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250 Militarism and Democracy in Germany not guilty; the prosecutor asked only for imprisonment, but the military judges pronounced the death sentence in addition to imprisonment. They felt they must uphold their caste, right or wrong. A lieutenant stationed at Memel was found to have beaten a soldier so severely with a sword that his victim had to be dropped from the military service, compensated, and pensioned for injuries "incident to the service." Not that the other type of officer is lacking. As the writer knows by personal experience, there are plenty of kindly, gifted, and charming officers who are neither fire-eaters nor war-worshippers, who write no jingo books and do not subscribe to Bernhardi. They despise the intrigues, the narrowness, and frequent immorality of the small garrison, and the dissipation of life in the big cities. They recognize the mediaeval character of the code of honor, but they are helpless to change it, and as they grow older the more ready they are to think an intense militarism the normal condition of society. If there are many officers of this type, particularly in the south German armies, the trend is, however, toward the overbearing arrogance of the Von Reuters, which is again merely saying that militarism unchecked and unsubordinated to civilian control will run to excesses everywhere. The note of Bernhardi has been more and more often heard with the cry that war is the natural state of man and that the German army is for war. It is quite possible that the Kaiser, in the last moments before the war, was overborne against his better judgment by the General Staff clique with which he is surrounded, and signed the fatal order practically under compulsion. But there were thousands of his officers who went to the war exulting that the time had come at last when their years of devoted study and ceaseless training, unsurpassed in its comprehensiveness and its intensity, were to give way to the practical application of all they had learned as to man-killing. Whether an army which by its very existence creates fear and militaristic rivalry, which forever talks war, can be either a democratic force or, in the long run, a sound educational influence is open to gravest question. As an educational system it has the merits described earlier in this article; but even German professors would hardly deny that it is bought at a heavy cost to the school system of the empire. If there are underpaid commonschool teachers anywhere they live in Germany, and particularly in Bavaria. The genteel poverty of these men who have to exist upon their pay is one of the great tragedies of life under the Kaiser. But the economic waste of the army is a chief stumbling-block to any betterment in their condition, precisely as the millions it costs prevent reforms in many other directions. It would seem as if it would be better to have the Krupps earn less than twelve or fourteen per cent per annum and the school-teachers a little more. It would be better to be less efficient as a nation to the extent that that efficiency is created by the army, and for the masses to be happier, with a consequent decrease of a million or so in the Social Democratic voters. As long as they can roll up three millions of votes and still protest against militarism, even though swept off their feet in war time, all cannot be well with a culture founded on military force. That their voices and many others will again be uplifted to protest against war and armies when peace returns is the one thing that is certain about this war. In no such military and bureaucratic atmosphere as exists in Germany does democracy thrive ! Instead, we have the tradition that as the German Empire is the army's creation so the nation's future is dependent wholly upon it. Imitating the ninety-three savants, three thousand German teachers in universities and schools of technology have put their names to the statement that there is no other spirit in the army save that of the nation; that the spirit of German knowledge and militarism are the same; that the German army and the German universities are identical in their aspirations, since both are devoted to science. They, too, apparently cannot understand that a culture which exists only by reason of the arms behind it is no more a normal, healthy growth than is an industry artificially created by a protective tariff and kept alive solely by receiving part or all of its profits by the favor of a treasury. They belie their own culture because it is a free growth while service in the army is com-

pulsory, and compulsory service of the German type may be universal but it is not democratic. Again, this sudden assertion that German} is wholly dependent upon its army for safety is the historic argument of decadent peoples relying entirely upon mercenaries. .Is the German democracy of intellect so without any sources of strength within itself that it cannot flourish save by grace of the militarists ? We believe that when the present Rausch (intoxication) of the German people is at an end their professors will be the The Empty Room 251 first to deny this interdependence of their realm upon another so materialistic, so mediaeval, so autocratic, with such barbarous aims as conquest by blood and iron and man-killing by the hundred thousand. These savants and professors may in defeat become sufficiently sobered even to ask themselves whether all is well with a civilization, or its militaristic handmaiden, which finds itself surrounded by enemies and is dreaded even beyond seas as a power with the potentiality of great evil. THE EMPTY ROOM By Harriet Prescott Spofford THE lock is rusty, the slow key grates— Turn it more daringly, open the door! Only a ghost at the threshold waits, They that have crossed it cross it no more. Heavy the unbreathed air of the room— Throw wide the casement, let the wind blow, Once it brought breath of roses in bloom, Of the dew of a morning long ago. Speak low—there are Presences here of old, Sighs and sorrows and sweet desires, Falter of prayers, and wild tunes trolled, And here love lighted his sacred fires. The dreams that some woman haply dreamed, The smiles that shone on her tender face, Here where the moonlight over her streamed, Unseen, unshaped, still haunt the place. For the tense string touched sings on and on— Do you hear music? A cradle song. Lightsome laughter? The voice is gone, But the soundless thrill still sings along. Friend and lover, and man and wife, The child's sweet babble—stay, feel the spell The empty room brims over with life, As you hear the sea sing in the shell!

pulsory, and compulsory service of the<br />

German type may be universal but it is<br />

not democratic. Again, this sudden assertion<br />

that German} is wholly dependent<br />

upon its army for safety is the historic argument<br />

of decadent peoples relying entirely<br />

upon mercenaries. .Is the German<br />

democracy of intellect so without any<br />

sources of strength within itself that it<br />

cannot flourish save by grace of the militarists<br />

? We believe that when the present<br />

Rausch (intoxication) of the German people<br />

is at an end their professors will be the<br />

The Empty Room 251<br />

first to deny this interdependence of their<br />

realm upon another so materialistic, so<br />

mediaeval, so autocratic, with such barbarous<br />

aims as conquest by blood and iron<br />

and man-killing by the hundred thousand.<br />

These savants and professors may in defeat<br />

become sufficiently sobered even to<br />

ask themselves whether all is well with<br />

a civilization, or its militaristic handmaiden,<br />

which finds itself surrounded by<br />

enemies and is dreaded even beyond seas<br />

as a power with the potentiality of great<br />

evil.<br />

THE EMPTY ROOM<br />

By Harriet Prescott Spofford<br />

THE lock is rusty, the slow key grates—<br />

Turn it more daringly, open the door!<br />

Only a ghost at the threshold waits,<br />

They that have crossed it cross it no more.<br />

Heavy the unbreathed air of the room—<br />

Throw wide the casement, let the wind blow,<br />

Once it brought breath of roses in bloom,<br />

Of the dew of a morning long ago.<br />

Speak low—there are Presences here of old,<br />

Sighs and sorrows and sweet desires,<br />

Falter of prayers, and wild tunes trolled,<br />

And here love lighted his sacred fires.<br />

The dreams that some woman haply dreamed,<br />

The smiles that shone on her tender face,<br />

Here where the moonlight over her streamed,<br />

Unseen, unshaped, still haunt the place.<br />

For the tense string touched sings on and on—<br />

Do you hear music? A cradle song.<br />

Lightsome laughter? The voice is gone,<br />

But the soundless thrill still sings along.<br />

Friend and lover, and man and wife,<br />

The child's sweet babble—stay, feel the spell<br />

The empty room brims over with life,<br />

As you hear the sea sing in the shell!

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