 was added to injury. No notice was taken of the application. 
 
 For six months the pupils came, but the superior did not dare 
 to form them into classes, lest she should make heiself amenable 
 to the laws, which forbid the opening of schools without licence. 
 
 1 The convent was suppressed on April 17, and from May 7 began the pay- 
 ment of the pension. 
 
The Kultwrkampf. 333 
 
 It was only when she had made personal applicition to the Grand 
 Duke that a tardy permission was accorded her. 
 
 The suppression of the Ursuline school for poor children was 
 not effected without monster demonstrations of indignation, and 
 appeals against it were numerously signed, hut treated as waste- 
 paper by town council and Government alike. 1 
 
 These acts of bigoted injustice unfortunately distract attention 
 from the real grounds of the quarrel. The Catholics smart under 
 present wrongs, and do not consider why it is that they are made 
 to smart. If a flight is to be got out of a kite, it is not by jerking 
 at its tail, but by pulling at it from a distance. If German 
 Catholic opinion is worked into fury against the Empire, it will 
 he by the Jesuits working the thread from afar. 
 
 It is said that Prince Bismarck is now desirous of conciliating: 
 the Catholics, to gain their support against the National Liberals. 
 For this end mutual concessions will 'be made. Ultramontanism, 
 as a political factor, is a creation of the Chancellor. He has made 
 the existence of Catholics under the Empire intolerable to them, 
 and they have combined to oppose his favourite measures. But 
 Boinan Catholics have no strong or radical prejudice against the 
 Empire. They have suffered more in petty States than in great 
 kingdoms, and under Grand Dukes far wo:se things than under 
 Eiuperors. In spite of every attempt to excite the people made by 
 the Jesuits, they have sat composedly expecting a change. They 
 have felt that a great injustice has been done them, and that this 
 will be recognised and redressed in the end. I was speaking to 
 an old sacristan at Treves when the bishop was in exile, and one 
 of the paiish priests in prison. "It will pass," he said. "Once 
 the Mosel ran with Christian blood to Mehring, and afterwards 
 Consiantine gave his palace for a cathedral. Governments are 
 like women ; they don't know their own minds, and change 
 humour daily. Massacre did not kill the Church fifteen hundred 
 years ago, and nagging won't hurt her now." 
 
 Such, then, was the situation of affairs, such the state of conflict, 
 up to February, 1880, when a remarkable concession was made in 
 Baden : a compromise was effected, which there can be little doubt 
 will in time be followed throughout Germany. It was in Baden — 
 
 1 The school, which cost the town nothing up to July 1877, cost the towu 
 ?>0,000 marks for the halt-year ending Dec. 31, 1S77. 
 
33-i Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 so intimately allied with Prussia — that the first experiments were 
 made in fighting the Catholic Church in the name of Modern 
 Culture, and it is in Baden that a compromise has first been 
 arrived at. For some time the Grand Duke has been dissatisfied 
 at the condition to which the Kulturkampf had brought his 
 Catholic subjects. He is reported to have said that the desolate 
 parishes had cost him many tears. Even the Liberals began to 
 feel that a huge mistake had been made, and in the Baden 
 Chamber of Eepresentatives in February, 1880, the intolerable 
 restraints that had been placed on the clergy were swept wholly 
 away. The old priests were no longer to be required to pass 
 examination, nor the candidates for Orders to be subjected to 
 examination by commissioners of the State before they were 
 allowed to be ordained. The virtual Bishop is no longer to be 
 fined or imprisoned if he appoints to vacant parishes ; and on the 
 other hand, the Pope has consented that all the clergy shall apply 
 to the State for diplomas acknowledging them as Catholic priests 
 recognised by the State in Baden and authorised to receive the 
 temporalities of their cures. The Archbishopric of Freiburg is 
 still vacant, in the eye of the State, but the people and clergy 
 have long recognised as their spiritual head Dr. von Kiibbel, elected 
 in 1868, but twice refused by the Grand Duke. There can be 
 little doubt that in time an accommodation will be arrived at on 
 this point also. Meanwhile the Prussian Government stands by 
 watching the result of this concession in Baden, disposed also to 
 make terms, but not willing to even seem to be on the road to 
 Canossa. 
 
 There has been much that has been right in principle in the 
 Kulturkampf, but the way in which it has been carried out has 
 been a great wrong. 
 
 It was right that the education of the country should have 
 been taken under the supervision and control of the State. It was 
 right that those destined for the priesthood should be given some- 
 thing more liberal than the seminary system. 
 
 But it was wrong that these measures should have been carried 
 out with violence, petty persecution, and injustice. Injustice is 
 wrong, even in a right cause. 
 
( 335 ) 
 
 CIIAPTEE XL 
 
 PROTESTANTISM. 
 
 More liirht and light ! — more dark and dark our woes. 
 
 Borneo and Juliet, act iii. sc. 5 
 
 A late Esquire Bedell of Cambridge, who, for thirty years, had 
 executed his office of convoying the Vice-Chancellor to St. Mary's 
 Church to hear the University sermon, was wont to say, " For 
 more than a quarter of a century I have heard every variety of 
 doctrine preached in St. Mary's pulpit every Sunday and Saint's 
 day throughout the year, and, thank God ! I am a Christian 
 still." 
 
 Till the year 1540, the Ehenish Palatinate was Catholic, hut, 
 under the Elector Otto Heinrich, it was forced to become Lutheran. 
 Otto Heiniich died without issue, and the Electorate passed to the 
 Simtnern-Zweibrucken house. Frederick (III.) was as hot a 
 Calvinist as his predecessor had been a Lutheran, and in 1565 the 
 churches of the Pfalz were swept of their altars and crucifixes and 
 images. The Lutheran pastors were ejected and exiled, and fiery- 
 hot Predestinarianism was poured into the ears of the bewildered 
 peasantry, who had not jet digested Justification. A remorseless 
 persecution of those who held by the Augsburg Confession was 
 carried out. But in 1579, Frederick was no more, and the Pfalz 
 was again Lutheranised : the Calvinist preachers were banished, 
 and the Evangelical returned. 
 
 In 1585 the Palatinate was again purged of Lutheranism, and 
 reformed after the pattern of Geneva. In the Thirty Years' war 
 
336 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 it fell into the hands of the Imperialists and was Catholicised 
 again. Then, again, it reverted to the Elector and was re-Cal- 
 vinised. Beckoning the changes of religion effected by the varying 
 fortunes of the war, the Palatinate passed through ten changes in 
 less than a century. Verily, the bauers must have thanked God 
 that they remained Christian still. Much the same sort of thing 
 occurred in other parts of the Empire. When the prince changed 
 his faith, he made his people change also. Idstein was converted 
 summarily to Lutheranism by Count John of Nassau. After 
 the defeat of the Swedes at Nordlingen, it was given to the 
 Elector of Mainz, and became Catholic. After the Peace of 
 Westphalia it reverted to the Count, and was reconverted to 
 Protestantism. 
 
 Wolfgang of Anhalt bought Kothen in 1546 ; he at once turned 
 the priests out of the churches, purified them, and made the 
 population Lutheran. Next year, after the battle of Miihlberg, 
 Kothen fell to Count Sigismund of Lodron, and went back to 
 Catholicism. In 1552, at the Convention of Passau, it was re- 
 stored to Wolfgang, who at once converted his people back to 
 Lutheranism. He died childless fourteen years after, in 1566, and 
 his successor, Johann Ernst, forcibly made Kothen Calvinist in 
 1570. 1 In 1556 Count Bernhardt von der Li[>pe conquered the 
 county of Bittberg, expelled the Count from his land, and brought 
 all the people to Calvinism. The granddaughter of the banished 
 Count recovered the lands, to which she was heiress, in 1601, and 
 restored them to the Catholic Church. These examples might be 
 multiplied. 
 
 Perhaps the latest instance 2 occurs in the house of Schonburg. 
 This broke into two branches at the beginning of this century — 
 that of Hinterglauchau and that of Wechselburg, and by arrange- 
 ment Glauchau fell alternately to one house and then to the other. 
 The Count at the head of one branch was a pietist, the other Count 
 a rationalist. Consequently the pastors appointed by one were 
 warm believers in the Incarnation and in free justification, and the 
 
 1 The exercise of the Lutheran and Catholic religions was strictly forbidden. 
 It was not till 1698 that Prince Emanuel Lebrecht allowed a Lutheran church 
 to be built in Kothen. 
 
 2 Except the forcible union of the Lutherans and Calvinists in Prussia to be 
 noticed presently. 
 
Protestantism. 337 
 
 next batch laughed both doctrines to scorn and preached natural 
 religion. 
 
 Protestants and Catholics alike after the Reformation had no 
 idea of toleration. The Lutheran Elector Augustus of Saxony 
 haled all the pastors who had preached Calvinism, and others 
 suspected of Crypto-Calvinism, before him (1574), and made them 
 abjure their errors and swear never again to ventilate them. They 
 all did so except six, and these were imprisoned and put on the 
 rack. Privy Councillor Krakau was so cruelly tortured at inter- 
 vals calculated to recover him from one torment to endure another, 
 that he killed himself in prison to escape his implacable perse- 
 cutors. Peucer, the Elector's private physician, the son-in-law of 
 Melanchthon, was kept imprisoned for twelve years in a filthy 
 hole, without books and writing materials. Church-CouncilL r 
 StiJssel died in consequence of his tortures. Only one other of the 
 six escaped alive. After execution, the Elector had a coin struck 
 to commemorate his victory over Crypto-Calvinism, on which he 
 is represented in armour holding a balance. In one scale sits the 
 infant Saviour, in the other the Devil and four Calvinists. 1 
 
 Professor Flacius carried Luther's doctrine of original sin to 
 such exaggeration that he declared that man consisted of sin, sin 
 only, and nothing but sin; that every thought, word, and act of 
 his was damnable. The Elector Augustus did not go these lengths. 
 He banished the land all those who held with Flacius, and then 
 had cannons cast to commemorate this triumph of orthodoxy 
 (1571). On them were grotesque figures of Dr. Flacius in his 
 pastoral habit, with the Devil behind him casting a chain round 
 his body. On the shoulders of the doctor was represented another 
 Devil with a pair of bellows, puffing into the ear of Flacius. 
 Before the Professor stood Fame, blowing a trumpet, and holding 
 a mitre. Under the caricature were cast the inscriptions : " Fla- 
 cians and Zealots are the forerunners of Satan," and " Pride is the 
 deluding spirit of the Flacians." 
 
 When people find that their consciences are managed for them 
 either by priests or princes, they are liable to fall into religious 
 apathy. Religion is not calculated to live where there is no 
 
 1 The Elector was so strong in his Lutheranism that he was wont to say, 
 " If I had a Calvinist vein in my body, I would bid the Devil tear it out by the 
 root." — Veb.se, Geschichte dcr Deut. Hqfe, xxix. 211. 
 

 o.'lS Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 freedom. Consequently, as the belief and worship of the German 
 people were ruled for them, they became listless in their religion. 
 Af er a brief outburst of excitement their consciences settled into 
 complacent indifference. 
 
 The Thirty Years' war gave the whole nation a sickener of 
 ecclesiastical controversy. Germans followed the religion pre- 
 scribed for them by their princes in a dull routine manner, without 
 caring to inquire whether it were true or false. 
 
 When the Bible ceased to be a sedes controversice it ceased to be 
 read ; when sermons were no longer seasoned with polemical 
 pepper and vinegar, they were no longer listened to. As long as 
 the preacher taught what was to be pulled down and undone, he 
 attracted attention : when he began to build up and mend, his 
 people turned their backs on him. When the chorale was a 
 novelty, congregations met in the churches to sing, but when the 
 Volkslied succeeded with livelier strain, they went to the garden 
 Wiithschaft instead. Pastors tired of haranguing empty benches, 
 and gave up holding services. In the Grand Duchy of Mecklen- 
 burg an inquiry was made, in 1854, into the condition of the 
 Lutheran Church, and it was found that there had been no divine 
 service held in the head churches (Prapositiur-Kirchen) 228 times, 
 because there had been no congregation. 1 
 
 Mr. Dewar, English chaplain at Hamburg, said, 2 over thirty 
 years ago, and matters are not mended since : " Religious in- 
 difference has pervaded the mass of the people. It is a fact which 
 every traveller who has visited the shores of Germany has re- 
 marked, that there is no regard for the ordinances of religion. In 
 Hamburg and its suburbs there are five palish churches and two 
 smaller churches. The congregations attending all the services 
 at all these never, I am told, amount to three thousand in number, 
 so that the remainder of the enormous population, amounting to 
 150,000, pay no manner of worship to their God. So rapidly has 
 the population increased that, whereas in the year 1826 the number 
 of births was 4,000, in 1842 it amounted to 5,000 ; and yet in 
 the latter year the number of communicants was 10,000 less than 
 in the former. One parish with more than 40,000 inhabitants has 
 
 1 Velise, Gesch. d. Deutsch. Hofe, xxxvii. p. 200. 
 
 2 Dewar (Rev. E. H.), German Protestantism. Oxford, 1844. 
 
Protestantism. 330 
 
 but a single church ; and there has never been a complaint made, 
 tliat there is a want of church accommodation. There has never 
 been a wish expressed, that more room should be provided for 
 those who might thereby be induced to assemble for public wor- 
 ship. And Hamburg in these matters does not furnish a low 
 standard when compared with the rest of Germany. In Berlin, 
 for instance, there is a parish which contains 54,000 inhabitants, 
 and the annual number of communicants is 1,000 less than in the 
 largest parish in Hamburg, while the population is one third 
 greater." 
 
 In statistics of church attendance and of communicants in 
 Germany it will, curiously enough, be found that the number 
 of the latter exceeds that of the former. The reason is, that a 
 great number of persons proclaim their formal adhesion to the 
 Established Church by communicating on the four occasions in 
 the year when the Lord's Supper is administered, or at all events 
 at one or two of them, and never set their foot within the church- 
 door at any other time. This is the remains of the custom of 
 quali tying for Government offices, etc., by exhibiting proofs of 
 belonging to the State Church. 1 Dr. Schwabe gives more recent 
 information of the state of religious affairs in Berlin. " The 
 ancient ties of the Protestant Church are broken," he says. 2 
 "Spirit and strength are lacking to replace them by new ones. 
 At no period has the Church commanded less and given less satis- 
 faction to man. Statistics show how far this alienation has 
 proceeded. Of 630,000 Protestants, 11,900, viz. nearly two per 
 cent., attend church on the Sundays, and amongst them 2,225 go 
 to the Dom, merely for a musical treat. 3 Religious indifference 
 appears no less conspicuously in the fact that out of 23,969 
 interments, 3,777, or nearly 15 per cent., only, are attended by 
 religious service." The churches provide accommodation for only 
 25,000 out of the 800,000 souls in Berlin, yet they are all but 
 empty on Sundays. 4 
 
 1 In Baden, among the Protestants m 1877, the per-centage of attendance at 
 church was 26-6 ; of communicants was 55 - l. 
 
 2 Schwabe (H.), Betrachtungen uber die Volksseele. Berlin, 1870. 
 
 3 In the Dom at 10 a.m. the "Berlin Choir" performs every Sunday Men- 
 delssohn's Psalms, unaccompanied by instrumental music. 
 
 * Religious Thought in Germany, reprinted from the Times, 1870, p. 27. 
 
:U0 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 I was in Strasshurg <m two Sundays last year, and I went the 
 round of the churches. In Strassburg there are 54,000 Catholics, 
 and 26,000 Protectants. I went into St. Thomas, the Temple Neuf, 
 St. Nicolas, St. John, " Young " St. Peter's, and found that there j 
 was but a wretchedly thin congregation everywhere. At St. i 
 Thomas' were the soldiers and some well-dressed ladies; at the 
 Temple Neuf the best congregation ; at the others a mere handful 
 — as many as might be expected in an English town church on a 
 week-day evening service, when there is no sermon. On the other 
 hand, the Cathedral, Old St. Peter's, and St. Louis, given up to ■ 
 the Catholics, were crammed. I found the same thing at Hadamar 
 on the Lahn, where the nave of the Old Church is given to the , 
 Reformed, and the choir to the Catholics. 
 
 The late Mr. Samuel Laing, who as a Scottish Presbyterian 
 may be trusted as viewing matters of this sort from an impartial 
 standpoint, said in 1845: "If the question is reduced to what 
 really are its terms in Germany at present — Catholicism, with all 
 its superstitions, errors, and idolatry — or no religion at all, that is 
 to say, not avowed infidelity, but the most torpid apathy, indifference . 
 and neglect of all religion — it may be doubted if the latter con- 
 dition of a people is preferable. The Lutheran and Calvinistic 
 Churches in Germany and Switzerland are in reality extinct. The 
 sense of religion, its influence on the habits, observances, and 
 life of the people, is alive only in the Roman Catholic popu- 
 lation." 1 
 
 His desciiption of a Genevan church on a Sunday may apply 
 to those of Luther as well. " I happened to be at Geneva one 
 Sunday morning, as the bells were tolling for church. The very 
 sounds which once called the powerful mind of a Calvin, a Knox, 
 a Zwingli to religious exercises and meditations, were now | 
 summoning the descendants of their contemporaries to the same 
 house of prayer. There are few Scotchmen whose hearts would 
 not respond to such a call. I hastened to the ancient cathedral, 
 the Church of St. Peter, to see the pulpit from which Calvin had 
 preached, to sit possibly in the very seat from which Knox had ( 
 listened, to hear the pure doctrines of Christianity from the 
 preacher who now stands where the great champions of ihe 
 Ketormation stood. Geneva, the seat and centre of Calvinism, 
 1 Laing (S.), Note* on the German Catholic Church. London, 1845, p. 145. 
 
Protestantism. 341 
 
 the fountain-head from which the pure and living waters of our 
 Scottish Zion flow, the earthly source, the pattern, the Rome of 
 our Presbyterian doctrine and practice, has fallen lower from her 
 original doctrine and practice, than ever Rome fell. Rome has 
 still superstition ; Geneva has not even the semblance of religion. 
 In the head church of the original seat of Calvinism, in a city of 
 25,000 souls, at the only service on the Sabbath day — there being 
 no evening service — I sat down in a congregation of about 200 
 females and twenty-three males, mostly elderly men of a former 
 generation, with scarcely a youth, or a boy, or working man 
 among them. A meagre liturgy or printed form of prayer, a 
 sermon, which, as far as religion was con erned, might have 
 figured the evening before at a meeting of some geological society, 
 as an ingenious essay on the Mosaic chronology, a couple of psalm 
 tunes on the organ, and a waltz to go out with, were the church 
 service. In the villages along the Protestant side of the lake of 
 Geneva — spots especially intended, the traveller would say, to 
 elevate the mind of man to his Creator by the glories of the 
 surrounding scenery, the rattling of the billiard-balls, the rumbling 
 of the skittle-trough, the shout, the laugh, the distant shots of the 
 rifle-clubs, are heard above the psalm, the sermon, and the barren 
 forms of State-prescribed prayer during the one brief service on 
 Sundays, delivered to very scanty congregations — in fact to a few- 
 females and a dozen or so old men in very populous parishes, 
 supplied with able and zealous ministers." x 
 
 In 1876, among Protestants, church attendance on ordinary 
 Sundays in Darmstadt was 8*3 per cent., in Giessen 15 - 7, in Mainz 
 10 per cent. Throughout Germany 14 out of one hundred persons 
 attend church on Sunday ; in the town of Darmstadt only 3 - 3 in a 
 hundred, in the towns of Mainz (among the Protestants) 5*1, Gies- 
 sen 5*7, Worms 6-3. In Darmstadt, out of a hundred marriages, 
 34-5 per cent., in Offenbach 48-6, in Worms 44, are celebrated 
 before the registrar alone, without religious service : burial 
 without religious service throughout Germany in 29*6 out of 
 one hundred interments, in Darmstadt 60 per cent. 2 A curious 
 
 1 Laing (S.), Notes of a Traveller, p. 324. 
 
 * In 1877, among Baden Protestants neglect of baptism and of religious 
 marriage was in this proportion : Mannheim, 29 - 9 ; Heidelberg, 248 ; Pforz- 
 heim, 28-5. 
 

 Germany, Present and Pant. 
 
 paper, by Dr. A Franz, in the " Jahrbiicher d. National-Ovkonnmic," 
 in 1865, shows how little energy the Protestants have shown in 
 church-building. 1 
 
 m 
 
 Prussia . 
 
 Chukches and Chapels. 
 
 Clergy Ordained. 
 
 1858. 
 
 Increase, 
 1864. 
 
 1858. 
 
 Increase, 
 1864. 
 
 Prot. 
 
 Cath. 
 
 Prot. 
 
 Cath. 
 
 Prot. Cath. 
 
 Prot. Cath. 
 
 656 
 
 509 
 
 8 
 
 12 
 
 705 
 
 531 
 
 8 1 23 
 
 Posen 
 
 191 
 
 628 
 
 8 
 
 11 
 
 198 
 
 626 
 
 12 
 
 112 
 
 Brandenburg . 
 
 2,231 
 
 41 
 
 — 
 
 7 
 
 1,306 
 
 46 
 
 31 
 
 5 
 
 j Pomraern 
 
 1,229 
 
 15 
 
 13 
 
 1 
 
 759 
 
 13 
 
 19 
 
 5 
 
 ; Schlesien 
 
 763 
 
 1,273 
 
 11 
 
 9 
 
 853 
 
 1,179 
 
 15 
 
 57 
 
 1 Sachsen . 
 
 2,413 
 
 150 
 
 1 
 
 7 
 
 1,670 
 
 143 
 
 — 
 
 21 
 
 I Wesiphalia 
 
 316 
 
 525 
 
 13 
 
 19 
 
 391 
 
 1,159 
 
 19 
 
 45 
 
 ' Rhcinland 
 
 524 
 
 2,084 
 
 20 
 
 140 
 
 538 
 
 2,46:) 
 
 20 
 
 17^ 
 
 Hohenzollern . 
 
 1 
 
 92 
 
 2 
 
 27 
 233 
 
 2 
 
 98 
 
 1 
 
 — 
 
 8,324 
 
 5,317 
 
 76 
 
 6,422 
 
 6,264 
 
 125 
 
 442 
 
 Thus, while the Protestants gained seventy-six churches, the 
 Catholics had increased theirs by 233. In 1858 the Catholics had 
 1,245 souls to a church, and the Protestants 1,304, and yet the 
 former showed an increase altogether extraordinary. The 5,046,056 
 Protestants of the States of Prussia, Brandenburg, Poinerania, and 
 Saxony, who had one church to 860 souls, had in 1864 gained 
 only fourteen churches. Ou the other hand, the 171,045 Catholics, 
 who, in 1858 had one church to 830 souls, had in 1864 increased 
 their number by thirteen. In 1858 the Catholics had 202 clergy, 
 in 1864 they had 233. The Protestants, who had 3,735 pastors, or 
 one to 1,352 souls, had increased by only fifty. In the whole 
 State the number of Protestant pastors rose to 6,422, or one to 
 1,700 souls ; but the number of Catholic priests rose to 6,264, or 
 one to 1,057. The Protestants had an addition of 109, the Catho- 
 lics of 442. 
 
 If there were religious interest among the Evangelicals, there 
 would be a considerable number of Dissenters from the established 
 Church, but this is not the case. 
 
 1 Statistics since the year 1870 have been disturbed by the May laws. 
 
Protestantism. 
 By the religious census of 1871, there are in — 
 
 .3 
 
 
 
 
 
 Dissenters 
 
 
 Catholics. 
 
 Frotestants. 
 
 Dissenters. 
 
 in i very 
 
 Prussia .... 
 
 
 
 
 1U,0U(J. 
 
 8,267,862 
 
 15,987,027 
 
 53,882 
 
 22 
 
 Bavaria .... 
 
 3,4H4,364 
 
 1,342,502 
 
 5,453 
 
 11 
 
 Saxony (Kingdom) 
 
 53,642 
 
 2,403,556 
 
 4,893 
 
 19 
 
 Wurtemberg 
 
 553,542 
 
 1,248,860 
 
 3,857 
 
 21 
 
 Baden ..... 
 
 942,560 
 
 491,008 
 
 2,265 
 
 16 
 
 Hesse ..... 
 
 23>.0s0 
 
 585,399 
 
 3,873 
 
 45 
 
 Mecklenburg and Oldenburg 
 
 71,205 
 
 242,945 
 
 952 
 
 18 
 
 Saxon Provinces aud Elsass- 
 
 
 
 
 
 Loth 
 
 14,867,463 
 
 25,579,709 
 
 82,15-5 
 
 20 
 
 The " Statistik des Deutschen Eeichs," vol. ii., gives 0-20 as 
 the proportion of Dissenters in the Empire, whereas 094 returned 
 themselves as of no particular religion. 
 
 To my mind, nothing could proelaim more clearly the dendness 
 of religious interest in a great people than this absence of Dissent. 
 The State religion does not satisfy the souls of the people, but 
 then their souls have lost all appetite for spiritual truths, so that 
 they do not care to seek them outside the Church. I know a case 
 of a German Methodist who came into a village of some 2,500 
 inhabitants, all Evangelicals. He hired a large room, lighted and 
 heated it at his own expense, and preached there every Sunday 
 evening for a winter. At first the bauers went out of curiosity. 
 Then the enthusiasm of the man made them smirk, finally they 
 yawned, and went away. At the end of six months the un- 
 fortunate preacher had to leave without having made a convert 
 or received above a mark or two to meet the expenses of his meet- 
 ing. As I have looked at the vacant, listless faces in the parish 
 church, I have grieved that the enthusiast was xinable to stir up 
 in their dull souls some spark of spiritual life. In 1861, when 
 I was in Iceland, I conversed with the Roman missionary who 
 had been stationed at the capital ten years. In all that period he 
 had made but a single convert ; the reason he gave me surprised 
 me then. " Tin se Lutherans," he said, " believe with the head, 
 but not with the heart. They are so absolutely indifferent to all 
 v eligious matters that it is impossible to awake in them even the 
 syhit of inquiry." The same condition exists in Germany as in 
 
.*U4< Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 Iceland. One revival they have had — Pietism — of which I shall 
 speak presently, but it has fallen dead again. 
 
 Nothing can give more clear proof of the all-prevailing in- 
 difference than the ease with which the Prussian and other unions 
 have been effected. When Prussia embraced lands in which 
 Calvinism was professed, and the Electors introduced Calvinist 
 communities into Lutheran provinces, it was considered incon- 
 venient to have the budget encumbered with payments for the 
 pastors of two Protestant sects. It was decided, therefore, to unite 
 them. All at once, two Churches, which during three centuries 
 bad existed side by side in open rivalry, had zealously defended 
 the truth of their respective confessions of faith, had suffered 
 persecution and wrong in support of them, submitted without a 
 murmur, not to the decision of a council of their assembled clergy, 
 but to a royal ordinance. 
 
 The history of the union is sufficiently curious. 
 
 At the Reformation the Calvinists and Lutherans raged against 
 each other with internecine fury. The Formulary of Concurd, 
 introduced in 1580, proved a veritable concordia discors. It sealed 
 and perpetuated division. Fifty years later the Electors of Bran- 
 denburg, Saxony, and Hesse summoned a conference at Leipzig 
 (1631), in which Lutheran theologians were to meet Calvinist 
 divines, and, if possible, come to some agreement on fundamentals. 
 But the points of difference were found more interesting and 
 exciting than those of agreement. On those points they were ready 
 to denounce each other to everlasting flames as heretics. The 
 Reformed (Calvinists) and Evangelicals (Lutherans) could not 
 come to terms on — 1. The doctrine of the union of natures in 
 Christ. 2. The nature of the Communion. 3. And the doctrine 
 of election. In ritual also the two confessions differed. The 
 Calvinists had no altars ; and everything that had distinguished a 
 church from a lecture-hall had been swept away. They attended 
 divine worship wearing their hats, did not kneel to pray, and 
 stood to communicate. The Lutherans, on the other hand, used 
 wafers, elevated the Host, wore chasubles, exorcised the Devil in 
 Baptism, burned tapers, had crucifixes and images of saints, and 
 imbibed the Sacramental wine through pipes. In Bavaria, where 
 Lutheranism has not been compulsorily united with Calvinism by 
 the State, the o'rl condition of things remains in part. In a little 
 
Protestantism. 843 
 
 village church (Muggendorf), which was Lutheran, I have seen 
 an altar reredos set up last century, consisting of three niches, 
 containing in the centre a statue of St. Lawrence, on either side 
 St. Peter and St. Paul. On the altar were six candles ; the in- 
 scriptions on the brass showed that they had been presented a 
 hundred years ago. At the west end of the church was a huge 
 representation of God the Father and a great dove, below, a life- 
 size crucifix. I counted eight crucifixes in tho church : of these 
 several were processional. 
 
 One invariable token distinguishes everywhere the Protestant 
 parish church from the Catholic, however like in accessories of 
 worship they may be. The church path to the very door is rank 
 with grass in the first case, trodden bare in the other. 
 
 At the close of the sixteenth century Lutheranism in Branden- 
 burg was the dominant religion, because the Elector was Lutheran. 
 But in 1(313 the Elector, John Sigismund, went over to Calvinism, 
 and the cathedral at Berlin was purified, and the Communion 
 was there administered according to the Reformed rite. From 
 this time until the close of the seventeenth century there were 
 two religious bodies in Brandenburg, the Reformed who followed 
 the court, and the Lutherans who adhered to their traditional 
 belief and ritual. The Electors and Kings of Prussia remained 
 true to Calvinism, and used all their influence short of persecution 
 to beat Lutheranism down. Pastors who preached against what 
 they regarded as Calvinist heresy were deposed. Paul Gerhard, 
 the great psalmist of the Lutheran Church, was banished the 
 country for this reason. By degrees both communities became 
 weary of controversy, because they had ceased to care for the 
 doctrines and ceremonies which had separated them. In 1733 
 Frederick William I. by rescript ordered the Lutherans to discon- 
 tinue the use of surplices, Mass vestments, altar cloths, eucharistic 
 lights, the use of the wafer, chanting the service, private con- 
 fission, &C. 1 The Lutheran ministers who refused to obey were 
 suspended. Frederick the Great rescinded the order. The object 
 of Frederick William was to diminish the points of difference in 
 
 1 In Iceland, Lutheranism remains unaltered. There the only service is 
 the " Mass," sung by the pastor in rich vestments, with burning tapers, to the 
 old Gregorian melodies. The Mass, however, ends at the sermon, without con- 
 secration and communion. 
 
346 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 worship "between the Evangelicals and Reformed, so as to make a 
 future union possible. 
 
 In 1817, Frederick William II. thought the time ripe for a 
 fusion of the two Churches. But before this certain preparatory 
 steps had been taken. In pursuance of a royal minute of Decem- 
 ber 16, 1808, all the consistories of the Protestant churches 
 throughout the kingdom were abolished, and a new " department 
 for public instruction and worship " was created in the Ministry 
 of the Interior. By this order all self-government was destroyed 
 in the churches, and both Calvinist and Lutheran churches were 
 established under the direction of the State. For ten years the 
 King, as chief bishop, ruled absolutely over both. In 1815 con- 
 sistories were indeed re-established, but only as Royal Boards for 
 the administration of ecclesiastical business for all confessions, 
 Catholic, Lutheran, Calvinist, and Jewish alike. 
 
 In the matter of doctrine there was little to divide the two 
 Protestant bodies. Luther had laid down consub.stantiation as an 
 essential truth. Lutherans had come to be profoundly indifferent 
 as to what was the nature of the bread and wine after the bene- 
 diction of the pastor. Consubstantiation, transub-tantiation, real 
 presence, real absence, were all one to them — a dispute about 
 words. The Sacrament itself was indifferent to them, much more 
 doctrine concerning it. As for election and free justification — 
 words on which Calvin and Luther had fonght — nobody believed 
 in either. Election was an absurdity, free justification the fertile 
 mother of immorality. Let both be consigned with indulgences 
 and relic worship to oblivion as things unsavoury to Christian 
 ethics. 
 
 The King determined to establish inter-communion, if not 
 compulsory unity, and in September, 1817, he ordered his court 
 chaplain, Eylert, to issue a proclamation to the people that the 
 King was resnlved to unite the two confessions in one outward 
 Evangelical Church, without dogmatic creeds and standards. 
 Eylert was given two days for this ; and then the royal order 
 appeared, founding the union. The work begun in 1817 was com- 
 pleted by a Cabinet order in 1839, when the King of Prussia 
 abolished the very name of the Protestant Church, amalgamated 
 Lutheranism and Calvinism into a new establishment, called the 
 Evangelical Church, without any precise doctrine, and with a 
 
Protestantism. 347 
 
 service and liturgy of his own composition. The old Churches 
 relinquished without regret each their accustomed mode of wor- 
 ship, endeared to them, one might have supposed, by time, and 
 hallowed by solemn recollections. More especially, they resigned 
 that which had been to each the peculiar and most cherished rite, 
 the mode of administering the Lord's supper, and adopted a liturgy, 
 prepared, not by the wisest and most honoured among their 
 spiritual rulers, but by the King and his Cabinet Council. They 
 resigne 1 it, not because one or both were convinced of error, but 
 because- both were indifferent, and were easily induced to agree in 
 accepting a nullity. Two or three country parishes, into which 
 the spirit of indifference had not penetrated, alone resisted the 
 royal will. Their ministers were imprisoned, troops were quar- 
 tered upon them to force them into conformity, and above 600 
 peasants were compelled to abandon their little properties and fly 
 from Protestant Germany, where each may exercise to the utmost 
 the right of private judgment but not of public worship, and to 
 seek in the wilds of America a new dwelling-plac^, where they 
 might enjoy the privilege of holding the doctrines which Luther 
 taught, and of participating in the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, 
 as their fathers during three centuries h id received it. 
 
 The Protestant churches of Baden, Nassau, Ehein-Hessen, and 
 the Bavarian Palatinate have also been united, or reorganised, on 
 the pattern of the Prussian Evangelical Church, and the only point 
 of difference of any importance between jthem is that they look 
 to their several reigning Dukes and Princes as their " summi 
 episeopi," instead of to the Emperor. 1 But this is merely because 
 Germany is in a transition political condition : the several sove- 
 reigns will sink ere long into bishops, and the Emperor will be 
 supreme pope over the whole Evangelical Church. In Schleswig 
 and in Holstein and in Hanover exist only Lutherans. For the 
 sike of uniformity, they have recently had their Church sup- 
 pressed, and its place assumed by the Evangelical Church framed 
 by King William of Prussia. 
 
 1 E.g. " The United Evangelical-Protestant Church of the Grand Duchy of 
 Baden . . . forms a portion of the Evangelical Church of Germany. . . . The 
 Evangelical Grand Duke as bishop has the ecclesiastical government of it, in 
 accordance with the Constitution" — (Verfassuny der Evaiiydischen Kirche des 
 Giosiherzogthums Baden, p. 1 § 1, 4.) 
 
oiS Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 By Prussian charter enacted in 1850, the Established Church 
 has been made independent of the State, but not of the King; 
 that is, it is given synods and a constitution : and the sovereign 
 sits as king over the secular state, and as pope over the ecclesias- 
 tical state, absolute and infallible. The spiritual attribute thus 
 claimed by the King is certainly in accordance with a principle 
 acknowledged by Luther himself in his latter days, 1 when the 
 necessity of providing a fit government for the unruly believers of 
 his age made him confer the privilege of Church headship on the 
 various Protestant sovereigns of Germany ; and it is in agreement 
 with German tradition during three centuries, which has made 
 the prince sovereign over the creeds and worship, as well as the 
 lives and properties of his subjects. " Cujus regio ejus religio " 
 was a serious maxim of government, and the people accepted their 
 prayer- and hymn-books as wt 11 as their doctrines from their prince 
 without a murmur; but for all that the principle is wrong: it 
 kills religious liberty, and with the destruetion of liberty religion 
 itself dies. In Brunswick the Duke is in like manner supreme 
 pope, with a consistory as his camarilla. In 1873 he issued an 
 ecclesiastical order for his Church, with full instructions as to 
 what it was to believe, teach, and how it was to worship. The 
 title of this ordinance is, " Church Constitution of the most Serene, 
 Excellent and Hi^h-born Prince and Lord, the Lord Frederick 
 Duke of Brunswick and Liineburg, Postulate-Coadjutor of the 
 Bishopric of Patzeburg, Provost-Elect of the Archdiocese of Bremen, 
 &o. — How teaching and ceremonies and other ecclesiastical matters 
 and functions are to be discharged in both his Gracious Princely 
 Majesty's principalities of Biunswick-Liineburg, the Celle and 
 Grubenhagen division, and the annexed counties and lordships." 
 (212 pp.) Hermannsburg, 1873. 
 
 We naturally ask, How is it that such religious indifference 
 can have spread as to make the union possible and the people to 
 acquiesce in a creedless Church ? The union was not effected in 
 the spirit of Paul, but in that of Gallio. 
 
 No doubt the principle of "cujus regio ejus religio" had its 
 numbing effect, but this was not the main cause of deadness. 
 
 1 " Pass 2 und 5 gleieh 7 Bind," he preached, " das kannst du fassen mit del 
 Vernunft ; wetm aber die Obrigkeit sagt: 2 und 5 siud 8, so rausst du's glauben 
 wider deiu Wisscn und dein Fiihleu." 
 
Protestantism. 349 
 
 What really occasioned this torpor was the dis overy by both 
 Lutherans and Calvinists, that their essential dogmas, — those which 
 had created the fiercest controversy, those which their several 
 leaders had regarded as " articuli stantis vel cadentis ecclesise " — 
 were impracticable. The founders of their faiths had established 
 theories : the generations that followed put them to practical tests, 
 and they found them wanting. 
 
 Calvinism is a magnificent logical system. It explains the 
 universe ; God and man, heaven and hell, all have their places in 
 it. The world is a problem in Euclid, in which every step follows 
 inevitably on what precedes, and leads on to the inexorable con- 
 clusion. It is a system altogether intellectual, clear, sharp, like 
 a prism of ice. And as such it satisfied the minds of thinkers. 
 But there its merits ended. It leaves the heart of man out of 
 consideration. Love had no more place in the " Institutes " than 
 in the Second Book of Euclid. The Scotchman is pur excellence 
 a man of logic, and the affections play in him altogether a sub- 
 ordinate part ; consequently, Calvinism has, and no doubt always 
 will command his adhesion, and will content his religions instincts. 
 But the German is a dreamer, not a logician, a man of tender 
 affections, rather than of rigid definitions. The " Ee formed " 
 bauer, rocking his white-haired urchins on his knee, and huersrino- 
 them to his heart, cannot believe in one being irrevocably called 
 to be a vessel of grace, and the other to be a vessel of wrath. He 
 has nothing of the Brutus in him. He cannot cover one with 
 kisses, and thrust the other into the flames of his oven. And is 
 the Heavenly Father less paternal than he ? He watches his 
 children work out their own foi tunes, and cannot believe that 
 their fate in eternity is fixed irrespective of their characters and 
 efforts here. Calvinism proved too inhuman for the German to 
 give to the doctrine of election adhesion for more than an hour. 
 When the first gale of controversy blew away, he looked into his 
 own heart, and saw there that God was something other than an 
 arbitrary and unloving despot. Thereupon his faith in Calvinism 
 as a system gave way altogether. 
 
 It was much the same with Lutheranism. Luther was not a 
 clear thinker like his great rival : he was a man of warm affections 
 and headstrong convictions. His system was the reverse of Cal- 
 vin's. He made God all love and forgiveness, and restoration to 
 
250 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 favour was tlio easiest thing in the world. A man had but to 
 believe, and he was at once in a state of grace, and his iniquities 
 were blotted out. Even in his time, the proclamation of free 
 justification by faith only led to grave disorders, and frightened 
 back into Catholicism many who wished the Reformation success. 
 
 The common sense of Germans showed them that the doctrine 
 which Luther had made the very ground-work of his church was 
 mischievous to morals, and they disinfected it as rapidly as pos- 
 sible by putting it underground. In the seventeenth century it 
 was almost forgotten, nobody believed it, nobody ventured to rule 
 his life on it as a working principle. 
 
 Lutherans and Calvinists alike were aware that they had been 
 led a lftng way out of right paths by theologic Will-'o-the-wisps, 
 and that they had floundered into quagmires. They were ready 
 to extend to one another a helping hand to get out, and when on 
 dry land their vow was nut to follow or be led by dogmas any 
 more. Dogmas were the Ian thorn on the ass's head led along the 
 highlands, luring vessels among rocks, to become the prey of 
 wreckers. They would stand out to sea. Creeds were breakers 
 over which controversy raged and roared, and on which true 
 religion foundered. Confessions, formularies of concord, were 
 crackers in which each article was an explosive pellet, scaring 
 decent people who loved quiet, and setting in flames those whom 
 they reached. 
 
 Thus all Protestant Germany agreed to form one united Evan- 
 gelical Church without any definite belief. The house was most 
 likely to stand, if no powder or petroleum was stored in its cellars. 
 The primitive Church had rubbed on comfortably on the Apostles' 
 Creed, how much more happily the Protestant Church on no creed 
 at all. As creeds multiplied, so had discord. The more defini- 
 tions were made, the more material was supplied for objectors. 
 Japanese artists ridicule European draughtsmen, and call them 
 object-scratchers, because they outline before they fill in. The 
 Japanese never outline, they float in masses of colour, and the 
 arti>t convei ts the blotch into a fish, a bird, a flower, or a moun- 
 tain, as his fancy leads him. In religion, said the German, we 
 have been hitherto object-scratchers, drawing outlines of dogma 
 hard and distinct, and afterwards filling them in, sometimes with 
 colour, often with Indian ink. This we have now to unlearn. 
 
Protestantism. 3-3] 
 
 We will remove our outlines, erase our scratches, leaving only 
 vitgue blots of ink, or patches of colour, for any one to transform 
 into such doctrine as agrees with his individual proclivities. 
 
 With the disappearance of all dogmatic barriers, it was believed 
 th;it the established Church would absorb all sects. It was with 
 a feeling of unmingled surprise that the Government saw that it 
 produced tliem. It hoped that all nonconformist bodies would 
 melt into the Evangelical Church, for they would find nothing to 
 object to in her teaching, for the simple reason that she taught 
 nothing at all. He who joined the established Church would, like 
 Ixion, embrace a cloud. It was not on the platform of definite 
 belief that the union of the Churches was effected, but in the 
 vacuity of common negation. Men may, unconsciously, and with- 
 out effort, tumble into a hole, but they cannot climb a hill without 
 exertion. It remains optional for any one to call doctrines from 
 vasty vagueness, but when he calls they will not come, save as 
 ghosts, the ghosts of a dead creed, on whose tomb is written no 
 Mesurgam. 
 
 No new doctrine was imported into the teaching of the Church ; 
 her dogmas were simply extracted from her, and laid aside, as 
 cooks draw woodcock, and serve its entrails apart on toast. The 
 old confessions and creeds, and articles, and catechisms, and formu- 
 laries and rites, were allowed to remain in an antiquarian museum, 
 to be looked on with interest, and lectured on, not to be resus- 
 citated. Catholic Christianity rested on an inerrable Church, as 
 the teat/her of truth ; Protestant Christianity reposed on an in- 
 fallible Scripture; but the Dubitarian Christianity of the estab- 
 lished Church declares that certainty on any religious topic is 
 nowhere to be found, that truth lies at the bottom of the well — 
 but the well is that of Zemzem, which has no bottom. The 
 externals of religion are maintained intact, and intact they will 
 remain as long as they are regarded as empty and meaningless. 
 Inflated only with air, they serve their purpose, as the bladders on 
 which natives float across the Euphrates. 
 
 The Reformation in Germany was first of all social, then 
 
 political, and lastly, and accidentally only, religious. Moral it was 
 
 iiot, it scarcely pretended to be. There is abundant evidence that 
 
 wherever it prevailed the moral tone sank several degrees. 1 It 
 
 1 See the three thick volumes of Dr. Dollinger : Die Reformation. 
 
352 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 was first of all social. In all the cities and large towns, the 
 cathedral or minster was the seat of a close aristocratic corpora- 
 tion. The bishop or dean had rights in the town, which were in 
 constant clash with the rights of the citizens. These rival powers, 
 the first feudal, the second democratic, led to bloody broils in 
 almost every century. The town council gradually fell into the 
 power of the guilds, and in the fifteenth century the Bath seized 
 the first excuse for getting rid of the rival authority. The princes 
 were needy, impoverished by equal subdivision of property, and 
 they cast hungry eyes on the large estates of the Church, and saw 
 a means of eniiching the.nselves, and recovering their power, by 
 appropriating them. Zeal for religion was a plausible excuse for 
 spoliation. 
 
 Olaus Magnus tells of a city in Norway that was buried by an 
 avalanche, set in motion by a curlew hopping over snow on an 
 impending mountain side. But it was not the curlew that de- 
 stroyed the town, but the breath of spring that passed over the 
 country and loosed the icy ties that held the glacier to the rocks. 
 Luther, Melanchthon, Osiander, Brenz, Bucer, were but the curlews 
 hopping over the mass and starting it. But they did not originate 
 the Bcformation. It was bruught about by the breath of mudein 
 ideas thawing Mediaivalism. An avalanche is a bad simile. The 
 break-up of old ideas at the Reformation far more closely 
 resembles the break up of the Ilhine ice in spring. The 
 coherent and solid surface of belief is fissured, and then falls to 
 pieces. In a moment nothing is seen but the swirl of floating 
 dogmas, charging against one another, grinding against each other, 
 losing their angles, and forming fresh ones, crashing into one 
 another, disappearing with a plunge and coming up in splinters, — 
 but all imperceptibly, yet certainly, honeycombingand melting away. 
 
 Three hundreds of years have gone by; and now if one looks 
 across the current of thought, one sees nothing like this — now and 
 then there reels by a sodden and slushy relic of ancient faith, 
 ready to disappear. But of such the stream is almost clear — clear 
 of crystalline belief — not clear of impalpable mud — of that there is 
 superfluity. There is now philosophy in Germany, not religion. 
 And the man who pretends to regard Christianity as anything mure 
 than a form of misbelief is regarded as a sinner against culture. 
 Christianity was the pedagogue leading to the Real-fcJchule. 
 
Protestantism. 353 
 
 On Sunday, August 8, 1869, whilst the Pastor Heinrici was 
 reciting the creed in the Berlin Cathedral Church, a loud voice 
 cried, "You lie!" and a shot followed, aimed at the pastor. The 
 shot was fired by a young man named Biland, who had Leen 
 educated for the Evangelical ministry, hut whose abhorrence of 
 dogmatic belief hud become so intense, that he had resolved, by 
 shooting an orthodox clergjmian, to attract attention from the 
 public mind to the inadmissibility of the Apostles' Creed in the 
 religious services of a Protestant church. " I taught myself," said 
 Biland, " that some striking deed was indispensable to rouse the 
 public mind from its apathy, and chase away the mists of super- 
 stition. I therefore determined to seize the first favourable 
 opportunity that offered for shooting a pastor, while uttering his 
 accursed pei juries. I have done it. I cast the ball myself, and 
 have done my best to render the shot fatal. I knew perfectly 
 what I was about, and am convinced that there are many able to 
 appreciate the disinterestedness of my purpose, though they may 
 not approve of the method chosen to compass it." 
 
 The* Times' correspondent thereupon says: "I am afraid the 
 prisoner was right in supposing that many will appreciate his 
 motive, though they will abhor the deed. The majority of 
 educated men in Germany are estranged from the dogmatic teach- 
 ing of th.3 Christian creed, estranged from it to the extent of dis- 
 believing the sincerity of many of the clergy. Only a small 
 fraction of the nation attends divine service ; of the educated, those 
 met with in church on a Sunday are few and far between." 
 
 The union, so far from galvanising religion into life, has shaken 
 up its pillows on which it may sleep more comfortably. Here and 
 there are pastors and congregations holding by the Apostles' Creed, 
 and preaching and believing the Augsburg Confession, but they 
 are scarce, rari nantes in gurgite vasto, and are objects of suspicion 
 and dislike to their more enlightened neighbours. They are 
 regarded as hypocrites or ignoramuses, enemies to culture and to 
 light, to be put down, if possible, by force. 
 
 But the orthodox have the Emperor on whom to lean, against 
 whom they may set their backs. In answer to a deputation of the 
 Brandenburg Sjoiod in 18G9, he used the memorable words: 
 " What is to become of us, if we have no faith in the Saviour, the 
 Son of God? If He is not the Son of God, His commands, as 
 
 2 A 
 
354 Germany, Present and Past 
 
 coming from a man only, must be subject to criticism. What is to 
 become of us in such a case ? " 
 
 It has, no doubt, been a source of great disappointment to the 
 pious Emperor, that the Evangelical Church shows no signs of a 
 religious revival. The union did not prick it into life, perhaps 
 constitutionalism might succeed. Accordingly a new attempt was 
 made to awaken the interest of the people in the Church, by giving 
 them a voice in her organization and direction. 
 
 By decree of September 10, 1873, Prussian Protestantism has 
 been accorded a constitution, with parish synods and diocesan 
 synods, and provincial synods, and general synods — the latter by 
 royal decree of January 20, 1876. Since 1873, there have been 
 numerous laws made by the King for the better organization of 
 representative government in the national Protestant Church. 
 Nothing can be more admirable than the constitution — on paper. 1 
 It was given in hope that it would interest the people in their 
 Church and religion, It was an attempt to give the Lutheran- 
 Calvinist amalgam a congregational character. But the attempt, 
 failed. The people were too indifferent to the Church and religion 
 to avail themselves of the privileges given them. The only per- 
 sons who used it were the Socialists, who rushed to the poll to put 
 a democrat in the pulpit of the parish church, whence he might 
 preach the gospel of socialism, or, where they have not the 
 nomination of their pastor, to hamper him and thwart the pur- 
 poses of the Sovereign in the government of the Church. 
 
 The united Evangelical Church of Germany has, as I have 
 already pointed out, this peculiar and exceptional feature. It is 
 creedless. No member in it is bound to any particular belief in 
 God or Christ. No member knows what to believe, and nobody 
 cares. A pastor in it can therefore teach pretty much what he likes. 
 
 The act of union set up no confession of faith as the symbol of 
 the newly organized Church; on the contrary, the royal proclama- 
 tion asserted that " God's word alone " should be the foundation 
 of the new Church, and the King expressly rejected any attempt at 
 union " from the point of view of the Lutheran or the Eeformed 
 Confession." It is quite open to one congregation to adopt the 
 Heidelberg Confession as its standard, and to its neighbour to. 
 
 1 Die Gesetze u. Instruhtioneii iiber die Evangelische Kirchenverfassung in den 
 acht dlteren Proviiizen der Monarchic. Berlin, 1876. 
 
Protestantism. 355 
 
 adopt the two catechisms of Luther, for the general synod of 1846 
 decided that the right of "vocation" which pertained to any 
 patron or congregation included the riglit to demand fi.om the 
 "called" pastor a statement of his belief. In the " general synodal 
 regulation" of 1876, the words "the Evangelical confession" (of 
 faith) occur, and in the discussion of this constitution in the synod 
 of 1875, an attempt was made to put this sentence in the plural, 
 as " Evangelical confessions," but it was registered, and the remark 
 was made by a deputy, " You speak of an Evangelical confession, 
 but after all you know well that there is no such thing in exist- 
 ence as the Evangelical confession." The union, moreover, was 
 introduced, as I have shown, entirely and solely by royal authority ; 
 the King founded it by royal mandate. The Chui'ches were in no 
 way consulted, otherwise than by making the acceptance of the 
 union optional — an option, the value of which may be estimated 
 by the conduct of the Government towards those who would not 
 conform. The present Evangelical Church is therefore a State 
 creation, " by order of the King." It may be, it is well to have 
 religious controversies composed, but this experiment did not com- 
 pose them. Where the all-prevailing indifference exists, there there 
 was no strife about doctrine to appease, but where it burns, there 
 it is given redoubled vehemence, for rival doctrines are preached in 
 the same church and pulpit, and the pastor at one service denounces 
 the pastor at the next, and one church breaks into two or three 
 congregations holding different views. 
 
 But the doctrines of election and free justification are indeed no 
 lunger the matters of controversy, nobody believes in either : the 
 wrangling takes place over what, according to the royal minute, is 
 the very basis of the new Church " the word of God," which some 
 insist on as a rock, and others as sand. One pastor declares all 
 Scripture inspired, another shows how it is a collection of the litera- 
 ture of a people, embodying its dramas, romances, poetry, and 
 historical works. One proposes belief in miracles, another explains 
 the cures wrought by Christ by mesmerism, and the miracles as 
 optical delusions. The Church reposes on no fundamental truths, 
 hut is built like the Pfahlbauten over a pond, from which every 
 man may fish up what he likes, and into which he may pitch down 
 what he disdains. It is a preparation for another Church, which 
 will have abandoned even the pretence of Christianity. 
 
356 Germany, Present and Past 
 
 In the midst of the general apathy one looks with interest for 
 the dawning of a now religious movement, that shall be construc- 
 tive rather than destructive. It seems to me that German Protes- 
 tantism must lead to, and find its permanent rest in either Deism 
 or Pantheism. Deism, like Calvinism, is an intellectual religion, 
 it provides the mind with a solution to the riddle of the universe. 
 It is a religion grand and solemn, with its clear ethic code, without 
 which religion is a theory of philosophers, not a law governing the 
 world. 
 
 Pantheism, like Catholicism, is a heart religion. It appeals to 
 the sense of the beautiful. What the sacraments are to Catholicism, 
 that every flower and bird and butterfly are to the Pantheist. The 
 Catholic sees God on every altar, and in every rite a ray of grace. 
 The Pantheist is face to face with God in all nature, in every 
 mountain and in every star. Deism commands man's adhesion 
 through the head, Pantheism through the heart. These two are 
 the ultimate goals of all disintegrating faiths, they must become 
 crystalline or gaseous. 
 
 The Evangelical Church reposes, as the King proclaimed, on 
 nothing save the Scriptures. And it is precisely these Scriptures 
 which have been everywhere undermined and blown up with 
 dynamite. 
 
 The Times' correspondent says, "In the present intellectual 
 atmosphere of the country, it is pretty certain that a boy of fifteen 
 disbelieves the texts he has been compelled to learn at ten. There 
 is a strong and growing impression that the Christian creed has 
 become too obsolete for any one to take the trouble of warring 
 against it. They regard some of the Kef'ormed clergy as enthusiasts, 
 others as hypocrites, and the rest as dunces ; all equally destined 
 to die out in a couple of generations." 1 At the Cologne Conference 
 of the Old Catholics, a letter from an aged Evangelical pastor was 
 read, in which he blessed God for the movement, and prophesied 
 that Old Catholicism would receive into it all Protestants who had 
 faith and love for Jesus Christ. His prophecy has not been ful- 
 filled. I doubt if a dozen Evangelicals have joined Old Catholi- 
 cism. The majority of those who believe in the Incarnation have 
 formed the sect of " Old Lutherans." 
 
 Let us now look at the most remarkable religious movement iD 
 1 Religious Thought in Germany, p. 28. 
 
Protestantism. 357 
 
 Protestant Germany since the Keforniation — a movement very 
 similar to that in England instituted by Wesley, but along some- 
 what different lines. This was Pietism. 
 
 Throughout Evangelical Germany sleep had settled over 
 Lutheranism and Calvinism alike. The people in the villages 
 vegetated in their traditional religion ; the students in the univer- 
 sities, the princes and the nobles disbelieved in all. 
 
 The man in the Gospel asked for bread and was given a stone. 
 Lutheranism and Calvinism alike were not even asked for spiritual 
 food ; and if they gave stony lumps of cold dogma to men as bread, 
 men tossed them aside with indifference ; they had no appetites. 
 Christian Thomasius (1655-172S), the first in the university of 
 Leipzig boldly to write the prospectus of his lectures on the black- 
 board in German instead of Latin — this Thomasius had the courage 
 to tell his contemporaries that they had exchanged " the wooden 
 yoke of the Papacy for the iron yoke of Lutheranism." Theology 
 was a gymnastic ground, religion a battle-field ; and only the 
 learned went through their theological gymnastics, and furious 
 controversialists mangled each other in religion. The Papacy of 
 the Apostolic chair had been supplanted by the Papacy of the letter 
 of the Bible. Nobody read the Scriptures for edification in Leipzig 
 at the end of the seventeenth century, as we have seen elsewhere ; 
 not a Bible was to be procured in any of its booksellers' shops. 
 
 The leaders of reaction, of revival, were Spener (1635-1705) 
 and Francke (1663-1727). They declared that religion was some- 
 thing of the heart and not of the head, to be cultivated by prayer, not 
 disputation, to be practised in charity, not exercised in controversy. 
 A warm breath of spiritual awakening passed over the field of dry 
 bones, and some of them came together and stood up, like Ezekiel's 
 army — but not as in his vision — in a great host, but here and there. 
 The religious revival was practical. Francke founded the Volks- 
 schule; he was the first man to arouse a consciousness in the 
 nation that it was bound to provide for the education of the masses. 
 Spener was a native of Strassburg, where he entered the pastorate 
 in 1663. He went to Frankfurt, where he held prayer-meetings 
 in his house, and afterwards in the church. This roused the anger 
 of the Pharisaic Lutherans, and he was obliged to justify himself 
 in a printed letter. But as opposition increased, he was forced to 
 leave, and was appointed first court-preacher in Saxony in 16tf6. 
 
358 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 He devoted himself to education, to sowing the seeds of religious 
 principle in the tender hearts of children ; he continued his meet- 
 ings for prayer and Bible exposition at Leipzig. Some disorders 
 were the result of his innovation : he was dismissed Lis cure, and 
 in 1691 summoned to Berlin by the Elector. 
 
 Spener, however, was not the originator of Pietism, but the 
 most noted reviver of it. Pietism is, in fact, a natural outcome of 
 Lutheranism, it is a mystic form of religion seeking union with 
 God in internal rapture, spiritual exaltation, and a realization of 
 justification. It is a form to which hysterical men and women are 
 naturally prone, but it is also a necessary revulsion from the dead- 
 letterism into which German Protestantism had lapsed. Boehm, 
 the mystic Silesian shoemaker, had been a representative of the 
 same phase of religionism, but his system had been Pantheistic. 
 Broschbandt and Miiller had preached Pietism at Rostock in 1661. 
 Johann Horbs of Traarbach followed in their traces, denounced 
 external forms, and made religion to consist of the spontaneous 
 effusion of the heart. Horbs was a preacher at St. Nicholas, Ham- 
 burg. Francke was a convert of Spener's. He was born at Liibeck, 
 and studied at Leipzig. In 1688 he came under Spener's influence, 
 and in 1689 began to give Pietistic lectures at Leipzig. He was 
 persecuted, and the orthodox Lutheran party attempted his expul- 
 sion, but Thomasius defended him. In 1690 he went to Erfurt, to 
 the Church of St. Augustine. His fervent piety and unction 
 attracted great numbers of Catholics : he was denounced for this to 
 the government as dangerous to the public peace, and ordered to 
 leave Erfurt within forty-eight hours. In 1692 he went to Halle, and 
 was made there professor of theology and pastor of Glaueha. Find- 
 ing his parishioners sunk in barbarism and ignorance, he opened a 
 large school for poor children, and founded also an orphanage, and 
 lastly a large boarding-school for children whose parents wished to 
 place them under his religious instruction. 
 
 In the midst of the senseless etiquette and wasteful extra- 
 vagance of the pre-Eevolution period, the Pietists preached sim- 
 plicity of life, and moderation in expenditure. Luxury and 
 licentiousness — the essentials of a gentleman in the rococo period — 
 were by them sternly rebuked. They had followers in the aristo- 
 cratic classes as well as among the biirgers. The family of Eeuss 
 was specia ly devoted to Pietism, and it is one of the few German 
 
Protestantism. 359 
 
 princely families whose history in the seventeenth, eighteenth, and 
 nineteenth centuries has not been a chronique scandaleuse. Henry 
 II. of Reuss (169(3-1722) was regarded as the most God-fearing, 
 upright, and Christian prince of a godless age. A eountess of 
 Reuss-Ebersdorf in 1722 became the wife of Zinzendorf. Moser 
 sa)'S of the line of Reuss, " Perhaps no countly house in Germany 
 has for a long series of years produced such good, wise, excellent 
 rulers ; perhaps no other house rests on such firm, well-considered, 
 and lasting bases of internal family-settlements ; few houses have 
 produced such a number of sons who have distinguished themselves 
 in war or political life in or outside Germany ; few German 
 territories of like extent have reared more brave and learned men, 
 among the subjects; there are few which have been such Canaans 
 of happiness and content." 
 
 But Pietism ran into extravagance. It forbade not only what 
 was evil, but also what was innocent. Laughter, dancing, card- 
 playing, the wearing of jewellery, poetry, theatres, even the read- 
 ing of " worldly " newspapers fell under condemnation. Everything 
 in life was sinful which was not disagreeable. It diverted itself 
 into two streams, the mystic and the puritan : the former guided 
 by the inner light of spiritual illumination, the latter nailing its 
 religion to verbal inspiration, precisely analogous, not in doctrine, 
 but in practice, to a harsh Calvinism, which could almost denounce 
 the Almighty as godless for having created the rose and the peacock. 
 
 Pietism of mystic tendency culminated in Count Nicolas 
 Ludwig von Zinzendorf (1700-1760) and Herrnhutenism. Whilst 
 young, in the school at Halle, he founded the order of the " Service 
 of the Lord," the duties of which consisted in "renouncing the 
 world, remaining members of Christ, and converting the heathen." 
 In the university of Wittenberg the ruling orthodoxy drove him 
 further into the arms of Pietism, so that he — as a youth of eighteen 
 — " invoked the Lord and Saviour to aid him in getting through 
 his dancing-master's and riding-master's lessons with success, so as 
 to be the sooner rid of these vanities." 
 
 In 1722 he offered an asylum on his estate at Bertelsdorf, in 
 Lusatia, to the Moravian Brothers, everywhere persecuted by the 
 orthodox. A carpenter named Christian David was at their head, 
 and the settlement assumed the name of Herrnhut, or the Lord's 
 Protection. But the carpenter had to make way for the Count, 
 
300 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 who assumed the headship of the society. Thence he sent apostles 
 into all parts of the world. The Count was not, however, satisfied 
 with his inner "awakening; " he desired also an external seal on 
 his mission, and went through a theological examination before the 
 ministry of the town of Stralsund. Then he had himself ordained 
 preacher by the theological faculty at Tubingen, and entered the 
 pulpit dressed in black velvet, with a long black mantle, over 
 which he wore the riband and star of his order. The apostleship 
 had not yet swallowed up aristocratic pride. After that, in 1737, 
 he got himself named bishop ; and, not satisfied with this title, in 
 1743 assumed that of minister-plenipotentiary and steward-general 
 of the society of Herrnhut. He then started on his travels in 
 England, America, etc. His spiritual songs, which now stand in 
 the hymn-book of the Hernnhuters, turn on the mystic union of 
 the soul-bride and the heavenly bridegroom, not always without 
 sensuous and equivocal expressions. Accusations of immoralities 
 practised among these fanatics are probably groundless, though 
 mystic exaltation has always a tendency to lapse into disorderly 
 union of the sexes. 
 
 Zinzendorf's enthusiasm was not a solitary instance. Several 
 princely and country houses reckoned themselves as Pietistic, and 
 the Pietists knew how to impose respect on those who opposed 
 them. In 1709 the Prince of Amhalt-Zerbst issued an edict 
 against them. Thereupon a preacher who was bitten with Pietism 
 heard a voice from heaven ordering him to go to the Prince and 
 testify against him. As this did not answer, Christ himself 
 appeared to the preacher, curiously enough, dressed in the Repub- 
 lican colours, red, white, and blue, and with flaming hair, bade 
 him again warn the Prince. The latter was so frightened that he 
 died seven days after. 
 
 The Counts of Promnitz were among the " illuminated." Count 
 Eidmann was very fond of protracted family prayers, to such an 
 extent as to interfere with the domestic arrangements. His 
 mother was very stout. " My son," said the Dowager Countess, 
 " I love you dearly, and will humour you in many things, but I 
 am too fat to kneel with you two or three hours a day." 
 
 Busching, who " had been converted to a condition of grace " 
 when a boy, visited this family in 1751, and found that the greater 
 part of the day was devoted to reading the Bible and pious talk. 
 
Protestantism. 361 
 
 During unctuous conversation over meals the Countess's lapdog 
 walked about the table and put its wet nose against the meats ; 
 and when a speaker was very earnest and lost in his subject, 
 licked the gravy out of his plate. The devout Countess also had a 
 pair of squirrels " who dwelt in her bosom," but were disturbing 
 to pious converse, and did not savour of holiness, German female 
 society was a ready ground for the springing up of religious 
 enthusiasm, or rather extravagance. The dryness and colourless- 
 ness of Lutheran worship — which, indeed, can hardly be called 
 worship — was calculated to drive women with souls amenable to 
 religious influences to seek expression for their feelings elsewhere. 
 To this must be added the ennui of chateau-life in spots not close 
 to a court and theatres. Marriages were then often unhappy, for 
 they were contracted without love, and married ladies, waxing too 
 old to contract liaisons, yawned for something to disturb the 
 monotony of their lives. Many ladies of the upper classes were 
 condemned to be old maids lest the fortune of the family should be 
 squandered. If they had not husbands and children to love, they 
 would love any religious fanatic who presented himself, for woman 
 must love something. From this it came about that Pietism had 
 so many adherents in the upper classes. The illustrious houses of 
 Solms, Stolberg, Isenburg, Wittgenstein, Leiningen, Eeuss, Prorn- 
 nitz, and Dohna, were all stung with this tarantula. A swarm of 
 apostles, ecstatics, sibyls, spread over the country. In the gather- 
 ings of the " elect," nothing was heard of but marvellous con- 
 versions, sealings, and revelations. The holy community of 
 " Mother Eve " in Schwarzenau was rudely interfered with by the 
 police, and discovered to hide under professions of ecstatic piety 
 proceedings of revolting indecency. 1 
 
 The " saints of Wildisbach," in 1823, crucified and killed an 
 unfortunate young woman. Disclosures followed, convicting the 
 community of gross immoralities as well. 
 
 In 1835 a Pietistic association, under the pastors Ebel and 
 Diestal, had its interior arrangements disturbed by the Countess 
 Finkenstein, who had been drawn into the society by her religious 
 enthusiasm, declining to become the " mother of the Saviour " by 
 Ebel ; a process which was tried on all female postulants. 
 
 1 The depositions taken down and full particulars impossible of reproduction 
 are given in Thomasius' Verniinftige u. Christliche Gedanken, iii. 20S-624. 
 
362 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 The Puritanic party are violently assailed by Marlitt, in her 
 novels, as hypocrites and kill-joys. Hypocrites they are not, but 
 earnest people, who, finding that rationalism is invading the 
 Church after having mastered society, cling with despair and some 
 acrimony to the letter of Scripture, shut their eyes to the dis- 
 coveries of modern hermeneutics, and make their one article of 
 belief — the one on which salvation depends— belief in the verbal 
 inspiration of Scripture. The battle they fight is a lost one; and, 
 knowing this, they fight with the self devotion and fury of the 
 Punic women when Carthage was stormed by the Romans. 
 Doctrines — the Incarnation, miracles, the Trinity, the resurrec- 
 tion, the final judgment, Heaven and Hell, — are only prized be- 
 cause they are .scriptural, and they rank with the order of the 
 Kings of Judah and the date of Sennacherib. 1 That " precious 
 word Mesopotamia," and the Sermon on the Mount, are all equally 
 good because they are all within the covers of Luther's Bible. The 
 children are taught, not so much to believe in God, as to believe 
 in the Bible, not to follow the spirit but to cling to the letter. 
 I have heard, and wondered over, the instruction of children for 
 confirmation in the Evangelical Church. Their memories are 
 burdened with long passages of Scripture and with the most exact 
 knowledge of its contents ; they know which animals were clean 
 and which were unclean, and of how many wives and concubines 
 the household of Solomon was composed; they know all about 
 the journeys of St. Paul, and the number of Selahs that occur in 
 the Psalms; but of practical doctrinal or even moral teaching they 
 get nothing. The Faroese have fifteen different names for as 
 many varieties of fog, in which they live enveloped ten out of 
 twelve months. The Evangelicals profess about as many doc- 
 trines, but they are all vaporous, undefined, undefinable. Any one 
 may lose his way in each of the fifteen, no one can grasp anything 
 in any one of them. 
 
 1 They have a hard time of it both with sceptics and inquirers. The story is 
 told of a Fiankfurt pastor of the orthodox school, that a citizen button-holed him 
 and began to discuss the truth of the Deluge with him. " Do you meau to tell 
 me, you believe the whole story of the Flood and the Ark ? " he asked. " Every 
 word of it," answered the Pfarrer stoutly. " What ! all about the clean beasts 
 going in by sevens, and the unclean by twos?" "I believe it all,*" said the 
 pastor. The Burger paused — he was in the Juden-Strasse — looked round, and 
 said, " Ei^ht Jews in the Ark, aud only two fleas among them I The story 
 carries an Impossibility on the lace of it." 
 
Protestantism. 363 
 
 In Scotland children are so well instructed in the Assembly 
 Catechism, that Calvinism, as a dogmatic system, thiows its fibres 
 into their inmost souls, and is never wholly eradicated. But that 
 is a clear intellectual theory of God's dealings with the world. In 
 after life it may be rejected, but it can never be forgotten. Every 
 logical system sinks into the system and becomes part of it, for 
 its good or bane. It is like mercury. Take calomel as a child, 
 and it will be found in your liver when an old man. Augustine 
 imbibed Manichseism as a youth, and it soured his breath when 
 a Christian bishop. A dogmatic belief gives an indelible stamp 
 to the mind, like a course of Euclid. This is why a Catholic, who 
 has broken from his creed during life, so generally returns to it 
 on his death-bed — a thing unheard of among Protestants. A 
 drowning man will catch at a balk, if he can, if not, at a straw, 
 but never at a bubble. The German Protestants are given nothiug 
 of the kind, for the Evangelical Church has no definite belief. 
 The children's heads are merely crammed full of Scripture, and 
 no sooner do they begin life for themselves than their faith in 
 the sun and moon standing still, and Balaam's ass speaking wi h 
 human voice, gives way, and with these legends goes the whole 
 Gospel story. If one link in the Biblical chain is broken, the 
 whole falls in ruin. If one inch of the dyke of verbal insjDiration 
 gives way, in bursts the flood of unbelief, and submerges every 
 Christian landmark. Whether a dogmatic creed or belief in the 
 infallibility of a book furnish the best grounds of religion may 
 be doubted, but what is certain is, that the former, is the toughest, 
 if only because least easily proved false. A man may believe 
 in God, because he feels that the world is an enigma without that 
 key, and it is impossible to demonstrate the non-existence of God. 
 But if a man's faith be pinned to a document, and that document 
 be proved to have flaws in it, away goes his faith. He may hold 
 that there is a future state as he has been instructed in youth 
 in his creed, and no amount of argument can disprove this 
 article ; but if he believes in it because it is foretold in a book, 
 and that book blunders about the hare chewing its cud, he is very 
 likely to say, a testimony which makes mistakes in matters of 
 daily observation to-day, is not to be trusted when it makes pro- 
 mises for the future. 
 
 As long as a German peasant remains in his village, and sees 
 
364 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 no books or newspapers, he believes in his Bible. He has no 
 great love for it — it bored hiin as a school task — but he believes 
 in it, as he does in the North Pole and the Equator. But directly 
 he goes to a town, he finds that there the whole of the Biblical 
 history in Old and New Testaments is by every one regarded as 
 children's tales, on a level with " Hop-o'-my-Thumb " and " Cin- 
 derella." A little rudimentary criticism disposes of some of the 
 Biblical statements, and the bauer's faith is gone. Now that 
 every young peasant is brought into a town for three years as a 
 soldier, the belief of every one is more or less undermined. The 
 next generation will have no Christian belief whatever. 
 
 But there is another motive cause of disintegration of the 
 national belief, and that is within the Church. The great attrac- 
 tion exercised by the preachers at the Reformation consisted in 
 the fact that they were destructive. There is no pleasure greater 
 than smashing old idols. People crowded to church to hear each 
 Sunday that another of the articles in which they had formerly 
 believed was unscriptural and superstitious. When the excite- 
 ment of doctrine-smashing was over, the laity grew listless. 
 Preachers do not like haranguing empty benches, and it was only 
 natural that some should revert to the old plan, and collect an 
 audience by iconoclastic exhortations. Consequently there are a, 
 great number of pastors in the Evangelical Church who court 
 popularity by preaching rationalism. I do not for a moment hint 
 that they are insincere. They have read modern German Pro- 
 testant theology, and enter the ministry with a burning desire 
 to be reformers, to teach the people to cast the Bible to the bats 
 and owls, as their forefathers cast relics and images. They find 
 that they can draw a congregation by preaching against the 
 leading dogmas of Christianity, miracles, and the inspiration of 
 Scripture, and this encourages them to greater boldness and more 
 advanced rationalism. 
 
 The situation is most curious. ' The Church is based on no forms 
 of faith whatever, but only on Scripture, and it is precisely Scrip- 
 ture which the pastors of that Church are busily engaged every 
 Sunday in exhibiting to the people to be a tissue of fable. The 
 architects of Lagado built their churches from the roof-tree down- 
 wards. The ministers of the Evangelical Church are removing the 
 one stone on which the whole superstructure rests, nothing doubt- 
 
Protestantism. 3G5 
 
 ing that it will remain suspended in the air. I shall quote a few 
 specimens of their proceedings. 
 
 On Trinity Sunday, 1877, the assistant preacher in the one 
 great church given to the Evangelicals in a South German town, 
 where the Protestants number nearly 3000, began his sermon thus: 
 " Now-a-days, none but fools believe in a Trinity. Let us, there- 
 fore, not waste time over such an exploded doctrine, but consider 
 the glories of nature." The same preacher on another occasion 
 gave an exposition of the manner in which Moses hoodwinked the 
 children of Israel. This was his explanation of the miracle of the 
 smitten rock. Moses went about alone in search of a spring of 
 water, and he discovered one leaking out of a rock. He thereupon 
 clinked the orifice with clay, and summoning the people before it, 
 thus addressed them : " Hear, now, ye rebels ; must we fetch you 
 water out of this rock ? " Then, by a dexterous twitch of his rod 
 he removed the plug, and "the water came forth abundantly." 
 
 Now, in this church there is a dean, or head preacher, who is 
 orthodox, insists on the doctrine of the Trinity, and on the inspira- 
 tion of Scripture. He holds service at 9 a.m. and his coadjutor at 
 10.30 a.m. What he insists on in his sermon, his curate denies an 
 hour later. This is an exemplification of what is called the 
 k ' Parallel System," which prevails in a great many places. Th> 
 educated Germans will not go to church where the old-fashioned 
 doctrines are preached, consequently two pastors are provided for 
 a church, one orthodox, the other rationalist ; one who baptizes 
 with the Creed, and one without. The Liberal Protestants now 
 for the must part dispense with baptism, but if they have their 
 children baptized, they choose that it shall be without the recita- 
 tion of the Apostles' Creed, in which they do not themselves 
 believe, and in which they will not undertake to have their children 
 brought up. 
 
 In 1859-61, in the Palatinate, the Eationalist party outnumbered 
 the orthodox, and the hymnal and catechism were purified of dis- 
 tinctive doctrines. Thus, the catechism issued by authority in 
 1869 omits all mention of the Trinity, the Godhead of Jesus Christ, 
 original sin, hell, the resurrection, etc. 
 
 In the synod of 1877 only one-third of the whole number of 
 pastors was orthodox. Thirty-six of the Left endeavoured to have 
 the Apostles' Creed altogether expunged from the service books. 
 
366 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 As an amendment it was proposed to retain the Creed in the books, 
 hut make the reading of it optional, and only three orthodox voted 
 against this. The delegates of the Pfalz, who do not sit in the 
 •■ general synod," drew up and sent in the following memorial, 
 whieh'had passed the provincial synods : — " 1. We hold that it is 
 opposed to the free thinking of the Protestant prineiples of our 
 united Church that any member of it should be bound by any 
 creed. Thus to tie a man's belief up is a violation of the Protestant 
 right of free inquiry, examination of the grounds of religion, and 
 internal conviction. 2. We hold, however, that there should be 
 consent to some basis of teaching, and that this basis should be 
 Holy Scripture and the allowed text-books. 3. We hold that every 
 parish has a right to elect its pastor." 
 
 A writer in the Pfdlzer Zeitung remarks : " This is now our 
 condition in the Evangelical Church. A pastor who chooses to 
 regard the Apostles' Creed as a worn-out relic of the ages of super- 
 stition can put it on one side. Another, to whom the faith in the 
 truths of revelation is all-in-all, may indeed profess it, but have it 
 denied next minute by another minister in the same church. Both 
 sides are served. It is remarkable how far temporisation has gone. 
 And this is only a first step. Others will be taken in the same 
 direction. Our pastors and laity alike will come to regard the 
 verities of the Christian creed as curiosities stored in the service 
 book, as in an antiquarian museum. It is a question now whether 
 a baptism without the Creed can be valid. We shall not be sur- 
 prised if for the future Catholics refuse to acknowledge it, and thus, 
 almost the only link between us will be broken. Here in the 
 Palatinate, as everywhere else in Germany, the doom of the Pro- 
 testant Church is sealed. Positive Christianity will have no foot- 
 hold in it, and must take refuge either in the Catholic Church, or 
 among the Old Lutherans, or in Methodism, and the established 
 Church in its negativism will fall into undisguised heathenism." 
 
 By decision of December 14, 1877, parallel forms of Baptism 
 and Confirmation are provided for the Church in the Palatinate, 
 one with the Creed, the other without. At the same synod thirty- 
 six voted for the abandonment of the Augsburg Confession, i.e. two- 
 thirds of the whole synod, but this motion was laid aside. Now, 
 as the Pfdlzer Zeitung says: "Ein jeder Pfarrer predigt und 
 lehit wie ihm der Schnabel gewachsen ist." 
 
Protestantism. 3G7 
 
 In Schleswig, lately, Fastor Diechmann, who is inspector of 
 schools, instituted a reform of religious instruction of children, by 
 expunging from their Bible text-books 1 everything that savoured 
 of the miraculous, and he boldly defended his reform by saying 
 that " Biblical miracles are unfit for reading in schools, because 
 they are indefensible." Pastor Panlsen of Kropp thereupon charged 
 bini with being an " adulterator of Scripture," for which he has 
 been drawn before the Schleswig court of justice and fined 600 
 marks or 40 days' imprisonment. Thereupon the Consistory has 
 impeached Diechmann for heresy. The Hamburg Correspondenz 
 for February 3, 1878, says, in a leading article, " When we look 
 more closely into what is going on in the established Church, the 
 more convinced we are that the Church is falling headlong to ruin, 
 and that we are, so to speak, sorrowful friends sitting round its 
 deathbed, watching for the last breath. Here and there the Social 
 Democrats have seize'd on the government of the churches, to use 
 them for their destructive polemics. In other places, as in the 
 town of Schleswig, formal declaration of secession from it is made 
 by the upper classes in considerable numbers — a proof of estrange- 
 ment on all sides. And Lstly, and most sadly, the clergy are 
 divided into two hostile camps. 
 
 In Baden the orthodox paity got the upper hand in 1857, and 
 
 proceeded to reconstruct the service book, and give it a liturgical 
 
 character. It met with violent opposition, and was used only by a 
 
 few very determined pastors. Consequently the Grand Duke, as 
 
 summits episccpus, by order in 1858 declared the simplest formulary 
 
 in the book, among alternative offices, the so-called " minimum," 
 
 to be alone valid, and promised the speedy abolition of the other 
 
 forms. In 1867 some alteration in a Liberal direction was made 
 
 in the book. But in the meantime the clergy had become much 
 
 more pronounced in their rationalism, and the orthodox had 
 
 dwindled to a handful. Many pastors absolutely refused to read 
 
 the Apostles' Creed. At last the discontent grew to a head, and 
 
 the Evangelical Synod undertook the reconstruction of the book. 
 
 This was approved by the Oberkirchenrath on March 9, and received 
 
 the imprimatur of the Grand Duke on March 17, 1877. It still 
 
 contains the Creed and the Doxology, but these are put within 
 
 1 Children in German Protestant schools are not given the Bible to read and 
 learn, but selected portions only, a much superior plan to our3. 
 
;}G8 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 brackets as optional, to satisfy the consciences of those pastors who 
 are orthodox, but as a Pfarrer told me, " they are probably not 
 read in half-a dozen churches in the Grand Duchy." The form is 
 provisional. Probably in another ten years it will be supplanted by 
 one from which Creed and Doxology have been absolutely cancelled. 
 The Sunday morning service in this Baden book is thus 
 '■onstructed : — 
 
 1. A hymn. 
 
 2. Votum. An invocation. 
 
 3. Entrance prayer. 
 
 4. Doxology (optional). 
 
 5. Collect. 
 
 6. Lesson from the Bible, to be chosen by the pastor. 
 
 7. Creed (optional). 
 
 8. Sermon. 
 
 9. Hymn (optional). 
 
 10. Chief prayer. 
 
 11. Lord's Prayer. 
 
 12. Hymn. 
 
 1 3. Blessing. " The Lord bless you and keep you," etc. 
 
 By making the lesson optional, the pastor may read only ex- 
 hortatory passages from Scripture, and omit all that is miraculous. 
 And the form of the blessing is unobjectionable, as there is in it no 
 allusion to the Trinity. As will be seen, there is nothing in the 
 service like the English forms of worship. The only part taken by 
 the people is in the hymns. The Communion service is equally 
 simple. The communicants walk round the altar, and receive a 
 piece of bread, standing, at one end, and a draught of wine, stand- 
 ing, at the other end, two pastors generally occupying the ends of 
 the table, for the purpose. There is an amount of formality and 
 absence of religiousness about this service which is somewhat 
 startling to an English or Scottish man. 
 
 The Pastor Klapp, incumbent of Adorf in Waldeck, put himself 
 forward as a candidate for the vacant pastorate of the Church of 
 St. Catherine in Osnabriick. He openly denied'our Lord's divinity, 
 resurrection, and the inspiration of the Scriptures, and was elected 
 by 508 votes against fifty-one. The Consistory at Hanover, how- 
 ever, refused to appoint him. 1 
 
 1 See Klapp : Ein Hannocerisches Glaubensgericht. Hildeskeim, 1875. 
 
Protestantism. 369 
 
 The case of Dr. Hosbach and the Church of St. James at Berlin 
 was somewhat similar; only the majority have been less disposed 
 to submit to have their election overridden. Hosbach was elected 
 in 1876. In his probationary sermon he frankly declared his 
 views : he rejected verbal inspiration and all that is miraculous in 
 the Gospel story. The orthodox minority, horrified at this out- 
 spoken rationalism, left the church during the sermon. A few 
 weeks after, a memorial signed by 900 out of the 30,000 parishioners, 
 was laid before the Brandenburg Consistory, requesting it to refuse 
 confirmation to Dr. Hosbach. The Consistory did so. Thereupon 
 a vestry was summoned, and an overwhelming majority repeated 
 its choice of Hosbach, and referred the case to the decision of the 
 Supreme Consistory. It is only four years since another Berlin 
 pastor, Dr. Sydow, was arraigned before the Brandenburg Con- 
 history for heresy, and acquitted on the grounds that his heresy had 
 been promulgated in the chair of the lecturer, not in the pulpit. 
 Dr. Hermann, President of the Supreme Consistory, was promoted 
 to his place, in order to carry out the Kulturkampf against recal- 
 citrant pastors. As the only pastors who were troublesome were 
 orthodox, his influence has been to extend rationalism in the Evan- 
 gelical Church. He filled all vacancies in the Administrative 
 Board with men of broad views. Dr. Hermann had to hear the 
 appeal against the Brandenburg Consistory made by the favourers 
 of Hosbach. His position was more delicate than before. The 
 Emperor was alarmed at the advance of rationalism, at the boldness 
 with which fundamental doctrines were denied in the pulpits of 
 
 i the Church of which he was Sovereign Pontiff, and Hermann 
 could no longer follow the bent of his desires. On February 1, 
 1878, accordingly, the appeal was rejected. Consequently, Hos- 
 
 i bach does not obtain the pulpit of St. James ; but, on the other 
 hand, he remains unmolested as pastor of the Church of St. Andrew 
 
 | in Berlin. 
 
 A clergyman, whom I knew, was appointed by the Government, 
 Protestant instructor to the boys in the gymnasium. An English 
 
 i gentleman in the town married to a German lady sent his son to 
 the school, and he attended the divinity lectures of the Evangelical 
 pastor. One day, after having given the pupils an elaborate de- 
 scription of the way in which the world was evolved out of nebulous 
 matter, he turned to the English boy, and said, " Now, Wilson, 
 
 2b 
 
370 Germany, present and Past. 
 
 how came the world into heing?" The hoy who — like most 
 English lads — cared little for learned questions, had paid no 
 attention, and answered simply, " God made it." " You block- 
 head ! (Dummkoj)/!) " exclaimed the pastor, catching him a rap on 
 the cheek, "how long will you and your compatriots cling to these 
 old wives' tales (Mahrchen) ? " 
 
 This pastor is now appointed to a fashionable watering-place. 
 
 In the Saxon Chuich in 1811 an oath was imposed on the 
 clergy " to teach pure evangelical doctrine as contained in Holy 
 Scripture, and interpreted in the Augsburg Confession." This was 
 modified into a promise in 1862, and in 1871 further modified, so 
 as to admit of being taken by pastors with the most advanced 
 rationalistic views. 
 
 Pastor Bernet sadly writes : * " What great advantage have we 
 really derived from Luther's reformation ? Does anything remain 
 to us of the results of his vigorous exertions, beyond an empty 
 form and a poor caricature? Where is the living faith which he 
 set up in the place of an external righteousness of works? And 
 where is the spirituality of worship, which, according to the mind 
 and will of Christ, he demanded? One might almost imagine that 
 our Church got rid of the forms, in order, at the same time, to 
 divest itself of the spirit. In the place of the spirit were given, at 
 first, creeds and confessions of faith, which were originally exacted 
 as a matter of necessity, but afterwards became stony tablets of 
 the law. With them and their artificial exposition came over our 
 Chuich a complete Pharisaism, which threatened to stifle the free 
 breath of life. Then came Pietism, partly in various sects, which 
 was a burden to the Church, and neither j'ielded her any assistance, 
 nor obtained success for itself. After this began the period of 
 Rationalism, and many lifted up their heads, as though their re- 
 demption drew nigh. For a time they dreamed of a happy, simple 
 religion, in which they were to behold God with unveiled faces, 
 and no longer under types and images. But the new edifice not 
 only failed to afford the expected advantage of a better spiritual 
 dwelling for man, but soon began itself to totter and fall to the 
 ground. The great mass of the people took only the negative side 
 of Rationalism, the right of declaring themselves free from every 
 belief which rests upon authority, without being willing to under- 
 
 1 Vols neue Heil u. das geschricbene Wort. S. Gallen. 
 
Protestantism. 371 
 
 take also the (certainly unnatural) duty of making a religion for 
 themselves. The new idols stood again, like the old, as empty 
 shadows on the wall, and the people went a- whoring, as before, 
 after their material gods. Religiousness perceptibly declined, the 
 temples emptied, the prayers and hymns were felt to be insipid, 
 the sermons trivial, the vigorous doctrine of the Reformers gave 
 way to a string of timid apologies. Verily, religion was given us 
 by God, and there came at one time a rational belief, and at another 
 unbelieving reason; and our Reformers have touched and retouched 
 the painting, until its true form has altogether disappeared, and it 
 must be recreated by the spirit of God." 
 
 Candidates for the ministry are failing. 1 In January, 1880, 
 for the whole Protestant Church in the Bavarian Palatinate, and 
 in Baden, i.e. for 865,000 Protestants, there were twenty-one candi- 
 dates at Heidelberg; in 1878 only thirteen. For Baden alone, with 
 491,000 Protestants, there were in 1876 only six candidates for 
 orders. In that year three pastors died, five retired from the 
 ministry, four were superannuated; consequently there were 
 twelve vacancies. 
 
 If elsewhere matters are not so bad, it is due, in great measure, 
 to the i'act that times are bad, and it is difficult for young men 
 to get work in other professions. Pastor Zittel, Dean of Karlsruhe, 
 noting the declension of attendance at church, asks whether an 
 improvement of the services would attract congregations. But, 
 he answers, anything liturgical would be clean contrary to the 
 principles of Evangelicalism, and such an idea must be given up. 
 Thinking that doctrinal hymns and those of the Litany descrip- 
 tion give offence and keep people from church — hymns suchjas 
 Grant's " Saviour, when in dust to Thee," etc. — he proposes their 
 omission ; that the prayers should be abandoned, the creed 
 abolished, and the sermon converted into a lecture. The Dean's 
 only notion of recovering an audience is to go altogether with the 
 rationalistic stream. 2 But, will the interest of an audience con- 
 
 1 " In consequence of the deficiency of candidates which has come about 
 in some parts sooner, in others later, but especially in the last ten years, in ever 
 increasing measure, many parishes are left without pastors." — Graue : Der 
 Mangel an Theologen. Berlin, 1876. Within a walk — an easy walk of my 
 house, last winter, were two parishes devoid of incumbents, and I heard of 
 many more — going a-begging. But there were no applicants. 
 
 * Zittel : Der Protestantische Guttesdienst. Berlin, 1875. 
 
:>72 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 tinue after all the bouks in the Bible and articles in the Creed 
 have been demolished? 
 
 If the Evangelical Church were a moral power, we might 
 forgive it for being without a belief; but this it is not. It 
 exercises little if any moral influence over consciences, which are 
 moulded by social custom and law, and not by ethical instruction 
 given by the Church. 
 
 The union was a centralising measure. The object was to 
 make the Church, like the post-office, telegraphs, and army, a 
 department of the State, ruled by a special Minister of Public 
 Worship as vicar-general under the Sovereign. This is so obvious, 
 that the Social Democrats, to spite the Government, are agitating 
 to leave the established Church in a mass. For proposing this 
 measure, some of their speakers have been prosecuted as guilty 
 uf treason. On February 1, 1878, a large gathering of women 
 was assembled in the Eenz Hall in Berlin, for the purpose of 
 registering:; their secession from the Evangelical Church. The 
 ace unt of this meeting I extract from a German paper of 
 February 3 : — 
 
 " The hall was crammed long before the time announced — half- 
 past eight. On the platform were Most and the Missiondirektor 
 Wangemann. Women of all ages were there, some in white 
 nightcaps, and many fresh-cheeked young girls. The chair was 
 taken by Frau Prasidentin Hahn. She introduced Most, who 
 began: 'Gentlemen! (a burst of shrill voices — 'Ladies! ladies!'') 
 — I beg your pardon, ladies ! I have so often had to address 
 men, that for a moment I forgot that I was not called to speak 
 before my usual audience.' He then proceeded to say that the 
 attendance of so many women showed the interest they took in 
 the matter, and that they were not content to remain in the groat 
 political and religious movements of the day, as non-effectives 
 (lit. as a fifth wheel). He was interrupted by cries of 'Water! 
 water ! ' for a lady of the audience had fainted, and the carrjung 
 i if her out caused some commotion. 'Woman,' he continued, 
 when silence was re-established, ' has been enslaved for ages and 
 consigned to the background. Even the Bible says that man 
 was made the colossus of the earth, and woman was an after- 
 thought fashioned out of a rib {cries of ' Shame ! shame ! '). Women 
 and girls in the social crush are squeezed as lemons. Men e^ow 
 
Protestantism. .373 
 
 their way to the front, "but women are trodden into the dirt of 
 the street. What are the wages the working-man gets? Are 
 they enough to support him, and keep him from beggary in his 
 old age? (Tremendous applause.) And how then does it fare with 
 women? Can they lay by for a rainy day? Now German men 
 have organized a society for the reduction of the misery of man- 
 kind, for expelling the idlers and hucksters out of the Temple, and 
 for enthroning freedom and fraternity in the earth. This society 
 is Social Democracy. Let not women be frightened by the scaring 
 name, but rather goad their husbands into Social Democracy.' 
 Herr Most went on to explain the alphabet of Social Democracy, 
 with a running accompaniment of attacks on capitalists, specu- 
 lators, the Fortschritt party, the Liberals, the Catholic Union, and 
 the Christian Socialists. The people, he said, must not let them- 
 selves be fed on adulterated milk, and that was what the Christian 
 Socialists were offering them. 1 He and his party had hitherto 
 let the pastors alone, and it was false to assert that he was in- 
 variably scoffing at Christianity. But when pastors entered into 
 political meetings and tried to throw dust in the eyes of the 
 people, and form a party to break up the united phalanx of Social 
 Democracy, then it was time for them to be up and attack the 
 pastors, and rend them to pieces, as they attempted to rend Social 
 Democracy. (Enthusiastic applause.) It was now Pull Tiger pnll 
 Duff! As the pastors had sought to withdraw the people from 
 Social Democracy, he demanded that the people as a body should 
 secede from the established Church. To this he invited the 
 women. He called on them openly to proclaim their separation 
 from a Church in which they had ceased to believe (applause), and 
 to declare : ' We will have our heaven upon earth, for that which 
 is future we believe not in. Our gospel is Social Democracy, and 
 Social Democracy is our creed. Here on earth will we enjoy 
 ourselves. Let the idle bellies no longer devour what the active 
 hands have earned. Here we will revel and not rot.' (Tremendous 
 and prolonged cheers, then commotion caused by the fainting of several 
 girls.) 
 
 " Frau Schultze then rose and asked that the speeches might 
 be intermitted to allow of the audience refreshing themselves with 
 
 1 A serai-Socialist society founded by some Berlin pastors, well-intentioned, 
 but not successful. 
 
374 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 beer. This was rejected by a majoiityin a show of hands, and 
 the proceedings continued. Beer was passed over the heads of 
 the andienco to those who demanded it, whilst the speeches went 
 on, till an altercation arose from some who had taken the beer 
 declining to pay for it, when the proprietor of the buffet refused to 
 pass any more in this manner. 
 
 " Frau Halm 1 continued the proceedings. 'Ladies!' she said, 
 ' I will tell you how it is that I am here in this assembly. I am 
 the mother of five children. It is a long time since I shook myself 
 clear of the Church. Why so? Because I was sick of my belief; 
 what I am I have made myself! (' Bravo / ') I hold to the found- 
 ation, Do right and fear no man. I want no Bible, and no pastor, 
 and no law ! (Applause.') I am not a wife only, but also an 
 aunt. My husband has two sisters, who live in a miserable den. 
 One is advanced in life, and has two unbaptized children. The 
 other is unmarried and sickly ; she suffers from bad legs. As aunt. 
 I went there and declared that I would help them to the best of 
 my ability so long as the children remained unbaptized, but that 
 if they were given this Sacrament, I would shake off my interest 
 iu them, and leave them to shift for themselves ! (' Bravo ! ') The 
 other day I entered this den, and found there two men, one with 
 his hair cropped, the other with his long. " Halloo ! " said I, "what 
 do these fanatics (Mucker') want here ? " (Laughter.) And when 
 they said something about baptism and the Church, I made bold 
 to tell them a bit of my mind, and bade them pack out of the 
 house, for it was a disgrace for them to be in it ; and I threatened 
 if they did not depart at once, to charge them before the police 
 with having come there for improper purposes! (Thunders of 
 applause.) Ladies, let us pluck up courage. What are we? We 
 are the money-hoarders at home. We know what social questions 
 mean. Let us buckle to it and drive our husbands into Social 
 
 Democracy. We need no church, we need no pastors, we " 
 
 (here followed a sentence so gross that the German papers did not 
 report it). " (Applause.) ' If you want a belief, invent one for 
 yourselves. If you want to pray, go into your closet. If you 
 must have a pastor, ordain your own ? ' (Stormy applause and 
 protracted laughter.) 
 
 " Fi au Schlamsky then rose and said : ' The other day a pastor 
 
 1 Hahn, I may observe, is generally a Jewish name. 
 
Protestantism. 375 
 
 came to me and spoke of my children and church-going. I said to 
 him, " We have no time for that sort of tiling, and as for Christian 
 charity, not a crust have I had from my pastor ! " ' (Loud approval.) 
 " Fraulein Hofer next attempted the narration of her grievances, 
 but began sobbing, and could not continue. This caused much 
 merriment, which only increased the young woman's distress. 
 Whereupon the presidentess called order, and requested the audi- 
 ence to show more sympathy with a suffering damsel who was 
 labouring under a broken heart. 
 
 " Frau Lehmann 1 then told of a pastor who had given a Bible 
 and an old shirt to a starving woman. And so the meeting went on. 
 " Director Wangemann made an oratorical panegyric on woman- 
 kind in general. Herr Most again insisted on all right-minded 
 women seceding from the Evangelical Church. Frau Naun 
 seconded this proposal, and announced, amidst loud applause, that 
 thenceforth she had done with parsons. 
 
 " It was long after midnight when the meeting broke up. 
 From the hall all down the Naunyn-Strasse was a long tail of men 
 shivering in the cold, waiting for their respective wives, daughters, 
 and sweethearts." 
 
 1 Another Jewish nam©. 
 
 <^> 0^ THE! 
 
 [university; 
 
170 Germany, Present and Pas*. 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 THE LABOUR QUESTION. 
 
 Was bringt Ihr neues, Jery?— 
 Das Alte, B'ately. 
 
 Goethe : Jery u. B'dtely. 
 
 Persons with fixed incomes have, during the last ten or fifteen 
 years, found a growing difficulty in making both ends meet. The 
 price of everything has increased. Labour is dearer, coals at one 
 time double in price, and up with coals goes the price of iron. . It 
 costs a third more to build a house than it did five years ago. It 
 is always pleasant to have a whipping-boy. Those pinched in 
 means, and those capitalists who cannot turn over their money 
 and make it grow by geometric progression, must lay blame some- 
 where, and trades-unions are the common object of abuse and de- 
 nunciation. 
 
 " The workmen," says Adam Smith, " desire to get as much, 
 the masters to give as little, as possible. The former are disposed 
 to combine in order to raise, the latter in order to lower, the wages 
 of labour." What is sauce for the goose, is sauce also for the 
 gander. If it be lawful for employers to unite to keep the price 
 of labour down, it is lawful also for the employed to unite to 
 enforce what they consider a proper recognition of the value of 
 their labour. 
 
 In Edward III.'s reign the Statute of Labourers was passed, 
 which limited wages at a time when a diminution of the working- 
 classes by a pestilence made labour more valuable. "Such laws," 
 says Mr. Mill, with noble indignation, " exhibit the infernal spirit 
 of the slave-master, when to retain the working-classes in avowed 
 slavery has ceased to be practicable." So late as 1725 the Man- 
 
The Labour Question. 377 
 
 chester Justices in quarter-sessions drew up a tariff of wages, and 
 ordained that workmen conspiring to obtain more should for the 
 third offence stand in the pillory and lose an ear. 
 
 If there be but one mercer's shop in a country town, he may 
 put his own price on his ribands, but if there be two or three, 
 competition will bring the prices down. If there be but one 
 gardener in a town, all the old ladies who want their flower-beds 
 put to rights will compete with one another to get him, and he 
 may command almost any wage. But if there be twenty, and 
 only a dozen gardens to be trimmed, the competition fur work is 
 on the side of the men, and the old ladies hire the cheapest. If 
 competition be too brisk, the mercers will sell below cost, and the 
 gardeners work for what will not support their families : one will 
 fail, the other starve. Before this takes place, in their mutual 
 interests the mercers agree among themselves to take a moderate 
 profit, and the gardeners to ask a reasonable wage, and not to 
 undersell one another. What is fair and just for the tradesman, is 
 fair and just for the labourer. 
 
 When the population is very numerous, there is a tendency, in 
 the order of nature, for labour to become very cheap. It may 
 become so cheap that men cannot support families on what they 
 earn. They must therefore unite, and fix the price of their labour. 
 They are perfectly justified in so doing. Trades-unions are a social 
 necessity. They may have acted injuriously to the men's interests, 
 and to the general prosperity of trade in the country, in some 
 cases, but that was because they were experiments in England, and 
 young institutions must make blunders before they go right. A 
 child strums discords before it strikes harmonies ; stumbles and 
 gets blows before it walks upright. What is regrettable in the 
 matter of trades-unions is, not that they exist, but that they did 
 not exist earlier; that we should be living in the age of their 
 discords and tumbles, and not of their harmonies and uprightness. 
 
 The labour question is a very much more delicate one, and 
 subject to more changing influences than it was a quarter of a 
 century ago. In 1861, Professor Beesly recommended workmen 
 .to keep up the price of labour by keeping down the number of 
 their children. He wrote : " Although plenty of men are to be 
 found in every rank of life, who recklessly produce families which 
 they have no means of supporting, there are only two classes of 
 
378 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 whom it may be said, that such shameless selfishness is the rule 
 rather than the exception — the agricultural paupers, and the 
 clergy of the Established Church. Both these classes abdicate al! 
 responsibility, and are content to leave the prospects of their off- 
 spring to chance or charity. Among the skilled mechanics earning 
 comfortable wages, there is, we believe, something more of prudence 
 and self-respect ; but it is hardly to be expected that improvement 
 in this respect will become general, so long as public opinion looks 
 leniently upon conduct as degrading as it is anti-social. At present, 
 if an artisan limits his family within reasonable bounds, it is for 
 reasons that concern only himself and those dependent on him. 
 He objects to diminish his comforts, he thinks it his duty to give 
 his children a fair start in life ; he desires to exempt his wife from 
 the miserable drudgery which a large and constantly increasing- 
 family entails. All these motives deserve the highest respect ; but 
 regard for the interests of his class would be a still nobler principle 
 of action." So infanticide, or what is as bad, is to help to keep up 
 the wages of the working-classes ! The advice is as unnatural as 
 it is immoral, and what is more, it will not answer its purpose. 
 The price of labour is not now regulated by the number of candi- 
 dates for work among the English artisans. Railways and steam- 
 boats have widened the circle whence the produce of labour is 
 drawn. The gaps artificially made in our population, acting on 
 Professor Beesly's advice, are filled with Germans and Italians. 
 
 It is a question which must be solved in the next ten or fifteen 
 years, whether, in the presence of modern facilities of traffic and 
 inter-communication, the present organisation of trades-unions can 
 be made available. An international union may succeed, but then 
 it may be doubted whether all the teeming thousands of thousands 
 asking for work in the wide world can be compelled to enter it. 
 Already in London, and Manchester, and Liverpool, Germans have 
 dethroned English clerks from their stools, because they are con- 
 tent with lower wages. The iron for the new Law Courts came 
 from Belgium. Half a century ago all Normandy was supplied 
 with cotton and woollen goods from Manchester and Leeds. Now 
 the fair landscape about Rouen and Elbceuf bristles with ohimneys, 
 and the water reeks with d} 7 e. A few years ago our cloths and 
 serges found iheir way over South Germany. Now the valleys of 
 the Bavarian and Austrian Alps, and of Switzerland, are crowded 
 
The Labour Question. 379 
 
 with mills. All spring, autumn, and summer, wafer-power from 
 the mountains is available at no cost. Labour is cheap, fur a 
 stream of operatives pours over the Brenner and up the Finstermiinz 
 from overteeming Italy, asking work at any price. Consequently 
 manufacturers there can undersell English goods, and have ban- 
 ished them from the market. 
 
 France has artificially kept down its natural growth of children. 
 The men of Vorarlberg, Montafuu, the Bregenzer Wald, etc., pour 
 over Fiance when the frosts yield, and do mason's work. But fur 
 that influx, the price of labour in the building-trade would be 
 enormous — so enormous that there would be no building done. 1 
 An intimate friend had a fixed sum of money to lay out in adding 
 a drawing-roorn and staircase to his house. It could not be done 
 handsomely, and in keeping with the rest of the house, in England, 
 for the sum he had at his disposal. He had a carved oak staircase, 
 plaster ceiling, parqueterie floor, carved and panelled walls and 
 chimney-piece, and sculptured stonework completed in Germany, 
 and sent him to England. And the whole came to less than the 
 sum he had estimated, just half the sum it would have cost in 
 England. 
 
 Window and door frames come ready made in thousands from 
 Norway. An English joiner will charge — say thirty shillings for 
 a window-frame. A Norwegian frame costs twenty shillings. 
 Consequently the Norwegian carpenter gets the job, and not the 
 English tradesman. The Carpenters' Union is worsted by fiee 
 trade, by foreign competition. 
 
 But I am not writing an article on the principles of trades- 
 unions, but on the labour question as it stands in Germany. There 
 also trades-unions exist, and capitalists have had difficulties with 
 them, but not to the same extent as in England. They are not 
 there modern creations, but legitimate children of mediaeval organ- 
 isations. The labour question is not one of to-day only, it is not, 
 as is supposed, an introduction of the modern system of manufac- 
 ture, the result of wholesale production. It existed before factory 
 manufacture, when wholesale business was unknown, when each 
 artisan worked in his house assisted by a few apprentices. It 
 came to the surface again and again during the Middle Ages, with 
 
 1 A stonecutter or mason in France in 1878 got five francs a day and his 
 keep. 
 
380 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 more or less dangerous symptoms, attended with more or less 
 violence ; for, in fact", it, became a necessity from the moment that 
 slavery ceased, and free labour entered the field, and that is more 
 than a thousand years ago. It is a question intimately linked 
 with the rise and fall of the prices of food, and the growth of 
 requirements of life, as cause and effect. It is a question starting 
 into the foreground the moment the artisan is allowed participation 
 in the good things of life, and does not depend, as in slavery, 
 on the will of his lord, and receive from him everything as an 
 unmerited gift. As soon as the workman is free, he becomes a 
 contracting party in an engagement, and his consent must be won 
 before he will undertake a work. His time is his own, his hands 
 are his own, his skill is his own, and he may fix upon them what 
 price he chooses. 
 
 The three great questions of contention between master and 
 man have been : 1. The right of the former to import foreign 
 labour, and so keep down the price of native labour. 2. The 
 number of hours which the artisan is to work. And 3. The wage 
 he is to receive for his labour. 
 
 The first matter of dispute rarely came to the front in Germany ; 
 it was not a burning question, as in England and America. In 
 Germany, it was customary for the Gesell, the ancestor of the 
 workman of to-day, to travel all over the country, even over 
 Europe, working wherever he could, and picking up everywhere 
 experience. 
 
 It was different in England. Our apprentices did not leave the 
 island ; and maintained a jealous suspicion of foreigners. In 1517, 
 on the eve of May day, the 'prentices of London rose in riot against 
 the foreigners who had settled in the City, and were carrying 
 away, as they thought, the profits from English industry. On 
 May day eve the Alderman of the ward arrested an apprentice who 
 with others was playing at bucklers in Cheapside, as a whisper had 
 gone through London that on May day all foreigners were to be 
 massacred. This was the signal for an outbreak. "Clubs! clubs!" 
 was the cry. In an instant a mob of some 700 persons was in arms 
 in Cheapside ; and soon after, a body of 300 more turned the 
 corner from St. Paul's Churchyard. The prisoner was rescued, 
 Newgate was forced, and all who had been imprisoned for violence 
 to foreigners released. The riot grew worse and worse ; expresses 
 
The Labour Question. 381 
 
 were sent to the King : Sir Thomas More himself rode forth to try 
 and pacify the mob ; Cardinal Wolsey wa- in conference with the 
 City authorities; the Lieutenant of the Tower was shooting off 
 certain pieces of ordnance against the City, but doing no great 
 hurt. Towards three o'clock of the morning the young rioters' 
 strength began to fail, and many were taken prisoners. The King 
 was furious. No half measures would satisfy him. Two hundred 
 and seventy eight prisoners, some lads of thirteen or fourteen years 
 old, were brought through the streets, tied with ropes, to trial ; 
 thirteen were adjudged to be hanged, drawn, and quartered; and 
 for the execution of this sentence ten pairs of gallows were set up 
 above the City. The 7th of May was to witness this prompt 
 administration of the law ; and one had already forfeited his life, 
 when a reprieve from the King arrived. 
 
 In 1586 again, a conspiracy was formed by the apprentices of 
 London for a general massacre of the foreigners, but a timely dis- 
 covery of the plot handed over some of the ringleaders to the safe 
 custody of Newgate, and saved the body at large from the disgrace 
 of such an outrage. The number of foreigners at this time in 
 London was considerable. For when the numbers were taken in 
 ] 593, they were found to amount to 5,259. 
 
 Chinese labour has begun seriously to tell on the price of native 
 labour in America. We might import any number of Italians for 
 any sort of work, and the Tyrolean valleys would supply us with 
 any number of masons. 
 
 As regards length of time for which the artisan worked, this 
 was a matter touching him too closely not to be subject of dispute, 
 when it was not settled by traditional usage. An unwritten law 
 generally existed fixing the time when work began and when it 
 broke off. The church bell sounded for both. . To this day, in dis- 
 tricts where the railway has not introduced new ideas, the bauer 
 dares not plough and hoe his own plot of land before or after the 
 customary hour. He injures no one by rising early and working 
 late, but he breaks immemorial custom, and that is sacred, made 
 sacred as a treaty of peace contracted between master and man, 
 bauer and landlord, before the soil fell to him. Only twice in the 
 year came a variation : in spring and in autumn. Then arose the 
 question of work by candlelight. Should the apprentice go on 
 working by lamplight, when the daylight failed, till the church 
 
382 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 bell sounded his release, or did the cessation of daylight emancipate 
 him ? That was a question hotly controverted. 
 
 This question was, however, settled at last by compromise 
 between employer and employed. Before the autumn equinox the 
 apprentice was not obliged to work by artificial light. If the 
 clouds obscured the sun, or the mist was so dense that he could not 
 see, then he was not forced to continue his work, however many 
 limps and candles were lighted in the shop. But it was dilTeient 
 after the autumn equinox : then the church bell, and not daylight, 
 released him. 
 
 To establish the compact as a custom, several usages were intro- 
 duced. On the eve of the autumn equinox, the " Lichtganz," a 
 roast-goose, was served for supper, and as soon as the goose had 
 been partaken of, the duty of work by candlelight began. In 
 spring, the close of work by candlelight was marked by other 
 customs. At Niirnberg, on the eve of the vernal equinox, an iron 
 candelabrum containing twelve candles was carried in procession 
 'by the 'prentices to the Pegnitz and there extinguished. From 
 that moment the workman was not bound to his task after dusk. 
 Such customs served to stamp the arrangement as a rule which was 
 not to be broken, and long after the quaint ceremonies were aban- 
 doned, the rule was rigidly held. But the strife about the duration 
 of labour was not laid at rest altogether ; it altered its face, and 
 became one, not of hours, but of days. It had been settled during 
 how many hours of the day the artisan was to work, but not on 
 how many days in the week. He asked a day's holiday, Monday j 
 he sought to shorten his period of work from six days to five, and 
 in this form the contest continued to be waged till the present 
 century, when it has reverted to the number of hours. I shall 
 return to the " Guten Montag " presently. 
 
 Other means were adopted for reconciling the conflicting 
 interests of master and man. The former paid the same sum 
 whether the man worked eight or nine hours a day, five or six 
 days a week, and whether he worked with a will or idled. Piece- 
 work was therefore introduced. The master paid only for work 
 done. Under the old system the idling of the man was a loss to 
 the master, by piecework it was a loss to the idler. This very 
 simple arrangement allowed of a diligent man earning more than a 
 lazy one. It encouraged application and technical skill. Many 
 
The Labour Question. 383 
 
 trades reserved to themselves the privilege of paying by piecework. 
 Others left it to agreement between masters and men, which mode 
 of payment was to be adopted. Uniformity existed as little, nay 
 less, than in our own day, for piece payment was an impossibility 
 in many branches of trade. 
 
 It is, therefore, the more remarkable, that trades which had 
 hitheito preferred piecework, and in which it alone was customary, 
 suddenly altered their practice, forbade it, and ordered the men to 
 be paid by the hour or week. Trades which in the fourteenth 
 century had required all masters to give out their work by piece, 
 iti the following century forbade it peremptorily ; and the reason 
 for this was, that it was found detrimental to the quality of the 
 work. The artisans scamped their work ; they sought to gain 
 more wage by quantity produced than by excellence of quality. 
 The important trade of fustian- weavers in Ulm had piecework till 
 the beginning of the fifteenth century, then it was forbidden, 
 because the merchants complained of the deterioration in the fus- 
 tian, and threatened to withdraw their custom from Ulm. Curiously 
 enough, piecework was complained of and refused by many 
 labourers on the same grounds. They declared that it was injuri- 
 ous to the quality of the work, and gave advantages to the 
 unscrupulous workman. As the quality declined, the price of 
 the goods went down, and thus the honest artisan suffered for the 
 dishonesty of the other. 
 
 In the fifteenth century, the tailors of Basel refused to continue 
 piecework, because they said that system acted injuriously on the 
 trade, — the bad artisan who ran his work together, and sent it 
 out looking well, but falling to pieces on first, wear, was better 
 paid than the patient and conscientious man who fastened off all 
 his threads, and locked his stitches. The tailors of Basel demanded 
 that all should be paid a day's wage alike, whether they were 
 experienced hands or new beginners. 
 
 Piecework, which at first sight seems such a ready solution to 
 the difficulty, so just and natural, on experience has proved to be 
 defective. It does not unite sufficiently the interests of the 
 employer and employed for the production of good work. A closer 
 union of interests has been sought of late in the system of tantieme 
 partnership or co-operation. Piecework and timework alike have 
 i lnir disadvantages. In timework, the master pays for the 
 
:384 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 idleness of his men ; in piecework, the work itself deteriorates, 
 and the good artisan suffers for the scamping of the idler. Co- 
 operative undertakings are free from these evils : the net gain 
 which went into the employer's pocket is divided among the 
 < operatives. As the prices rise, so does the wage ; one regulates 
 the other. This, the ideal condition, is not so modern a system as* 
 is supposed. It was very general, though not quite in the modern 
 f. rm, from the fourteenth to the seventeenth century. The 
 receipts of the week were thrown into a box, and this was un- 
 locked on Sunday, and the contents divided according to a pre- 
 arranged contract. The workman got the third, fourth, or fifth penny. 
 Artisans engaging on this system were called "Theilknechte," 
 or " Biichsengesellen." This sort of wage ceased at the end of the 
 seventeenth century. In more recent times it has been again 
 attempted, but under a modern form, by Schulze-Delitzsch. The 
 modern " Genossenschaften " are associations of artisans or small 
 manufacturers, with the object of uniting their active ability and 
 small capitals against the overwhelming power of the large 
 employers. The old guilds of the German towns were able to 
 enforce their decrees on all the members of the craft, and no 
 (•raftsman could exist outside the guild. The modern " Genossen- 
 schaften" are free associations of artisans. They were first started 
 in Germany in 1860, and since that date have grown and spread. 
 The experiments have not, however, lasted sufficiently long, or 
 been sufficiently numerous, for a judgment to be formed upon 
 them. Theoretically no system can be fairer, or more calculated 
 to promote activity, interest in their work, and contentment among 
 the associates, but, as in the case of piecework, there may be a 
 disturbing element in the calculation on which we have not 
 reckoned, and which will only come to light when the experiment 
 has been given a trial of at least a quarter of a century. 
 
 It is certain that the mediaeval attempts at co-operation 
 failed ; and it is impossible not to conclude that in some manner 
 not very clear to us, they missed their aim, and proved as open 
 to objection as piecework. This was so, moreover, under circum- 
 stances far more favourable to success than the present. 
 
 In olden times there were no large manufactories with many 
 hundred workmen in them, but a host of little masters, each of 
 whom took a fixed number of apprentices. A few years ago it 
 
The Labour Question. 385 
 
 was much the same in the Yorkshire cities of the Western Hills. 
 The rattle of the loom sounded from every house. Each house- 
 holder had a few workmen under him. The large manufacturers 
 built their factories, used steam, and beat the little weavers out of 
 the field ; those who h id been mastei's were forced to become 
 operatives in the great mill. In the Middle Ages, the " Gesellen " 
 were the workmen under the master, but they were not workmen 
 doomed to be under subjection all their lives. After a few years 
 they obtained the freedom of the city, and became masters them- 
 selves. Every master was therefore bound to train his apprentice 
 to become eventually independent. For this purpose he was 
 legally required to give him an insight into every particular of 
 the business. The apprentice acquired from his master not only 
 technical skill and dexterity in the manufacture, but also the 
 requisite knowledge of all that pertained to the business com- 
 mercially. He was taught the cost of the raw material, to calculate 
 the expense of working it up, and to reckon the net profits. He 
 was sent to purchase the raw stuff, and attended his master at the 
 marts at which the material was sold, after having g me through 
 his hands. If the master failed to give his pupil this knowledge, 
 to let him into all the mysteries of the trade, he was punished by 
 his guild. Consequently, the apprentice knew exactly the 
 economy of the harness, he knew what wage it would afford, and 
 whether the profits would allow of it being raised, or necessitated 
 its being lowered. In those trades where such an insight could 
 not be granted, which depended on the skill of the individual, and 
 was less mechanical, in painting, or goldsmith's work, for instanc-, 
 the system of tantieme never prevailed. 
 
 Under such circumstances as described, no difficulties about 
 wage were likely to aiise. There could be no conflict of opinion 
 between master and men. All knew what the net profits were, 
 and what was the share due to the employer, and what fell to the 
 employed. The only question which might be disputed, was 
 whether the mechanic should have the third, the fourth, or the 
 fifth penny ; but this was usually determined by the cost of the 
 raw material and of production. This system answered well 
 enough under old simple commerical conditions ; but when every- 
 thing bought ceased to be paid for in ready money, and bills, and 
 promissory notes, and outstanding accounts with accumulating 
 
 2c 
 
386 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 interest upon them entered into the ledger, when perhaps for some 
 weeks the box was without money to be divided, then the tantieme 
 ceased to be practised. It was impossible to carry it out. Manu- 
 factures were carried on on a larger scale, and it was not practicable 
 to submit the accounts to the operatives. Modern commerce made 
 the ledger a riddle except to those who had been educated to 
 interpret it. In extensive manufactures, with wide commercial 
 ramifications and minute subdivision of labour, a vast number of 
 those employed know, and can know, only their own special 
 branch of the industry, and have neither the knowledge nor the 
 capacity for judging of the cost and risk of a speculation. They 
 cannot keep their hands at work on the spinning-jennies and at 
 the same time on the pulse of trade. The disposal of the gross 
 receipt, how much of it is to go to the mechanic, and how much 
 into his own pocket, must be left to the employer. 
 
 The workmen have little knowledge of the meaning of capital, 
 of the cost, and especially the risks, of trade. They underrate all 
 these, mistrust the employer, and will not be persuaded that they 
 receive a fair proportion of the profits. 
 
 Under the mediaeval system of retail manufacture, co-operntion 
 was simple enough, but with the modern system of wholesale 
 manufacture its success is problematical. The condition is less 
 favourable, and it may well be doubted whether co-operative 
 production of manufactured goods is practicable. Success in 
 business is like success in war, it depends on instantaneous per- 
 ception of what is needed, and on rapid execution. In it, as 
 Hamlet says, "the readiness is all!" A great business can no 
 more be carried on successfully by a parliament of all employed in 
 it, than can a campaign by conducting it in accordance with the 
 opinions and votes of the soldiers engaged. One must take the 
 risks and reap the ruin or the glory. 
 
 As soon as the trades in the German towns had begun to 
 associate themselves in guilds — and this took place in the twelfth 
 century — they formed corporations of really wonderful organisation. 
 The members were bound together with a firmness such as probably 
 no other body, not even the Church, exhibited. Whoever would 
 support himself from his trade must enter the association of his 
 trade, and submit without appeal to all its laws. As there was no 
 salvation out of the Church, there was no working at a trade out 
 
The Labour Question. 387 
 
 ■sc 
 
 of a guild. The only escape was to take refuge on the lands of a 
 noble. He had the privilege to harbour artisans wbo would not 
 belong to their trade-union. In each union, every member who 
 belonged to it, belonged with his wife, sons and daughters, 
 servants, maids and apprentices. All were received into tbe union 
 and all were forced to obey its laws. Whatever concerned a 
 member, touched the body, affected the whole trade ; joy or sorrow, 
 a birth of a child, a marriage, a death, whether of master, servant 
 or child, was a common matter of rejoicing or lamentation to the 
 entire guild. Whoever transgressed a law of his union paid the 
 penalty in money, and was excluded for a shorter or longer time 
 from the trade; and during excommunication dared not work at 
 it. This power of the trade was not exercised merely about trade 
 concerns, but the whole life of the member was placed under 
 supervision. Offences against morals were punished by it, just as 
 were infringements of trade regulations. Indeed, the guilds were 
 armed with power of fining, and confiscation, and imprisonment to 
 an unlimited extent; only power over life, and of mutilation, was 
 reserved to the Sovereign. This bond and discipline were common 
 to all trades alike, even — though more rarely — to those specially 
 filled with women, as the guilds of midwives and of sempstresses. 
 The determination of rules and privileges fell to the masters alone, 
 who met in their guild-halls, and legislated for their respective 
 trades as republican despots. 
 
 But this account does not complete the idea of the power of 
 these unions. The tradesmen in one town were not isolated, 
 they were in intercommunication with the trades-unions in other 
 towns. 
 
 At certain times, on the so-called " Handwcrkstage," the masters 
 of the confederated cilies assembled, or appeared by deputies in 
 a certain town, and in parliament determined the laws which 
 should have force in their guild in all the confederated towns. 
 The trades were united in districts. Thus the guilds of all the 
 towns of SwaL'ia were united, so were those on the Upper, Middle, 
 and Lower Rhine, in Lower Saxony, Silesia, etc. In 1457 and 
 1184 the tailors of the Upper Rhine and Frankfurt held a diet 
 at Speier, in which delegates from the tailor guilds in twenty 
 towns appeared. In the sixteenth century the bakers of Ilildes- 
 heim, Brunswick, Alsfeld, Bokum, and other towns held a diet at 
 
3S8 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 ilildeshcim, ami, as an old chronicler says, " ate up on that occasion 
 all the calves in the place." 
 
 The larger trades extended their union throughout Germany. 
 At their diets, laws were passed which were to be in force for a 
 fixed period, eight or ten years. These laws regulated everything 
 concerning the trade, especially the manner in which the wage 
 was to be paid, the proportion in which it should stand to the net 
 receipt, and the treatment of the artisans and apprentices. All 
 this was comprised in the word " Gesellenrecht." In the Middle 
 Ages there were various " rights : " the right by which nobles 
 were judged ; the " Landesrecht," which ruled the condition of the 
 yeoman and peasant ; the " Biirgerrecht," by which the citizens 
 were governed ; and the " Gesellenrecht," which was the code of 
 the trades. A master who did not submit, to this right, who, for 
 instance, made his own private arrangements with his workmen, 
 different from those sanctioned by the trade-union, was fined. If 
 he repeated the offence, he was dismissed the guild. A workman 
 who would not aic> j pt the terms agreed to was obliged to leave his 
 master, and no other master in the district dare give him work, 
 at the risk of being himself expelled the union. The artisan was, 
 however, protected in his rights equally with the master. No 
 employer dared to deduct any portion from the wage allotted to his 
 man. 
 
 It will be seen that the determination of the wage lay ex- 
 clusively and altogether with the masters ; or, to use a modern 
 expression, capital was then far more able to oppress labour than 
 at present. Whether the masters abused their power or not, and 
 did in fact oppress the labourer, we do not know. Chronicles are 
 silent thereon. This condition of affairs did not, however, last 
 very long ; for already in the fourteenth century, the union of 
 masters in every trade found itself face to face with a union of 
 men, who sought to escape this subjection, and the relations 
 became rapidly inverted. 
 
 The unions of men were founded originally w"th the knowledge 
 and consent of the masters, and had, at first, a pious object ; the 
 members assisted one another in sickness, and attended one another 
 to the grave. The union gave weekly support to the crippled 
 artisan, and supported his widow and children. Membership 
 became compulsory. The masters highly approved these associa- 
 tions, for they kept the members under moral supervision. 
 
The Labour Question. 389 
 
 Before very long these unions became as powerful as those of 
 the trade, and, like the latter, exercised despotic control over the 
 members. They met and voted the customs of the trade — the 
 " Gesellengewohnheiten." Whoever transgressed the custom was 
 punished by a fine or by exclusion. An excluded artisan was 
 forced to leave the trade : no other artisan would associate with 
 him, even speak to him, till he had expiated his offence. The master 
 was obliged to dismiss him, as his other hands refused to work so 
 long as he was given employment. 
 
 These associations did not confine themselves to the establish- 
 ment of " customs of the trade ; " they extended their authority to 
 matters which affected, not men only, but masters as well. In 
 passing rules on the time of work, and on the mode of payment, 
 they came into conflict with the whole " Gesellenrecht." Hitherto 
 •* the masters alone had adjudicated on these matters. Now that the 
 men had discovered their power, they wanted to become the sole 
 adjudicators. 
 
 Already in the fourteenth century the " Meisterschaft " and 
 the " Gesellenschaf't " stood threateningly opposite each other ; 
 both elaborately organised ; both able to enforce absolute control 
 over their members ; both struggling for the power to determine 
 the duration of the time of work, and the manner of payment. 
 The " Meisterschaft " was able and prepared to punish every 
 master, to exclude him from the guild, that is, to cut off his means 
 of livelihood, if he transgressed its prescripts; and to refuse work 
 to every man who would not submit to its regulations. The 
 " Gesellenschaft " was able and prepared to forbid its members to 
 work for any master who did not yield to the demands of the 
 association, and to starve every workman into submission who 
 ventured into the shop of a master who had fallen under the ban 
 of the guild of artisans. 
 
 A master who wished to come to terms with his man and srive 
 him more than was prescribed by the guild of masters, daied not 
 do so; and the man who was ready to agree with his master and 
 remain in his service might not do so. The strife was not between 
 master and man, but between guild and guild. 
 
 The situation was precisely like the present, in which a com- 
 bination of employers stands opposed to a combination of opeia- 
 tives in the building, iron and coal trades. But then the masters 
 
390 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 t 
 
 gave way: step by step the union of men advanced, till they had 
 gained almost as absolute a command as had been previously 
 on joyed by the masters. But the advance was only step by 
 step both in the matter of duration of time of work and rate 
 of wage. 
 
 The half Monday was freely accorded the men by the masters 
 at a very early period, to enable the workman to do what was 
 necessaiw for himself without having to pay for getting it done, as 
 mending his clothes, his furniture, hoeing his garden, etc. This 
 was first accorded by the tailors, shoemakers, furriers, and weavers ; 
 thence it made its way into other trades, and became a custom. 
 The demand for holiday was then extended to the second half of 
 Monday. After much dissension the holiday question was thus 
 settled for a while. When no festival came in the week — and this 
 was rarely the case — then the master was bound to give a holiday , 
 on Monday, but, if a festival occurred, then the man was required 
 to work on the Monday. Thus the working week was normally 
 fixed at five days. But this did not long content the men. The 
 Monday under all circumstances they must count on as their own. 
 The masters fought hard against this. It was decided tliat if an 
 operative took two days for his pleasure during the week, the 
 master should clock him the wage for a day. The union of the men 
 opposed this in its usual way. The master who withheld the 
 wa»e lost his workmen, and could get none till he yielded. By 
 this means they carried their point. With only occasional excep- 
 tions the amount of days of work in the week was reduced to four. 
 The Reformation came to the help of the masters, by reducing the 
 number of festivals: the men kept their Mondays, but lost the 
 Saints' days. 
 
 The battle of the wage took two forms. In most trades it was 
 the law that the workman or 'prentice should live with the master, 
 and eat and drink at his table. He received his wage for the most 
 part in naturalia, only the smaller portion in money. But in some 
 trades the artisans were allowed to marry and set up separate 
 households without becoming masters in the trade. Such was the 
 case in the masons' trade, but this privilege extended to few others. 
 The reason was simple. In weaving, shoemaking, farriery, every 
 man could have a loom, a last, or an anvil. The work to be done 
 was accomplished in small portions. But it was not so with 
 
The Labour Question. 391 
 
 building. On a church, or a town-hall, many scores of men were 
 engaged, and they must be all under the direction of one master- 
 mason. Weavers might do with one or two hands, masons must 
 have at command at least a score, sometimes a hundred. It 
 was in the masons' trade alone, or almost alone, that, in the 
 Middle Ages, a business approached the proportions of modern 
 times. 
 
 Workmen living with their masters were on a much more easy 
 footing than those who paid for their own lodging and food. The 
 fluctuations in the price of firing and victuals did not affect them, 
 but the master. Hard times touched them only so far that the 
 quantitj- or quality of the food given them was reduced. They had 
 precisely as much pocket-money to spend on Sunday. Neverthe- 
 less, this portion of the wage gave occasion for as hot dispute as that 
 ■ which was paid in cash. The demands for an improved table were 
 numerous. In this case the immediate opponent of the 'prentices 
 was not the master, but the mistress^; but this did not lighten the 
 controversy. When the 'prentices and artisans felt themselves 
 aggrieved and could obtain no redress, they rose in bodies, and 
 either threatened or carried out an exodus. The quarrels about 
 victuals raged so fiercely, that the Imperial Government was 
 obliged, on more than one occasion, to intervene, and interdict 
 the artisans dictating the bill of fare to their masters and 
 mistresses. 
 
 If the sum paid in wage did not content the men, they carried 
 their point by means of a strike. It was not uncommon for 
 tumults occasioned by a contest about wage to end in blows, and 
 bloodshed, and the calling in of assistance by masters and men 
 from their associates in the neighbouring cities. 
 
 The end of all disputes in words was a strike on the part of the 
 men. They left their work, and marshalling their ranks, 
 threatened to desert the town unless their demands were complied 
 with. Sometimes they carried their threat into execution, and the 
 looms and workshops were silent and empty. Then the masters 
 sent after the men on strike, and the contest was ended by arbitra- 
 tion, or by the meeting of the masters of the guild and the heads 
 of the workmen's union, who agreed to terms, and concluded a 
 peace which they flattered themselves would be eternal. The past 
 was forgiven and forgotten. The buzz of active labour was heard 
 
392 Uo-many, Present and Past. 
 
 again, and over roast cluck and a bowl of Rhenish wine, mutual 
 goodwill was sworn. The master was generous, the grim visage 
 of the mistress relaxed, and the 'prentices were unusually active at 
 their work. The eternal peace thus sealed sometimes lasted as 
 long as ten years, but generally not so long. The old quarrel 
 broke out afresh and went through its usual round of strikes, 
 secession, recall, conference, roast duck, and reconciliation. 
 
 This was the way in which the labour question resolved itself 
 in Germany in the fourteenth century. The history of the German 
 trades offers many opportunities for tracing the growing power of 
 the men, and shows how they succeeded in organising themselves 
 and enforcing their demands far quicker and more successfully in 
 South Germany than in the North, where the guilds of masters 
 maintained longer their supremacy. In the North the guilds of 
 employers were more united with one another in the several 
 towns, and they were able to carry out, what was not attempted 
 in the South, a lock-out of hands. On several occasions the 
 masters in the towns of North Germany refused concession, shut 
 up their workshops, and closed the city gates against the ap- 
 prentices. 
 
 The reason why power left the hands of the masters, and fell 
 into those of the operatives, was that the organisation of the 
 former was relaxed ; it lost its cohesion, and fell to tatters. The 
 great political power enjoyed by the guilds had awakened the 
 jealousy of the Government. The town council, composed of 
 hereditary councillors, patricians, found that all control over the 
 city was being wrested from their hands by the guilds. The 
 "Rathe" consequently used every endeavour to break up these 
 unions. In the sixteenth century the trades were rarely able to 
 hold diets, so opposed were the rulers to allowing cities to be the 
 scenes of these gatherings, and none occurred in the seventeenth 
 century. Each town forbade the trades in it entering into associa- 
 tion with those in another town, and cut off, as far as possible, all 
 commercial dealings with one another. Everywhere the right of 
 free correspondence was forbidden. No letter might be received or 
 despatched which had not first been submitted to the Board of the 
 town council. Under such circumstances it was impossible for the 
 guilds to maintain cohesion. The masters in each town were 
 thrown a prey to their operatives : the latter could act as a 
 
 
The Labour Question. 39.S 
 
 compact Body, the former must fight as units. It is true that the 
 unions of men were subjected to the same restrictions; they might 
 only communicate with one another in other cities through the 
 Government, but the unmarried apprentice, forced by law to travel 
 from town to town to learn his trade, was able to evade the law ; 
 the married, settled master could not. The workmen's union sent 
 no letters, but forwarded orders through travelling 'prentices. 
 The law that obstructed the intercommunion of the employers, 
 facilitated that of the employed. The masters might not by letter 
 concert resistance : the men were forced to travel from town to 
 town, and the operatives in every town were therefore put in 
 daily interchange of communications with each other. The law 
 gave them a flying post : as a necessary consequence, the union of 
 operatives became doubly strong, its basis spread, it became 
 national, whilst that of the masters shrivelled within the walls of 
 each town. 
 
 The break-up of the alliance of trade-guilds accomplished the 
 same result in another way. When the trades were not associated, 
 they began to compete in one town against those in another. As 
 long as the alliance lasted, a man dismissed from work in one town 
 could not find employment in another. But directly the tie was 
 dissolved, nothing stood in the way of the discharged operative in 
 one place taking work elsewhere. The demand for men was great, 
 and the man out of place was taken into service without a question 
 being asked as to his antecedents. Indeed, so great was the 
 spirit of rivalry between the towns, that no sooner was a strike 
 on foot in one city than agents of the next were despatched to 
 seduce the men to it, in the hopes of utterly ruining the trade of 
 the first, and drawing the business from it within the walls of 
 the other. 
 
 Consequently the workmen had the game put into their hands. 
 The masters were absolutely at their mercy. It was in their 
 power to ruin one town and make another. Wherever they went 
 they were sure of being received with open arms, and of having 
 their demands granted them, however unreasonable they might be. 
 Their organisation was so complete that they could prevent any 
 man from taking work with the masters who had fallen under 
 their ban. And the misters were so helpless that they could not 
 prevent unruly operatives whom they had dismissed from being 
 
394 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 snapped np by neighbouring employers. In the fifteenth centnry 
 the trade of bottle-makers was one of the greatest and most 
 prosperous in Niirnberg. A mister of the guild sat in the town 
 council. In that century a quarrel broke out between masters and 
 men. The men in a body left the city, and carried their industry 
 elsewhere. Of three hundred bottle factories only eight survived 
 the stiike. The master of the guild resigned his place in the 
 eounoil. The trade was extinguished. The master of the silver- 
 smiths took his place. 
 
 The Thirty Years' war, the War of Succession, and finally the 
 European war of Napoleon, ruined German manufacture, the 
 doubling the Cape of Good Hope ruined its trade with the East. 
 Manufacture and commerce passed to England. 
 
 When Napoleon was consigned to St. Helena, and peace settled 
 over the exhausted Continent, trade revived in Germany, but the 
 conditions were altered. The guilds were decrepit, the unions of 
 workmen extinct; manufactures, the organisation of trade, the 
 foundations of commercial prosperity, had to be re-laid. Small 
 employers were no more. Business to succeed must be carried on 
 upon a large scale. Competition was now no longer between city 
 and cit} T , but between nation and nation. Intercourse was easy, 
 combinations were feasible, but their success problematical. A 
 new force had grown up, an international, stronger than the work- 
 men's unions, confronting them when they struggled into life 
 again — the police force. The gendarmes were no longer local 
 watchmen, appointed by the city magistrates, and with no juris- 
 diction beyond the walls, no link with the watchmen in the 
 neighbouring city. The gendarmes were now everywhere, and 
 everywhere the same, though in different uniform : the man under 
 suspicion at Berlin, on escaping to Vienna, found himself there 
 also under surveillance. If he was dismissed Breslau, he was 
 shown out of the gates of Cologne. The police looked with no 
 sympathetic eye on associations of workmen : they smelt political 
 gunpowder everywhere. The unions lost their acquired character, 
 and fell back on their original programme. They became 
 benevolent clubs. Cohesion was gone. They met with lemons in 
 their hands about the grave of an associate, and subscribed Pfennige 
 for the widow, but they no longer ventured to oppose the masters. 
 They were too eager to get work to haggle about the terms. 
 
The Labour Question. 39.3 
 
 The police did away with strikes, by forbidding compulsory 
 association. 
 
 It is only since 1848 that workmen have recovered their right 
 to unite to consider and enforce their requirements. 
 
 It will be instructive to compare the conditions under which 
 these unions exist with those strictly analogous in former times. 
 
 The power of the workmen rested on association, which was 
 compulsory, and was elaborately organised. No man could work at 
 a trade who was not a member of the union. Consequently the 
 union had absolute command over the entire body of operatives. 
 The masters could not fill the vacant places from other fields. 
 When the weavers in Augsburg struck, not a man who could toss 
 a shuttle was available throughout Germany. The Fuggers might 
 send to the shores of the Baltic, to Bohemia, to the confines of 
 Holland, but could not rake thence a man to sit at their looms. 
 Weaving was an art requiring an apprenticeship, and no one could 
 become an apprentice who was not also a union man. Con- 
 sequently the Fuggers must come to terms with their workmen : 
 there was no help for it. It is not so now. Machinery does the 
 intricate work, and no further apprenticeship is needed than one 
 of three hours, to learn how to control the mechanism. If the 
 operatives strike, others can take their places; what men did, 
 children can effect as well. I was in the train to Rouen one day, 
 and had as a fellow-traveller an English manufacturer. He told 
 me that he had owned a mill near Wakefield, but had been so 
 hampered with strikes when he had taken heavy contracts, that he 
 had migrated with his machinery to Rouen, where he could execute 
 his contracts at a cheaper rate to himself. " And," he said, " there 
 are dozens of Yorkshire and Manchester manufacturers about me 
 here in Normandy, who have migrated for the same reason. If 
 labour becomes too dear here, we shall migrate elsewhere, to Italy 
 or China." This is a consideration affecting the success of unions 
 in the present day, which did not exist in the Middle Ages. 
 Capital can flit where it likes to find cheap labour. Competition 
 is now so keen, profits are so small, on account of competition, that 
 migration is made compulsory. It must go, or die. 
 
 At Bludenz in the Voiarlberg are extensive woollen and yam 
 mills. A few years ago the looms and jennies were attended by 
 Tyrolese. But France oliered a good market for builders, Switzer- 
 
£96 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 land for waitresses. The Tyrolese men and girls found they could 
 obtain more money abroad, so struck for higher wage in the mills. 
 They were perfectly justified in doing so. The manufacturers 
 refused, and imported Italian girls and men, and now scarce a 
 native works in these factories. Capital will either follow cheap 
 labour, or will import it. The demands of the artisans were in 
 former times more readily complied with because the numbers of 
 workmen were relatively small, and there was, therefore, no 
 competition among themselves, for their number was fixed by law. 
 No master might take more than one, or, at the utmost, two. No 
 countryman could enter a trade without the consent of his lord, 
 and this he was not likely to give with readiness, as thereby he 
 h st a serf. Moreover, it was illegal for a master to employ 
 on his trade a man who had not been regularly apprenticed 
 to it; and female labour was also forbidden. Nowadays there 
 are no such restrictions. Any shifty man may turn his hand 
 to any sort of work, and women and children will compete 
 with men, and their cheaper labour will drive the men out of 
 the field. 
 
 Formerly, protection, the exclusion of foreign productions, and 
 the enormous cost of carriage, and difficulties of transport, secured 
 the market of native manufactures against competition from 
 foreign productions. The master who yielded to the demands of 
 the workmen, and added a penny to the daily wage, tacked the 
 burn on to the selling price of his goods : the consumer, not he, 
 suffered. Protection then was so close, that heavy duties were 
 levied on goods introduced from neighbouring cities. There was 
 no free trade between Ulm and Augsburg, Niirnbtrg and Eatisbon, 
 Cologne and Mainz. It is not so now. If protection is not wholly 
 done away with, there is free trade between every town in 
 Germany, and duties are not too heavy to wholly exclude foreign 
 manufactures. Sleam has introduced extraordinary facilities of 
 transport, and now not merely can one nation of Europe compete 
 with another, but one continent with another : Indian rice is 
 driving that of South Carolina out of the market ; Belgian furnaces 
 have blown out those of South Wales ; Miihlhausen cotton-spinners 
 are bringing Manchester mills to a standstill; Lyons weavers 
 have ruined the silk-looms of the Calder ; Persian carpers are 
 killing Kidderminster ; and Calif or ni an wheat beats down the 
 
The Labour Question. 307 
 
 price of home grown corn. If I want books bound, T send them 
 to Bruges; gloves, I write to Brussels; brass-work, I get it fiom 
 Antwerp ; some wine-glasses, they come from Buhemia ; a stove, I 
 order it at Aachen ; a greenhouse, the frame comes to me from 
 Droutheim ; a dish of cherries, they are grown at Sinzig ; fresh 
 meat, my butcher is in New York. 
 
 In mediaeval times a strike was unattended by risk and cost. 
 If the men did not carry their point, they were sure of getting 
 work elsewhere. They had no occasion to hiy by for expenses 
 when out of employ. If a rise in wages was refused them, they 
 flung their bundle over their backs, and wafting a kiss to the 
 master's daughter, went elsewhere. 
 
 Was klinget unci singet die Strass' herauf ? 
 Ihr Jungfrau'n, machet die Fenster auf 1 
 Es ziehet der Bursch in die Weite, 
 Sie geben ihm das Geleite. 
 
 As the modern housemaid likes to change her place continually 
 to see more of the world, and the German student to shift his 
 university every year, so the workman in the Middle Ages liked 
 to ramble from town to town, and when he had carried on his 
 flirtations in one place to a dangerous length, he escaped entangle- 
 ments by going to another, and the easiest way to get off was to 
 demand more wage, and go if it were refused. Wheiever he went 
 he was well received and helped on by his fellows. Their purses 
 were ever open to the vagabond artisan, for with what measuie 
 they meted this year, they expected to have it measured to them 
 the following: year. 
 
 Here again the modern workman is at a disadvantage. The 
 unmarried man has but himself to care for if out of work, but the 
 artisan who has w r ife and children dependent on him must con- 
 sider his family. 
 
 The union to which he belongs will allow him something durino- 
 the period of strike, but not enough to keep him in comfort, and 
 the object of strike is not now attainable as it was formerly. 
 Every workman does not belong to the union ; capital is not bound 
 to one spot; competition is wide as the world. The old monopolies 
 which favoured the artisan at the cost of the consumer are dead as 
 Herod. Trades'-unions of operatives, as they have been for some 
 
398 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 time conducted, are an organisation unsuitable for modern times — 
 a relic of medievalism, practicable only where there is protection. 
 An international society can alone meet capitalists and try conclu- 
 sions with them, but then, is it possible for such a society to 
 embrace the proletariates of the whole world ? If it is organised 
 throughout Europe and America, China and Japan will become 
 the resort of manufacturers, the emporiums of trade. In the 
 mean time much mischief may be done by using old engines against 
 modern earthworks; they are likely to explode and injure those 
 who employ them. 
 
 Trade is so delicate and subtle that it may be banished by a 
 strike. A slight rise in price made to meet. the. demands of the 
 artisans may ruin the home manufacture. Foreign goods can be 
 sold cheaper, and English goods will be no longer asked for. 
 Thereupon the whole home produce collapses. 
 
 And yet trades'- unions are an excellent institution, if not ignor- 
 antly or designingly misdirected. Nothing is better than that 
 men should live a corporate life, that they should be made to feel 
 that they are members of a bod} 7 , that they should have an organ- 
 ised society through which to make their wants and ideas known, 
 and, if necessary, enforce them. But then the masters will league 
 also, and both will face one another as natural foes, maintaining 
 peace only as truce. In the Middle Ages there was a more excellent 
 way among the so-called " great industries." In them there were 
 no separate guilds of masters and unions of workmen, but one 
 association embracing both, with a committee in which sat the 
 masters and the delegates of the men. The affairs of the trade 
 were discussed and regulated by the whole corporation, differences 
 composed by common action. In these trades, disputes between 
 masters and men rarely broke out into overt acts of hos'ility. In 
 an organisation of this sort harmony is maintained, for the interests 
 ofthetiade are understood by both parties: whereas in separate 
 organisations, each sees only one side of every question. 
 
 On the land in Germany, labour is not likely to combine, for 
 the land belongs to small holders, and few farmers can afford to 
 maintain workmen. A farm tilled by paid labour ruins the farmer. 
 It is usual for the employer to feed as well as pay his men. They 
 expect something to eat and drink every two hours. 
 
The Labour Question. 
 
 199 
 
 The average price of labour in Germany on the land is now, in 
 marks : 
 
 
 Winter. 
 
 Summer. 
 
 Average. 
 
 In Prussia .... 
 
 1-30 
 
 0-83 
 
 1 
 
 07 
 
 Puinerania 
 
 1:82 
 
 110 
 
 1 
 
 40 
 
 Posen i. . . 
 
 1-39 
 
 8-20 
 
 1 
 
 10 
 
 Brandenburg . 
 
 1-56 
 
 106 
 
 1 
 
 31 
 
 Silesia .... 
 
 0-94 
 
 071 
 
 
 82 
 
 Saxony .... 
 
 1-46 
 
 112 
 
 1 
 
 2!) 
 
 Hanover 
 
 1-72 
 
 1-34 
 
 1 
 
 53 
 
 Schleswi.of-HoLk'in 
 
 2-00 
 
 1-32 
 
 1 
 
 m 
 
 Westphalia 
 
 1-72 
 
 1-38 
 
 1 
 
 55 
 
 Rheinland 
 
 1-7S 
 
 1-38 
 
 1 
 
 58 
 
 Kingdom of Saxony 
 
 1-61 
 
 1 21 
 
 1 
 
 41 
 
 Bavaria .... 
 
 ] -55 
 
 116 
 
 1 
 
 ■35 
 
 Wiirtemberg . 
 
 1-86 
 
 1-38 
 
 1 
 
 G2 
 
 Baden .... 
 
 1-84 
 
 1-47 
 
 1 
 
 •65 
 
 Hesse-Darmstadt . 
 
 1-49 
 
 1-22 
 
 1 
 
 ■35 
 
 EIsass-Lotbringen . 
 
 207 
 
 1-64 
 
 1-85 
 
iOO Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 CHAPTEK XIII. 
 
 SOCIAL DEMOCRACY. 
 
 Be not over-exquisite 
 To cast the fashion of uncertain evils 
 
 Milton: Comus. 
 
 The attempts of Hodel and Nobiling have of late attracted extra- 
 ordinary attention to German Social Democracy. The imagination 
 of the pnhlic and the fears of Prince Bismarck have given to the 
 movement an importance which it scarcely possesses. By a repeti- 
 tion of the mistake of the Ma} r laws, the German Chancellor hopes 
 to suppress a power which he dislikes or dreads, but will instead 
 give it consistency, and exasperate it to deeds of violence. Heine 
 uaid : — 
 
 Fianzoson und Russen geliort das Land, 
 Das Meer geliort den Britten : 
 
 Wir aber fiihren im Luftreich des Traums 
 Die Herrschaft unbestiitten. 
 
 And this is true of German Social Democracy ; it is dreamland, 
 fantastic, melting away at the touch of practical life. Better let 
 the dreamer toss in sleep and clutch at air than by putting him in 
 a strait jacket and confining him in a black hole, convert him into 
 a lunatic. 
 
 If we want to know the origin of Socialism historically, we 
 must turn to the " Corpus Juris Canonici." It was the Caiholic 
 Church which first preached Communism. When she became 
 wealthy she doubted about putting her doctrine into practice, but 
 she taught it theoretically, and her monasteries were true cum- 
 
Social Democracy. 401 
 
 munistic societies. Canon Law, the flower of mediaeval science, on 
 the perfecting of wliich Theology, Jurisprudence, and Philosophy 
 laboured together during many centuries, lays down the principles 
 of Communism as plainly as Marx and Lassalle. According to the 
 Canonists, the ideal and original condition of things was and is 
 community of goods. Everything — air, light, water, the earth — is 
 common to all. God sent all his creatures into the world with 
 equal rights to life, to all that conduces to life, to the enjoyment of 
 life. 1 As every man has a right to breathe, so every man has a 
 right to eat. As the air is without an owner, but common property, 
 so the earth and its fruits. 2 St. Ambrose rejects the idea that God 
 is the author of difference in men's lots, that He gives wealth to 
 one and poverty to another.. Inequality is interference with the 
 law of God. Therefore, he says, let no man dare to call super- 
 fluities his own. Whatever is more than satisfies his needs is ap- 
 propriated by him from the common good. 3 Mine and Thine are 
 human distinctions, creations of man's unrighteousness. The Fall 
 caused the idea of property to spring into being. When the blight 
 fell on the earth through man's disobedience, and people multiplied 
 on its face, then the soil did not bring forth sufficient to satisfy all. 
 Men were forced to labour at it to increase its productive power, 
 and with labour came in rights of property. What man won by 
 his sweat was his in a special manner. Thus came in acquired 
 rights. Though in an evil world property must exist, yet in cases 
 of necessity the powers that be are justified in re-establishing 
 community of property. " Dulcissima rerum possessio communis 
 est. * 
 
 It will be seen that the Communism of the Canonists differed 
 from that of modern Socialism only by its religious basis. Theo- 
 retically, with the Canonists, poverty was the best state, that most 
 pleasing to God. Wealth, if not sinful, is ensnaring to the soul. 
 Erdmann rightly says that the extensive estates acquired by the 
 religious orders in the Middle Ages were not a contradiction in 
 practice to this doctrine, but rather an attempt to give it practical 
 
 1 Decret. Gratian. ii. c. 12. Qu. i. c. 2. 
 
 2 See Erdmann: " Ueber die National-Oekonomischen Grundsatze der 
 Kanonistischen Lehrc," in Hiklebrand, Jahrbiicher/iir Nat.-Oekon. u. Stat. Band i. 
 
 3 Decret. Gratian. i. D. 47, c. S. 
 
 4 Gloss to Gratian. i D. 1, c. 7 ; D. 47, c 8; ii. c. 12. Qu. i. c. 2. 
 
 2 n 
 
402 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 operation. In fact, the profuse charity of the Church was a carry- 
 ing out of this system. What the monastic community could not 
 consume was freely distributed among the poor. What was over 
 and above that which every man needed was the " debitum legale" 
 of Aquinas. The rich were constrained to give to the poor, not by 
 p >lice regulations, but by appeals to their consciences. It was 
 taught that it was quite as sinful to deny one's superfluity to a 
 brother in need as to rob another of his goods. 1 The motive of all 
 social activity was desire to obtain sufficient to support life, desire 
 for the umfruct. The moment activity was directed beyond this, 
 to acquisition of superfluity, then it became avarice, and was sinful. 
 The desire to have more than would maintain life was cujpidltas, 
 sinful, and to be rooted out, not restrained. 2 All activity beyond 
 what was needful for acquiring the necessaries of life is an evil. 
 " Negotium negat otium, quod malum est, neque quaerit veram 
 quietem, quae est Deus." s This was one purpose of the multiplica- 
 tion of festivals on which unnecessary work was forbidden, — to de- 
 stroy cupidity, to prevent men from devoting all their time to the 
 acquisition of wealth. It may be said that many compulsory holi- 
 days destroy the energy in a people. They certainly make them 
 more light-hearted. There can bo no question that the sweeping 
 away of holidays in France has destroyed the gaiety of the Gallic 
 peasant. Avarice is the motive of his whole life, his ruling, all- 
 pervading passion. The Bavarian or Tyrolese peasant is a far 
 more joyous being. 
 
 Canon Law was eminently hostile to trade. No man might 
 sell goods for more than what they cost him. All profit in mer- 
 chandise was robbery ; 4 whereas agriculture was praiseworthy ; 
 and indeed all manual labour was lawful — " Deo non displicet ; " 
 trade was censurable — " Deo placere non potest " Time was God's 
 gift to every man, and might not be sold. Therefore, whatever a 
 man laboured on, he laboured on for himself. If on other man's 
 land, then he and the landowner had equal rights to the fruits. If 
 a man borrowed money of another, it was enough if he repaid the 
 capital : for interest was robbery. 
 
 German Right, like Canon Law, reposed on a theory of property, 
 not without its influence on modern Socialism. German right, 
 
 1 Gratian. L D. 47, e. 8. 2 Ibid. * Gratian. i. D. 88, c. 12. 
 
 4 Gratian, ii. c. 14. Qu. 5, o. 9. 
 
Social Democracy. 403 
 
 which was driven out by Roman right in the sixteenth and seven- 
 teenth centuries, viewed property and man's i elation to the land 
 and to his fellows from altogether another standing-point from 
 Roman right. 1 According to the latter, every right starts from the 
 individual, and his boundless freedom, 2 which is only made endur- 
 able in the commonwealth by mutual curtailment of spheres in 
 which liberty may be exercised under the direction of the Siate. 
 By German law, on the other hand, Right in general was a postu- 
 late of the moral law, and like it of Divine origin — a view of right 
 which indeed stands in the preface of the " Sachsen-Spiegel," but 
 which stretches back into prae-Christian times. Every several 
 right has as its correlative an obligation. Every office entails 
 duties. Roman law regarded man as an individual, and staited 
 from this conception. German law looked first on the social body, 
 and then considered man as a member of it. Ab initio, in Roman 
 riiiht, man was dutiless towards his fellows : but in German fight, 
 before the introduction of Christianity, the basis of association laid 
 down in every community and guild was " unus subveniat alteri 
 tanquani fratri suo in utili et honesto." 3 German right was posi- 
 tive, Roman negative; the former trusted to the moral sense as its 
 executioner, the latter to the State. The former reposed on prin- 
 ciple, the latter on compulsion. In German right the expression 
 " Ehre und Treue" had not merely a moral signification, it be- 
 longed to quite a different order of ideas from the Roman " existi- 
 matio et bona fides ; " it was an essential characteristic of a citizen, 
 without which there was no participation in the rights and privi- 
 leges and duiies of citizenship. " Gut ohne Ehre ist kein Gut, und 
 Leib ohne Ehre halt man fur todt. Alle Ehre aber kommt von 
 der Treue." 4 Each step in the social scale had its special •' Ehre 
 und Treue," compacting the whole society together into an indis- 
 soluble body — an idea the reverse of the Roman abstract equality. 
 We see a relic of this doctrine in the law that exempts the man 
 who has fallen under the penal laws from military service. He 
 has lost his " Ehre und Treue," and is therefore unworthy to fight 
 
 1 See Schmidt (C. A.) : Der principelle Unterschied zwischen dem liomiscJten 
 u. Germanischen liechte, Rost. 1853; and Eoscher: Geschichte d Nation", I okonomik 
 in Deutsehland. Munchen, 1S74. 
 
 2 Leg. 4, Dig. i. 5. 3 Wilda : Strafrecht der Germanen, i. 140. 
 4 Gloss to Sachsen-Spiegel, in. 78. 
 
40 !• Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 for Fatherland. The principle that the individual is suhordinate 
 to the community still lies at the root of much local custom and 
 law. It was because the parish was bound to maintain its poor, 
 that in Bavaria it refused to allow its young men and young 
 women to marry unless they were in circumstances which made it 
 most unlikely that their children would come to the parish for 
 support. 
 
 According to Roman ideas, the Familia was the property of the 
 master : the Family included children and slaves ; and the father 
 might dispose of the children as he did of the slaves. German 
 " Familienrecht " was quite different. Every child had its rights 
 in the house, and the " Pflichttheil," the inalienable portion of the 
 goods of the father which falls to it, is in modern German law 
 a recognition of this principle. Only if the child should lose its 
 " Ehre und Treue," has it lost its right in the inheritance of its 
 parents. In Roman law property is regarded in an abstract light, 
 in German it is the medium of social and moral relations. By 
 Roman law propeity entailed no obligations. It was otherwise by 
 German law : there was no property without obligations. The 
 whole feudal system was based on this principle. God was the 
 giver of all good things, mediately, through the Emperor. Every- 
 thing was a loan, and a loan entailing responsibilities from the 
 receiver to the giver. All power was viewed as issuing from 
 above, and flowing down by a series of falls to the lowest, and 
 attached ever to the holding of land. Moveables alone were per- 
 sonal property : over them alone had a man free disposal, for they 
 alone were his own acquisition. But land entailed duties towards 
 those from whom the feof was received, and authority towards 
 those who lived upon it. The " benevolentia " of the bestower en- 
 tailed " fidelitas " on the part of the receiver. Every act which 
 made a man dishonourable, which affected his " Ehre und Treue," 
 made him incapable of holding a feof. But till a man's honour was 
 stained, and his word broken, a feof was unreclaimable. 
 
 By Roman law a man had absolute disposal of his property after 
 death. It was not so by German law. He had no power over 
 anything except his moveables. " Deus hasredem facere potest 
 non homo." 1 Wife and children claimed their portion as their 
 rights. 
 
 1 Glanvilla, vii. 1. 
 
Social Democracy. 405 
 
 The idea of corporate life which pervades German law took 
 practical forms in the Middle Ages, just as in monachism the 
 Socialist theories of Canon Law assumed a living illustration. In 
 the chapter on peasant properties I have shown the working of this 
 principle in the bauer community : it took shape also in the noble 
 and the citizen classes. 
 
 The principle of confederate or common life, the mutual depen- 
 dence of one on another, manifested as strong an influence on the 
 mediaeval nobles as on the proletariates of the present day. It is 
 quite a mistake to suppose that the castle isolated the nobleman, 
 cut him off from his fellows, and fostered independence. The 
 " Burg " expressed the social insulation of the nobility as a class, 
 not of the separate nobleman. The majority of gentry did not 
 occupy their own castles, but lived in those of the princes, as burg- 
 graves or stewards. Often a whole community of nobles united to 
 build a castle, or to buy one ; or several families together inherited 
 one castle. They lived together in the same fortress, sharing the 
 duties and dividing the profits, arranging together which should 
 be head of the general establishment, electing and voting in little 
 parliaments, and mutually arranging the laws of succession to the 
 principal rooms in the common mansion. Perhaps the most curious 
 instance was Fried berg in the Wetterau, where the large castle, 
 was the common inheritance and property of several noble families, 
 exercising together the office of burggrave over the town that lay 
 outside its walls. These " Ganerbschaften," as they were called, 
 were actual communistic aristocratic societies of the Middle Ages, 
 such as were quite unknown out of Germany. More remarkable 
 were the guilds (Ziinfte) among the citizens. In the former chapter 
 I have given some idea of these. But I must add here some further 
 particulars to show their Socialistic character. 
 
 The guilds were as important for the towns as the feudal system 
 was for the country. Both these institutions confounded religion 
 and morals with social economy, and in many of their features ex- 
 hibit themselves as the " forebears " of modern Social Democracy. 
 The guild system was as far removed from our ideas of free trade 
 as was the feudal system from modern notions of the freedom of 
 land-tenure. The right of labour was elaborated in the towns into 
 a working system. The town as a whole took the trade of the 
 town on itself as a sort of feudal tenure. The great feof's of the 
 
406 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 trades were reserved to the Rath; they gave them o-rtt as suh-feofs 
 to the free citizens. The Rath, or town council, so to speak, en- 
 feoffed the masters with tailoring, weaving, baking, shoemaking, 
 etc. : no man had a right to exercise a trade who had not been in- 
 vented with it by the town council. Trade was an office : God was 
 the source of all authority in the State, and of fill ability in trade. 
 From Him issued the feudal tenures of gaugrave, burggrave, land- 
 grave on the one hand, and the trade tenures of tailoring, weaving, 
 and shoemaking on the other. He commissioned the nobles through 
 the Emperor to administer law for the good of the commonwealth, 
 and in like manner He commissioned tailors, tinkers, and apothe- 
 caries, through the town council for the same end — the good of the 
 commonwealth. 
 
 The guilds of the trades either bought the raw material and 
 distributed it among the masters ; or it was ruled that no master 
 might buy raw material without notification to the guild. If the 
 guild thought a private master had bought too much, it took from 
 him what it held to be superfluous, and distributed it among the 
 others. No master was allowed to have more than one, or at the 
 outside two workmen. Nor might one master have more than a 
 single shop. Nothing like competition was allowed among the 
 masters. The guild which gave out the raw staff fixed the price 
 at which it was to be sold, thus determining the profits of every 
 master. He could not become richer by his trade than were the 
 other masters. 
 
 All this was upset by the introduction of Roman law, which 
 brought in the novel ideas of capital and the mobilisation of real 
 property, of free trade, and the right of every man to the free dis- 
 posal of his time and his energies. 
 
 In a century the whole system of trade in Germany has been 
 revolutionised, just as land tenure has been revolutionised, but in 
 an opposite direction. Land has been parcelled out among small 
 holders. One large farm has given place to five little holdings. 
 But in trade five small masters have been swallowed up by one 
 large manufacturer. 
 
 In a city where, under the old doctrines, there throve five hun- 
 dred master tradesmen — say weavers— with six hundred workmen, 
 each workman with an almost certain prospect before him of be- 
 coming a master himself in a few years, there are now five manu- 
 
Social Democracy. 407 
 
 facturers with twelve hundred operatives, not one of whom can 
 hope to push his way into independence. We are assisting at a 
 similar process in another branch of industry. Co-operative stores, 
 or general stores, such as those of Messrs. Whiteley, Shoolbred, 
 Tarn, etc., are taking the place of a number of small special traders. 
 That means, where fifteen or twenty small independent tradesmen 
 had their shops, there is now but one concern, and there are four- 
 teen or nineteen independent heads of firms abolished, and those 
 who would have been free men under the former state of affairs are 
 now reduced to subserviency. Imagine this cairied out on a large 
 scale, as it no doubt will be, in time, and there will be no more 
 living in independence for small grocers, linendrapers, furniture- 
 dealers, druggists etc. ; a few capitalists will have effaced them 
 from the streets of London. The commercial world is enslaving the 
 many traders just as the aristocratic world did the tillers of the soil 
 in the early Middle Ages. When this takes place, the whole 
 middle class, reduced to servitude under "immediate" princely 
 Whiteleys and Tarns and Shoolbreds, will chafe against their 
 bondage, and perhaps rise in social-economic war against the 
 omnipotence of capital in trade, just as now, and very naturally, 
 the workmen, who a few yeai's ago might have been masters, are 
 tossing and gnawing at the chain wherewith the great manu- 
 facturers hold them down The masters were the aristocracy of 
 labour. And just as the princes in Germany stamped or bought the 
 gentry out, so that they might have none between them and the 
 serfs, so are wholesale makers squeezing the small dealers out, or 
 forcing them to become salaried clerks and overlookers under them. 
 
 The guilds are no more. Free manufacture was introduced in 
 France in 1786, and in Germany every restraint upon it dis- 
 appeared in 1868. 
 
 That with the altered position of the artisans, with all hope of 
 independence cut off from them, with the remembrance of their past 
 rights lingering about their memories, they should sit down con- 
 tentedly in the fetters laid on them by an inexorable present, is not 
 to be expected. They are reduced to servitude and poverty, and a 
 few become enormously wealthy. Under the Mediasval system, the 
 profits on weaving in a certain city were divided among five 
 hundred masters. Now the profits go into the pockets of five. 
 Four hundred and ninety-five get none. 
 
408 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 The following is a classification of fortunes in Berlin, 
 1875-76:— 
 
 1 person, with an annual income of £90,000 
 
 1 
 
 »> 
 
 » 
 
 72,000 
 
 1 
 
 » 
 
 » 
 
 45,000 
 
 1 
 
 »> 
 
 >» 
 
 3G,0J0 
 
 2 
 
 >» 
 
 J> 
 
 30,000 
 
 2 
 
 » 
 
 >» 
 
 27,000 
 
 1 
 
 » 
 
 »> 
 
 24,000 
 
 3 
 
 »> 
 
 >» 
 
 21,000 
 
 7 
 
 5> 
 
 » 
 
 18,000 
 
 3 
 
 » 
 
 »» 
 
 15,000 £ 
 
 10 
 
 )» 
 
 >» 
 
 12,000 to 15,000 
 
 9 
 
 >» 
 
 »> 
 
 10,200 to 12,000 
 
 17 
 
 >» 
 
 » 
 
 8,400 to 10,200 
 
 13 
 
 » 
 
 M 
 
 7.20U to 8,400 
 
 There are consequently seventy-one persons with an income 
 over 7,O0OZ. a year. These pay income-tax to the amount of 
 31,89 lZ., i.e. more than ten per cent, of the entire income-tax, 
 313,263Z. There are 244 persons with an income of from 3,000Z. 
 to 7,200Z., and 471 persons with an income of 1,440Z. to S^OOZ. 1 
 
 The contrast between wealth and poverty is more noticed in 
 Germany than in England, because the Germans have not been 
 for two centuries accustomed to see vast wealth and squalor side 
 by side, as in England. Medievalism kept such contrasts down, 
 and it is only since the break-up of the old system that such con- 
 trasts have become possible ; and this takes place precisely at a 
 time when the reverse is going on in landed property. Land is 
 breaking up, and being more and more distributed and equalised, 
 whilst capital in trade is being withdrawn from the many and 
 amassed in the hands of the few. The contrast of the two systems 
 naturally provokes discontent among the operatives in trade, and 
 they desire to apply to capital in gold the same law that has been 
 applied to capital in clay, to mobilise money as land has been 
 mobilised. Is this wonderful ? Is it not certain that under the 
 circumstances there must be discontent in the working class? Is 
 this discontent — the natural produce of a transition state — to be 
 abolished by making the utterance of it a crime ? 
 
 Discontent was brooding when Lassalle gave it shape and 
 
 1 Annalen d. Deut. Reichs, 1875, p. 491. 
 
Social Democracy. 409 
 
 utterance. In 1851 he showed that 9o-fo per cent, of the popula- 
 tion had incomes under 251. a year, on which, on an average, five 
 persons had to be supported. According to Lengerke 10,000,000 
 of the population of Prussia have annually under 161. per annum 
 on which to maintain a family. Let us take the more recent 
 calculations of a Conservative, E. Meyer. He classifies the 
 fortunes in Prussia thus, in 1874: — 
 
 6,034,2G3 persons, or 5S5 per cent., are extremely poor. 
 
 3,520,(391 „ 341 „ have incomes from £20 to £50 
 
 478,410 „ 4-6 „ „ 50 „ 100 
 
 178,930 „ 1-7 „ „ 100 „ 200 
 
 89,293 „ 086 „ „ 200 „ 750 
 
 9,631 „ 009 „ ,, over 750. 
 
 About 92 6 of the population, according to the same authority, 
 consist of persons who do not earn three shillings a day. 
 
 In 1875 there were 6,591,559 persons exempt from taxation; 
 that is 2G-86 per cent, of the entire population, exempt because 
 their annual incomes did not amount to 20Z. This shows a con- 
 dition of distribution of property anything but satisfactory. Dr. 
 Engel, in a paper on the classification of incomes in Prussia 
 between the years 1852 and 1875 on the basis of the revemie 
 statistics, arrives at these depressing conclusions : — 
 
 1. The larger the capitals, the quicker their growth. Incomes 
 of 150Z. grow at double the rate of incomes under that figure. 
 
 2. The numbers with moderate fortunes do not show a tendency 
 to increase. On the contrary, the wealthy become more wealthy, 
 and the numher of the poor increases. 
 
 3. The years between 1870-73 — years of false commercial 
 activity — proved ruinous to small incomes, but increased the large 
 incomes. 
 
 In the year 1848, the social question first attracted interest in 
 Germany. There the political agitation was, in reality, quite as 
 truly social as political, however this fact may have been over- 
 looked by the Liberal leaders of the time. It was not long before 
 they became alarmed at the " Red Spectre," whose cap appeared 
 above the crowd clamouring for change, and they hastened to give 
 their support to the Government to bring about a reaction, and 
 thereby, as was soon apparent, to forfeit their credit with the 
 multitude. 
 
-ilO Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 Mnny German men of letters, L. Stein, Eodbertus, Marx, 
 Lassalle, Engcl, Mario, and others, then began to study the social 
 question with earnestness, and they gave to Socialism, by their 
 labours, a firm scientific, or, at all events, theoretical position. 
 
 The social question received its solution in one way, the liberal, 
 by Schulze-Delitzsch ; iu a reactionary way by Lassalle and Marx. 
 
 Granted that the present condition is an unhappy one, it is 
 obvious that there are only two ways in which it may be remedied 
 — either we must allow trade and commerce its fullest possible 
 development, make it cosmopolitan, or we must restrict trade and 
 bolster up national prosperity at the expense of other countries. 
 Free trade is not yet universal, and till it has become universal, 
 the present state of labour is unsettled. The Liberal programme 
 is the abolition of all impediments to free trade, to competition, to 
 the mobilisation of labour. The general welfare of the world 
 must be con. idered above that of a class. The poor starved under 
 the old corn laws that the farmers might grow rich. The importa- 
 tion of foreign corn was made free of duty : the poor ate and were 
 s.tisfied, and the farmers found to their great surprise that they 
 were not ruined. What is true of the corn laws is true of all pro- 
 tection. It rests on a false principle. It is artificial not natural, 
 mediaeval not modern. Every railway and steamboat punctures 
 the skin of protection, and makes patching and plastering every 
 day more difficult and hopele-s. In former times one town stood 
 in rivalry with another town; now they interchange their pro- 
 ducts, and both thrive on the interchange. Nations were and are 
 paited by protective tariffs. The time must come when these will 
 fall, and then the present social and financial anai'chy will right 
 itself. A worthy old relative of mine was wont to bless God in 
 his evening prayers that he had been born a Devonshire man, and 
 not in the wastes of Wiltshire and Berkshire, or even in that ash- 
 pit London. But then he had never travelled out of the West 
 country. National prejudice will go in time with county 
 particularism ; men will not bless God that they are Englishmen 
 rather than Germans or Swiss, but that they are Europeans; and, 
 lastly, Continental isolation will dissolve into universal humanity. 
 That is what increased facilities of locomotion and coniiminication 
 are daily bringing nearer. Liberal legislation is a more or less 
 conscious recognition of the tendency of the time : it makes the 
 
Social Democracy. 411 
 
 welfare of humanity its aim, rather than the tinkering up of 
 nationality. 
 
 In the agitation about the Eastern question, this truth conies 
 out prominently enough. The English Liberal party — at all events 
 that portion which accepts Mr. Gladstone as its head, looked to the 
 general interests of humanity as of paramount importance, as en- 
 listed against Turkish misrule. Away with misrule, and a vast 
 region, now contributing nothing or next to nothing to the sum of 
 the requirements of the multitudes on the face of the earth, will be 
 full of activity, and yield corn, and wine, and metals in abundance. 
 Every improvement in the condition of one body of human beings 
 conduces to the welfare of the entire ma^s of humanity. 
 
 Thrace, Bulgaria, Asia Minor are the chilblains in the body 
 politic; there is constant itch, because circulation is arrested. 
 Restore, through commercial veins and arteries, the current of 
 trade, and the whole of humanity will flourish the more abundantly 
 for it. 
 
 The Liberal doctrine is the true outcome of Roman law. It 
 reposes on individual freedom, and free disposal of capital. It 
 starts from the unit, which it endows with liberty and mobility. 
 What, the Reformation was in the sphere of religion, that Liberalism 
 is in the sphere of political economy. 
 
 Herr Schulze-Delitzsch is the representative of German Liberal- 
 ism — the most remarkable exponent of the principles of the Pro- 
 gress party (Fortschrittpartei). He was born at Delitzsch, in Saxony, 
 in 1803, and appointed District Judge at Wreschen in 1850; but re- 
 signed the office two years after, that he might devote lrmself wholly 
 to the solution of the social question. His solution is very simple. 
 
 1. Free trade, free manufacture, and free mobilisation of labour. 
 
 2. The elevation of the masses by education. 
 
 3. The formation of unions of artisans. 
 
 Freedom of manufacture is granted already. Any man, with- 
 out belonging to a guild, may start in any trade he likes. 
 
 Free circulation of labour is interfered with by military con- 
 scription. A German workman cannot follow trade in its migra- 
 tions, because he is tied to his Fatherland by military duties. This 
 must tell seriously on his well-being. As over 700,000 men are 
 withdrawn annually from trade for army and navy, there is less 
 competition of labour, and consequently a rise in the wage. Coal 
 
412 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 is dear in Germany, and competition with England can only be 
 maintained when labour is cheap. Military service would kill 
 German manufacture, but that a preventive duty is put on foreign 
 manufactured goods. Thus an artificial life is given to German 
 manufacture. One evil breeds another. Because labour is held 
 down to the soil, and prevented from seeking a market, free trade 
 becomes impossible. 
 
 The other points in the Schulze-Delitzsch programme need not 
 detain us. Government has taken the education of the people into 
 its own hands. The unions proposed, and partly carried out by 
 Schnlze-Delitzch, are co-operative associations, savings' banks, and 
 partnership-companies of artisans carrying on manufacture. The 
 co-operative stores have not proved very successful. That at 
 Mannheim has failed for 35,000 Mks. ; that at Freiburg for 7,000 
 Mks. Those at Metz and Mainz have also been liquidated. 
 
 The productive associations have never come to anything for 
 want of capital on which to start. 
 
 It is evident that these schemes are mitigations only of the 
 prevailing distress, but that they do not, and are not intended to, 
 tuuch the root of the disorder. This can only be effected by .the 
 complete carrying out of the first article of the programme — the 
 throwing open of the ports to foreign competition, and the letting 
 of labour loose to follow trade to its centres, and move with it as it 
 migrates. 
 
 Lassalle's system is the reverse of this at every point. As 
 Schulze-Delitzsch represents the theory of Eoman right, Lassalle 
 is the modern exponent and advocate of the theory of German 
 mediaeval right. Schulze is progressive, Lassalle retrograde. The 
 two stand to one another as the poles. Prince Bismai-ck never 
 made a more stupid, if not wilful blunder, than when he en- 
 deavoured to make the Liberal party responsible for the crimes and 
 follies attributed to Social Democracy. Social Democracy has far 
 more in common with Conservatism than with Progress. The 
 Romantic School attempted to revive the aristocracy by throwing 
 a halo over the chivalry of the Middle Ages. The Socialists are 
 the Romantic School of the working class, and Lassalle is their 
 De la Motte Fouque. Both attempted impossibilities. Chivalry 
 is not to be galvanised into life again. Trade protection is dead 
 irretrievably. We must let the modern torrent flow. It is be- 
 
Social Democracy. 413 
 
 cause we try to arrest it with piles that we produce disastrous 
 floods. No doubt we are living in the midst of a great social 
 problem, because new agencies are at work disintegrating society 
 and building it up in new masses. We cannot solve these pro- 
 blems with foregone conclusions, but must let them work them- 
 selves out. 
 
 Ferdinand Lassalle was a Jew, born at Breslau in 1825. His 
 father wished him to be a merchant, but he declined to devote him- 
 self to commerce, having a strong taste for philosophy and law. 
 He was in Berlin during the Eevolution in 1848, and took consider- 
 able part in it. In Berlin he made the acquaintance of the 
 Countess Hatzfeldt, a lady of forty, but still very beautiful. She 
 was engaged in an action for separation from her husband. Lassalle 
 challenged the Count, but the latter turned " the stupid Juwling " 
 out of his bouse. He then went with the Countess to Diisseldorf, 
 and lived with her in the most intimate relations till his death. 
 For eight years he fought her battles from court to court, figuring 
 before the world as the champion of wronged innocence, the dis- 
 interested protector of the oppressed, whilst all the while he was 
 feathering his own nest. He would not undertake the champion- 
 ship till he had wrung a contract for a handsome annuity fiom the 
 Countess. He obtained for the lady a princely provision, and 
 sponged upon her to the end of his days. Whilst setting himself 
 up as the opponent of wealth, the advocate of equalisation of for- 
 tunes, he lived himself in epicurean luxury, was a fop, a gourmand, 
 and licentious. 1 But he was brilliant, clever, and of extraordinary 
 fertility of resource. His popularity in society was wonderful. 
 " I can't help liking you," Heine had said to him in Paris ; and the 
 circle of friends who gathered round Varnhagen von Ense in Berlin 
 had all the same feeling towards him. But whilst he was charm- 
 ing society, and working hard at law, he suddenly amazed the 
 scholastic world with a critical treatise on Heraclitus. 2 There 
 seemed no limit to his powers and interests. The unhappy Sophie 
 
 1 See Eine Liebes- Episode aus dem Leben Ferdinand Lassalle's. Leipzig. 
 The Social Democratic press have endeavoured to dispute the authenticity of the 
 letters therein contained. But of their genuineness there can really be no 
 question. 
 
 2 " A masterly treatise on an author he had not read," is the judgment I have 
 heard passed on it. 
 
414- Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 von ITatzfeldt stood as his bad angel at hie side, directing his ener- 
 gies into perverse currents. She had the rare self-control of Livia, 
 the wife of Augustus. She was not, or did not show herself, 
 jealous of the infidelities of her lover and advocate. The fasci- 
 nating and intelligent face of Lassalle made him a favourite with 
 women: his love adventures form a chronique scandaleuse. On the 
 occasion of one of these he was attacked by a rival with fury in the 
 Thiergarten at Berlin, and defended himself with such valour, that 
 t'ie historian Forster made him a present of Robespierre's walking- 
 stick, which he ever after bore. 
 
 The end of Lassalle was tragic. When he was reading one day 
 at the Kaltbad, half-way up the Eigi, where he and the Countess 
 Hatzfeldt were staying together, a young lady with a party of 
 friends begged to be escorted to the summit. She turned out to be 
 an old acquaintance, and Lassalle was delighted to assent. The 
 young lady and Lassalle were soon desperately in love with one 
 another. Lassalle was a Jew, the lady a Catholic, and so religious 
 difficulties stood in the way of their marriage. Las-alle offered to 
 give up everything, urged her to take refuge with the Bishop 
 of Mainz, and wrote to him offering to become a Catholic, if he 
 would marry him to the lady. Presently, however, he discovered 
 that her father was Protestant. Immediately he pitched the 
 Bishop and Catholicism overboard, and was ready to embrace 
 Protestantism, if that were required. But in the meantime the 
 3-oung lady had grown cold. She was already engaged to the 
 Wallachian Bojar, Baconitza, and she probably considered her 
 prospects as a lady of rank in Austria promised better than as 
 the wife of a Jew agitator, whose life was disreputable, however 
 brilliant his genius. Lassalle, furious at his rejection, challenged 
 the more fortunate lover, and was shot in a duel near Geneva, 
 August 31, 186-t. 1 
 
 That Lassalle was a man of marvellous talents is unques- 
 tionable. But that he was sincere in his convictions may well 
 be questioned. He loved glitter, applause, display, and cared 
 little how he won it. In all this he stands in marked contrast 
 to his less brilliant rival in the same field, Karl Marx, a man who 
 was ready to suffer and make sacrifices for his creed. 
 
 1 See Bernhard Becker : Enthiillung iiber das tragische Lebensende Ferd. 
 Lassalle's Schleiz, 1868. 
 

 
 Social Democracy. 
 
 The, system of social economy of LassaUe was better than the 
 man. Jt was consistent. It was based on truths and principles. 
 Tie laid down lucidly the fundamental axioms of Socialism, and 
 exhibited its radical antagonism to Liberalism. He repudiated 
 altogether Liberal atomism, the doctrine that all social and 
 political economy must start from the individual enjoying the 
 plenitude of his liberty as the perfection of his existence. 
 "Liberalism," he said, "regards men in modern society as in- 
 sulated Robinson Crusoes." 
 
 In opposition to the duty of self-help as preached by Schulze, 
 and the throwing of every man back on his own resources, Lassalle 
 proclaimed the social bo ly as the unit, solidarity as the principle 
 of social well-being. "All historic development from the begin- 
 ning has proceeded from the community, and without that no 
 culture would have existed." " The entire old world, and the 
 Middle Ages up to the French Revolution of 1789, sought human 
 solidarity or community in union or in subjection. The French 
 Revolution of 1789 and the period influenced by it, indignant at 
 this bondage, sought freedom in the dissolution of all solidai'ity 
 and community. What was won was not Freedom, but Wilful- 
 ness. The present age — at least the fourth estate — seeks freedom 
 in solidarity. This in a few lines is the social history of the past 
 and present. 
 
 " From a legal point of view, individual responsibility is an 
 unconditional principle. And so it must be, for in the matter 
 of right and wrong each man is responsible for his own acts. 
 But in the economic sphere this is not so. On the contrary, every 
 man is responsible for what he has not done. If, for instance, 
 this year the currant harvest in Corinth and Smyrna, or the wheat 
 harvest in the Mississippi valley, on the Lower Danube, or in the 
 Crimea, be very abundant, then the currant-dealers and contractors 
 in Berlin and Cologne, who had filled their stores at the prices 
 last year, lose half their fortunes. If, on the other hand, our 
 German harvest is bad, then this year the labourers lose ,half 
 their wage, which indeed remains the same nominally, but has 
 less buying power, as the prices of necessaries have risen. If, on 
 the contrary, our harvest be good, then it happens to us, as was 
 naively and sadly expressed by the King of France, in his address 
 to the Chamber of Deputies on November 30, 1821, ' the laws are 
 
416 Germany, Present and Pad. 
 
 in full force, but no law can alter the inconveniences winch arise 
 from excessive harvests' — that is, the fall of prices, and therewith 
 distress among farmers in years of abundance. If the cotton crop 
 fails in the Southern States, then the mill-hands in the English, 
 French, and German cotton-factories are thrown out of work and 
 bread. But if, in place of a bad cotton harvest in America, there 
 be an industrial, or money crisis, then all who have stores of cotton 
 sell at what they can realise, the market is glutted, and the silk 
 and velvet manufactories in Crefeld, Elberfeld, and Lyons are 
 brought to a standstill, as there come in no orders. Newly opened 
 mines rich in silver cause -a depreciation in the currency, and 
 manufacturers cannot execute their contracts, save at a loss. All 
 creditors are made poorer and all debtors richer. On the other 
 hand, a demand for silver in China and Japan reverses tLeS) con- 
 ditions. The telegraphic notice that the rape-crop in Holland 
 promises to be better than the year before brings the oil-millers 
 in Prussia to the brink of ruin. They gain nothing by their 
 industrial activity, and are thankful if they can sell the oil they 
 have made for the bare price of the uncrushed rape-seed. Every 
 new mechanical invention which reduces the cost of manufacture 
 causes the depreciation of gooils already made, and often deprives 
 whole lots of dealers and contractors of the means of existence. 1 
 A new railway alters at once the values of houses and gardens and 
 fields near the station, and relatively depreciates those furthest 
 away from the line. These illustrations, which might be multi- 
 plied indefinitely, show how true it is, that in the sphere of social 
 economy the reverse principle to that in jurisprudence holds — 
 every man is responsible, not for what he has done, but for what 
 he has not clone. And the reason is simple. In the sphere of right 
 every act is the product of the individual will. Responsibility 
 depends on freedom. Where freedom ends, there ends responsi- 
 bility also. 
 
 " Human community and solidarity may be misunderstood and 
 disavowed, but it cannot be done away with. If therefore 
 there be social edifices which do not take cognisance of this, 
 so much the worse for them. It exists, but through want of 
 recognition is converted, by a wild avenging natural force, into 
 
 1 As, for instance, the invention of adhesive envelopes, which at once ruined 
 Ihe manufacturers of sealing-wax. 
 
Social Democracy. 417 
 
 chance, which plays at ball with the destinies and liberties of 
 individuals. One is tossed aloft in this game by the misunderstood 
 and uncontrolled forces at work below, and falls into the lap of 
 wealth; and hundreds are plunged in the slough of poverty, and 
 the wheel of social progress goes over them, crushing them and all 
 their industry, and the fruits of their toil, into powder. Chance 
 plays ball, and men are the balls with which it plays. 
 
 " Now when chance rules, the freedom of the individual is no 
 more. Chance is the repeal of self-responsibilit} r and self-determi- 
 nation. The object we seek is the limitation of the caprices of 
 chance, by restoring a general equilibrium of responsibility, by 
 subjecting every shoulder to that weight which misses some and 
 crushes others. We seek to enthrone a rational direction of the 
 natural forces in the social world in the place of wild caprice, to 
 recognise common obligation and universal solidarity, and there- 
 with to bring back self-responsibility, self-determination, and 
 individual freedom. What is now an undisciplined natural force 
 will be controlled and expropriated by community of interests. 
 The social union is the old Orphic chain, of which the Orphics 
 said that it bound all existences together with infrangible links. 
 
 "Only those are admitted to the great game of luck that is 
 going on in the mercantile world, who can sell products on their 
 own account, who have command of capital, and are able to pro- 
 duce or accumulate these products in great quantities, so that they 
 may seize on favourable opportunities the moment they offer. The 
 whole artisan class is excluded from the game, from every chance 
 of getting the pool, for the artisan can never sell the products of 
 his toil on his own account; so also is the tradesman more or le.-s 
 shut out, for wholesale manufacture is cutting away and diverting 
 from him all the sources of his living, and driving him clown into 
 the position of a hireling. He has not the capital to invest the 
 moment a fortunate conjuncture of affairs offers, but while he is 
 making ready, gathering together his little outstanding debts, 
 another steppeth down before him, and obtains all the advantages 
 of the plunge. Unable to avail himself of propitious circumstances, 
 disadvantageous circumstances crush him inexorably. The class 
 of artisans and small tradesmen form a social division in our com- 
 munity, over which might be inscribed the legend that stood upon 
 Dante's ' Hell : ' ' Who enters here, leaves hope behind.' As a 
 
 2 E 
 
418 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 rule, the artisan class scarcely and only transitorily feels the 
 passing effect of a wave of commercial prosperity ; whereas 
 depression in trade makes itself felt in it instantaneously. Wage 
 is diminished, the artisan begins to consume his savings, and he 
 has perhaps to pay with entire deprivation of work and loss of 
 wage for some reckless speculation or fatal calculation of his 
 master, in which he was not consulted, and in the profits of which, 
 had it succeeded, he would not have shared." 
 
 Such is Lassalle's statement of the social question. Let us 
 now see what are the remedies that he proposes. 
 
 " Modern association of labour is not self-reliant activity, but a 
 concentration of a great many activities on one product. Whole- 
 sale production is indeed common and co-operative, but distribution 
 of the profits is not common, but individual. 
 
 " The subdivision of labour is the fountain of wealth. It is an 
 economic law, which may be almost classed as a natural law, like 
 gravitation, the expansion of steam, etc., to be called perhaps a 
 social-natural law, that the more labour is subdivided the more 
 profitable the labour becomes, and the cheaper becomes the pro- 
 duction. But it is a law that has been taken advantage of by a 
 few individuals to their individual profit, who have wound the 
 dazed and withering populace round and round, and in and out, 
 with invisible threads, into an inextricable tangle, where they are 
 held fast, whilst these few suck the blood of profit to themselves, 
 and cast to their tools only refuse — enough to keep them alive; 
 just what on the lowest stage of life, before all culture, the savage 
 obtained — the bare necessaries of existence. 
 
 "There is no question nowadays about the abolition of sub- 
 division of labour; all we require is that capital should be reduced 
 to its proper function, to be the dead tool in the hand, not the 
 master enslaving. We have no thought of doing away with 
 subdivision of labour ; on the contrary, we desire to extend and 
 develop the principle. Division of labour is common labour, 
 common union for production. Let this remain so. But what is 
 required is that the individual gains in the common production 
 should not be alienated from the worker, to the profit of the manu- 
 facturer. The work is common, and the gains should be common ; 
 the profit shared by all, as the work is shared by all, in proportion 
 to their share in the work and activity in the discharge of it." 
 
Social Democracy. 41 U 
 
 The ideal state of the world is one in which all work will be 
 co-operative ; when trade will be brought back to the proportions 
 and conditions of the Middle Ages. 
 
 Such a state of things cannot come about in a day. Till it 
 does, Lassalle asked the Government to advance capital to associa- 
 tions of artisans on this principle. He demanded of the State a 
 hundred millions of- thalers for the starting of a co-operative 
 partnership factory. Small undertakings on this system would 
 not succeed, he argued, they would be squeezed out of existence by 
 those on a larger scale. " Nothing would be easier," he said, " than 
 for free competition to crush down a handful of associated artisans. 
 Economic questions can only be solved in the gross, never in retail. 
 As the great battalions on the field, so are the masses of workmen, 
 or the great capitalists, and it is the masses which prove decisive 
 of victory on the economic battle-fields. Precisely for this reason, 
 free competition, which is now strangling the artisan, may be 
 turned to his advantage. But to do this, the great battalions must 
 be on the side of the workmen. And this can alone be achieved 
 by the State, which in the economic field, as on the battle-field, is 
 the only power whinh can set the battalions in motion and assure 
 them the victory." 
 
 The same system should be applied to the land. Till the 
 whole of the land could be brought under co-operative cultivation, 
 he would have the Crown give up its " domains, or enable by 
 loans large bodies of workmen to buy up the estates of im- 
 poverished landowners." 
 
 It is true, these undertakings would be small, but Lassalle was 
 convinced, or pretended to be convinced, that they would be the 
 mustard- seeds of a new era of social economy, which would in time 
 overshadow the whole earth. 
 
 Such was Lassalle's system, clear, coherent, and practical if not 
 practicable. The Prussian Government could hardly have better 
 spent some of the milliards it wrung from France than by giving 
 the disaffected workmen an opportunity of testing it. 
 
 The next great leader of Social Democracy is Karl Marx, born 
 at Treves in 1818, of a Jewish father. He studied in Berlin and 
 Bonn, and became editor of the Bheinische Zeitung. Although 
 he was son-in-law of the Minister von Westfalen, and his talents 
 and connection combined to assure him a brilliant career, he 
 
420 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 turned from it, s'rong in principle, governed by his political and 
 social convictions, that he might devote his life to the great 
 question which had taken hold of his mind. Banished from 
 German}' and France, he took refuge in London. In 1859 he 
 published his first tirade against capital. In this work he showed 
 that in the earlier history of the wordd, work alone was productive, 
 and that capital was nowhere, but that noAv it was sovereign, and 
 enchained labour. His great book on " Capital " was begun in 
 1867, when the first volume appeared. It is not .yet complete. 
 His style is obscure; imbued with Hegelianism, he imitates his 
 master in wordiness and cloudiness of expression. According to 
 him, the common labour at production is the measure of its market 
 vahie and the source of all property. No man has a right over 
 that on which he has expended no labour. Property is the pro- 
 duce of labour ; when it is not, it is the spoliation of another. 
 Capital is accumulated labour, — it is more, it is the accumulation 
 of the labour of others. In the old world, the slave, in Mediaeval 
 times the serf, worked for his master, who lived, ate, drank, clothed 
 himself on the fruit of the bondman's toil. He gave the serf or 
 slave enough to keep him alive, but all the profit that came from 
 his work accrued to the lord. Then the storm of the French 
 Revolution burst. Serfdom, guilds, all the old feudal and pro- 
 tective machinery of the Middle Ages was broken to pieces. Free 
 competition appeared. Labour was proclaimed emancipated, and 
 great was the jubilation. But no real alteration was made. Still 
 the labourer worked, and his profits went into the pockets of others, 
 not now of the noble, but of the capitalist, the less respected 
 bourgeois. He could no more lay by than before : he reaped the 
 fields, winnowed the wheat, wove at the loom, and the profits went 
 from him. It was still with him as before, a hopeless " sic vos non 
 
 vobis " " Eigenthum," said Lassalle, "ist Fremdthum," or, as 
 
 Proudhon put it, " la propriety, c'est le vol." 
 
 Capital is a sponge which sucks up all profits of labour, and all 
 the sweat of labour, and leaves the labourer nothing but bare 
 necessaries. And the more capital grows the greater is its power 
 of suction, the wider the area which it exhausts. The artisan is 
 smothered by the produce of his own hands. His work of yesterday 
 rises up before him and beats him down, and plunders him of his 
 wage to-day. The more the artisan has produced since 1789, the 
 
Social Democracy. 421 
 
 more he has enriched the manufacturer, increased the capital which 
 is crushing him ; the more labour is subdivided, the stronger be- 
 comes the chain which binds him. Hitherto, says Marx, history 
 has shown us the expropriation of the workman. Time will bring 
 about its revenge. The next to be expropriated will be the 
 capitalist. 
 
 Great capitalists are continually killing small capitalists. In 
 time, there will exist only a few magnates of capital face to face 
 with a huge enslaved population. As the wealth of these few 
 grows in geometric progression, so will the general mass of misery, 
 depression, degradation, slavery, and exspoliation ; but so also will 
 grow the sense of rage and exasperation of an organized and united 
 class of artisans. The situation will become unendurable. There 
 will be an explosion in society. The hour of the capitalist will 
 have struck. The expropriator will be himself expropriated. 
 
 Private accumulated capital is the negation of private property 
 earned by labour. By an inevitable process it is leading to its 
 own negation. Private property will recover, its legitimate posi- 
 tion as the produce of each man's toil. The plunder taken from 
 the masses will be redistributed among them. The reign of the 
 usurpers will be at an end. 
 
 Marx expects no alteration in the structure of society at pre- 
 sent ; he looks to the rapid development of capital till it becomes 
 unendurable. Lassalle looked to a peaceable solution to the 
 question, Marx to a violent one. Marx and the present Socialists 
 lay, naturally, no stress upon co-operative societies, care not for 
 co partnerships such as Lassalle proposed. 
 
 These cold ways, 
 That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous 
 Where the disease is violent. 
 
 Coriol. act iii. sc. 1. 
 
 All means for ameliorating the condition of the workmen stave off 
 the day of restitution of all things, give the present social order 
 a longer spell of life. The great demand they make that labour 
 may receive all it earns cannot be carried out without an universal 
 revolution ; and, therefore, the worse things go now, so much the 
 abetter, the sooner the cataclysm. 
 
 If we inquire how the ideal of Socialism is to be carried into 
 effect, we are told that all production will be carried on by the 
 
422 Germany, Present and Pad. 
 
 State. The State now monopolises the telegraphs, tho railways, 
 the post-office, the sugar-culture, the salt-mines, and proposes to 
 monopolise tobacco-growing. Let it in like manner monopuli.se 
 every trade, let it embrace in itself tinkering, tailoring, baking, 
 butchering, and distribute — the tin to the tinker, to others the 
 cloth to make into suits, to others the flour to knead into bread, 
 and to others the oxen to cut up for meat. Let.it do more ; let it 
 work all the mines, rear the sheep, grow the corn and pasture the 
 oxen. As it has now a navy for warlike purposes, let it have also 
 a navy for commercial purposes, and bring to Germany coffee and 
 currants. Let it grow the malt, and brew the beer, and distribute 
 it in Government taverns by the hands of State-paid Kellnerins. 
 Is this impracticable? Experience proves that it is not. In the 
 villages it is still customary for the " Gemeinde" to find the wood 
 and stone and lime, and pay the carpenters and masons by the day. 
 In the towns, the actors, sweeps, and cesspool-emp tiers are town 
 officials, why not also the bakers and brewers ? " Now, a manu- 
 facturer," sa} T s Lassalle, " can do what no feudal lord could achieve, 
 he can convert the sweat drop of the workman into a fountain of 
 fresh sweat for the man, and into a thaler for himself." This must 
 be done away with. All private capital, so far as it is productive 
 capital, i.e. landed property, factories, machinery, &c., and all that 
 serves for the production of more wealth, must be abolished, as 
 individual propert} 7 , and pass over to the possession of the common- 
 wealth. But not superfluity of money so far as it is left unproductive. 
 For instance, if a man has a 1,000Z., he may spend it in eating, 
 drinking, hearing the opera, buying pictures, going to the moun- 
 tains for " Sommerfrische," but must not expend it in buying a 
 new loom, or invest it in anything which will bring a per-centage. 
 It will be seen that Marx is as rigid a disciple of old Catholic 
 Canon Law doctrines as Lassalle was of German trade doctrines ; 
 and that both are reactionary, and diametrically opposed to the 
 Liberal theories of Schulze-Delitzsch and the Fortschritt party. 
 
 Ultiamontanists are never weary of extolling the Middle Ages 
 as the period of ideal prosperity. The Socialists desire to reproduce 
 that ideal on the same lines in modern times, with but one omis- 
 sion — that of Religion. 
 
 It is, however, altogether a mistake to regard Socialism as anti- 
 Christian. It is anew-Christian only. It may be said to realise 
 
Social Democracy. 423 
 
 the ideal programme of Catholicity ; and the Roman Church would 
 certainly be glad to come to terms with it were there any prospect 
 of its ultimate success. That Jesuits have coquetted with Social 
 Democracy is no secret. The Roman Church has now nothing to 
 lose by a revolution in the political and social worlds. The clergy 
 live up to the programme of Socialism. They have now no chance 
 of hoarding capital. In Ca^sarism the Papacy meets with a mighty 
 foe : in a State founded on Socialist principles, it would be 
 supreme. 
 
 Professor Treischke has taunted the Socialists with their god- 
 lessness. Herr Most and other stump orators of his calibre have 
 given occasion to su h charges, but anti-Christian they are not. 
 " We avoid especially everything which may offend religious 
 feeling," writes the author of the " Socialistische Replik " to Heir 
 Treischke r " we leave every man free to the exercise of his faith ; 
 only there do we fight against religion when we find it in conscious 
 falsehood labouring to stultify the people. We have far more 
 respect for the faith of our childish years than you, and will never 
 endure that it be made part of the calculations of the brutal and 
 egoistical politics of the wealthy classes, and be desecrated by such 
 usage. Name to me a single Socialist writing, in which you can 
 find such disgusting, such unseemly scoffs at the foundations of the 
 Christian religion, as are produced by your special colleague in 
 historical legerdemain and deification of Bismarck, Herr Johannes 
 Scherr ! " 
 
 It is false also that Socialism preaches community of goods, 
 the abolition of property. It preaches only community of profits, 
 and the abolition of capital as a productive agent. "How would 
 you define Socialism, Herr Schulze?" asks Lassalle. "Thus, no 
 doubt : The parcelling of property by society. But do you not see 
 that this is precisely the process now in full vigour? Precisely 
 now, under the make-believe of individual production, is chance 
 engaged in distributing fortunes capriciously among the social 
 units. Social distribution goes on daily, but in an anarchical 
 fashion. And it is this anarchical distribution which creates 
 commercial property. What Socialism asks is, not to abolish 
 property, but to make it individual property, won by labour. 
 
 " We are quite ready to allow already accumulated capital to 
 remain intact : its accumulation has been justified by the laws which 
 
42-4 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 allowed it, but we are free to dispose of the capital of the future, 
 the accumulation of which in a few hands we will not allow, but 
 distribute it among the workers." 
 
 The charge that Socialism seeks the destruction of right of 
 inheritance is also false. Not a single Socialist has proposed tliis. 
 In the Middle Ages a man had always free disposal of the personal 
 property he had acquired (Erworhenes) ; real property he could not 
 devise ; but real property will have ceased to exist when the 
 Socialist programme is carried out. So far from the right of 
 inheritance being threatened, it will be sttengthened by intensi- 
 fication of the idea of the solidarity of the Family. Abrogation 
 of right of inheritance would be too deep a wounding of the sense 
 of family union for a Socialist agitator to obtain much sympathy 
 were he to piopose it. Moreover, the right of free disposal of 
 property, if done away with, would destroy one of the strongest 
 incentives to economy and activity — an incentive which Socialism 
 has every reason to desire to stimulate, as conducive to the general 
 good. The'accumulation of property will be allowed to any extent, 
 to be sjient for enjoyment, for protection of the arts, etc., but not 
 for the purpose of speculation. Labour may earn what it can, and 
 save up, from generation to generation, but money must not be 
 endowed with the power of generation. It is dead, and must 
 remain dead. 
 
 It is false, altogether false, that Socialism has advocated " free 
 love." There have been, indeed, demagogues and fanatics hitching 
 themselves on to the skirts of Socialism, who have broached this 
 offensive doctrine, but they have been promptly disavowed by the 
 recognised leaders of the party. The Socialist view of marriage 
 is precisely that of the Christian Church. The Socialist programme 
 leaves marriage intact as a sacred institution. " We recognise and 
 prize," writes the above-quoted opponent of Herr Treischke, " the 
 moral might of marriage higher than do you, and it is on this 
 ground that we are such implacable foes to the modern constitution 
 of society. For this reason you are absolutely without excuse 
 when 30U charge us with polygamous tendencies. If you want 
 to play marriage as a trump card against us, you must let us see 
 more respect for it in your modern society, and not, what is every- 
 where apparent in it, moral decay." " Have you ever run your 
 eye through the saddest chapter of the Social Question, the chapter 
 
Social Democracy. 4:25 
 
 of female and child labour ? Are you not aware that it is the 
 reckless, remorseless making a profit out of our women, on whom 
 the future of our people depends, which is one of the mainsprings 
 of the wealth of your ' natural aristocracy,' one of the most 
 powerful means of holding down the artisan class on the lowest 
 social level ? If the physical and moral dangers which naturally 
 issue from these conditions have not radically ruined modern 
 cultured races, you have only the artisans to thank, who will not 
 shrink from the greatest sacrifices to preserve the honour of their 
 wives and daughters. But when the last physical and moral check 
 fails, which the family provides — when the work- girl, armed only 
 with her bare hands, is brought into the market of your boastful 
 society, what, I ask, is the fate in store for her? What is the 
 economic regulator which makes all the difference between the 
 highest pay and the poorest remuneration, scarce enough to keep 
 body and soul together? It is — Professor ! — it is your 'free love' 
 and 'community of women' in its most loathsome and degrading- 
 form. The whole range of female activity, from the ballet-dancer 
 to the humblest mill-girl, is open on the market to your ' natural 
 aristocracy;' bidding for it is a lung of its existence. The capi- 
 talists would command our young women, at their own price and 
 for what they willed, were they not stopped by the fence of 
 married life which they cannot always with impunity overleap. 1 
 Professor, we fight tooth and nail against the modern system of 
 production, because we are determined to vindicate the sanctity 
 of marriage against ' free love;' whereas you, lauding our theories, 
 which you appropriate as your own, act the reverse of them." 2 
 
 Socialism does not preach class antagonism, but only hostility 
 to the present commercial system. Marx says, in the preface to 
 his book, " I do not show the forms of the capitalist and the land- 
 lord in a rosy light ; but it must not be forgotten that thi se 
 persons are the representatives of a system and interests, personi- 
 fications of economic categories. They are not respunsible for the 
 
 1 German mothers in the gentle and middle classes do not nurse their own 
 children, but hire for them wet nurses, who are girls who have had illegitimate 
 children. These are paid higher wages than other servants, and are made much 
 of. A premium is thus put on loss of chastity. 
 
 2 Herr i on Treischlce der Socialistentudter. Eiue Socialistische Replik. Leipz. 
 1875, p. 33. 
 
426 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 ovil of the system, they are necessary products of it, forms that 
 must he evolved in the development ot social progress, to he super- 
 seded and disappear in their course." And Lassalle urges, " The 
 artisan must and ought never to forget, that all property once 
 acquired is unassailable and legitimate ; it is only when the 
 capitalist seeks to perpetuate the present confusion, and sets him- 
 self in opposition to the advance of mankind in blind egoism, that 
 he becomes the bourgeois" It is also a mistake to suppose that 
 Socialism seeks the break-up of property into smaller and ever 
 more infinitesimal portions. It is precisely this that has been 
 done by the Code Napoleon, which has made the whole peasant 
 class subject to Jew usurers. Subdivision of trade in manufactures 
 has been taken advantage of by employers to enslave the artisans 
 and draw the profits into their own purses. Subdivision of pro- 
 perty in land has had precisely the same effect. The Jew has 
 stepped into the place of the old landlord : the bauer toils all his 
 life long, earns a bare subsistence, but all the profits of his farming 
 are sucked up by the Jew usurer. The object of the movement, 
 says the Socialist, is the emancipation of mankind from the yoke 
 of capital. Towards this history is tending. When the middle 
 class was ripe for independence, it precipitated the ruin of the 
 aristocracy when they set themselves to oppose it in their selfish 
 greed of power. Their position, their rights were historic, only, — 
 empty forms, from which the animating spirit had flown. They 
 stood, leaning on these hollow, pithle.-s reeds, relying on these 
 shadows of substances extinct, to fight natural rights, animated 
 with eternal principles. Each host unfurled the banner of Rights, 
 but one bore historic rights heraldically emblazoned, the rights of 
 a dead civilization, and the other the living, ever renewing rights 
 of humanity. There could be no doubt as to the result. The 
 nobility made way for the middle diss. The castle fell into ruins, 
 and the factory rose. The pennant on the keep was replaced by 
 the smoke-snake of the mill-chimney. Men no longer fought in 
 the lists, but on the exchange ; smote one another not to the heart, 
 but in their purses. As the noble went down before the citizen, 
 so must the citizen vanish before the artisan. The great period of 
 commercial and manufacturing activity has been a chapter in 
 history, to be now concluded. It was necessary that capital should 
 build large factories, purchase machinery, subdivide labour, bring 
 
Social Democracy, 4£7 
 
 vast crowds of workmen to co-operate on one product, carry on 
 wholesale manufacture and trade, to prepare the way for the 
 wholesale trade and manufacture par excellence, which will he 
 carried on by the State. It was necessary that men should learn 
 first co-operation in production, before ' they could advance to co- 
 operation in distribution. We have got so far that we see our 
 goal, we see whither history points ; and never will Liberalism 
 and the middle class succeed in arresting the evolution of the 
 destiny of the masses, and snap short off the progress of history. 
 " We must look to the past," adds the Socialist, " and take from it 
 lessons for the future." Capital in money was never endowed 
 with fertility till labour was subdivided. In the natural state of 
 society, the shilling stuck to the owner. The Church forbade 
 usury, that is, the giving of money the faculty of procreating in 
 its own image. She did well. In the Middle Ages money was 
 borrowed as it is now, but then no opportunity offered of con- 
 verting the loan into a means of acquiring money. It was borrowed 
 to relieve want, not to speculate upon. 1 If society, for the common 
 good, forbade usury three or four centuries ago, it may forbid it 
 again, a century hence, having discovered by bitter experience what 
 a curse it has proved. This is all the expropriation sought by 
 Socialism. It is cast in our teeth, that our theory could never be 
 carried into practice. We answer it 7ms, and it beat the opposed 
 theory when put to the test of experience. In the Middle Ages 
 the feudal system represented that you advocate The few ex- 
 propriated the many. But in the towns the communal system 
 throve, and the towns waxed so strong on that S3 r stem that they 
 
 r broke the power of the feudal aristocracy. With the sixteenth 
 century that communal system was abandoned by trade, and the 
 feudal introduced under the form of plutocracy. 
 As concerns landed property, every one knows that originally 
 the land was common to all. It is so to this day in Java, and 
 there agriculture is nevertheless most intensive, and there in less 
 than a hundred years the population has risen from two millions 
 to seventeen and a half millions; so favourable has the system 
 shown itself. Every parish in Germany has still its common land 
 
 1 " Ea propria est usurarum interpretatio, quando vilelicet ex usu rei, qu?e 
 non germiuat, nullo lubore, nullo suiuptu nullove perkulo lucrum foetusque cou 
 quiri studetur." — Decree of fifth Lateran Council. 
 
 
4-8 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 and forest. It was when agriculture became intensive rather than 
 extensive, that common land was appropriated to householders. 
 But now, throughout Germany, subdivision of property in land 
 leads everywhere to wretched farming. The earth does not pro- 
 duce one half of what it would in the hands of a large holder ; 
 and we see that it is a commercial and financial necessity to do 
 away with these minute holdings and bring the land under whole- 
 sale culture, by the community. As population increases, properties 
 dwindle, and the land produces less ; the time must come when 
 society will no longer endure this waste of resources. The land 
 must be taken back by the community. No doubt the bauer will 
 object ; but he will soon see how much more prosperous he will 
 become when the Jew has his claws no more in him. 
 
 The State will organise national labour. General production 
 will be a social function, and private speculation done away with 
 forever. There will be no living on rents and funded property, 
 for property in land and banks will be abolished. In the place of 
 private speculators and manufacturers, the State, the collective 
 organ, will act, and regulate production by demand. By this 
 means the anarchy of competition will be supplanted by national 
 order. 
 
 It would be impossible to over-estimate the advantages of such 
 an organisation — could it be realised. Now capital and labour aie 
 alike wasted, squandered on swindling, on fruitless undertakings 
 which end in bankruptcy. Much labour and much capital would 
 be economised, when demand and production balanced each other 
 exactly. Such an organisation would call forth, not only a more 
 equal, but a more intense production. Many branches of industry, 
 oidy occupied with ministering to luxury, would disappear. The 
 moral advantage would be scarcely less. Nothing is so mis- 
 chievous to the moral fibre as waste of time. When every man 
 must work that he may eat, a healthy life will pervade the whole 
 community. All will be busy and all will be happy in the con- 
 sciousness that they are profiting themselves and the community. 
 
 As the production of goods will be common, so will be the 
 distribution of profits. The prime law of the community of the 
 future will be " To work its full wage." Not that each should 
 substantially possess the product of his own hands, as in the 
 Mediaeval commonwealth. The immense advance made by society 
 
Social Democracy. 429 
 
 in subdivision of labour makes this impossible, but each will 
 receive the absolute value r»f his work. The measure of the value 
 will be — true to the Socialist principle that work is the source of 
 all value — the day's labour. Whosoever shall- have done a certain 
 number of hours' work will receive a ceriificate or cheque for its 
 worth, and at the State stores he can provide himself with any- 
 thing he desires up to the value of his cheque. As all products, 
 all goods, are valued by the amount of work bestowed on them — 
 because they are, so to speak, the crystallisation of work — it will 
 be always possible to fix their value, and this will be so low as to 
 leave only a slight profit over. Thus all independent trade and 
 speculation — the market, in fact — will in the Socialist state have 
 no footing; and thus the first object of the system will be attained. 
 
 With respect to the normal work-day, it is not to be supposed 
 that the number of hours will be fixed for all alike, nor that in- 
 telligent and unintelligent work should be reckoned of like value. 1 
 On the contrary, all work will be appreciated by the skill it de- 
 mands, the discomforts and danger to health it may entail, the 
 intelligence which it requires for its execution. All these will be 
 taken into account and given their proper value. The man of 
 learning, the student of science, the educator of the young, the 
 painter, the poet, the musician, all will receive recognition and 
 payment, as workers together for the common good. They will be 
 paid out of the slight profit made on the sale of goods in the general 
 stores, — the very simplest method of taxation conceivable. 
 
 Such is the Socialist economical system. It is one dazzling and 
 full of promise. Presented before the artisans of Berlin, Leipzig, 
 Elberfeld, and other large towns, where Protestantism has lost its 
 hold on their affections, where, however, in their present distress, 
 they are craving for a religion, Socialism has become, not a theory 
 of government only, but a religion. It opens to them a glorious 
 future : it assures them a reign of justice, liberty, fraternity, and 
 equality on the earth. 
 
 Police and imprisonment will not destroy it ; ideas are not put 
 down by laws. Repression may make martyrs, but will not pre- 
 vent the spread of the creed. An atmosphere of ideas is precisely 
 the atmosphere that should not be concentrated and condensed, but 
 
 1 This is not, however, the doctrine of Liebknecijt, or of several of the 
 speakers at the Gotha Conference. 
 
430 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 given expansion and dilution. Nitrogen is innocuous, except when 
 crystallised in glycerine. Enthusiasts are alwaj's to be found to 
 whom expression of some kind is an imperative necessity ; they 
 muse over their theories till the fire kindles, and then, if not given 
 space for explosion, will blow down a house even if they bury 
 themselves under the ruins. 
 
 If Socialism were a foreign importation, a cordon of an effectual 
 kind might be drawn round the Empire to prevent the inoculation 
 of the guileless, healthy German operative with this contagious 
 French foot-and-mouth disease. But it is not so. It is of home 
 growth. German socialism is distinct from French communism. 
 
 That it is extensively propagated and believed in, admits of no 
 doubt. In spite of all Government restrictions and precautions, it 
 grows. In 1876 as many as 51 of the representatives of Social 
 Democracy in the Gotha Congress fell under the arm of the law, in 
 all 141 times, to the total amount of 205 months 30 days' imprison- 
 ment, and 1,307 thalers fine, beginning with 1 day's imprisonment 
 or 1 thaler fine, up to 44 months' imprisonment or 515 thalers 
 fine for one person. Liebknecht underwent 44 months' imprison- 
 ment. Hasenclever had to pay 515 thalers fine. Bebel was im- 
 prisoned 35 months, Hurlemann 9, Slauk over 8 months. In 
 Saxony, during the five years 1870-75, as many as 50 Social 
 Democrats underwent together 500 months' confinement. One 
 would have supposed that the great blunder of the crusade against 
 the Ultramontanes would have taught the Chancellor wisdom, and 
 that he would not attempt the same unsuccessful crusade against 
 Socialism. But a despotic government never learns, it hardens 
 itself in its blundering policy. 
 
 In 1875 Herr Geib stated in Hamburg that 503 associations of 
 Social Democrats had been organised in Germany — an increase of 
 66 per cent in two years. At the Socialist Congress at Gotha in 
 1876, there were 101 delegates, representing 284 places, and 37,774 
 members. 
 
 In 1871 the Socialists polled only 1,961 votes in Berlin; in 
 1877 they polled 31,576 ; in 1878 the votes recorded for a Socialist 
 member were 56,336. At the General German elections in 1871 
 they only collected 120,000 votes, and managed to return two 
 members; in 1874 they had 340,000 votes and nine members; in 
 1377, the number of votes for Socialist candidates was 497,000, and 
 
Social Democracy. 431 
 
 twelve members were returned to the legislature. In 1878, in 
 spite of harsh, repressive measures, in spite of their inaLility to 
 hold meetings, or even to state their views freely in the press, the 
 Socialist candidates polled far more votes that they did in the 
 previous year. If they have not so many representatives in the 
 Keichstag as before, this is due to the fact that the German election 
 law makes no provision for the representation of minorities. They 
 are practically extinguished, unless they happen to be a local 
 majority. Had there existed three-cornered constituencies, or had 
 election au scrutin de liste been employed, the Socialist party in the 
 German Parliament would have been greatly strengthened. 
 
 In spite of repression the Socialist press shows no loss of 
 activity. In 1869 it issued only six Social-Democratic papers; 
 when the anti-socialist laws were passed suppressing these pub- 
 lications there were forty-seven, of which thirty- two were political, 
 and three comic. 1 The illustrated Neue Welt at first numbered 
 18,000 subscribers; in 1878, 30,000. Der Arme Eonard, the 
 calendar of the party, sold in 1878 to the amount of 40,000 copies. 
 Socialist ideas are by no means confined to the lower stratum in 
 society. The whole professional class is more or less infected with 
 them. This class, living in a world of dreams, delighting in de- 
 structive criticism, utterly unacquainted with the practical aspect 
 of such questions, has been captivated by the speiious promises of 
 Socialism. This is especially the case with the professors of 
 political economy in the German universities. Socialistic doctrines 
 of tirade are too reactionary not to attract the sympathy of pro- 
 tectionists, and the advocacy of State encouragement of private 
 industry is quite in harmony with the tenets of Socialism. Free 
 trade aggravates the distress at home. The chief professor of 
 political economy at the Berlin University is a rank, an undisguised 
 S' c^alist. In his hostility to private property and his sympathy 
 with the theory of State control of manufacture and sale, he is 
 quite as far advanced as the Berliner Freie Presse itself. 2 
 
 1 Eulempiegel (Mninz), Leuchthugeln (Brunswick), and Krakehler (Cassel). 
 
 2 A writer in the Saturday Review of March 23, 1878, says very truly that the 
 general elections of 1878 strongly impressed Germans with two remarkable facts : 
 in the first place, the chief stronghold of the Socialists was shown to be Berlin 
 itbelf, so that it appeared that the greatest support of doctrines which seem to bo 
 tne offspring of sheer ignorance was found in the very centre of German 
 
432 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 The Social-Democratic party has been accused, if not of com- 
 plicity with, at all events of responsibility for, the two attempts 
 made on the life of the Emperor. The accusation is most unjust. 
 Hodel was a man of weak intellect, made weaker by depraved 
 morals; and Nobiling's brain trembled on the verge of insanity. 
 The party was as little guilty of their wicked and foolish attempts, 
 as was the Liberal in that of Biland on the pastor Heinrici, or the 
 Ultramontane in that of Kullmann on Prince Bismai'ck. 
 
 If violence be resorted to, it is not to advance the cause, but to 
 revenge the curtailment of natural rights. Shooting the Emperor, 
 or Bismarck, would not advance the Social millennium by a day; 
 but it may be the nemesis of an indignant people against thuse 
 who deny them the liberty of free propagation of their ideas. 
 Those ideas in themselves are harmless. They are an histoiic 
 theory, a prophecy of what is to be, a calculation of forces. The 
 theory may be wrong, the prophecy false, the calculation put out 
 by unreckoned elements. That can only be proved by experience. 
 Let it be proved by experiment. At least, let many minds con- 
 sider it from their many standing-points, and point out the weak 
 (•ales in the harness, and thrust the arrows of criticism through 
 ;he joints they find. The experiment is preposterous, say many; 
 liut it is not preposterous, it is only premature. Free trade has 
 not been fully tried. The Liberal programme has not been carried 
 out in its entirety ; and till that has been tested and has broken 
 down, the era of Social Democracy has not come. We have less 
 
 education, and indifference to the Fatherland was most zealously proclaimed in 
 the very centre of German military glory. Then, again, it was discovered, to the 
 surprise of many honest and respectable persons, that the Socialists by no means 
 all belonged to the mob. Decorous people, dressed in an unexceptionable manner, 
 and even to some extent wearing kid gloves, were seen to go solemnly to the poll 
 and proclaim themselves adherents of the lamented Lassalle. They were not 
 Conservatives wishing to give a wholesome lesson to the bourgeoisie, but men 
 who were frankly sick of modern society and repudiated it in spite of the 
 advantages which they personally derived from it. They would probably have 
 hesitated to drink beer with twelve hundred ladies in a dancing-saloon, or to 
 wear a red scarf at an irreligious funeral ; but when they had merely to go to the 
 poll, they had the courage of their opinions and plumped for a Socialist. 
 
 The Election of Hamburg of 1880 has shown the growth of Socialist doctrines 
 in spite of all efforts by Government to stamp them out. Hartmaun, the Socialist, 
 registered 13,155 votes against the Progressist candidate's 6,-151, and the National 
 Liberal's 3,583. 
 
Social Democracy. 433 
 
 of Socialism in England, because free trade and a free circulation 
 of labour have made prosperity pretty general. Germany lias 
 imported our manufacturing system, without throwing open her 
 ports, and whilst tying down her people to the land. She reaps 
 the evil and none of the good. 
 
 The attempts made to repress Social Democracy only aggravate 
 the disorder, and, in the mean time, the elements of a dangerous 
 combination are being brought together by a common persecution. 
 Ultramontanism has nothing to fear from Social Democracy and 
 much to gain. For a century the decrees of Popes against u.vury 
 have been the derision of modern civilisation. Ultramontanism 
 can come before Social Democracy flaunting this fact. The Church, 
 it can say, and say with truth, laid down the very principles which 
 you advocate, and condemned the whole modern system of making 
 capital breed capital. The world would not listen to her. A 
 hundred years of breaking banks, ruined industries, money panics, 
 and trade failures have shown mankind that the Church was 
 right and speculative trade was wrung. The commercial system 
 of the nineteenth century grew up on lines condemned by the 
 Church, and experience has justified her. That an alliance between 
 Ultramontanism and Socialism is possible is proved by the fact 
 of the growth of the latter among the Catholic population of 
 Brittany. Friends living there have assured me that this is the 
 case ; and that the poor, who have been known as devoted to their 
 religion, are becoming eager Communists as well. Pointing to 
 the Bible they declare that Christ was the first prophet of this 
 social gospel, and the early Church the first Communistic society. 
 Christ, they argue, came to be not merely the moral, but also the 
 social regenerator of mankind. For nineteen centuries moral re- 
 generation has alone been attempted : let us now look at Him as 
 the recaster of the social system, and, taking his precepts, act up 
 to them literally. For nineteen centuries the inculcation of the 
 moral law has led to small results. The morals of men are scarcely 
 better than they were in the days of heathenism, because govern- 
 ments have refused to establish the whole Gospel, and allow 
 Christianity a field for developing its social principles, except 
 within the walls of a monastery. But when the body politic is 
 reformed on the Gospel system, on the system of the Apostolic 
 Church, on the system of the Canonists, and of the great monastic 
 
 2 F 
 
 
431 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 patriarchs, then it will be found that the moral law is more easily 
 kept. How is it possible, in the present condition of trade, to 
 observe the eighth commandment in the spirit? Manufacture, 
 trade, must be more or less fraudulent, or the manufacturer, the 
 trader, is ruined. How is it possible for the seventh command- 
 ment to be observed? Marriage is a prerogative reserved to the 
 wealthy — at least in towns. The clerk and shopman cannot take 
 to themselves wives and make homes, on account of the cost, of 
 living and the uncertainty of trade. The consequences are a wide- 
 spread demoralisation. It is of no avail the Church preaching 
 purity, when the social condition is such that marriage is un- 
 attainable. This alone proves that the commercial situation is 
 unnatural, and if unnatural, anti-Christian also. It is the natural 
 right of every man to establish a household. Reorganise society 
 on the basis of natural and Christian right, and the sun will shine 
 out again over the dark places of society. Take the ordinary life 
 of a young man or lady of wealth. The day is spent in killing 
 time, life is wasted in a round of pleasures that pall by repetition. 
 Most of the vice in society arises from the empty heart seeking 
 ever new gratifications in the hope of appeasing an eternal craving. 
 Every form of debauchery is a new stimulant poured into a hungry 
 stomach. It intoxicates and enfeebles, it does not satisfy and 
 brace to action. Satan will always find mischief for idle hands to 
 do. More than half the infidelities in married life are the ugly 
 crop that springs out of idle hours.. An unfilled field grows briers 
 and thistles. If every man and woman be made to work, the 
 whole atmosphei'e of society will be refreshed and purified. Vice 
 still will be ; but it will be rough, not exquisite. Work, not, 
 pleasure, will occupy the heart; healthy exercise will invigorate 
 the moral as well as the physical system. Time will be utilised, 
 not killed. Those who live now as parasites on the commonwealth 
 will fall off, and the race disappear. All human beings, not a few, 
 will labour together for the common weal. 
 
 The old regime was bad enough ; for under it a few lived only 
 for pleasure, and the many worked. But they did, unconsciously, 
 one great good. They preserved a sense of honour, a reverence 
 for truth. The modern regime is at once a plutocracy and a kakis- 
 tocracy. An escutcheon may be stained, but a money-bag cannot 
 blush. All the evils of an aristocracy remain, and none of the 
 
Social Democracy. 433 
 
 advantages. The old aristocracy was lavish and licentious ; the 
 new plutocracy is ostentatious and obscene. 
 
 Such arguments may be heard from the mouths of devout 
 Catholics in France. The fusion has begun there between the 
 Church and the Commune. It has not proceeded far, but it has 
 begun. In Germany this is not the case. German Catholic work- 
 men are not as yet infected with Socialistic views. But this is a 
 condition of affairs not likely to last. Catholicism and Socialism 
 have a natural tendency to coalesce. The priests are not vehe- 
 mently hostile to it. The purse-proud burger has proved him- 
 self too offensive for them to desire the perpetuation of the 
 species. 
 
 M. Tissot, in his " Vienne et la Vie Yiennoise," gives a conver- 
 sation he had with an Austrian priest who had taken up Socialist 
 views. I will give the words of a priest in South Germany on 
 the same subject. " During the last three hundred years the 
 Catholic Church has had the most difficult of all tasks to perform. 
 She has had to find a modus vivendi for Christians in a social con- 
 dition for which the Gospel was not calculated. Take the Sermon 
 on the Mount. Is it possible to carry out its provisions in the 
 nineteenth century? Luther was brought face to face with the 
 same problem. He had penitents ; he knew by the confes-ional 
 how impossible it was to apply the hard and fast lines of Gospel 
 morality to the men and women of the century in which he lived, 
 in which already life was becoming complex. He solved the 
 difficulty in his rough and ready way by making the moral law 
 an invention of Moses, and free grace and forgiveness the revela- 
 tion of Christ. His Gospel was emancipation of the conscience 
 from the restraints of the moral law. It was impossible for the 
 Church to adopt his solution. She has tried another. She has 
 made pardon for sin almost as easy to be obtained as it is under 
 Luther. She maintains her protest, but that is all. There is a 
 higher and better way, but under the existing state of things it is 
 impossible for the world at large to follow it. She exhorts to the 
 higher, but connives at men following the lower. This is the 
 Jesuit programme. That it is not satisfactory, most will allow. 
 But something had to be done, and moralists did what they could. 
 The condition of society is changing, and we wait for a better and 
 healthier state in which the Church may take a more dignified 
 
436 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 line. Our course now is a pis aller, nothing more. We are im- 
 patient at this. We believe that the Gospel scheme is adapted to 
 something better. We believe that Christianity has not said its 
 last word. We see everywhere society breaking up, governments 
 tottering, and a new light breaking in on the minds of men, 
 showing a way in which the great wrongs of mankind may be 
 redressed, and — what touches us, spiritual guides, nearly — in which 
 the literal carrying out of the Gospel maxims of morality may be 
 made possible ; a condition in which moral questions are not a 
 tangle to be solved only by casuistry, but simple, to be cut with 
 common sense. We look at the teaching of Christ, and we find in 
 it the outlines of this new social philosophy. We look at the 
 history of the early Church, and we find attempts made to recon- 
 stitute society on a basis which is precisely that of Marx and 
 Lassalle. We open our canonists, and discover that Social-Demo- 
 cratic dogmas are the social dogmas of the infallible Church, 
 formulated before modern society had developed into the monster 
 which it now is. De Maistre a hundred years ago said : ' When I 
 consider the general weakening of moral principles, the immensity 
 of our needs, and the inanity of our means, it seems to me that 
 every true philosopher must choose between these two hypotheses 
 — either he must form a new religion altogether, or Christianity 
 must be rejuvenated in some extraordinary manner. Everything 
 announces some grand unity, towards which we are advancing with 
 mighty strides.' That is what I expect too, and expect to find it 
 in Social Democracy — not in a godless communism, but in a great 
 Christian social revival. Wait a bit. The day may not be so 
 distant when the successor of St. Peter will ,-et himself at the head 
 of this movement, and Christ will appear Himself not merely as 
 the moral but also the social regenerator of the world. Empires, 
 constitutional monarchies, republics have been tried, and have not 
 proved completely successful. Perhaps a great Christian Social- 
 Democratic State will prove the solution of the question how men 
 are to be governed. The Apostolic Chair has not received suffi- 
 cient favours from modern emperors, kings, and presidents to have 
 much scruple in consigning them to the lions. The phoenix may 
 consume her nest, but she will spring from the flames newborn, 
 victorious." 
 
 I do not say that Socialism has made much way among German 
 
Social Democracy. 437 
 
 Catholics. On the contrary, I assert that it has not ; hut I do 
 assert that Catholicism is not likely to oppose its extension. 1 
 
 There stands, however, in Germany, one dyke against which 
 Social Democracy may dash itself, hut which it will never under- 
 mine or overleap — not the iron empire, not penal laws, not the 
 military force, not the Catholic Church, but the great Bauernstand 
 — a Portland Beach of very small pebbles, loosely lying together, 
 uncemented, but impossible to move or break through. The Bauern- 
 stand clings to real property with inflexible tenacity. Nut a 
 bauer can be allured by the dreams of communism ; and the 
 Bauernstand is the basis of the empire. In the Russo-Turkish war, 
 the spade proved a more important weapon than the bayonet ; and 
 in the future battle between property and proletariatism, the 
 spade will make the rifle pits in which the capitalists will cower, 
 and from which they wdl decimate their assailants. 
 
 1 The encyclical of the present Popp on Socialism has been in fact a slap in 
 the face of the Jesuits, who have for long been coquetting with Social Democracy 
 and whose trump card has been the above programme. 
 
438 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 CULTURE. 
 
 Viola. — The rudeness that hath appeared in me, have I learned from my 
 entertainment. 
 
 Twelfth Night, act i. sc. 5. 
 
 For thirty years Germany was a battle-field. In Saxony 900,000 
 men had fallen within two years ; in Bohemia the number of 
 inhabitants had sunk to one-fourth. Augsburg, instead of 80,000 
 inhabitants, numbered but 18,000. Every province, every town 
 throughout the empire had suffered in like manner. The country 
 was completely impoverished. The trades had disappeared. The 
 busy looms were hushed, the factories destroyed, the warehouses 
 gutted. Vast provinces, once flourishing and populous, lay 
 entirely waste and uninhabited. In Franconia — which, owing to 
 her central position, had been traversed by every party during 
 the war — the misery and depopulation had reached such a pitch, 
 that the Franconian Estates, with the assent of the bishops, 
 abolished the celibacy of the Catholic clergy, and permitted each 
 layman to marry two wives, on account of the numerical superiority 
 of the women over the men. Science and the arts had fled the 
 realm. In place of learning, pedantry dragged on a wretched 
 existence ; and when a desire came for works of art, Germany was 
 fain to import a style from France. It had none of its own. 
 Thirty years are a generation. A generation had grown up with- 
 out the restraints of moral or other law; had grown up with their 
 only idea of right — the right of the strongest. Mediaeval culture 
 had been killed in the course of development. The humanising 
 effects of a gradually unfolding civilisation were undone, and the 
 whole nation was re plunged in barbarism. Chivalrous respect for 
 
Culture. 439 
 
 women was gone ; domestic life was done away with. To bouse 
 and fight in the taverns became the practice of men. Art had to 
 be recreated or imported. Poetry, literature, painting were ex- 
 tinguished. Eeligion also had expired. 
 
 I was speaking once at Lille with an old French commercial 
 traveller, on the irreligion uf Frenchmen as compared with 
 Belgians. He made the excuse: "Foreigners forget, in judging 
 us, that a whole generation grew up without God, without public 
 worship, without religion of any sort, under the first Republic. 
 God, worship, religion became only a tradition. The Church had 
 to relay her foundations, and start with the reconversion of a 
 country with a gap in its past." 
 
 In Germany culture of every kind became a tradition only. A 
 gulf of thirty years stood between the old civilisation and the new 
 era. Everything had to be reconquered, on every field. Every- 
 where lay only ruins; and it was not till more than thirty years 
 later that the heart came back to men to set up again the fallen 
 stones. 
 
 This most important consideration must not be put aside in 
 estimating modern Germany. We have had no such break in the 
 continuity of our civilisation since the Wars of the Eoses. and they 
 were a trifle compared with that of thirty years in Germany. Our 
 social development has, therefore, not been spasmodic, but leisurely 
 and methodical. But in Germany civilisation has not been as 
 systematic. The advance has not been all along the line. In 
 some departments there has been extraordinary development; in 
 others stagnation. German wood-engraving is absolutely un- 
 surpassed by any in Europe. German architecture is in the lowest 
 abyss of degradation. In figure-drawing German artists are all 
 but unrivalled ; in colour they are nowhere. In poetry they have 
 conquered a proud position; in romance they have yet one to 
 make. In science they have proved themselves masters of de- 
 structive criticism ; they have done little as yet in the more 
 difficult work of construction. " Germans," says Dr. Croly in his 
 preface to " Salathiel," " are never content till they have 
 demonstrated all facts to be fiction, and laboured to convert all 
 fiction into facts." 
 
 The German intellect is sharpened and polished into the most 
 admirable instrument, but the " manner " which " maketh man " 
 
410 Germany, Present and Pad. 
 
 is left sadly mi tutored. This is what every Frenchman or 
 Englishman notices. It is impossible to blink a patent tact. But 
 allowance is not made often enough for the Thirty Years' war, 
 whuse fatal influence is still felt in this particular. It is not my 
 wish or intention to illustrate this deficiency in culture of manner 
 by modern examples, but rather to excuse it. Germans who have 
 associated with foreigners are ready enough to admit the want of 
 refinement at home, and lament it; but they can always excuse it 
 by pointing back at their history. Modern politesse is the develop- 
 ment in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries of mediaeval 
 chivalry. Medievalism, with all its good as well as its evil, was 
 buried in Germany in the seventeenth century, and a new civilisa- 
 tion started. In two hundred years the fruit cannot be as mature 
 as that which has ripened through seven hundred. 
 
 The mischief wrought by the Thirty Years' war was not merely 
 the rupture with the past. It went farther; it interfered with 
 future amendment by insulating the classes with wide spaces 
 between them. The great body of the landed gentry was done 
 away with. The fortunes of the war, and the policy of the princes, 
 had ruined them. There was no chain along which social currents 
 could flow from the prince to the peasant. The citizen in like 
 manner was left to harden into his own peculiarities and class 
 prejudices. He had nothing in common with the pt-asant, and was 
 brought into no contact with the prince, for he was not hoffahig. 
 The gentleman, who has bequeathed his title to describe all that is 
 honourable, courteous, right in feeling, and considerate in conduct, 
 the conservator of traditional virtues where courts are corrupt, 
 bade fair to become an extinct species in Germany, like the Urochs. 
 There were gentlemen before the Thirty Years' war, as there were 
 giants before the Flood. The gentleman is a produce of many 
 ages, the resultant of many forces. He is not developed in a day. 
 
 With the kindest of hearts and the best of intentions, a German 
 omits the little courtesies, and even decencies of life, without which 
 civilized life, as we understand it in England, is intolerable. His 
 mode of eating, even in good society, is on a level with that of out- 
 agricultural labourers. With a rudeness dictated by economy of 
 postage-stamps, or disinclination to trouble himself with writing, 
 he does not acknowledge and answer letters. With a romantic 
 admiration for the fair sex, almost grotesque in its ideality, he will 
 
Culture. 441 
 
 treat his wife and daughters with scant courtesy even before 
 company. He maintains the extravagant external demonstrations 
 of respect observed in the last century, but has no ease in female 
 society. I do not like to say this ; but it is the statement of a 
 truth, and I only do so to excuse it. It is in no captious spirit 
 that I remark it; but, if no notice be taken of it, it will not he 
 amended. The German nature is not guilty of this blemish, but 
 the German history. The stars in their courses have fought 
 against Teutonic culture. A distinguished Protestant, after a visit 
 to Eome, returned a Catholic. " The religion must be true," he 
 said, " or it could not survive such scandals and villanies as are 
 perpetrated at Home." The German nature must be endowed with 
 marvellous resistance to bad influences not to be irredeemably cor- 
 rupted. It is the " entertainment " to which Germans have been 
 subjected which makes " rudeness appear" in them. 
 
 The court everywhere sets an example of manners and mode 
 of life. Let us look at what court life was in Germany when 
 it had recovered the exhaustion consequent on the Thiity 
 Years' war. 
 
 "Ich bin gut Deutsch," said Frederick William I. when he 
 succeeded to the Prussian throne. " Ich will nichts von den Blitz - 
 und Schelmfranzosen;"and he introduced a reaction against French 
 manners which were infiltrating his court. That reaction meant 
 recurrence to a brutality and savagery tolerable only as an in- 
 evitable consequence of war. He despised everything that per- 
 tained to culture. Of the great Leibnitz he said scornfully, " Bah ! 
 the fellow is not big enough and upright enough to stand guard 
 There can be no good in him." If he said that a pinch of common 
 sense was worth a university full of learning, he was not far 
 wrong ; for the learning in the universities was then but pedantry. 
 He was a bitter foe to aristocratic pretensions. When, in 17J7, 
 the Count of Hohna, as marshal of the nobility of Prussia, pre- 
 sented him with a remonstrance against the taxation of the nobility, 
 which concluded with the words in French, " Tout le pays sera mine" 
 the king burst out with, " Tout le pays sera ruine ? Nihil credo ; but 
 this credo, that the authority of the aristocracy will be ruined. 1 
 will establish my sovereignty as a rocher of bronze." One evening 
 a new chamberlain saying grace at table began, " The Lord bless 
 you " instead of " thee." The king interrupted grace : " You dog ! 
 
442 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 In God's eyos you and I are a pair of scurvy dogs — read grace 
 aritrht." As Frederick William was riding round Berlin one day, 
 he saw a poor Jew slink out of his way. He stopped, seized on the 
 man, and asked him why he was trying to make off. "Sire! I 
 was afraid of you ! " said the scared Hebrew. The king caught him 
 by the scruff of his neck, and laying into him with his riding whip 
 with fury, roared, " Fear me ! fear me ! I'll teach you to love me ! " 
 
 The palace was furnished, like the house of a citizen, with 
 common bare tables and chairs, and no carpets on the floors. In 
 private the king was a despotic master. His daughter, the Mar- 
 gravine of Baireuth, relates : " My brother Frederick told me that 
 one morning, when he went into the king's room, our father seized 
 him by the hair, flung him down, and after he had exhausted the 
 strength of his arm on the boy's poor body, he dragged him to the 
 window, took the curtain rope, and twisted it round his neck. The 
 prince had presence of mind and strength to grasp his father's 
 hands a.nd scream for help. A chamberlain came in and plucked 
 the boy away from the king." 
 
 King Frederick William entertained a bitter dislike for the 
 unfortunate prince. Frederick was very beautiful, and delicately 
 formed. The timidity inspired by the severity of his father was 
 mistaken by the latter for cowardice. His son devoted his leisure 
 to the study of French works, especially of Voltaire. His father, 
 on discovering this, punished him unmercifully with his cane. 
 The royal youth attempted to escape, was discovered, seized at 
 Frankfurt and carried into the presence of his father, who 
 personally ill-treated him, grossly outraged and insulted him in 
 a brutal speech, and, drawing his sword, was on the point of 
 running him through the body when he was prevented by General 
 Mosel. The prince and his accomplice, Lieutenant von Katt, were, 
 however, condemned by court-martial to death for desertion, and 
 the execution of the sentence was only prevented by the repre- 
 sentations of the foreign courts. Frederick pined for several weeks 
 in prison with a Bible and a book of hymns for recreation. A 
 scaffold was erected opposite his prison window, and he was com- 
 pelled to witness 1he execution of his friend Katt. 
 
 The Margravine of Baireuth, in her "Memoirs," gives us an 
 insight into the domestic arrangements of the king : — 
 
 "At 10 o'clock in the morning my sisters and I went to my 
 
Culture. 443 
 
 mother, and attending her presented ourselves before the king in 
 the adjoining room, and there we had to sigh away the whole 
 morning. At length came dinner. For this were provided six 
 badly dressed bowls of food, to supply twenty-four persons, and 
 most of them had to satisfy their stomachs with the smell of the 
 messes. After dinner, the king seated himself in his leather 
 lounging chair, and went to sleep for two hours, during which I 
 worked. As soon as the king woke he went out. The queen then 
 returned to her room, and there I read aloud to her till the king's 
 return. He only remained a few minutes and then went off to the 
 tabagie. At 8 o'clock we supped plentifully ; the king was present 
 and ate heartily, but the others went away hungry from table. 
 Till 1 o'clock the king generally remained in the tabagie, and till 
 his return we were forced to sit up." 
 
 The tabagie was the king's smoking-room. The palaces at 
 Berlin, Potsdam, and Wusterhausen were provided, every one, with 
 a smoking divan — not an abode of luxury by any means — furnished 
 with hard chairs, and a deal-table covered with green baize. To 
 these he invited his generals, ministers of State, and the gue>ts 
 staying with him. The gentlemen sat round the long table> 
 wearing their orders, and smoked out of long Dutch pipes. No 
 one was allowed to shirk smoking. Prince Leopold of Dessau and 
 the Imperial Ambassador Seckendorf were neither of them fond of 
 tobacco, but they dared not appear without their pipes. Before 
 each stood also a great mug of beer. The most important affairs 
 of State were here discussed. Plenty of ale was kept running, 
 and nothing delighted the king more than to make his princely 
 visitors sick with tobacco-smoke, or drunk with lager beer. The 
 principal butt of the evening was Gundling, the king's historian 
 and newspaper censor. Frederick William, in mockery of the 
 nobility whom he sought to stamp out or laugh down, created 
 him a baron, ennobled his sixteen ancestors in their graves, and to 
 insult the learned, appointed him President of the Academy of 
 Sciences; he made him, moreover, his chamberlain and financial 
 councillor. The king loved to make him tipsy, and then to jeer or 
 lash him into paroxysms of drunken fury. Once the king had a 
 bear brought from a menagerie and put in his bed. When Gund- 
 ling was drunk and incapable, the sovereign, attended by his field- 
 marshals, generals, and ministers of State, carried him to his 
 
444 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 room and tumbled him in between the sheets with Bruin. It was 
 not owing to the king's mercy that poor Gundling was not hugged 
 to death by the beast. On another occasion, when the Finanzrath 
 had been seen to bed, the king and the rest of the tobacco-college 
 besieged his bed-room with rockets and crackers, which were flung 
 in at his window. On another, the king ordered masons to wall 
 up the door of his room, and when Gundling retired from the 
 tabagie for the night, somewhat elevated, he was unable to get 
 into his apartment, and spent the night prowling about the palace 
 looking for his room, and knocking up sleepers and invading wrong 
 apartments. One evening the king had Fassmann, Gundling's 
 rival, brought into the tabagie, and he made Fassmann read aloud 
 to the company a satire composed by his majesty's orders against 
 poor Gundling. This was too gross an insult to be borne. Gund- 
 ling sprang up, seized the pan of red-hot turf that stood on the 
 table for the lighting of the pipes, and flung it in Fassmann's face. 
 The author, maddened by the pain, flew upon Baron Gundling, 
 half stripped him, and belaboured his back with the hot pan, so 
 that the latter was unable to sit for several weeks. Gundling died 
 in 1731, and in profane frolic was buried in an empty wine-barrel 
 instead of a coffin. Morgenstern succeeded Gundling. The king 
 ordered the professors of the University of Frankfurt-on-Oder to 
 dispute with Morgenstern in public on the theme, " Savants are 
 quacks and fools." Morgenstern appeared in the pulpit of the 
 disputation hall in a scarlet waistcoat and blue velvet gown 
 fiogged with silver lace, and great red trimmings, an enormous 
 wig which hung half down his back, and at his :«ide a fox's tail in 
 place of a sword. After the disputation had continued an hour, 
 the king stopped it, complimented Morgenstern, then turned to 
 the audience, whistled, and clapped his hands. They followed the 
 lead, and the disputation ended amid general uproar. 
 
 Court festivities ended in grotesque scenes. It was a standing 
 custom for the king to dance with his generals and colonels after 
 the queen and the ladies had withdrawn. 
 
 Frederick, the crown prince, had been forgiven by his father, 
 on condition that he married a princess of Brunswick whom he did 
 not love. He lived with his wife at Bheinsberg, where he kept a 
 little court, dividing his time between the arts, the sciences, and 
 re veilings. How life ran in this little court may be seen from the 
 
* Culture. 445 
 
 description given of it by the Baron von Bielefeld, who was there 
 in 1739, as guest. 1 " No sooner were we at table, than the prince 
 began to propose healths, one after another, to all of which we 
 were obliged to pay honour. Then followed a stream of jokes and 
 jovialities on the part of the prince and those round him. The 
 most serious brows lightened, merriment prevailed, and the ladies 
 took their share in it. In the space of two hours, however, it 
 became obvious to all that our stomachs were not fathomless 
 abysses into which we might be everlastingly pouring spirits with 
 impunity. I could no longer stand the atmosphere, dense with 
 fumes of all sorts, and I went out to draw a gasp of fresh air. On 
 my return, the vapours began to bewilder my brain. I had left 
 before me a glass of water. During my absence the princess 
 emptied it out, and filled it up with champagne. My senses were 
 somewhat blunted, and not perceiving the joke, I poured my wine 
 into the champagne, supposing it to be water. In order to com- 
 plete my destruction, the prince ordered me to sit at his side, and 
 began to converse afiably with me, and made me diink glass after 
 glass of Lunelle. . , . Wine makes people susceptible. The ladies 
 were overwhelmed with expressions of love. Presently, by acci- 
 dent or otherwise, the crown princess broke her glass. This was 
 the signal for us, in our ungovernable joviality, to follow her 
 example. In a moment the glasses were flying about into every 
 coiner of the hall ; all the glass, porcelain, mirrors, chandeliers, 
 bottles, dishes, everything was smashed to a thousand pieces. In 
 the midst of this complete havoc, the piince stood like the brave 
 man in Horace, contemplating the wreck of the world with eyes 
 unmoved. But when, at last, out of the jollity there grew riot, he 
 fled, assisted by his pages, and took refuge in his own rooms." 
 
 Piough and vulgar as the Prussian court had been under 
 Frederick William, it did not greatly alter its character under 
 Frederick II. He separated from his wife directly he came to the 
 throne, and spent his time in listening to music, and readi no- 
 French books, or conversing with French men of letters. He was 
 close-fisted, and looked sharply after his cooks, that they did not 
 purloin any of the broken victuals. He could not write German 
 without crowding his lines with orthographic errors. In dress he 
 was moderate, a Jew bought his wardrobe on his death for four 
 1 I am obliged to omit certain coarsenesses in this description. 
 
446 Germany, Present and Past. *■ 
 
 hundred thalers. The covers of his chairs, sofas, etc., were smeared 
 with tobacco, for he was a constant snuff-taker. In religion he 
 was perfectly tolerant, for he regarded all religions as various 
 modes of superstition. He allowed free speech and freedom to the 
 press ; " Eeason as much as you like," he was wont to say, " but 
 obey and pay." 1 
 
 Leasing, in a letter to Nikolai, dated August 25, 1769, thus 
 describes the Prussian capital : — 
 
 " In Frenchified Berlin, freedom is reduced to thinking and 
 writing about freedom, and bringing to market all the foolish 
 things that can be said against religion. But let any one attempt 
 to write plain facts, and speak out the truth to the courtiers, as 
 SonnenfeLs has done in Vienna, let any one venture to say a word 
 for the subjects, and against despotism, and he will soon find out 
 that this is the most enslaved country in all Europe." With this 
 agrees what the Italian poet Alfieri wrote in 1770 : " Prussia, with 
 its many thousand salaried satellites, on which capricious authority 
 is based, is but one huge watchhouse co-extensive with the king- 
 dom ; and Berlin is but one monstrous barrack." 
 
 On the intellectual condition of the capital, Lord Malmesbury 
 thus expressed himself in 1772, in a letter to his father: "The 
 society of Berlin is not expensive ; it cannot be in a town where 
 the inhabitants are not rich. The men are entirely military, 
 uninformed on every other subject, and totally absorbed in that." 2 
 
 On the moral condition of Berlin his judgment was as un- 
 favourable. In 1773 he wrote to Mr. Batt : " The private life of 
 Berlin will not bear being set upon paper." 3 And " none can be 
 worse off for the comforts of social life than Berlin. Berlin is a 
 town where, if ' for iis ' may be construed honest, there is neither 
 ' vir fortis nee fcemina casta.' A total corruption of morals reigns 
 throughout both sexes in every class of life, joined to penurious- 
 ness, necessarily caused partly by tho oppression of his present 
 majesty, and partly by the expensive ideas they received from his 
 grandfather, constituting the worst of human characters. The 
 men are constantly occupied how to make straightened (sic) means 
 
 1 When a difference arose about hymn-books, he settled it by deciding " Let 
 every man sing in church whatever foolery he likes." 
 
 2 Earl Malmesbury's Letters London, 1870, vol. i. p. 255. 
 
 3 Eail Malmesbury's Diaries and Correspondence, London, 1844, vol. i. p. 94. 
 
Culture. 417 
 
 support the extravagance of their life. The women are harpies, 
 debauched through want of modesty rather than from want of 
 anything else. They prostitute their persons to the best payer, 
 and all delicacy of manners or sentiment of affection are unknown 
 to them. Bad as this description is, I do not think I draw the 
 picture in too bad colours. I came without any prepossession, and 
 venture to suppose that I live here with too great a variety of 
 people to be blinded by prejudice. All I can say in their favour 
 is, that the example of irreligious neglect of all moral and social 
 duties raised before their eyes by the king, I say this, joined to the 
 success of all his undertakings, and the respect he enjoyed through- 
 out Europe, have infatuated their better judgment, and show them 
 vice in too advantageous a light." l 
 
 George Forster was in Berlin in 1779. He wrote: "I was 
 very much upset in my prejudices in favour of this great place 
 which I brought with me. I find it externally more beautiful, 
 but internally blacker than I anticipated. Berlin is certainly one 
 of the finest towns in Europe, but, the inhabitants! Prodigality 
 and tasteless enjoyment of life in them run out into bumptiousness, 
 boastfulness, and gluttony, daring rationalism and bai'efaced disso- 
 lution of morals. The women are all rotten apples. But what 
 chiefly disgusted me was the deification of the king in his foolish 
 extravagance, by even intelligent people, that wdiat is bad, false, 
 unjust, and eccentric in him is lauded as magnificent and super- 
 human." 
 
 Frederick William IT. succeeded " Old Fritz," and stern martial 
 despotism was followed by the rule of a seraglio. He was married 
 first to the Princess Elizabeth of Brunswick, but separated from 
 her in 1769, and married the Princess Louise of Hesse-Darmstadt, 
 who bore him his successor, Frederick William III. His chief 
 favourite was Wilhelmine Encke, married to the Chamberlain 
 Eeitz, whom he elevated to be Countess of Lichtenau, and over- 
 whelmed with estates and costly presents. When his eyes fell on 
 Fraulein Julie von Voss, she, as did afterwards the Countess Sophie 
 von Donhoff, insisted on a left-handed marriage with the king, and 
 this was concluded with the knowledge, if not the consent, of the 
 queen. The Evangelical Consistory rai.-ed' no objection to such 
 august bigamy. Countess Donhoff received from the king 200,000 
 
 1 Earl Malmesbury's Diaries and Correspondence, London, 1844, vol. i. 
 
41'S Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 thalers as her dower, her mother 50,000, her sister 20,000, and her 
 uncle 40,000. It may be imagined how disagreeable it was for the 
 queen, the crown prince, and the whole royal family to be forced 
 by the king to attend the soiree of the Countess Lichtenau. In 
 1797, the king, struck with a mortal malady, returned to his 
 capital from the baths of Pyrmont somewhat better, and a grand 
 festival was held in Berlin, at which the countess appeared in 
 Greek costume as Polyhymnia, and sang to the king some wretched 
 verses of congratulation composed by herself. The monarch was 
 so touched, that he bade the crown prince go to her and kiss her 
 hand. Frederick William left behind him a debt of 49,000,000 
 thalers. 
 
 But if the Prussian court was gross and sensual, it was outdone 
 in sensuality and extravagance by others, pre-eminently by those 
 of Saxony and Wiirtemberg. In the former, a Lutheran pastor 
 and general inspector, John Leyser, had the effrontery to publish a 
 work entitled " The Marrow of all Lands," urging pol}'gamy as not 
 only allowed by Holy Scripture, but necessary for salvation. The 
 Elector, John George IV., cast aside his first wife, a Danish 
 piincess, for the Margravine of Brandenburg-Anspach. When he 
 met her for the first time on her way to Dresden to be his wife, his 
 first salutation was, " You must be mad ! What do you mean by 
 wearing a velvet gown in the dog days ? " Formally, by written 
 documents, basing his right on Holy Scripture, he took also 
 Friiulein von Peitschiitz to be his second wife, and had her created 
 Countess of Bochlitz. 1 
 
 Augustus of Saxony died in 1733, leaving three hundred and 
 fifty-two children, among whom Maurice, the well-known Marechal 
 de Saxe, son of the beautiful Aurora, Countess of Konigsmark, 
 resembled him in bodily strength, but surpassed him in mental 
 powers. The countess was made Protestant Abbess of Quedlinburg, 
 " for which post," says Uffenbach in his " Travels," " she was well 
 suited by her imposing figure, but not by her morals." The most 
 notorious of the king's mistresses, the Countess Cosel, had extracted 
 
 1 Polygamy seems to have been much affected by the Protestant princes of 
 Germany, since, with Luther's consent, the Landgrave Philip h;id two wives at 
 once. The Margrave Leopold Eberhaidt of Wiiitemberg (the Mompelgard line) 
 married three wives at once. Eberhardt Ludwig of Wihtemberg had two. We 
 shall meet with others. 
 
Culture. 449 
 
 from him 20,000,000 thalers ; Frau von Spregel was less successful, 
 she retired from favour on 100,000. 
 
 Augustus was as extravagant as he was debauched. The fetes 
 he gave cost vast sums, wrung from his groaning subjects. 
 Mytho'ogical representations were perfurmed on an immense scale. 
 In Wackerbarth's biography, there is a description of a firework 
 for which eighteen thousand trunks of trees were used, and of a 
 gigantic allegorical picture which was painted upon six thousand 
 ells of canvas. One festival alone cost 6,000,000 thalers. The 
 Japanese palace contained Chinese porcelain to the amount of a 
 million thalers. At Dresden a hall is still shown completely 
 furnished with the ostrich and heron plumes used at these fetes. 1 
 Luxury and a tasteless love of splendour were fostered by this un- 
 heard-of extravagance, and it was merely owing to a happy chance 
 that the purchase of the Italian antiques and pictures, which laid 
 the foundation of the magnificent Dresden gallery, flattered the 
 pride of Augustus. 
 
 Charles William, Margrave of Baden, built Carlsruhe in the 
 midst of forests, in 1715, in imitation of Versailles, where he 
 i*evelled in Oriental luxury. Of the foulness of his court it is 
 impossible to give a description. That of our Charles II. was 
 decency and purity compared with it. 
 
 More brutal, and quite as sensual, was Eberhardt Ludwig, Duke 
 of Wiii temberg. Indeed, ever since the end of the fifteenth 
 century, the princes of this little land, up to the first king, seem 
 to have tried what their people could be brought to endure. They 
 exterminated the nobility, and gave over the whole conduct of 
 government into the hands of women or Jews. Eberhardt Ludwig, 
 though already married, got an obsequious pastor to pronounce the 
 nuptial benediction over him and Franlein von Gravenitz, who 
 thenceforth, till displaced by the younger and more beautiful 
 Countess von Wittgenstein, governed Wurtemburg. She made her 
 brother Prime Minister, and sold all the offices about court and in 
 the country. She obtained the commutation of punishments for 
 money, mortgaged or sold the crown lands, and filled her coffers 
 at the expense of the treasury of the duke. She even desired that 
 her name should be inserted in the public prayers in Church along 
 with that of the duke. " Madame," said a courageous pastor, " we 
 
 1 The gilding of a single gondola at a water fete cost 6000 thalers. 
 
 2g 
 
450 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 mention you every day in the Lord's Prayer, when we say, ' Deliver 
 us from Evil ! ' " 
 
 At a period of great famine the duke began the erection of a 
 new palace, at immense expense, at Ludwigsburg. To pacify the 
 people, at the foundation stone laying, he caused loaves of bread 
 to be flung among them. Several people narrowly escaped being 
 trampled to death in the scramble for food. " The princes of this 
 house," says Scherr, " seem for a long time to have sought how 
 far it was possible to carry licence and indecency." * 
 
 The courts of Ernest Augustus of Hanover and of Anthony 
 Ulric of Brunswick were as infamous and oppressive. 
 
 Ernest Augustus built Montbrilland for one mistress, Frau von 
 Kielmansegge, and the Fantaisie for the other, the Countess Platen. 
 His son and successor, George I. of England, devoted himself 
 entirely to the interests of Great Britain. But the absence of 
 the prince afforded no alleviation of the popular burdens. The 
 Electoral household, notwithstanding the unvarying absence of 
 the Elector, remained on its former footing. The palace bore no 
 appearance of being deserted ; except the Elector himself, not a 
 courtier, not a single gold-laced lacquej-, was wanting to complete 
 the court ; the horses stamped in the stalls ; the roj-al kitchen and 
 cellars were kept well stocked. The courtiers resident in Hanover 
 assembled every Sunday in the Electoral palace. In the hall of 
 assembly stood an arm-chair, upon which the monarch's portrait 
 was placed. Each courtier, on entering, bowed low to this por- 
 trait, and the w r hole assembly, as if awe-stricken by the presence 
 of majesty, conversed in low tones for about an hour, when the 
 banquet, a splendid repast prepared at the Elector's expense, was 
 announced. In Hanover, as in nearly every little principality, the 
 old nobility and gentry had been trodden out. " That was a 
 curious state of morals and politics in Europe," says Mr. Thackeray 
 in his lecture on George I. ; "a queer consequence of the triumph 
 of the monarchical principle. Feudalism was beaten down. The 
 nobility, in its quarrels with the crown, had pretty well succumbed, 
 and the monarch was all in all. He became almost divine : the 
 proudest and the most ancient gentry of the land did menial 
 service for him." 
 
 Every little prince — and there were hundreds of them — copied 
 1 Scherr : Deutsche Kulturgeschichte, bk. iii. c. 2. 
 
Culture. 451 
 
 the great princes, who aped the court of France. Louis XIV. had 
 created Versailles out of a sand)' forest, as a palace for pleasure 
 and court extravagance, away from the throng and eyes of Paris. 
 All the great and little princes of Germany must do the same. 
 Thus .sprang up Carlsruhe, Mannheim, Potsdam, Darmstadt, 
 Ludwigsburg, etc., towns away from the current of trade, living 
 on the court, founded at enormous cost, and diverting commerce 
 from its proper course. 
 
 As the great princes lived in extravagance, so did the little 
 ones. Carl Magnus, Count of Salm-Grumbach, must have his 
 Versailles. He built a palace at Grehweiler in 1749, at the cost 
 of 180,000 gulden. His annual income was only 60,000 gulden. 
 He kept open table, gave magnificent festivals, was attended by 
 lords and ladies in waiting, hussars, heyducks, Moors ; had his 
 court band and marionette theatre, and a bodyguard of six men 
 in blue uniform with white facings and red collars. He had one 
 drummer and one fifer to this regiment. Each soldier received 
 four kreuzers per diem as his pay, and more kicks and cudgellings 
 than kreuzers. In his stud were 120 horses. This extravagance 
 could not last long ; in 1768 his debts amounted to 300,000 gulden, 
 and 22,000 gulden annual interest. At last his whole income was 
 not equal to the interest on his debts. He had recourse to 
 various expedients to prolong his reign of splendour. He mort- 
 gaged to the Count of Lemberg a forest of 500 acres, which had 
 no existence. To pawn his villages he made school- children 
 subscribe the names of their fathers, or wrote names himself 
 of persons who did not exist, as bound with him to pay interest. 
 At last the Emperor Joseph II. issued a commission to try him, 
 and sentenced him to ten years' imprisonment for fraudulent trans- 
 actions. When he issued from prison he was so reduced that he 
 could keep but a single horse, and when his one attendant came 
 to him to say that there was no hay in the loft, and the count had 
 no money in his purse to buy any, " Well, well ! " said he ; " take 
 the horse out and give it a mouthful of fresh air." 
 
 The follies and extravagance of almost all the little counts and 
 princes claiming sovereignty are incredible. A Count of Limburg- 
 Styrum kept a corps of hussars, which consisted of one colonel, 
 six officers, and two privates. There were privy councillors at- 
 tached to the smallest barony, and in Franconia and Swabia the 
 
152 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 petty lords had their private gallows, the symbol of sovereign 
 jurisdiction. They nominated to incumbencies the pastors who 
 obliged them by marrying their cast-off mistresses. In 1746 the 
 consistory of Hildburghausen required every presentee to a living 
 to swear that he had not obtained the cure of souls by this 
 means. 
 
 Count William of Biickeburg, a man " with the finest Greek 
 soul in a rude Westphalian body," as Moses Mendelssohn describes 
 him in 1765, created the citadel of Wilhelmsburg on an artificial 
 island in the Steinhudermeer. It was elaborately and scientifically 
 engineered, and strongly garrisoned with 300 gunners. His in- 
 fantry numbered 1000 men. The fortress defended nothing but 
 a potato and cabbage garden, and an observatory with an inferior 
 telescope in it. 
 
 Moses Mendelssohn visited the count at Pyrmont. They 
 walked side by side talking. Presently they came to a ditch : 
 the count strode over it, and continued talking. After a while he 
 perceived he was alone, and looking back saw the little Jew 
 hovering on the further side of the ditch, unable to leap it. The 
 count returned, tucked Mendelssohn under his arm, strode over the 
 ditch, set him down, and continued the conversation. 
 
 The count was fond of taking an air bath every morning. For 
 this object he walked in his walled garden, wearing only his pig- 
 tail and boots, but armed with a Brazilian blow-pipe for bringing 
 down sparrows. One day, whilst thus invigorating himself, in- 
 haling ozone at every pore, like Adam, he saw a cock seated on the 
 wall of his Paradise. He discharged a dart, and the bird fell into 
 the adjoining precincts. With his natural activity, he escaladed 
 the barrier and alighted in the neighbouring garden, where a 
 party of ladies and gentlemen were breakfasting al fresco. The 
 prince, no way discomposed, bowed, apologised for his intrusion, 
 went after the bird, picked it up, and clambered over the wall 
 again. 
 
 Count Frederick of Salm-Kyrburg swindled the churches in 
 his principality out of their money to maintain his extravagance. 
 When plunged in debt, he maintained his old show. At table 
 every day eighty dishes were served, but of these only two or 
 three were edible. His guests gulped down as best they might 
 what was set before them. 
 
Culture. 453 
 
 The house of Schwarzburg is of old Thuringian origin. It has 
 two principal possessions, Sondershausen and Rudolstadt, which 
 have gone to two branches, that of Schwarzburg-Sondershausen and 
 that of Schwarzburg-Rudolstadt. 
 
 Schwarzburg-Sondershausen has a superficial extent of 15*65 
 geographical square miles, and in 1875 had 67,480 inhabitants. 
 Christian Giiuther III. reigned in this little principality from 
 1758-1794. He kept a splendid court, gave grand masquerades, 
 and kept up rigid etiquette; whilst the Jew Herz, his factotum, 
 sold offices about court and in the land, and the capital Sonderts- 
 hausen swarmed with parasites. 
 
 A little while before the outbreak of the French Revolution, 
 in the summer of 1789, the Hamburg tourist, Ludwig von Hess, 
 visited Sondershausen, and described what he saw. 
 
 " The little princely capital of Sondershausen is pleasantly 
 situated on the Wipper, in a long narrow plain, girt in on both 
 sides by lofty hills as by walls. When one arrives from the north, 
 and looks down on it, the appearance of the valley is like that 
 of a calm broad river, in the midst of which stands, as an island, 
 the little town. 1 h effect is enchanting. But the town has the 
 look of being a mere appendage to the palace which rises above it 
 in pre-eminent dignity. 
 
 "This palace contains 350 rooms, of which the reigning prince 
 has built the greater part. One may be pretty sure that a little 
 prince when he lacks originality will imitate another who lives 
 on a larger scale. This prince makes the Landgrave of Hesst- 
 Cassel (Frederick II.) his model, at least in his passion for building. 
 He would copy him also in his military pretensions, were the land 
 large enough to allow him to enrol an army. However, Prince 
 Giinther has one original feature in him, he is passionately ad- 
 dicted to clocks. The greatest adornment of the 350 rooms 
 consists of clocks of all sizes and sorts, some large, some diminu- 
 tive, some that strike, some that cuckoo, some that are repeaters, 
 and others that play tunes. Some have cost him 600 thalers, most, 
 however, much less. He has not made one himself, though fund 
 of mechanics, but he occupies himself and all his family in 
 polishing madrepores. 
 
 " Since he has taken to building he has made himself as popular 
 as any German prince; for, instead of going about nagging at 
 
454 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 the masons for not working faster, he button-holes them, and 
 draws them off by the hour from their task, that he may twaddle 
 and joke with them. He has given up hunting, keeps no more 
 dogs, and only seventy-one horses, which he rarely uses. But he 
 takes plenty of exercise nevertheless, for he allows no one but 
 himself to wind up his innumerable clocks. His taste in mistresses 
 is not as original as his fancy for clocks. In this particular he 
 follows his great examplar, but with more patriotism, for he has 
 chosen one of his subjects, the daughter of a guardsman, a pretty 
 enough girl, but horribly stupid, called Hannchen Mannchen. 
 She is too stupid to have any political or courtly influence. She 
 lives in the castle in rooms adjoining the princesses, and is on 
 the most familiar terms with them. They 'thee and thou' her 
 affectionately. Prince Giinther had three sons and three daughters 
 by his wife Charlotte of Anhalt-Bernburg, who died in 1777. 
 The princesses are amiable creatures, but unfortunately they were 
 over-nursed as babies. Consequently the two eldest are crooked, 
 and the youngest only, who is supposed to be a beauty, is straight. 
 Their characters are irreproachable. Worldly pleasures, mas- 
 querades, and the like, do not prevent the princesses from harbour- 
 ing ennui ; the traces in crow's feet are apparent on their faces. 
 But to smooth these away and relieve the tedium, the rector 
 Bolticher calls daily, and spends three hours with them lecturing 
 on religion and history. He has written a book called ' The 
 Agreeable Month.' I have not read it ; the German public has 
 forgotten it ; but it may still, perhaps, be found in Sondershausen. 
 In the capital lives Wetzel, author of ' Wilhelmine Arend, or 
 the Triumph of Sensitiveness,' and other books of the sort. Poor 
 Wetzel has lost his senses in the composition of his last work, 
 ' On the Human Soul.' His father is dead, but his mother lives 
 still in Sondershausen. From early childhood he was so detached 
 in ideas and feelings from his parents that he came to suppose 
 himself not to be their child, but an adopted one. He went about 
 Germany studying men and manners. His mother wished much 
 to make a home for him, and wrote to him to that effect. His 
 last letter to her was from Vienna. He answered her harshly, that 
 she was not, could not be his mother, for how could such a 
 commonplace person as she produce such a genius as himself. 
 Now that he is back, and half demented, in Sondershausen, she 
 
Culture. 455 
 
 supports him with the work of her hands. He lives alone, and 
 takes only weak coffee and boiled potatoes. 
 
 " The court take no more notice of him than to nickname him 
 the ' overwrought savant.' The prince and Hannchen Mannehen 
 have no conception how it is possible that a man can lose his 
 wits. They bless God they have no wits to lose. They never 
 read anything ; and Wetzel would starve under the palace walls if 
 his old mother did not tuke him his potatoes daily. 
 
 "But Wetzel is not the only example in Sondershausen of the 
 vanity of human greatness. Not far from him wastes in seclusion 
 the brother of the sovereign, Prince Augustus, who lives in a 
 long wing of the palace very much like a gymnasium. As Wetzel 
 sways between philanthropy and misanthropy, so does the prince 
 oscillate between want of necessaries and want of credit. His 
 whole annuity or allowance amounts to 10,000 thalers, 1 and in a 
 capital where every winter there are twenty masked balls, and 
 at each of which he must appear in a new and suitable costume, 
 this sum is very little. Prince Augustus therefore spends his 
 time, when not engaged in these royal festivities, in concocting 
 pathetic begging letters to his brother. The sovereign is so 
 accustomed to receive these, that they all remain without effect. 
 Prince Augustus achieved one good stroke in marrying a princess 
 of Bernburg, who brought him as dower 100,000 thalers. He 
 rollicked over this newly acquired treasure but a very few hours, 
 when, to his unspeakable dismay, his creditors SAvooped down on 
 it, and carried off the whole sum to the last farthing. In this 
 situation Prince Augustus mourns out his hopeless existence. 
 
 " One may see from the conduct of the prince towards his 
 brother, and from the efforts he makes to snip the Avings of his 
 extravagant heir, that he is not open-handed. His revenues 
 amount to about 200,000 thalers ; 2 of these he spends some 50,000 
 in and about Sondershausen. His ancestors, after the fashion of 
 little princes, left the State with a debt on it, but this he is clear- 
 ing off. His army consists of 150 infantry soldiers and 28 guards 
 on horseback, fine men, in good uniforms. The military like their 
 sovereign, but the citizens and peasants are very lukewarm in their 
 praises. Solomon says that a good king must rise early. So does 
 the prince of Sondershausen. His first morning duty is to go into 
 1 1500Z. 2 300,00Z. 
 
•toU Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 the stables and see after his horses. Then he walks in his garden, 
 or looks at the buildings, winds up his clocks, and so the morning 
 passes to dinner-time. After dinner he attends -to the affairs of 
 State, assisted by his chancellor, who draws a pay of 2000 thalers 
 (300Z.), and four assessors, with a salary of 400 thalers (60Z.) each. 
 His chancellor is Privy Councillor von Hopfgarten, who owns 
 Schlotheim. He and the sovereign are the only rich persons in 
 the land, and have so managed matters between them, that no 
 private individuals who have scraped together a few thalers can 
 invest them in anything bringing in more than four per cent. 
 
 " The Prince of Sonder.-bausen prefers living at Ebleben to 
 the Eesidence, and spends there the greater part of the summer. 
 The most remarkable thing at Ebleben is the palace garden. I 
 never in my life saw such specimens of hideous taste, and I hope 
 never to see the like again. The entire garden is strewn with 
 statues, or rather with wooden monstrosities which are painted 
 grey with oil-colours, to make them look like stone. Everything 
 is common, vulgar, debased, without the smallest token of taste or 
 dignity. On entering the palace garden one is distracted between 
 laughter and dismay at seeing two wood-stone soldiers set up 
 presenting arms, one on each side of the entrance. They are gaunt 
 figures, with pigtails, caps, and cockades, stiff as pokers. And as 
 they are erected on tall pedestals they look like giants. More 
 absurd still are two basins paved with smooth stones, never, how- 
 ever, filled with any other water than rain. In the midst of the.->e 
 basins are set up gawky horses galloping at full speed, with 
 postilions on their backs wearing little hats, cockades, flying 
 jackets, tall boots, and protruding pigtails. Each is represented 
 blowing his horn. Beside each runs a little panting dog, and 
 behind stands a tree painted white, with the traces of green paint 
 still adhering to the leaves. 
 
 " The crown prince lives a German mile out of Sondershausen, 
 in the forest, and, after his father's fashion, had a mistress, a 
 butcher's daughter. She was unlike Hannchen Miinnchen, for 
 she was ugly, and had some sense in her head. The heir to the 
 throne lived fast, and involved himself in debts- His economical 
 father allowed him eight horses, and he kept over thirty." This 
 prince, also called Gunther, succeeded his father in 1794, and 
 reigned till 1835. He married his cousin Caroline of Kudolstadt. 
 
Culture. 457 
 
 After the birth of a crown prince in 1801, she separated from her 
 husband, and retired to her parents' court at Kudolstadt. 
 
 Prince Giinther ruled his little realm like an emperor. The 
 inhabitants numbered then 60,000. He had a multitude of 
 officials, and published his court calendar with the list of them all, 
 and their order of precedence. The principal offices were filled by 
 his natural children, of whom there were plenty. He was fond of 
 music and the drama. At the theatre he sat in the royal box 
 smoking a long pipe, and every one was allowed to smoke in the 
 court theatre. Travellers, passing through Sondershausen, were 
 invited by the prince to the performances. The " Traveller's 
 Book " at the Eagle went up to the palace, and the prince sent his 
 red liveried heyducks to invite the visitor to the play. In the 
 theatre he made the stranger sit with him in his box, and provided 
 him with a clay pipe and tobacco. On one occasion a Prussian 
 major, who was at Sondershausen, was thus sitting with the 
 Prince, whilst Kotzebue's dull play of " Bayard " was being per- 
 formed. " How do you like it ? " asked the prince. " Surpassing 
 well, your serene highness," answered the major courteou^y ; " I 
 should be sorry not to have a chance of seeing the piece again." 
 The prince waited till the play was concluded, but then, before 
 the curtain fell, he shouted from his box, " Hey ! hey there ! 
 Here's a Prussian major wants to see the play again. So act it 
 through once more." And the performers were forced to repeat 
 the whole drama. 
 
 The park to the palace was thrown open to the public, and the 
 court band performed in it on Sunday and festival evenings. The 
 court kitchen and pastry-cooks, at the prince's orders, supplied 
 refreshments to the troops of townspeople who assembled in it ; 
 and his serene highness himself rambled about in the dusk, flirtino- 
 with the prettiest girls, and initiating the intrigues which supplied 
 his offices with officials. 
 
 The prince was a good wrestler, and could generally throw his 
 man, and he was proud of exhibiting his dexterity before his 
 subjects. But one day he met with his match, a stout country 
 farmer, who flung his serene highness. The prince, sprawling on 
 the ground, swore he had slipped on a cherry-stone, forgetting that 
 it was not the time of the year for cherries. He picked himself 
 up, and doubling his fists flew on the farmer in a frenzy of dis- 
 
458 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 appointed vanity. The bystanders forming the ring in vain 
 urged the bauer to allow himself to be tripped up by his serene 
 highness ; the countryman had no notion of the exigencies of court 
 complaisance, and gave the prince fisticuffs in return. The combat 
 became furious; at last his serene highness, whose nose was 
 bleeding and his eye blackened, disengaged himself and screamed, 
 " Hold ! A fortnight in prison ! " and the guards marched the 
 unyielding bauer off to the lock-up. 
 
 In 1835 Prince Giinther was deposed, and his son elevated to 
 the throne. This was effected by a revolution managed by Privy 
 Councillor von Ziegeler, who got it up after the fashion of a St. 
 Petersburg palace revolution, only on a very diminutive scale. In 
 the scare he signed a resignation of the crown, and was sent to 
 his hunting lodge of Possen. As be found himself there treated 
 much like a prisoner, he tried to escape to King Frederick William 
 111. of Prussia, but his plan was discovered, and he was kept ever 
 after under surveillance. He spent the rest of his time playing 
 skittles, or looking after his horses, and died in 1837. 
 
 Ludwig Giinther, Prince of Schwarzburg-Eudolstadt, had 
 almost as eccentric a peculiarity as Christian Giinther of Schwarz- 
 burg-Sondershausen. He was passionately fond of painting the 
 portraits of horses. At the present day 246 such portraits remain, 
 the produce of his industry, adorning the walls of the palace of 
 Schwarzburg. He died 1790. His court was more simple than 
 that of Sondershausen, and much more respectable. He succeeded 
 to the sovereignty because his elder brother had married a stable- 
 keeper's daughter in Leipzig, and though ^he was ennobled, yet her 
 sons were obliged to bear her name, and were excluded from 
 succession, as being morganatically born. 
 
 The court of Nassau-Usingen was decorous and simple, a plea- 
 sant contrast to most of the others. A traveller in Bernouilli's 
 Collection was at Biberich in 1780, five years after Prince Carl 
 Wilhelm had succeeded to the sovereignty. " Hospitality," he 
 says, " was at this court as great as visitors were numerous. Every 
 stranger who was provided with references was received with the 
 utmost kindness, and was allowed to appear there every day, 
 uninvited and unannounced. 
 
 "We found the prince in his garden when we came to Biberich. 
 He was surrounded by gentlemen. He is a man of middle stature, 
 
Culture. 459 
 
 well developed, and with kindness of heart and love to mankind 
 beaming out of his intelligent face. His neat dress shows him to 
 be a man who does not think men are to be blinded by display, 
 like children and fools. He speaks little, seems to love solitude 
 rather than a crowd, and attracts every one to him by his gentle, 
 courteous manner. We soon sought the society of the ladies; 
 amongst these were the sovereign princess, and the two princesses, 
 a Countess of Leiningen (sister of the prince), and a Countess of 
 Guntersblum and her daughter. We went to table in the great 
 round hall lighted from the cupola above. The effect is striking. 
 Above is Jupiter on his eagle, and around him are the gods and 
 goddesses. A balcony overhangs the Ehine. Every one sat by 
 the lady he had taken in. I was next to one of the young prin- 
 cesses. Sociality, cheerfulness, and buoyancy of conversation, such 
 as are generally far from the tables of princes, were present here. 
 Every eye was not held spell-bound on the presence of one. Each 
 spoke as he liked, and let his wit run with him where he listed, 
 and, what is not universal, was able to eat till he had satisfied his 
 hunger. 
 
 " After dinner, which- scarcely lasted an hour, we went into the 
 gallery adjoining, lighted on one side, with scenes from Virgil and 
 Homer painted on the other. Here we drank coffee, read news- 
 papers, amused ourselves, and then rambled about the garden. 
 There was no gambling. All amusements were simple and coun- 
 trified. The ladies were not ashamed to devote their hands to 
 something better than card-playing; they read, and their minds 
 were cultivated. As may well be imagined, every beautiful sum- 
 mer evening draws the company out into the garden or down to 
 the banks of the Rhine, and the fresh lovely nature contributes a 
 cheerfulness which is sought in vain in the gorgeous halls of other 
 princes. 
 
 " The two princesses, the elder aged seventeen and the younger 
 sixteen, 1 are so good, gentle, and natural, that there is nothing of 
 the stiffness of a court about them. There is something un- 
 speakably attractive in their appearance, which makes one forget 
 they are not also beautiful. Of pretension, of pride, there is not 
 a trace in them. The happy blending of frankness with shyness 
 
 1 Caroline, born 1762, married Prince Frederick of Hesse-Cassel in 1786 ; 
 Louise, born 1763, never married. 
 
4G0 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 makes their society especially agreeable. They are well-grown, 
 and their dress is simple but in good taste. 
 
 " Among other estimable acquaintances that I made at Biberich, 
 was that of the Crown Prince of Nassau-Saarbriick. This charming 
 young gentleman is well educated, and attracts every one's respect 
 and love by his courtesy. His lively temperament is kept under 
 wonderful control for a lad of eleven years. He is colonel in the 
 French service, and bridegi'oom of the Princess of Montbarry, who 
 is seven years his senior. The betrothal took place on October 6, 
 1779, when the prince was eleven and the princess eighteen. The 
 young husband after that went to the University of Gottingen." 
 
 The " Memoirs " of the Baroness Oberkirch, who was present 
 at this marriage, give us some particulars of it. She says, " The 
 reigning Trince of Nassau-Saarbriick gave a magnificent fete on the 
 event of the marriage in the Castle of Eeichshofen, near Hagenau, 
 belonging to a Herr von Dietrich. All the world was invited — 
 all the neighbouring courts. Everthing was in the most splendid 
 style. Chases, fetes, promenades lasted three days. During the 
 ball there was no getting the bridegroom to dance with the bride ; 
 at last he was threatened with a whipping unless he did so, and 
 promised a heap of sugar-plums if he consented. Then he led her 
 through a minuette. He showed great aversion to his bride, but 
 the greatest attention to the little Louise von Dietrich, a child of 
 his own age, and sat himself down beside her the moment the 
 tedious performance with the bride was over. My brother showed 
 him a picture-book to pacify him, but in the book was a wedding. 
 The moment the prince saw this, he closed the book in a huff, and 
 exclaimed at the top of his voice, ' Take it away, take the nasty 
 book away, that is too horrible ! A wedding ! I don't want to hear 
 of any more weddings. But look here,' he continued, 'here is a 
 great long gawky just like Mademoiselle de Montbarry ! ' and he 
 pointed to a figure in the book." 
 
 The Nassau-Usingen and Nassau -Saarbriicken courts were 
 strongly influenced by Fiance, and the refinement they showed 
 was due to their relations with the more polished Gallic nation. 
 Court life in Vienna under Joseph II. was also very different. 
 This noble emperor, a worthy son of a great and good mother, 
 devoted his whole life to the service of the State, and had no time 
 for the indulgence of fancies. He never gambled. On the occasion 
 
C Ltlt are. 461 
 
 of a visit to Versailles he declined to take a hand at cards. " A 
 prince who loses," he said, " loses the money of his subjects." 
 Joseph had no mistresses. When he lost his dearly loved wife, 
 Isabella of Parma, he sought and found consolation in a marriage 
 with Josephine of Bavaria, and the society of amiable ladies of the 
 highest class. If his regard for these seemed sometimes to exceed 
 the limits of friendship, it never led him to transgress those of 
 morality. He was not a drinker or a gourmand, nor a cynic in 
 dress like Frederick of Prussia. When not in the uniform of his 
 regiment, he wore a plain coat of dark colour. The court of the 
 Empress, Maria Theresa, had cost six millions of gulden, that of 
 Joseph II. cost only half a million. He loved music, especially 
 German music, and played the violoncello. He highly esteemed 
 Mozart, who composed in his reign. The haste with which his 
 sanguine choleric temperament made him carry out his plans of 
 reformation frustrated their utility; and Frederick was right when 
 he said that Joseph always took the second step before he made the 
 first. But his intention was right and pure, his desire for the 
 education and improvement of his people was sincere; and he 
 succeeded in divorcing Austria from Spanish formalism, and accom- 
 modating it to modern times. In 1787 he wrote to Dalberg : " I 
 gladly receive your communications as to the means of benefiting 
 our common fatherland, Germany; for I love it, and am proud to 
 be able to call myself a German." 
 
 But the moment we turn our eyes into the heart of Germany, 
 we find rough manners, extravagance, and disorder. 
 
 Leopold, " the old Dessauer " of Frederick the Great, was prince 
 of Anhalt-Dessau. The tradition of the house is that it was 
 descended from a bear, and certainly it has done much to show the 
 world that bearishness runs in its illustrious blood. Leopold was 
 attached from boyhood to Anna Lise, daughter of an apothecary 
 named Fohse, at Dessau. One day, as he passed down the street, 
 he saw her at her window with a man speaking to her in a familiar 
 manner. Prince Leopold rushed upstairs in ungovernable fury, 
 and ran him through the body. Then, when too late, he learned 
 that the person he had transfixed was a doctor, and cousin of the 
 damsel. He married her, and the emperor created her a princess 
 in her own right, so as to legitimatise her offspring. 
 
 The marriage was a happy one; she bore him ten children, 
 
4G2 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 and died two years before the prince. When the news of her 
 decease reached him he was in the field at Neisse, in Silesia. He 
 was inconsolable, and communicated their loss to his suns, who 
 were with him in camp, in the following laconic speech : " Curse 
 it, boys, the Devil has carried off your mother." 
 
 Prince Eugene was wont to call him the " Bulldog," and he 
 was proud of the designation. He served in the Prussian army 
 under Frederick I., Frederick William I., and Frederick the Great, 
 and it was he who gave the Prussian infantry its organisation. 
 He was in twenty-two battles and twenty-seven sieges, and only 
 once was grazed by a ball, consequently the soldiers regarded him 
 as invulnerable. Pollnitzen's " Memoirs" thus describe him : " The 
 Prince of Anhalt-Dessau was well built. His whole bearing, face, 
 dress, everything about him bespoke the soldier, but also the 
 oddity. He was active, and unwearied in work. Heat and cold, 
 want and superfluity, seemed not to affect him. He was brave to 
 temerity, in discipline most harsh, but, he loved the soldiers, re- 
 warded them, and associated familiarly with them. He was a 
 warm and true friend, but an implacable enemy ; easily won, he 
 was obstinate to pig-headedness in his fancies. Little accustomed 
 in his youth to moderation, for a long time he was dissolute and 
 savage. He cared nothing for the pomp of a court, and in his 
 manners he little regarded proprieties, and his mode of life was in 
 little accord with his position. A lover of supreme power, he 
 would like to have enslaved the whole world under himself. 
 Strangely enough he disliked learning so much that he would not 
 allow his princes to have a tutor, as he said he wanted them to 
 make themselves and not be manufactured by others." On his 
 Italian journey when young he was attended by a French cham- 
 berlain, M. de Chalesac. At Venice one night the prince returned 
 to his hotel drunk, and was reproached by de Chalesac. The 
 prince seized a pair of pistols, levelled them at his chamberlain's 
 head, and roared, " You dog, I must positively kill you." " You 
 may do so, your serene highness," said the courtier, "but it. will 
 have' an ugly look in history." The prince thought a moment, 
 laid down the pistols, and said, " Yes, you are right, it would not 
 read respectably." 
 
 One day in church the preacher gave out the first verse of a 
 hymn : 
 
. Culture. 4G3 
 
 Neither hunger l.or thirst, 
 
 Nor want nor pain, 
 Nor wrath of the Great Prince 
 
 Can me restrain. 
 
 Prince Leopold thinking he was alluded to, grasped his walking 
 stick, and made a rush at the pulpit, to thrash the pastor for Lis 
 insolence. The minister screamed to him, " Sire ! I mean Beelze- 
 hub, Beelzebub, not your highness ! " and scarce pacified the furious 
 prince, and saved his own hide. 
 
 His piety had its peculiar colour. Before the battle of Kessels- 
 dorf he prayed, " Dear God, graciously assist me this day. But 
 if you won't, why then, for goodness' sake, don't help these black- 
 guards, my enemies; but stand quietly by, look on, and don't 
 meddle. I will manage them." 
 
 His daughter Louise was married to the reigning Prince Frede- 
 rick of Bernburg. While Prince Leopold was in Halle with his 
 regiment, he received news that she was at the point of death. 
 He at once marched from Halle to Bernburg at the head of his 
 troops to do military honours to her departure, and going into the 
 castle garden he knelt down, and with tears in his eyes prayed, 
 " Lord God ! I haven't asked you a single thing for an age. And 
 I won't bother you any more if you will only restore my daughter 
 to health now." However, she did not recover, but died in the 
 flower of her age, 1732. The Dessauer' s favourite song was 
 Luther's " Ein' feste Burg ist unser Gott;" which he called "Our 
 Lord God's dragoon march." He only knew or cared for one tune, 
 the Dessauer March, and he thundered Luther's hymn, and all 
 other psalms, in the church to the same tune. Oelsner wrote to 
 Varnbagen, " This savage is like Peter the Great, be has a mixtuie 
 of simple common sense and humanity along with his barbarism. 
 On one of his campaigns he came to Lomnitz, a village in Silesia, 
 of which my maternal grandfather was lord. He asked for a 
 guide, and was given a swineherd. The prince ordered the man 
 to step into his carriage. The poor fellow felt not a little 
 frightened before the fire-eater, and when doing so did not venture 
 to put his feet inside. After a moment the Dessauer exclaimed, 
 ' Pigberd, draw in your paws ; do you think mine are made of 
 almond cake ? '" 
 
 In addition to the Protestant main line of the House of Hohen- 
 
-tj-i Germany, Fvuen and Past. 
 
 zollern whi h occupies the throne of Prussia, and which was 
 Calvinist, there are two Lutheran lines, those of Baireuth and of 
 Anspach, founded by the Elector John George, who died in 1598. 
 George William, Margrave of Baireuth, was born in 1678, and 
 married Sophia of Saxe-Weissenfels, when she was only just fifteen ; 
 a princess of extraordinary beauty but of infamous morals. George 
 William of Baireuth and Sophia exhibited German court life in 
 the eighteenth century in its full extravagance. The hermitage 
 cf Baireuth, afterwards so admired and extolled by Jean Paul, 
 and still an object of curiosity to the visitor, was erected by the 
 Margrave in 1715. It lies about three miles from Baireuth. It 
 is said to have cost 2,000,000 gulden. The Temple of the Sun 
 in it, an imitation in miniature of St. Peter's Church at Koine, 
 alone cost 100,000 gulden. 
 
 The hermitage has a chateau, with gardens, and a beautiful park. 
 In the latter, which goes down to the Main, were erected a multi 
 tnde of pavilions, without external symmetry, the cells of the 
 hermits looking outside like piles of timber, but comfortably and 
 even luxuriously fitted up within. The Margrave was superior, and 
 liis wife mistress of the order. When they arrived at the hermit- 
 age, all the members of the society appeared in their habits. At 
 fixed hours the brothers and sisters paid each other visits in their 
 everal cells, and were given collations. The order was subject to 
 rules from which none were dispensed without the permission of 
 the grand master or mistress. In the evening they all assembled 
 in the hall of the castle or Temple of the Sun for supper. This 
 litter was fantastically decorated with rock crystals, shells, and 
 coloured stones. At meal time a brother hermit read a verse or a 
 tale he had composed ; and when this was concluded, all broke out 
 into comment, and jest. A ball concluded the entertainment. No 
 one could enter the order who had not been elected by the chapter. 
 Part of the chateau of the hermitage was furnished in Chinese 
 fashion. The pillars of the Temple of the Sun Avere of striked 
 foreign marbles. Everywhere in the alleys of the park were 
 ruined castles. On one occasion an artificial ruin actually tumbled 
 d iwn on some people and buried them alive. In a bower was the 
 marble monument of the cb-g of the Margravine, in such bad taste 
 that Count Putbus remarked of it, " Tombeau de chien, chien de 
 tombeau." The Margravine of Baireuth, the favourite sister of 
 
Culture. 4C5 
 
 Frederick the Great, and the wife of George William's successor, 
 has left rxs in her " Memoirs " a lively but revolting picture of the 
 society in this court. The Margravine Sophia carried her gal- 
 lantries to such a pass of shamelessness, that the Margrave was at 
 length obliged to consign her to prison in the Plassenburg. The 
 ])uchess of Orleans says in one of her letters, dated May 8, 1721 : 
 " The Margrave of Baireuth and his wife are a crazy pair. L'esprit 
 fie vertige reigns in this court and in the hermitage. It is nu 
 wonder that misery abounds in the principality, when the sove- 
 reign of the land cares nothing fur his duties, and has no regai d 
 for justice. If they have any fear of God, then, verily, they are 
 fools in folio, and know not what they do." The Margravine 
 Wilhelmina thus describes the Margravine Sophia : — " In her 
 youth she was lovely as an angel, but she never lived happily 
 with her husband. She may be numbered with the famed women 
 of antiquity, for she was in her morals the Lai's of her age. No 
 one attributed to her great good sense. When I saw her in 1732, 
 she was aged forty-eight; she was stout and well-shaped, her face 
 rather long, as was also her nose, which, however, disfigured her, 
 for it was red as a cherry ; her brown e} r es, with which she was 
 wont to lay down the law, were well formed but dull, with no 
 more sparkle in them. Her eyebrows were coal black — but then 
 they were, false. Her mouth, though large, was yet well moulded 
 and full of charm : she had teeth white as ivorv and like a row of 
 pearls ; but her skin, though clean, was quite withered. Conse- 
 quently she looked like an old worn-out theatrical prima donna, 
 and her manner gave one the same impression. Yet in spite of 
 all, she was still a handsome woman." Of the crimes of this 
 infamous woman, the gossiping Margravine Wilhelmina has plenty 
 to say, but they cannot be told here. 
 
 After the death of the Margrave (1726) she was released from 
 prison. She married, when she was fifty years old, Count Albert 
 of Hoditz, a Moravian nobleman, who was twenty two years her 
 junior. " As long as she had a halfpenny in her purse," writes 
 the Margravine, " her husband flattered her. She had to sell all 
 her clothes to meet his exactions, and then he deserted her, leaving 
 her in the direst poverty." She lived in Vienna generally despised, 
 and in want of the necessaries of life, upon the alms flung her by 
 the nobility, and there she died in 1750. 
 
 2 H 
 
 
100 C<ruuunj, Present a:i<l Fad. 
 
 The other Lutheran branch of the Hohenzollerns w.is that of 
 Anspach. Charles William Frederick became Margrave in 1729. 
 He was feared as a madman and a tyrant. In a fit of rage he 
 shot one of his huntsmen because he thought he had neglected 
 the dogs. A militia man was keeping guard before his palace. 
 The Margrave demanded his gun of him, and the man surrendered 
 it out of respect for his prince. The Margrave at once declared 
 him unworthy of bearing arms, had him bound to the tail of a 
 horse, and dragged about in the mud. The poor wretch received 
 such injuries that he died of them two months after. He intrusted 
 the administration of government to the family of Seckendorf, 
 and gave himself up to the pleasures of the chase and the society 
 of two mistresses. He was for some time completely guided by 
 a Jew, named Isaac Nathan, who practised financial swindling. 
 The little Margrave, wishing to bestow a great honour on the 
 ^,reat King of England, sent him the Eed Order of the Eagle set ' 
 with brilliants. The Jew, Ischerlein, who had an understanding 
 with Nathan, received the commission, and put paste in the place 
 .of diamonds. King George at once detected that the brilliants 
 were false, and took no notice of the present. An inquiry was 
 set on foot and the imposition was discovered. The Margrave 
 instantly sent for the Jew and for a headsman ; Ischerlein was 
 bound down to a chair, but no sooner did he see the executioner, 
 than, springing up, he ran, with the chair adhering to him, round 
 the long table occupying the middle of the hall, pursued by the 
 headsman, till the latter, encouraged by the Margrave, struck off 
 his head across the table. Nor did Nathan escape the Margrave's 
 wrath ; he was closely imprisoned, deprived of the whole of his 
 ill-gotten wealth, and in 1740 expelled the country. The Mar- 
 grave was passionately and extravagantly attached to the chase. 
 He had forty-seven officers and functionaries attached to his 
 falconry alone. When he was buried, a crowd of people attended 
 the funeral procession with growls of satisfaction. He died of 
 apoplexy brought on by a fit of passion. 
 
 I have given but a few examples of what the German courts 
 were in the eighteenth century. These be thy Gods, Israel ! It 
 was these which set the example to the citizens. These were the 
 nurseries and representative spots of culture ! They were rather 
 open sores, from which the resources of the land drained away ; 
 
Culture. 467 
 
 cesspools infecting the neighbourhood. In France there was but 
 one court — one Versailles ; in Germany there were over a hundred. 
 In the dissolute court of Louis XIV. and Louis XV. vice was at 
 least given a gloss and delicate colour. In England it was veiled 
 with some respect for decency. But in Germany vice was gross 
 and nude. Extravagance had been borrowed from France, but not 
 refinement. 
 
 In the history of culture, these little territories, with their 
 courts aping those of great sovereigns, were back-waters. Klein- 
 8tddlerei, as the niggling government of petty princes is called, 
 with its consequent narrow views and interests, place-hunting, and 
 stagnation of culture, has been the bane of Germany. " Till 
 recently," writes Dr. Vehse, " as long as the censorship of the press 
 existed, little or no details of the various maladministrations could 
 come out ; of late, however, many voices have been raised by trust- 
 worthy men, who have drawn the worst scandals to the light, and 
 have shown what has been going on in the various parts of Ger- 
 many. I allude only to what Eiehl has disclosed concerning 
 Nassau, Dr. Habech has said of Dessau, Dr. Fischer of Detmold. 
 If all the little German States have not borne as grotesquely bar- 
 barous a political character, and one so degraded in culture, as 
 Mecklenburg, for instance, yet in every one wretchedness is mani- 
 fest to the full. With the sole exceptions of Oldenburg and Keuss 
 all the little German States have been for long misgoverned, and 
 the results are only too painfully apparent to the present day. As 
 regards the mediatised principalities, there are few families which 
 can show such clean hands as the Protestant house of Stolberg- 
 Wernigerode and the Catholic house of Fugger." * 
 
 One main root of the evil that throve in the little States was 
 cliquedom. On this cancer, which still gnaws at the vitals of the 
 small States, and demoralises the whole constitution of society in 
 them, nothing can be quoted more to the purpose than the " Con- 
 fessions of Forty Years in the Life of a Physician," which appeared 
 at Leipzig in 1854. 2 It is now no secret that the description is of 
 Brunswick under Duke Frederick Augustus William Charles, who 
 died at Geneva in 1874; and that the writer was Dr. Lange, the 
 
 1 Vehse : Geschichte der Deutschen Ho/e, vol. xl. pp. 163-4. 
 
 2 Selbstbekenntnisse : oder vierzig Jahre a. d. Leben d. o/t-genannten Arztep 
 Leipz. 1st ed. 1851; 2nd, 1855. 
 
4G8 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 court physician. On the appearance of the " Memoirs," Dr. Klencke, 
 who had been a personal friend of Dr. Lange, and who was sup- 
 posed to have had a hand in giving the hook to the world, was 
 suddenly banished Brunswick. But though the description is that 
 of one little capital, it may be said to apply to all alike, as far as 
 it delineates the mode of administration, the cliquedom, and the 
 pettiness of these little principalities. 
 
 " It is easy to decide the inner character of a town at the first 
 glance, even without having seen the inhabitants. On entering 
 the capital in which I had to live, I saw at once, from the nature 
 of the houses and streets, that here a Kleinstadtlichen tone must pre- 
 vail. The streets wound about irregularly, and were of unequal 
 width ; the houses, mostly of timber and plaster, with old carved 
 beam-ends and Gothic dates, resembled a range of giants and 
 dwarfs, the chimney of one house often on a level with the first 
 story of the neighbour. In all the open spaces stood farmers' carts 
 like barricades, without horses or driver; the pavements were 
 swarming with children; human heads were at all the windows; 
 gaping, gossiping, or smoking people stood at every door. One 
 could see into the ground-floor rooms. The soap-boilers had their 
 horn lanterns; the linen-weavers had hung their linen to dry on 
 lines in front of their houses ; the smiths and coopers worked in 
 the street before their doors; cattle were driven up and down, in 
 and out. Every cart that passed drew peering faces to the win- 
 dows, thick as tame trout rising to the surface for crumbs. In 
 many houses the owner lived on the ground floor, and all the upper 
 rooms were uninhabited. Only near the princely palace were there 
 handsome modern houses, showing that there lived the dignitaries 
 of the town. The external appearance of the place is typical of all 
 
 little capitals. 1 Count K explained a good deal of this to me. 
 
 Court life, said he, does not exist here. The gentry are without 
 estates, the bauers burdened with debt; the State receipts are 
 small, and the fancy of the prince to have many soldiers runs away 
 with so much money that there is little polite life possible. The 
 hio-hest civil officers affect no luxury ; the shopkeeper and the 
 trading citizens are those most well-to-do, and give the tone to 
 - society. Though they may live in tumble-down houses, they keep 
 
 1 Does not this description recall at once a score to the recollection of the 
 traveller I Donaueschingen, Aschaffenburg, Sondershausen, Kothen, Dessau, etc. 
 
Culture. 469 
 
 their carriages and horses, have plenty of money, and give large 
 parties. Consequently money is the supreme qualification of man. 
 Every one is valued by what capital he has in the bank or in busi- 
 ness. For this reason the gentry marry into citizen families, the 
 destitute aristocracy here form no class to themselves. TLe 
 military form the first rank among the subjects. 1 
 
 " The small States are the haunts of egoism and cliquedom. In 
 a small state and a capital, which veils its Kleinstddterei under an 
 appearance of high life, where Philistinism struts about in Paris 
 fashions and with Berlin airs, it is much harder for an independent 
 man with self-respect to maintain his place tlian in petty life 
 which does not affect to be anything but Philistinism. In a large 
 town men stand more apart, and a thousand different interests cross 
 one another, and families shift, influences are always changing, and 
 stiff old-fashioned formality or vulgarity is broken or softened by 
 foreign intercourse. The gay stream of manners and customs 
 among other nations rolls in, and overflows the old grit and mud of 
 aegs; social life receives an infusion of new life which refines it 
 of its coarseness. But in a provincial and residential capital, all 
 meanness, and commonness, and coarseness are ossified and made 
 part and parcel of society and family life. Old prejudices are in- 
 tensified and take firmer root, and throw up fresh suckers on all 
 sides, making a thick undergrowth of barbarism from which there 
 is no escape. Every man imbibes these sordid peculiarities in 
 early life like a sponge , squeeze him, and all life long nothing else 
 distils from him but pettinesses and vulgarities. The wretched- 
 ness of cliquedom throws its roots through the whole country, and 
 scatters its noxious seeds wherever there is soil where it can be 
 propagated. The egoism of one, which in a great town is kept in 
 check by the egoism of others, in a little town is converted into 
 family self-seeking. All princely residence towns in small terri- 
 tories are alike in this. 
 
 '• I soon made the experience that the sovereign did not rule the 
 land, except in name ; a citizen dynasty had arrived at unlimited 
 sovereignty, and occupied not only all city offices, with its relatives 
 and kinsmen, but, with the exception of the ministry, had in its 
 
 1 This is now universal, as will be seeu by what has been said in Chap. II. 
 The nobility have no position at court, apart from that they can claim on the r 
 military grade. 
 
470 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 hands every office and profession of every sort. The prince was a 
 soldier, he went about always in the uniform of his regiment of 
 cavalry, which was his pet creation and toy. He stood quite apart 
 from the civil life of his land, and ordered just what he was recom- 
 mended or told to do, without looking into anything. The ruling 
 d} r nasty thrust its people everywhere into the most influential and 
 lucrative situations, till every bureau and green table was sur- 
 rounded or occupied by blood relations playing into each other's 
 hands. 
 
 " The external form of government was maintained, but no one 
 regarded what was legal. Every petty official did what was right 
 in his own eyes ; the superior officials looked another way, as they 
 all acted on the principle of mutual accommodation. The reigning 
 citizen dynasty, with the full power of wide-extending, all-embrac- 
 ing nepotism, stood above law. All conscientious dischai-ge of 
 duties in office was looked on with disapproval ; an official who was 
 vexatiously honest was got rid of by the ruling coterie. 
 
 " Such family lordship over a land is only possible in a little 
 State. But although it is a feature of small principalities that 
 they should fall a prey to cliquedom, and remain for a long time 
 in the hands of a family of toadies, yet it is also a feature of them 
 that the sovereign power should now and then break loose, and 
 exert itself in a dictatorial and absolute manner. 
 
 " The prince lived without a family, in knightly bachelorhood, 
 without ever coming in contact with the softening influence of 
 noble women. His associates were only officers, horses, dogs, and 
 guns. Separated early from the wife who had been diplomatically 
 united to him, he had acquired no respect for women. All he 
 regarded in the other sex was their external graces. His chivalry, 
 and the proud sense of personal honour attached to it, served his 
 subjects as a guarantee that he would behave uprightly and justly 
 in his dealings with them. Such was the opinion of the educated. 
 But this very chivalry and high sense of honour separated the 
 prince entirely from his people, in whom he seemed to have no 
 interest, for he never troubled himself to inquire into their affairs, 
 and gave over the management of the State into the hands 
 of those men who were recommended to him by his surrounding 
 officials, and devoted his whole attention to military drill and 
 discipline. 
 
Culture. 471 
 
 "I had already learned from Count K that the prince had 
 
 no taste for literature and art; that he only patronised the theatre 
 as a pastime, and that he regarded no man of science as presentable 
 at his court. Every sub-lieutenant of nineteen took precedence over 
 the worthiest professor and councillor. 
 
 " What I had already been told of the character of the prince 
 relieved the impression made on me by my first reception. Step- 
 ping out of a crowd of adjutants, he received me, listened to my 
 thanks for his invitation to be the town physician with proud, cold 
 manner, looked at me for some time without speaking, and then, 
 without the least departure from his military bearing, said: 'Acting 
 on distinguished representations, I have taken the exceptional step 
 of summoning you to my residence. I expect of you pre eminent 
 efforts and paramount discharge of your duties. I remain yours.' 
 Then, with a wave of the hand, he dismissed me. He expected 
 no answer from me, but returned to his adjutants. No sooner was 
 I back in the palace square than the prince passed me, galloping 
 off surrounded by his circle of officers. 
 
 " The prince detested all petitions and appeals. He wanted to 
 know nothing about what went on in the country or the town, and 
 it almost seemed as if he were ashamed in his pride of the little 
 ancestral land ; at all events, he spent the greater part of the year 
 away from it, and wore the uniform of a general of the Hanoverian 
 army. Any one who did not wish to fall into disfavour avoided 
 troubling him with affairs of state. He was wont to rudely refer 
 those who mentioned such matters back to his boards of officials, 
 and to order that the person who had so annoyed him should be 
 
 denied further access to his person. Count K told me that I 
 
 only got my appointment through the direct expression of the will 
 of the prince and a fortunate combination of circumstances which 
 prevented the reigning coterie filling the vacancy with one of their 
 own people. 
 
 " The prince was a decided foe to all religious straitness 
 spiritual despotism, and mystic fanaticism. A tutor of his youth 
 had sufficiently indoctrinated him with rationalism for him not to 
 tolerate anything of this sort. There were no Sabbath restrictions 
 in the capital ; the pastors were to be seen on Sundays playing 
 cards in the taverns or drinking deep in clubs. During divine 
 service entertainments were given, hunts were carried on, military 
 
472 Ueriaantj, l J rtseut and Past. 
 
 parades were held. Much looseness in the morals and ideas of the 
 land was due perhaps to this general free-thinking." 
 
 Whilst the author was town physician, the prince met, at a 
 bathing resort, a Counters von M -, who was young and "beau- 
 tiful, lie made her his left-hand wife, and brought her to a 
 chateau a few miles from the capital, where he could visit her. 
 The writer of the " Memoirs " attended her during a confinement, 
 and was then appointed by the prince his court physician and the 
 general " Sanitary Councillor" of the land. He at once set to work 
 to reform the medical profession and practice in it. He found that 
 the legulations were more than one hundred and fifty years old, and 
 treated of " tooth-drawers, worm doctors, snake and frog catchers," 
 and that the profession in the principality was represented by a 
 pack of ignorant quacks. 
 
 The medical reform was frustrated by a court revolution, of 
 which the author gives the following account: — " The prince, who 
 had hitherto amused himself only with hunting and soldiering, 
 got tired of these hobbies and looked out for a change. He must 
 also have tired of his favourite countess, who lived with her 
 mother and brother at ' Wolfsforst,' * for he dismissed her, under- 
 took a journey to Italy, and amazed his little capital on his return 
 with opera and ballet corps. In Vienna he had made the ac- 
 quaintance of a ballet-girl, with whom he fell desperately in love ; 
 and now all his passion for soldiers was converted into one for 
 caperers on the boards of a theatre. He wanted not only to love 
 his favourite, but to see her dance, so a whole company was 
 engaged to assist her in the ballet, and the coquette played her 
 cards so well that she completely ensnared her princely admirer, 
 and in a very short while became the regent of the land. 
 
 " I at once felt the consequence of the altered relations, for 
 suddenly it was announced that the dentist Martinelli was ap- 
 pointed court physician and medical councillor, with piivilege of 
 presentation at court. 
 
 " That the favourite dancing-girl had a hand in this was not 
 doubtful, I suspected at first; but I soon found that my worst 
 fears were not exaggerated. Martinelli had been a goldsmith's 
 assistant at Prague, where he had made the acquaintance of the 
 ballet-dancer, and had followed her to Vienna, and there sponged 
 
 1 Really Wolfenbuttel. 
 
Cidtwre. 473 
 
 on her. She supplied liitn with money to attend Carabelli's 
 lectures in the university, and to buy the title of ' Doctor in 
 Surgery.' She must have been warmly attached to him ; she pre- 
 tended to the prince that ho was her half-brother, and on this 
 ground got his appointment. The prince himself suffered from 
 nothing worse than corns, and could not wear his boots. The 
 dancing-girl recommended her pretended brother, who, without 
 much difficulty, extracted the corns, and was thereupon promoted 
 to my place." 
 
 But the dancing-girl was only Martinelli's means to an end. 
 She fell into disfavour, but he planted himself deeper in the 
 prince's regard. In half a year the dentist was elevated to be 
 opera superintendent. The medicinal reform was left unearned 
 out, the cliques of the town recovered their hold of the rudder, and 
 the author of these curious "Memoirs" left the town to be pro- 
 fessor in an university. 
 
 Despotic power is a dangerous instrument in the hands of one 
 emperor ; it is far more dangerous when lodged with a host of 
 little magnates. Prince Frederick Christian of Schaumbur»- 
 Lippe was a good marksman, and he delighted in playing the 
 William Tell with his subjects. He would lie in waiting at the 
 window of one of his hunting-lodges, or of his palace, wiih his 
 gun, watching to see a child or a woman cross the street or go to 
 the fountain with a pitcher on the head. Then crack went the 
 gun, and the vessel flew into pieces, deluging the bearer with 
 water or milk. Once, however, he shot a man through the body. 
 He saw something moving behind a bush, and fired from his 
 window at it. The Pastor Biisching remonstrated with the prince. 
 " The old fellow is right," said the Nimrod, when Biischim>- left ; 
 " I have sinned against God and my people. I trust I shall be 
 forgiven." 
 
 King Frederick William I. of Prussia used to argue that it was 
 Scriptural for a sovereign to have absolute command over his 
 people, for Scripture gives him lordship over " menservants and 
 maidservants, young men and asses." In the exercise of this 
 divine right he collected tall guardsmen where he could and how 
 he could. One of his recruiting officers, Baron von Hompesch, 
 cast his eyes on a strapping carpenter at Jiitich, and coveted him 
 for the guard of the king. To get him he had recourse to an 
 
474 Germany, Present and Past. 
 
 artifice. He ordered a long box of him. The carpenter made and 
 brought it. The baron said it was too short. The man, to show 
 how long it was, laid himself down in it. Hompesch's men at 
 once screwed down the lid, and sent the recruit to the King of 
 Prussia. He received the man — but dead. It had been forgotten 
 that he could not breathe in a close case. 
 
 In Osnabruck, under Frederick Duke of York, the second son 
 of George III., who, when six months old, was created Protestant 
 bishop of the diocese, a socman was condemned to draw the plough 
 for life for having ventured to strike a steward of the bishop who 
 had taken from him his affianced bride, and given her to another. 
 Charles William of Nassau beat a peasant to death with his own 
 hand who was accused to him of poaching. 
 
 Ernest Augustus of Saxe-Weimar in 1736 forbade his subjects 
 " reasoning under pain of half a year at the treadmill." 
 
 The Count-Palatine Charles of Zweibriicken resided at Carls- 
 berg, where he kept fifteen hundred horses, and a still greater 
 number of cats and dogs, and collected the heads of meerschaum 
 and clay pipes to the number of over a thousand. He issued a 
 decree that every one coming in sight of his palace should uncover 
 his head till out of sight. A foreigner, ignorant of the law, was on 
 one occasion nearly beaten to death for not removing his hat. 
 
 It is unneressary to continue the list of crimes, follies, and 
 extravagances of the little German courts. Enough has been 
 shown to let the reader judge whether they were conducive to 
 general culture or not. 
 
 The princes, seeking to establish their despotism, were obliged 
 to get rid of the nobility, who formed an estate in their petty 
 realms, and in the Diets constantly opposed the extension of their 
 sovereign power. Menzel says : " War, the headsman's axe, and 
 emigration almost entirely exterminated the old free-spirited 
 nobility. Here and there only might a gentleman be found living 
 on his estate. Their place was taken by foreign adventurers. 
 The example* set by Austria was followed by the other German 
 courts, and the families of ancient nobility were forced to admit to 
 their rank unworthy creatures — the favoured mistresses of the 
 princes and their offspring." 
 
 The revolution of 1848 completed the ruin of the gentry. The 
 princes lent a hand to consummate their destruction, not then to 
 
Cult are 47^ 
 
 establish themselves as despots, but to stave off their own ruin. 
 The gentleman has therefore disappeared in Germany as a class. 
 He has no political rights, no social position, different from the 
 burger. The latter is now the representative man. He is wealthy ; 
 the gentleman poor. He has acquired his wealth by scraping 
 money together, by screwing down home expenses, and holding 
 his workmen's noses inflexibly to the grindstone. He has made 
 himself by pushing. He has trodden his way, regardless whom 
 he jostles and on whose corns he treads. i3uch a man is useful, but 
 he is not ornamental; valuable, but disagreeable. The market, 
 not the drawing-room, is his proper sphere ; men, not women, his 
 proper associates. He may spend his money on works of art — this 
 is most exceptional — but he cannot buy culture. Most of his gold 
 goes in eating and drinking. His house is badly furnished. His 
 wife and daughters, slipshod, in nightcaps and petticoats, ramhle 
 about the rooms till noon, and then blaze for an hour or two in 
 gaudy attire, put on with a pitchfork. Philistinism, not chivalry, 
 is the characteristic of German society, because the burger has 
 risen to the top and overspread the surface of society. Culture can 
 no more be had for money than could spiritual gifts be purchased 
 by Simon Magus. It may be acquired by one not born to it; but 
 then it must be acquired in early life, or the twang of the old tongue 
 remains. The haunt of all German men — his " Lokal " — is the 
 last place where it may be learned. If he could but wrench him- 
 self from his club or tavern, and spend his evenings at home, he 
 would become less loud in talk, more con.--iderate of women, less 
 uncouth, and more disinterested. His Philistinism would dis- 
 appear; it would thaw under the genial warmth of his wife and 
 daughters, and the vernal flowers of culture would shoot out of the 
 rugged- soil. 
 
 On the separation of sexes I have said so much, that I do not 
 think it necessary to do more here than quote the words of a 
 Russian officer of distinction. 
 
 " In Germany men live very little at home, the majority prefer 
 spending their leisure in the tavern, or in the club, to devoting it 
 to their family at home. The German hates restraint; seated 
 behind his mug of beer, with two or three boon companions, he 
 will pass long hours, lost in some interminable, philosophical dis- 
 cussion, in which, indeed, he is in his element. But, the more he 
 
47(i Germany, Present and J J ast. 
 
 feels at his ease in this society, and in this locality, the less com- 
 fortable he is when surrounded by ladies and in his home. He 
 looks on all social gatherings in which both sexes meet as a sort of 
 intolerable corvee, to which he must indeed submit once or twice 
 in the year, which the tyranny of circumstances imposes on every 
 master of a household. On such occasions, made solemn by their 
 rarity, the host thinks he is bound to surround his guests with all 
 the superfluities of pompous luxury, though in everyday life he 
 denies himself even rgdimentary comforts. Consequently, a 
 German detests an impromptu visitor. He likes to be informed 
 long before that a visit is intended, that he may prepare laboriously 
 for it; for to receive a friend without ceremony is regarded as 
 against all good manners. And, on the other hand, a visitor, how- 
 ever intimate he may be, would run the risk of being set down as 
 ignorant of the first principles of etiquette, were he to present 
 himself in the evening, or at dinner time, uninvited." 1 
 
 In England every country house and parsonage has been a 
 quiet nursery of gentility and purity. In Germany there are few 
 country houses, and the parsonages are occupied by families of 
 burger or bauer origin. The pastors are, with rare exceptions, 
 men of cultivated minds, men whom it is a pleasure to meet and 
 converse with. But their wives are of citizen class, gentle, 
 domestic women, but without the polish that is expected of the 
 parson's wife in England, and she and her husband are not 
 received into the best society. The pastor is poor, and has to 
 scramble on with a large family on a small income. He cannot 
 give his children a gentle education. 
 
 In England the hall and the rectory are on terms of intimacy. 
 The daughter of the parson not unfrequently becomes lady at the 
 hall, and the younger son of the squire is settled in the country 
 rectory. We, who live in England, have little idea of the influence 
 on culture possessed by the parsonage in our island. The young 
 ladies from it grow up active in good works, loving and caring for 
 the poor, looking after them in sickness, taking interest in the 
 school-girls, teaching the lads in night-schools, organising cottage- 
 garden shows and harvest festivals. And when they pass, as they 
 so often do, to country homes of their own, in the hall or rectory, 
 
 1 Baron v. Kaulhars, " Notes d'un Officier Kusse sur l'Arniee Allemande," in 
 Bulletin de la Reunion des Officiers, 1877. 
 
Culture. 477 
 
 fchcy cany with them their sympathy for those beneath them, and 
 are in their generation fountains of light, stars beaming down into 
 dark hearts, and making them twinkle with smiles. It has been 
 my fate to be for some years in ptrishes without resident gentry, 
 and where there have never been resident incumbents. The moral 
 and social condition of these parishes is dark indeed compared to 
 that where hall and rectory were ever influencing farmhouse and 
 cottage. 
 
 I have seen the rudest village bumpkins humanised by a winter 
 night-school conducted by the rector's daughters — not humanised 
 only, but made gentle and chivalrous. 
 
 The rectory party and those in the hall are on familiar and 
 often affectiona'e terms. There is no perceptible difference in 
 culture between them ; indeed, one family by birth and bringing 
 up is as good as the other. The parsonage interests the hall in 
 the matters of the parish, and so all classes meet in general 
 sympathy and exchange of kindlinesses, and in so doing react on 
 on one another ; the poor receive light from above, and in return 
 give back what is as precious — the feeling of that to which so ugly 
 a name has been given — human solidarity, but which in Christian 
 parlance is real charity. The rich knows the poor not by the out- 
 side only, but is acquainted with his wants, his shortcomings, his 
 temptations, and seeks to help him, at least to make allowance for 
 his deficiencies. Philistinism begins with dissociation of man from 
 man, and class from class. 
 
 
 [UNIVERSITY, 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 As it has been impossilile for me to deal otherwise than briefly with many subjects 
 of great importance, which hardly admit of compression into the limited space 
 allotted them, I subjoin the titles of books, for the benefit of those who desire to 
 pursue any of the subjects. 
 
 Chapters I. & II.— THE NOBILITY. 
 
 Lohmeier, J. G. Genealogische Beschreibung der vornehmsten Chur- und 
 
 fiirstlichen H'auser in Deutschland. Folio. Tubingen, 1695. 
 Moltke. De Matrimonio Nobilis cum Ignobili. 4to. Kostock, 1707. 
 Biirgermeider, J. S. Des Reichs- Adels d. dreyen "Ritter-Craysen in Schwaben 
 Franken und am Rheinstrom Iramedietat-Priirogativen. 4to. Ulm 1709. 
 Bericht vom Adel in Deutschland. 4to. Frankfurt, 1721. 
 Bur germeister, J. S. Graven- und Ritter-Saal'. 4to. Ulm, 1715, 1721. 
 Riccii, Ch. G. Zuveilassiger Entwurf von dem lundsassigen Adel in Deutsch- 
 land, dessen Ursprung, Alter, iSchuldigkeiten, Reckte, &c. 4to. Niirnberg 
 1735. 
 Schulenberg. De Privileges ac Prserogativis Nobilium Mediatorum in Germania. 
 
 4to. Vitemberg, 1746. 
 Semler. De Ministerialibus. 4to. Altdorf, 1751. 
 
 Dulssecker, J. F. Commentatio Juris Publici de Matrimoniis Personarum 
 Illustrium in Tmnerio Romano Germanico. Nostris " Von den Vermaklun<>-en 
 derer Standspersonen in Teutsckland." Jena, 1760. 
 Ploennies. De Ministerialibus, " Von dem Zustand des nieder. Adels in 
 
 Tuutstliland." 4to. Jena, 1757. 
 Von d. Geschlecktsadel u. d. Erneuerung des Adels. 8vo. Leipzig, 1778. 
 Versuch einer pragmat. Geschichte der Lehen, aus den Zeiten vor der 
 Errichtung d. fr'ankischen Monarchic bis zur Erloschung d. karolingischen 
 Stammes in Deutschland. 8vo. Frankfurt, 1785. 
 Vulaure, J. A. Kritische Geschichte des Adels, worinn seine Vorurtheile, seine 
 R'aubereien und Verbrechen aufgedecket werden. 8vo. (without place or 
 publisher), 1792. 
 Kotzebue. Vom Adel. 8vo. Leipzig, 1792. 
 
 Behberg, A. W. Ueber den deutschen Adel. 8vo. Gottingen, 1803. 
 Wedekind, Frh. v. Das Werth des Adels und die Anspriiche des Zeitgeistes 
 auf Verbesserung d. Adelsinstituts. Svo. Darmstadt, 1816. 
 
4^0 Appendix. 
 
 De la Motte-Fouque* u. F. Perthes. Etwas iibcr den deutschen Adel. 8vo. 
 
 Hamburg, 1819. 
 Giihrum, Ch. G. Gesehichtliehe Darstellung der Lelire v. d. Ebenbiirtigkeit, 
 
 nacb gemeinem deutschen Kcchte. 8vo. Tubingen, 184G. 
 Slrantz. Geschichte d. deutschen Adds. 8vo. Breslau, 1S45. 
 YaUqmff, C. Die teutsehcn Standesherren. 2 vols. 8vo. Mainz, 1851. 
 Yehse, E. Gescbicbte der kleinen deutscben Hofe : die Hofe der Mediatisirten. 
 
 5 vols. 8vo. Hamburg, 185G-9. 
 Fischer, L. H. Der teutsche Adel in der Vorzeit, Gegenwart und Zukunft. 2 
 
 vols. 8vo. Frankfurt, 1852. 
 Both v. Schreckenstein, Frh. C. H. Das Patriziat in den deutscben St'adten. 
 
 8vo. Tubingen, 1856. 
 Kneschbe. Deutsche Grafenhauser der Gegenwart. 3 vols. Svo. Leipzig, 
 
 1859-60. 
 Kiihm, F. J. Ueber den Ursprung und das Wesen des Feudalismus. Svo. 
 
 Berlin, 1869. 
 
 Chapter III -THE LAWS OF SUCCESSION. 
 
 Knipfichiltii, Fh. Tractat. de Fideicommissis Familiar. Nobil. vulgo " Stamm- 
 
 giitern." 4to. Colon. 1715, 1750. 
 ]l<ck. De Licita Majoratum et Fideicommissorum Familiarum Nobilium 
 
 Alienatione. 4to. Altdorf, 1750. 
 ffersemeier, H. De Pactis Gentilitiis Familiarum Illustr. atque Nobilium 
 
 Germanise, vulgo " Von den in der Privatfamilien-Gesetzgebungsfreiheit 
 
 hauptsachl. begriindett-n Haus- u. Stammverti'agen d. deutscben Adels." 
 
 4to. Mogunt, 1788. 
 fi'uiz. Ueber Familiengesetze des di iitschen Adels, welche nicbt standesver- 
 
 massige Verm'ahlungen untersagen. Svo Frankfurt, 1792. 
 Moshamrn, Frh. A. Entwicklung d. recbtl. Verh'altuisse d. deutschen Ge- 
 
 schlechts-Fideicommissen. Svo. Miincben, 1816. 
 Salza, G. v. und Licliteuau. Die Lehre von Familien-, Stamm- und Gescblecbts- 
 
 Fidcicommissen. Svo. Leipzig, 1838. 
 Zimmerle, L. Das deutsche Stamm gutssystem nach seinem Ursprunge und s. 
 
 Verlaufe. 8vo. Tubingen, 1857. 
 Kraut, W. Th. Die Vonnundsehaft nach den Grunds'atzen des deutschen 
 
 Recbts. 3 vols. Svo. Gottingen, 1859. 
 Arnold. Zur Gescbicbte des Eigenthums in der deutschen St'adten. 8vo. Basel, 
 
 1861. 
 Schroder, R. Geschichte d. ehelichen Giiterrechts in Dcutschland. 3 vols. 8vo. 
 
 Stettin, 1 863-74. 
 Schnlze, E. Das Erb- und Familienrecbt im Mittelalter. Svo. Halle, 1871. 
 A ntira, K. v. Erbenfolge und Verwandtschaftsgliederung nach den alten nieder- 
 
 deutschen Rechten. 8vo. Miincben, 1874. 
 SchrSder, R. Das eheliche Giiterrecht Deutschlauds in Vergangenheit, Gegen- 
 wart und Zukunft. 8vo. Berlin, 1875. 
 Wit.mann, Th. Das Erbrecbt im Bereiche der preusfischen Monarchie in seinen 
 
 Grundziigen dargestellt. Svo. Berlin, 1875. 
 
Appendix. 481 
 
 Lammers. Die Erbfolge auf Bauerhofen, in Faucher's Vierteljahrsschrift fur 
 
 Volkswirthschaft. Pt. IX. Berlin, 1875. 
 Scheel, H. Eigenthum und Erbrecht. Berlin, 1877. 
 
 Chapter IV.— PEASANT PROPRIETORS. 
 
 Autenrieth. Ueber Vertrennung der Bauerngtiter. 8vo. Stuttgart, 1779. 
 Schtiz, C. W. Ch. Ueber den Einfluss der Vertheilung des Grundeigenthums auf 
 
 das Volk- und Staatsleben. 8vo. Stuttgart, 1836. 
 Maurer, G. L. Einleitung zur Geschichte der Mark-, Hof- und Dorfverfassung. 
 
 8vo. Erlangen, 1856. 
 Becker. Die Almende. 8vo. Basel, 1868. 
 Roscher, W. Nationalokonomik des Ackerbaues. 7th edit. 8vo. Stuttgart, 
 
 1873. 
 Lehnert, E. Ueber die gegenwartige Eintheilung der Grundstiicke in Deutsch- 
 
 land. 8vo. Leipzig, 1874. 
 
 Chapter V.— MARRIAGE. 
 
 Schulte, J. F. Handbuch des katholischen Eherechts. Giessen, 1855. 
 Friedberg, E. Das Recbt der Eheschliessung in seiner geschichtiichen Entwick- 
 
 lung. Leipzig, 1865. 
 Friedberg, E. Die Geschichte der Civilehe. Berlin, 1870. 
 Eah, K. Die Ehe und das biirgerliche Standesamt nach badischem Rechte. 
 
 Heidelberg, 1872. 
 Knopp, N. Vollstandiges Eherecht. Regensburg, 1873. 
 Schroder; B. Geschichte des ehelichen Giiterrechts. Stettin, 1874. 
 Baron, J. Das Heirathen in alten und neuen Gesetzen. Berlin, 1874. 
 Stblzel, A. Eheschliessungsrecht. Berlin, 1874. 
 Stdlzel, A. Deutsches Eheschliessungsrecht. Berlin, 1876. 
 Holder, E. Die romische Ehe. Zurich, 1874. 
 Sohm, R. Das Recht der Eheschliessung. Weimar, 1875. 
 Friedberg, E. Verlobung und Trauung ; zugleich als Kritik von Sohm, Das 
 
 Recht der Eheschliessung. Leipzig, 1876. 
 Sicherer, H. Ueber Eherecht und Ehegerichtsbarkeit in Bayern. Miinchen, 
 
 1875. 
 Hinscius. Das Reichsgesetz iiber die Beurkundung des Personenstandes und die 
 
 Form der Eheschliessung, mit Commentar. Berlin, 1875. 
 Kletke, C. M. Gesetz iiber die Eheschliessung in deutschen Reiche. 3rd edit. 
 
 Berlin, 1875. 
 Scheuerl, Adj. Die Entwicklung d. Mrchlichen Eheschliessungsrechts. Erlangen, 
 
 1877. 
 Einsiedel, H. v. Die Verheirathung ohne Einwilligung der Eltern oder des Vor* 
 
 munds. Leipzig, 1878. 
 
 2i 
 
482 Appendix. 
 
 Chapter VI.— WOMEN. 
 
 Meiners, C. Geschichte des weiblichen Geschlechts. Hannover, 1788-1800. 
 Geist. Sitten und Character der Weiber in den verschiedenen Zeitaltern. 
 
 Chemnitz, 1793. 
 Munch, E. v. Margariten : Frauencharaktere aus 'alterer u. neuerer Zeit. Cann- 
 
 stadt, 1840. (Unfinished.) 
 Jung, G. Geschichte der Frauen. Erster [and only] Theil (die Unterdriickung 
 
 der Frauen und ihre allm'ahlige Selbstbefreiung bis zur Erscheinung des 
 
 Christenthums. Frankfurt, 1850. 
 Weinhold, K. Die deutschen Frauen in dem Mittelalter. Wien, 1851. 
 Diintzer, H. Frauenbilder aus Goethe's Jugendzeit. Stuttgart, 1S52. 
 Weimar and its Celebrities, in '' Westminster Review." 1859. 
 Klarum, G. Die Frauen : culturgeschichtliche Schilderungen des Zustandes 
 
 und Einflusses der Frauen in den verschiedenen Zonen und Zeitaltern. 
 
 Dresden, 1859. 
 Wiese. Die Stellung der Frauen im Alterthum und in d. christlich. Zeit. 
 
 Berlin, 1854. 
 Scherr, J. Geschichte der deutschen Frauenwelt. 3rd edit. Leipzig, 1873. 
 
 Chapter VII.— EDUCATION. 
 
 Horace Mann. Educational Tour in Europe. English edit. London, 1846. 
 Heppe, H. Geschichte des deutschen Volksschulwesens. Gotha, 1859. 
 Education Commission : Reports of the Assistant Commissioners appointed to 
 
 Enquire into the State of Popular Education in Continental Europe. Vol. 
 
 IV. London, 1860. 
 Arnold, M. Higher Schools and Universities in Germany. London, 1874. 
 Laas, E. Gymnasium und Rerdschule. Berlin, 1875. 
 Kehr, C. Geschichte der Methodik d. deutschen Volksscliulunterrichtes. Gotha, 
 
 1878. 
 Laacke, K. C. F. Schulgesetzsammlung. Leipzig, 1878. 
 Schultze, G. V. Das deutsche Reich u. die Bildung der Jugeud nach Entlassung 
 
 aus der Volksschule. Leipzig, 1878. 
 Steinbart, O. " Unsere Abiturienten." Berlin, 1878. 
 
 Grafe, H. Deutsche Volksschule, od. Burger u. Landschide, nebst eine Ge- 
 schichte der Volksschule. Jena, 1878. 
 Cauer, E. Die hoh're M'adchenschule u. die Lehrerinfrage. Berlin, 1878. 
 Giebe. Verordnungen betr. das gesammte Volksschulwesen in Preussen, nebst 
 
 ausfuhrlich. Lehrpl'anen fiir die 1. bis 6. klass. Volksschule. 3rd edit. 
 
 Diisseldorf, 1878. 
 Jahresbericht der hoheren Burgerschule zu Karlsruhe fiir das Schuljahr 1877-78. 
 
 Karlsruhe, 1878. 
 Jahresbericht der st'adtischen hoheren Tochterschule in Karlsruhe fiir das 
 
 Schuljahr 1877-78. Karlsruhe, 1878. 
 Eagelgans, J. G. Orbis literatus Academ. Musarum Sedes, Societates, Univer- 
 
 sitates. Frankfurt, 1737. 
 Meiners, G. Geschichte der Entstehung und Entwickelung der hohen Schulen 
 
 unsres Erdtheils. Gottingen, 1802-5. 
 
Appendix. 483 
 
 Kuchhiiuser, J. Erinnerungen aus d. hochstmerkwiirdigen Lebensgcschichte 
 
 eines Studenten. Solothurn, 1848. 
 Tholuck, A. Das akademische Lcben d. 17. Jahrhunderts. 2nd edit. Halle, 
 
 18541 
 Meyer, J. B. Deutsche Universit'ats-Entwicklung. Berlin, 1875. 
 Helmholtz, H. Ueber die akademische Freiheit der deutschen Universit'aten. 
 
 Berlin, 1878. 
 Deutscher Universitats-Kalender. Berlin, twice annually. 
 
 Chapter VHL— THE AKMY. 
 
 Notes d'un OfEcier russe sur l'Arme'e allemande, in " Bulletin de la Reunion 
 
 des Officiers," Paris, 1877, Nos. 13-49; 1878, Nos. 2,5. (German officers 
 
 have assured me that this is the best account of their army organization 
 
 that has appeared.) 
 Egidy. Die Dienstverh'altnisse der Mannschaften d. Beurlaubtenstandes, ein- 
 
 schliesslich der Rekruten u. Ersatzreservisten. 5th edit. Bautzen, 1878. 
 Haber, R. v. Die Cavalerie des deutschen Reiches. Hannover, 1S78. 
 Witte. Das Ausbildungsjahr bei der Fussartillerie. Berlin, 187S. 
 Biitow. Die kaiserliche deutsche Marine. Berlin, 1878. 
 Dilthey. Militarischer Dienstunterricht fur einj'ahrige Freiwillige, Reserve- 
 
 Offizieraspiranten u. Offiziere d. Beurlaubtenstandes der deutschen Infanterie. 
 
 10th edit. Berlin, 1878. 
 Eintheiluug u. Standquartiere des deutschen Reichsheeres. Berlin, 1878. 
 Poten, B. Handworterbuch der gesammten Militarwissenschaften. Bielefeld, 
 
 1878. 
 Niemann. Militar-Handlexicon. 3 vols. Stuttgart, 1877-78. (A capital 
 
 book.) 
 Kirchner, G. Lehrbuch d. Milit'ar-Hygiene. Stuttgart, 1877. 
 Roth u. Lex. Handbuch der Milit'ar-Gesundheitspflege. 2 vols. Berlin, 1875. 
 Militair-Encyclopadie, allgemeine. Herausgegeben uud bearbeitet v. e. Verein 
 
 deutscher Offiziere. Leipzig, 1878. 
 Milit'ar-Gtsetze d. deutschen Reichs. Berlin, 1878. 
 Buschbeck-Helldorff. Feld-Taschenbuch fur Officiere aller Waffen der deutschen 
 
 Armee zum Kriegs- und Friedensgebrauch. 4th edit. 1878 . 
 
 This list might be greatly extended. 
 
 Chapter IX.— THE STAGE. 
 
 Devrient, E. Geschichte der deutschen Schauspielkunst. Leipzig, 1848. 
 Deutscher Biihnen-Almanach. Berlin. Appears annually. 
 Brachvogel, A. E. Geschichte d. konigl. Theaters zu Berlin. Berlin, 1878. 
 Gene'e, R. Das deutsche Theater und die Reform-Frage. Berlin, 1878. 
 Kiir8chner, J. Jahrbuch fur das deutsche Theater. Leipzig, 1878. 
 
4S4 Appendix. 
 
 Chapter X.— THE KULTURKAMPF. 
 
 It is unnecessary to give a list of the innumerable pamphlets the Kulturkampf 
 has given birth to. 
 
 An abstract of the laws affecting the Catholic Church in Germany, in a 
 compendious form, will be found in — 
 
 Die preussische-deutsche Kirchengesttzgebung seit 1871 : vollst'andige Samm- 
 lung der auf den Kirchenconflict in Preussen und Deutschland beziiglichen 
 Staatsgesetze und wichtigeren ministerielleu Erlasse. 2nd edit. Minister, 
 1876. 
 
 Chapter XI.— PROTESTANTISM. 
 
 Dewar, Rev. E. H. German Protestantism. Oxford, 1844. 
 
 Laing, S. Notes on the " German Catholic Church." London, 1845. 
 
 Laing, S. Notes of a Traveller on the Social and Political State of Italy, France, 
 
 and Germany during the Nineteenth Century. London, 1842. 
 Religious Thought in Germany. Reprinted from the " Times." London, 1870. 
 The Protestant Church in Prussia, in the " Foreign Church Chronicle," 1878 
 
 and 1879. 
 
 Of German books and pamphlets the number precludes their being quoted, 
 but the following deserves mention as containing annual information concerning 
 the events that have taken place in the Evangelical Churches of Germany :— 
 
 Mathes. Kirchliche Chronik. Herausgegeben von Pfarrer Werner in Gruben. 
 Altona (annually). 
 
 Chapter XII.— THE LABOUR QUESTION. 
 
 Bamberger, Lud. Die Arbeiterfrage unt. d. Gesichtspunkte d. Vereinsrechtes. 
 
 Stuttgart, 1873. 
 Bohmert, Vict. Der Socialismus u. die ArbeiteTfrage. Ziirich, 1872. 
 Biefenbach, R. J. Ueber die Arbeiterfrage. Stuttgart, 1872. 
 Stahl, Fr. W. Die Arbiterfrage sonst und jetzt. Berlin, 1872. 
 Felix, Ludw. Die Arbeiter und die Gesellschaft : eine culturgeschichtliche 
 
 Studie. Leipzig. 1874. 
 SicMnger, C. Das alte Zunftwesen und die moderne Gewerbefreiheit. Kirch- 
 
 heim, 1875. 
 Berliner, Adf. Die Lage d. deutschen Handwerkerstandes. Hannover, 1877. 
 
 Chapter XIII.— SOCIAL DEMOCRACY. 
 
 Marx, K. Das Kapital : Kritik der polit. Oekonomie. 2nd edit. Hamburg, 
 
 1872. (Incomplete.) 
 Contzen, H. Die sociale Frage, ihre Geschichte und ihre Bedeutung in der 
 
 Gegenwart. 2nd edit. Berlin, 1872. 
 
Appendix. 485 
 
 Dannenberg, J. F. H. Das deutsche Handwerk und die sociale Frage. Leipzig 
 
 1872. 
 Jiiger, Eug. Der moderae Socialismus : Karl Marx, die intertiationale Arbeiter- 
 
 Association, Lassalle und die deutsclien Socialisten. Berlin, 1873. 
 Schultze-Delitzsch. Die Genossenschaften in einzeluen Gewerbszweigen. Leip- 
 zig, 1873. 
 Schiiren, N. Die Katheder-Socialisten. Berlin, 1873. 
 Schiire7i, N. Zur Losung der sociale Frage. 2nd edit. Berlin, 1873. 
 Frbbel, Jul. Die Wirthschaft d. Menschengescblechtes auf dem Standpunkte 
 
 der Einheit idealer und realer Interessen. I. und II. Die Privatwirthschaft 
 
 und die Volkswirthscbaft. Berlin, 1874. III. Die Staats wirthschaft. 
 
 Berlin, 1876. 
 Lassalle, Ferd. Zur Arbeiterfrage. 6th edit. Braunschweig, 1875. 
 Lassalle, Ferd. Arbeiterlesebuch. Braunschweig, 1873. 
 Lassalle, Ferd. Arbeiterprogramm. Braunschweig, 1874. 
 P/eil, Graf L. v. Losung der sociale Frage. Breslau, 1874. 
 Liihring, E. Kritische Geschichte der National-Oekonomie und des Socialismus. 
 
 2nd edit. Berlin, 1875. 
 Goltz, Th. v. Das Wesen und die Bedeutung der deutschen Socialdemokratie. 
 
 Leipzig, 1875. 
 Treitschke, H. Der Socialismus und seine Gonner. Berlin, 1875. 
 Treitschke, der Socialistentodter, u. d. Endziele des Liberalismus : eine socialist. 
 
 Replik. Leipzig, 1875. 
 Diest-Daber, Otto v. Geldmacht und Socialismus. Berlin, 1875. 
 Bodbertus-Jagetzoic. Zur Beleuchtung der sociale Frage. Berlin, 1875. 
 Schuster, B. Die Socialdemokratie nach ihrem Wesen und ihrer Agitation 
 
 quellenmassig dargestellt. 2nd edit. Stuttgart, 1876. 
 Calberla, G. H. Sozialwissenschaftliches. 1. Hft. Karl Marx, " Das Kapital," 
 
 u. der heutige Sozialismus. Kritik einiger ihres Fundamentalsatze. Dresden, 
 
 1877. 
 Eitze, Fr. Die sociale Frage und die Bestrebungen zu ihrer Losung. Pader- 
 
 born, 1877. 
 Mehring, Fr. Die deutsche Socialdemokratie : ihre Geschichte und ihre Lehre. 
 
 2nd edit. Bremen, 1878. 
 Sch'dffle, A. Die Quintessenz des Sozialismus. 3rd edit. Gotha, 1878. 
 Kritik der " Quintessenz des Sozialismus " von Sckaffle, von einem praktischen 
 
 Staatsmann. Bielefeld und Leipzig, 1878. 
 
 Chapteb XIV.— CULTURE. 
 
 Math. Quad von Kinckelbach. Teutscher Nation. Herrlichkeit. Kolln, 1609. 
 Des Bauemstands und Wandels entdeckte Uebelsitten und Lasterproben. Osua- 
 
 biiick, 1713. 
 Hullmann, K. D. Stadtewesen des Mittelalters. Bonn, 1826. 
 Huscher. Skizze einer Culturgeschichte d. deutschen St'adte. Culmbach, 1808. 
 Gagern, H. (Jh. E. v. Lie Resultate der Sittengescuichte. 6 vols. I. Die 
 
 Fiirsten ; II. Aristokratie ; III. Demokratie ; IV. Politik ; V. VI. Freund- 
 
 echaft und Liebe. Stuttgart, 1822-37. 
 
48G Appendix. 
 
 Rauschnich. Das Biirgerthum und Stadtewesen der Deutschen im Mittelalter. 
 Dresden, 1829. 
 
 Rauschnich. Geschichte d. deutschen Adels. Dresden, 1836. 
 
 Rauschnich. Geschichte der deutschen Geistlichkeit im Mittelalter. Leipzig, 
 1836. 
 
 Vehse, Ed. Geschichte der deutschen HSfeseit der Reformation. 48 vols. Ham- 
 burg, 1851-60. 
 
 Norh, F. Die Sitten und Gebr'auche der Deutschen und ihrer Nachbarvolker. 
 Stuttgart, 1849. 
 
 Riehl, H. Culturstudien aus drei Jahrhunderten. Stuttgart, 1859. 
 
 Riehl, H. Die Familie. Stuttgart, 1861. 
 
 Riehl, H. Die burgerliche Gesellschaft. Stuttgart, 1861. 
 
 Riehl, II. Land und Leute. Stuttgart, 1861. 
 
 Freytag, Gust. Bilder aus d. deutschen Vergangenheit. Leipzig, 1860. 
 
 Kriegh, G. F. Deutsches Biirgerthum im Mittelalter. Frankfurt, 1868-71. 
 
 Scherr, J. Deutsche Kultur- und Sittengeschichte. 7th edit. Leipzig, 1878. 
 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Aachen, theatre at. 283 
 Aarau, Canton, 175, 313, 314 
 Abbess, Protestant, 299 
 Abiturient, 186 
 Abiturienten-Esaraen, 185 
 Acting, German, 284 
 Actors, German, 284, 285 
 Adam Puschmann, 251 
 Adel, meaning of, 3, 22, 26, 197 
 Adelsland, 52 
 Allmend, 75, 76 
 Allodification of land, 40, 41 
 Allodium nobile, 27 
 Alt-Kutholics, 311-315 
 Altona, theatre at, 284 
 Amelia of Weimar, 146-150 
 Ancestors, ennobled, 27, 28 
 Angelica Kauffmann, 170 
 Anglican Marriage Service, 105. 106 
 Anhalt-Dessau, house of, 12-20, 461- 
 
 463 
 Anspach, princes of, 36, 466 
 Are, a measure, 81 
 Aristocracy, its characteristics, 42 
 Aristocratic chapters, 55, 352 
 Arminius, 129 
 Army, statistics of, 240, 241 
 
 cost of, 241, 323 
 
 Arnim, Bettina von, 166, 167 
 Arrha, 99, 101 
 Augusta Busmann, 161 
 
 von Stolberg, 153 
 
 Augustus of Sax"ny, 448, 449 
 
 Aussteuer, 60, 61, 63 
 
 Austria, Baden sympathy with, 297, 
 
 298 
 
 Baden, Evangelical Church of, 367, 
 368 
 
 Liturgy, 368 
 
 Baireuth, court of, 464, 465 
 
 Bar, meaning of word, 3 
 
 Barons, 1, 26, 28, 36, 37, 45 
 
 Bathild, Queen, 134, 135 
 
 Bauer, the German, 94, 95 
 
 "Beamten" nobility, 5, 37, 311, 312 
 
 Benedix, 291 
 
 Bentheim, house of, 22, 56 
 
 Berlepsch, Emilie von, 159 
 
 Bertha, 139, 140 
 
 Bettiua von Arnim, 166, 167 
 
 Bigamy among princes, 447-449 
 
 Biland, attempt of, 353 
 
 Birch Pfeiffer, 288-290 
 
 Bishoprics, appropriated, 4, 295, 304 
 
 Bismarck, Count, 13 
 
 Bisula, a slave, 130 
 
 Borough-English (see Minorat), 68 
 
 Brachmann, Louise Caroline, 153 
 
 Brachvogel, 291 " 
 
 Breach of promise, 106, 107 
 
 Brentano, Clemens, 161-164 
 
 Brenz, his view of marriage, 113 
 
 Bride-capture, 96, 104 
 
 Brunehild, Queen, 136-139 
 
 Brunhild, 130, 140, 141 
 
 Brunswick, court of, 450, 467-473 
 
 Churoh, constitution of, 348 
 
 Sophie Charlotte of, 144, 145 
 
 Buckeburg, Count William of, 452 
 Burger, the poet, 160, 161 
 Burger, the German, 45, 475 
 Burger-Schule, 182-184 
 
488 
 
 Index. 
 
 Calvinism, decay of, 349 
 Canon-law on marriage, 107, 108 
 
 on property, 401-403 
 
 Capital, migration of, 395 
 
 misunderstood, 67, 68, 427 
 
 Centralisation, Prussian, 296, 297, 308 
 Charles the Bald, 61, 62 
 Charlotte von Kalb, 38, 158 
 
 von Stein, 154 
 
 Child follows inferior hand, 7 
 Children, proportion of, 87, 88 
 Christiane Vulpius, 154, 155 
 Church attendance, statistics of, 338- 
 
 341 
 Civil marriage, 97, 103, 104, 112, 113, 
 
 115, 116 
 
 registration, 97, 112, 113, 115, 
 
 116, 341 
 
 Class severance, 45, 46, 195, 196, 221, 
 
 426, 440 
 Clemens Brentano, 161-164 
 Clowns, English, 255 
 Code Napoleon, 39 
 Colleges, military, 234, 235 
 Comedians, English, 255 
 Community of wives, 424, 425 
 Confessional statistics, 300, 342, 343 
 Co-operative associations, 383-386, 4i2 
 Coronets, 35, 36 
 Corve'e, 31, 32 
 Counts, 3, 4 
 " Critique " in the army, 220, 226, 227, 
 
 240 
 Croaria family, 33 
 Croly (Dr.), opinion of the Germans, 
 
 439 
 Crypto-Calvinists, persecution of, 337 
 
 Dahn, Felix, 292 
 
 Dalberg, 15 
 
 Days of work, 382, 390 
 
 Degrees, University, 194 
 
 Deism, 356 
 
 Dissent, 311, 343 
 
 Divorce, 123-126 
 
 statistics of, 123-125 
 
 Divorced persons, remarriage of, 116 
 
 Dukes, 4 
 
 " Durchlaucht," title of, 19, 23 
 
 £ 
 
 Ebenbiirtigkeit, 2, 3, 6, 8, 11, 13, 23, 
 
 27, 44, 45 
 Ebleben, palace gardens at, 456 
 Eckhoff, the actor, 278-280 
 " Edler, Herr von," title of, 26, 28 
 Education of boys, 185 
 
 cheapness of, 184 
 
 " Ehre und Treue," 403, 404 
 
 Einjahrigers, 204, 228-231, 319 
 
 " Ekkehart" of Scheffel, 142 
 
 Electoral counts, 11 
 
 Elenson, 261 
 
 Entails, 42 
 
 Erbach family, 20 
 
 Erbe, 49 
 
 " Erlaucht," title of, 18 
 
 Errungenschaft, 49, 64 
 
 Esprit de corps, 234 
 
 Euryanthe, 100, 101 
 
 " Excellency," title of, 43 
 
 Exemptions, 28, 29 
 
 P 
 
 Fahrende Habe, 47 
 
 Familienpact, 59, 60 
 
 Familienrath, 59 
 
 Familienrecht, 404 
 
 Family, the, in German law, 404 
 
 Feldwebel, 213 
 
 Felix Dahn, 292 
 
 Feudal system, 30, 48, 53, 54 
 
 rights, 53, 54 
 
 Fideicommissen, 59 
 Flachsland, Maria Cornelia, 151, 152 
 Flacians, persecution of, 337 
 Foreign labour, hostility to, 380, 381 
 Forests, destruction of, 77 
 Formulary of Concord, 344 
 Forster, George, 447 
 Fortunes in Berlin, 408 
 
 in Prussia, 409 
 
 Francke, 357, 358 
 Fredigund, 136-139 
 Frederick I., 264 
 
 II., 264, 445, 446 
 
 III., 261, 345 
 
 V., 264 
 
 William I., 144, 261, 345, 441, 442, 
 
 473, 474 
 
 II., 346, 447 
 
 IV., 39 
 
 Free justification, 346 
 
 love, 424, 425 
 
 men, 2, 3 
 
 
Index. 
 
 489 
 
 Free trade, 379 
 
 Imperial cities, 8, 9, 13 
 
 knights, 6, 13, 3(3, 41 
 
 Freiburg, archbishop of, 299 
 
 theatre at, 286, 287 
 
 Ursulines of, 330-333 
 
 Freiherren, 4, 26, 28, 36-38, 41 
 Freiwilliger (see Einjahriger), 228, 
 
 229, 232 
 Frohn, 31-33 
 Fugger family, 24, 33 
 Fiirsten (see Princes), 6, 8, 45 
 Fiirstenrecht, 7, 59 
 
 G 
 
 Ganz von Pudlitz, family of, 28 
 
 Gefreite, 215, 227, 229 
 
 "Gelieimrath," title of, 43 
 
 Gemeinde, 73 
 
 Gesammte Hand, 54, 60-62, 64, 69, 70 
 
 Gesperrter, 326 
 
 Gewannen, 75, 76, 79, 80 
 
 Girls, education of, 184, 186 
 
 Glove, derivation of, 101 
 
 Goethe, 152-155, 157, 166 
 
 Golden Bull, 56 
 
 Gottsched, 266-272, 275 
 
 Graf, 3, 4, 30, 45 
 
 Grillparzer, 292 
 
 Gudrun, 141, 142 
 
 Guilds, 34, 35, 386-389, 405-407 
 
 Gymnasium, 181, 182 
 
 H 
 
 Hade-wig, Duchess, 142, 143 
 
 Haftgeld, 99 
 
 Halm, 290 
 
 Hanover, court of, 450 
 
 Hans Sachs, 250, 251 
 
 Hebbel, 292 
 
 Hedges in North Germany, 71, 72 
 
 Heimsteuer, 60, 61 
 
 Henriette Vogel, 152, 153 
 
 Hensel, Louise, 162-164 
 
 Heraldry, 27. 33 
 
 Herder, 150-152 
 
 Herrnhut, 359, 360 
 
 Herzog, 4 
 
 Hillern, Frau von, 172 
 
 Hoffahig, 44 
 
 Hofmetzgerei, 92, 93 
 
 Holbein family, 33 
 
 Horbs, 358 
 
 Hosbach, Dr., 369 
 
 Hours of work, 381, 382 
 Hufenwirtuschaft, 75 
 
 Illegitimacy, statistics of, 122 
 
 " Immediate " nobles, 5, 6, 8, 9, 21, 36, 
 
 44 
 Immunitas, 6 
 Indifference, religious, 338-344, 346, 
 
 348, 349, 355, 357 
 Instruction, military, 211-227 
 Inter imwirthsch aft, 69, 70 
 Intestacy, 65, 66 
 Intolerance, religious, 310, 335-337,347 
 
 Jesuits, 306, 307, 322-324, 437 
 Jew usurers, 29, 67, 83, 84, 92 
 Joseph II., 460, 461 
 
 K 
 
 Kaiserstuhl, 91, 92 
 Kalb, Charlotte von, 38, 158 
 Kiss to bride, 106 
 Kleinsfadterei, 467 
 Kleist, 152, 153 
 Konigsmark, Countess of, 299 
 Koppelwirthschaft, 75, 78, 85 
 Kriemhild, 140, 141 
 
 Landed gentry, abolished, 37-40, 41, 
 
 46, 449, 450, 474, 475 
 Landrecht, 53, 55 
 Landsturm, 204, 205 
 Land tenure, 49-52 
 Landwehr, 204-207, 209, 210, 230, 231, 
 
 237 
 Lassalle, Ferdinand, 412-414, 418-420, 
 
 423, 426, 436 
 Laube, 290 
 Laufenburg, 313, 314 
 Lazzi, 2 
 
 Lectures, University, 193 
 Lehnrecht, 53 
 Leibgedinge, 60, 61 
 Lenau, 164, 165 
 Leopold of Pessau, 12, 461-463 
 Lessing, 276, 279, 446 
 Liechtenstein, principality of, 16, 22 
 
490 
 
 Index. 
 
 Liegende Habe, 47 
 
 Lieutenants, 206, 213, 214 
 
 Lili, 153 
 
 Lippe, saved from mediatisatinn, 17 
 
 von and zu dor, family, 21, 22 
 
 Lot, lands divided by, 53, GO, 88, 92 
 
 Louise Hensel, 162-165 
 
 Lowensti in family, 11, 12 
 
 Ludwig the Saint, 33, 34 
 
 Lupfen, Countess, and snail-shells, 32, 
 
 33 
 Luther on marriage, 108-110, 113, 114, 
 
 121 
 
 on submission to authority, 348 
 
 on theatrical performances, 252 
 
 Lutherauism, decay of, 349, 350 
 
 M 
 
 Mahlschatz, 101, 102 
 
 Majorat, 42, 57-59, 88 
 
 Malmesbury, Lord, on German culture, 
 446, 447 
 
 Malthusian legislation, 118, 119 
 
 Mannheim theatrical school, 280 
 
 Manoeuvres, 223-227 
 
 Maria Cornelia Flachsland, 151, 152 
 
 Maria Theresa, 145, 146 
 
 Mark, 73 
 
 Marlitt, 172, 362 
 
 Marpingen miracle, 329 
 
 Marriage, difficulty of, 434 
 
 service, Anglican, 105, 106 
 
 Marx, Karl, 410, 414, 419-422, 425, 
 436 
 
 "Mediate" nobles, 5, 6, 11 
 
 «Vfediatisation, 16-18, 24, 59 
 
 Migrations of peoples, 73, 74 
 
 Military service interferes with mar- 
 riage, 120, 323, 324 
 
 Militia, 202 
 
 Ministerial nobles, 3, 5, 11 
 
 Minorat, 59, 68, 69 
 
 Missa pro sponsis, 104, 106 
 
 Mittclfreien, 5, 6 
 
 Monastic orders, 300, 301, 307 
 
 Morality, comparative, 122, 123 
 
 — low state of, 120-122 
 
 Morganatic marriages, 11-13, 23, 63 
 
 Morgen, a measure, 81 
 
 Morgengabe, 62-64, 104 
 
 Mortgages, 52 
 
 Muhldorf family, 13 
 
 Mundium, 98-100 
 
 Mundschatz, 98 
 
 Miiuster, diocese of, 325, 326 
 
 N 
 
 Nassau, house of, 10, 11, 60, 474 
 
 Usingen, court of, 458-160 
 
 Verkoppelung, 85, 86 
 
 Neuber, Fran, 265-278, 280 
 
 Nobility, ill-tieatment of, 42, 43, 449, 
 
 450, 474, 475 
 patents of, 35 
 
 O 
 
 Oberkirchenrath, 117 
 Old Catholics, 311-315 
 Outpost duty, 222 
 
 Palatinate, synod of 1877, 365, 366 
 various religious changes in, 335, 
 
 336 
 Pantheism, 356 
 Parallel system, 365 
 Pastures reclaimed, 77, 82 
 Patents of nobility, 35 
 Patricians, 33, 35 
 Pay of soldiers, 241 
 Peasants' war, 33 
 Pfahlbauten, 73 
 Pflichttheil, 66, 68 
 Philistinism, 475, 477 
 Piecework, 382-384 
 Pietism, 357-361 
 Police, 394, 395 
 Population affected by subdivision of 
 
 property, 87-90 
 
 kept down, 377, 378 
 
 statistics of, 295 
 
 Portreves, 4 
 
 Prsetextatus, murder of, 137 
 Precedence, order of, 43, 44 
 Primogeniture, 53, 56-62, 66, 69, 88 
 Princes, 4, 5, 7, 8, 20-22, 37 
 Privat-Docent, 193, 194 
 Privileges of nobles, 28 
 
 of mediatised princes, 17, 18 
 
 Promnitz, Countess of, 360, 361 
 Protection, 396 
 
 Prussia, aggrandisement of, 295, 296 
 Prussian Verkoppelung, 86, 87 
 
 Q 
 
 Quedlimburg, abbey of, 299 
 
 
Index. 
 
 491 
 
 R 
 
 Radegund, Saint, 136 
 Rahel, 165, 166 
 Real-Schule, 181. 182 
 Recruits, 207-210, 213-217 
 Recruiting system, 202, 203, 207-211 
 
 (of officers), 234, 235 
 
 Reformation, a social movement, 351, 
 
 352 
 Regulation exercises, 218-220 
 Rent-banks, 40 
 Retrait lignager, 52 
 Reuss, princes of, 358, 359 
 Revolution of 1848, 39, 40, 474 
 Richter, Jean Paul, 155-159, 166, 168 
 Ritualism, Lutheran, 310, 345 
 Roman law, introduction of, 96, 111, 
 
 403 
 opposed to German law, 47, 50, 
 
 107, 108, 403-405 
 Romilda, 135 
 Ronge, schism of, 311 
 Rosamund, 132 
 
 Rotation of crops, 75, 76, 81, 82 
 Rumetrude, 132 
 
 S. 
 
 Sachsen-Spiegel, date of, 5 
 Salic law, 3, 51, 53 
 Salm, house of, 26 
 
 Grunibach, Count of, 451 
 
 Kyrburg, Count of, 452 
 
 Sappers, 224, 225 
 
 Saxon Evangelical Church, 370 
 
 Saxony, subdivision of, 53, 56, 57 
 
 court of, 448, 449 
 
 Schiefnoth, 52 
 Schiller, 38, 153, 280 
 Scholastic agencies, 177, 178 
 Schonburg family, 336 
 Schroder, 280 
 
 Schulze-Delitzsch, 410-412, 415 
 Schwaben-Spiegel, date of, 5 
 Schwarzburg-Rudolstadt, court of, 458 
 
 Sondershausen, court of, 453-458 
 
 Secession, 117, 312, 313 
 
 Secundogeniture, 57, 59 
 
 Seminaries, 316, 317, 319-321 
 
 Semperfieien, 5, 6 
 
 Seniorat, 57, 58 
 
 " Serene highness," title of, 19 
 
 Servitude, 31 
 
 Sexes, dissociation of, 197, 475, 476 
 
 Shakespeare, 280, 288 
 
 Sheriff, 4 
 
 Short sight, 187, 188 
 Snailshells, 33 
 Sondershausen, 453-458 
 Sophie Charlotte of Brunswick, 144, 
 145 
 
 Gutermann, 149, 150 
 
 Mereau, 161 
 
 — Schwab, 164, 165 
 
 Spadework, importance of, 224, 225 
 
 Spener, 357, 358 
 
 Standesherren, 18, 19 
 
 Stein family, 38 
 
 Strikes, 391, 392 
 
 Subdivision of feofs, 8 
 
 land, ruins the nobles, 39, 55 
 
 effect on agriculture, 90-92, 
 
 428 
 
 93 
 
 effect on population, 87 90 
 t o ual among children, 53-55 
 eff ct on stock, 66, 67, 90 
 excessive, forbidden, 84, 92, 
 
 Sword and spindle, 51, 52 
 
 T 
 
 Tabagie, 443, 444 
 
 Target practice, 225 
 
 Testaments (see Wills), 50, 51 
 
 Theodelinda, 133, 134 
 
 Thirty Years' War, 9, 10, 13, 16, 28, 94, 
 
 335, 394 
 Thusnelda, 129, 130 
 Titles of sons, 45 
 Trades'-unions, 377, 379, 388-390, 392, 
 
 394, 397, 398 
 Transylvania, 89, 90, 123-125 
 Training, 97, 102, 103, 106 
 Tuniberg, 91 
 Thuxn und Taxis, Princes of, 9, 21 
 
 U 
 
 Ultramontanism, 302-306, 333, 433 
 
 Undine, Fouque's, 30 
 
 Union of Churches, 308, 344-348, 350, 
 
 353 
 Universities, 191 
 
 statistics of, 192 
 
 Unmittelbar (see Immediate), 5 
 Unterwalden, wills not allowed in, 50 
 Ursulines, 330-333 
 Usury forbidden, 31, 67, 68, 427, 435 
 rent regarded as, 31 
 
4«)2 
 
 hidex. 
 
 Volthen, 258-261 
 Verfangenschaft, 65 
 Verkoppelung, 83, 85-87 
 Verlobung, 97, 102, 105, 106 
 Vienna, court at, 460, 461 
 Volsungs, 133 
 " Von," prefix of, 2, 35, 36 
 Vormund, 98-103 
 Vulpius, Ohristiane, 154, 155 
 
 Waldeck family, 14 
 Wedding, meaning of, 100 
 Wedel family, 13 
 Wehrgeld, 98 
 " Well-born," title oft I 
 
 Welser family, 33 
 Wette, 100, 102, 103 
 Wiederlegung, 61-63 
 Wieland, 149, 150, 152 
 Wildenstein, castle of, 30 
 Wildisbach, Saints of, 361 
 Wills first made, 50, 51 
 Witthum, 61, 98-100, 105 
 Wurtemberg, 17, 19, 41, 42, 84, 85, 
 90-92, 94, 300, 303 
 
 princes of, 449 
 
 Wiiste Marken, 81 
 
 Z 
 
 Z'ahringen, Dukes of, 30, 54 
 Zimmern, Baron von, 30, 31 
 Zinzendorf, Count of, 360, 361 
 Zweibriicken, Count of, 474 
 
 THE END. 
 
 

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