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Germany and its evolution in modern time

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GERMANY AND ITS EVOLUTIONIN MODERN TIMES

GERMANY AND ITS EVOLUTIONIN MODERN TIMES

B\

HENRI LIGHTENBERGERMattre de Conferences A la Sorbonne

TRANSLATED FROM THE FEBNCH BY

A. M. LUDOVICI

NEW YORKHENRY HOLT AND COMPANY

19135

ppfin

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PRINTED BY

HAZELL, WATSON AND Vllte,UD.,

LONDON AND ATtESBDRY,ENGLAKD.

CONTENTSINTRODUCTION

Religious and scientific mental outlookThe development ofrationalismModern antagonism between religion and scienceRepugnance of Germany to radical solutions . xiii-xxv

BOOK IECONOMIC EVOLUTION

CHAPTER ITHE DEVELOPMENT OF THE SYSTEM OF

CAPITALISTIC ENTEEPKISE

Beginnings of the capitalistic system in GermanyThe ideal ofsustenanceDevelopment of free enterpriseEconomic emanci-pation of Prussia after Jena .... pp. 3-7

Stages in the development of capitalismGermany at the be-ginning of the centuryPeriod between 1800 and 1848

Economic stride after 1848Speculative madness after 1870The triumphs of German industry at the end of thecentury pp. 7_17

CHAPTER IITHE EFFECTS OF THE SYSTEM OF ENTERPRISE

UPON THE OLD FORMS OF INDUSTRY

I. Domestic industryDisappearance of domestic work amongthe peasantryThe domestic industry of the country districtsThe great domestic industries of the towns . pp. 18-22

II. The tradesTheir ancient organisationGradual dissolution of

vi^ CONTENTSthe guild systemThe craftsman's work menaced by the com-petition of great industriesEconomic and social decadence ofthe artisan class . .

. . . PP- 22-27

CHAPTER IIITHE EFFECT OF CAPITALISTIC ENTERPRISE

UPON AGRICULTUREAgrarian evolutionIncrease of production during the century

The law of the concentration of capital not applicable toagricultureSubstitution of private exploitation for collec-tive exploitationLiquidation of feudal propertyIts resultsfor the large landowners and for the peasantryEvolutionof customs in the rural class .... pp. 28-36

The Agrarian crisisIts causes : competition of new countries,the debt on landed propertyIts effects on the nobiUty andthe peasantryDiminution of the importance of agriculturein the life of the nation ..... pp. 36-47

CHAPTER IVSOCIAL EVOLUTION

Social effects of the system of enterpriseThe old classes : thenobility, the middle class, the peopleThe modern classes :the aristocracy of enterprise and the army of labourForma-tion and evolution of the proletariat in Germany pp. 48-57

General results of the economic evolutionThe good and evil ofthe system of enterpriseSigns of a reaction against thesystem of unrestricted competition . . . pp. 57-61

BOOK IIPOLITICAL EVOLUTION

CHAPTER ITHE PROBLEM OF GERMAN LIBERTY AND

UNITY

I. Weakness of Germany at the beginning of the centuryAbsenceof unity and hberal institutions . . . pp. 65-72

II. AustriaMetternich's pohcy of stabiUtyAustria hostile tothe movement toward unity and Liberalism . pp. 72-76

CONTENTS vii

III. PrussiaPrussian powerSympathy of Prussia with the desirefor unityThe Prussian monarchy and Liberal aspirations

:

its evolution towards a constitutional systemReforms of Steinand HardenbergThe divided state of Germany . pp. 76-85

CHAPTER IITHE IDEALISTIC STRUGGLE FOE. LIBERTY

AND UNITY

I. The beginnings of LiberalismIts original idealistic character

The " organic " evolution of pohtical institutions in Prussia

The " inorganic " character of the political evolution of thesouthern states of Germany .... pp. 86-101

II. The evolution of LiberalismNationalistic tendenciesRadicaltendencies ...... pp. 101-104

III. The Revolution of 1848-49Its explosion in GermanyTheParliament of FrankfortIts impotence against the German

,1princesThe futility of its efforts to reaUse German unity

! The reasons for this failure .... pp. 105-113

CHAPTER IIITHE FOUNDATION OF GERMAN UNITY

I. The new turn of mindThe development of the realistic andpositive spiritBismarck the typical representative of therealistic era : his will to power ; his intellectual lucidity ; hisnervous sensitiveness..... pp. 114-120

II. The reahsation of German unityThe conquest of Germanyby PrussiaThe ZoUvereinFailure of the UnionThereaction in Germany and in PrussiaThe restoration ofPrussian powerThe struggle for supremacy with Austria

:

SadowaThe war of 1870: its causes; responsibility for iti of France and Germany respectivelyThe restoration of the

German Empire pp. 120-137

CHAPTER IVTHE GERMAN EMPIRE AND HER

FOREIGN POLICY

I. European policy of GermanyIts pacific tendenciesThenecessity for developing the power of GermanyFrance and

viii CONTENTS

JGermany after 1870The German armyGermany's alliancesArmed peace...... pp. 138-148

II. Universal policy" Greater Germany "Germans outside Ger-manyGerman interests abroadConstitution of a colonialempire ....... pp. 149-157

III. German imperiaUsmNationalism and imperialismThe con-flicting interests of agriculture and industry in Germany

The Government as arbitrator . . . pp. 157165

CHAPTER VTHE GERMAN EMPIRE AND HER

HOME POLICYI. The internal life of Germany-Increasingly realistic conception

of the idea of party : conflict of principles changed to conflictof classes and interests .... pp. 166-169

II. The Socialist PartyUtopian SocialismEvolution towardsan increasingly practical activityRevolutionaries and re-formersSyndicalism .... pp. 169-175

III. The Liberal PartyIts ideahstio beginningsIt becomes themiddle-class partyEvolution of the National Liberal Party : itbecomes the political organ of the great industries pp. 175-179

IV. The Conservative PartyIts beUef in authority and its par-ticularismPositive ambitions of the ConservativesTheirreconciliation with BismarckThey constitute themselves thedefenders of agricultural interests: the Bund der Land-wirte pp. 179-184

V. The Catholic Centre Party.. . . pp. 184-185

VI. General results of the evolution of partiesDecadence ofparliamentary lifeDisappearance of all poUtieal idealism

\ The parties and the Emperor . .. pp. 186-190

CHAPTER VIMODERN POLITICAL IDEALISM

,/

I. Education policyGradual secularisation of public instructionNevertheless, the Church keeps some influence over teachingIncreasingly realistic and democratic character of modernteaching pp_ igi-igg

II. Social policySocial associations and protection of workmenIntervention of the German State in the social questionSocial policy of Bismarck: the social insurance laws Acces-sion of William II: era of reforms and subsequently ofreactionRenewal of social idealism in the Germany ofto-day pp. 199-210

CONTENTS ix

BOOK III

THE EVOLUTION OF RELIGIOUS ANDPHILOSOPHICAL THOUGHT

CHAPTER I

THE RENAISSANCE OF CATHOLICISM IN GERMANY ATTHE BEGINNING OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

I. The development of scientific rationalism transforms the " re-ligion " of the modern man . . . pp. 213-214

II. The decline and revival of Roman Catholicism at the beginningof the nineteenth centuryReformed CatholicismApparentdecline of Roman CatholicismReaction towards positive formsin religionThe alliance between the Throne and the Altaragainst the RevolutionThe struggle for CathoHo "liberty"The decline of reformed CatholicismThe romanticist move-ment favours the progress of Catholicism among the eliteProgress of Catholicism in the lowest layers of the nation ;the Catholic associations .... pp. 214-236

CHAPTER II

THE PROGRESS OF CATHOLICISM DURING THENINETEENTH CENTURY

1. The triumph of Roman Catholicism over reformed CatholicismHermesianismThe " German Catholic " movementThe" Old Catholics " pp. 237-240

II. Conflicts between the Church and the StateThe gradualemancipation of Catholicism during the first sixty-five yearsof the nineteenth centuryThe confliet between the powerof the Pope and the new German EmpireThe KulturkampfThe reconciliation between the Centre and the Government

The Centre as a government partyWilliam II. and Catho-licism" Political " and " ideaUstic " Catholicism pp. 240-250

X CONTENTS

CHAPTER IIITHE PROTESTANT SPIRIT

I. Fundamental tendencies of ProtestantismCatholic " semi-rationaUsm " and Protestant " irrationalism "Protestantismproclaims the independence of reason and faithIt tends toconciliate science and religionDefinition of the domains ofreligion, metaphysics, and moraUty . . pp. 251-258

II. Protestant mysticismThe mystic element in the religion ofLutherPietism : its fmidamental characteristicsIts evolu-tion in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuriesTheawakeningModem and contemporary pietism pp. 259-268

III. Protestant subjectivismGradual crumbling away of dogma;

radical subjectivism of SchleiermacherGradual eliminationof the historical elements from Christianity ; the rationalism ofthe eighteenth centurythe mythical interpretation of the BiblestoriesReligion stripped of its absolute character pp. 268-279

rV. Attempts to reconcile science and religionThe rationalismof the eighteenth centuryThe idealism of the nineteenthcenturyKantianism ; modem evolution of idealistic philo-sophyContemporary Protestant idealism . pp. 279-290

CHAPTER IVTHE PROTESTANT CHURCH

I. Protestant orthodoxyRestoration of the idea of orthodoxyOrthodoxy and pietism in the nineteenth centuryConflictbetween the " positive " tendency and the " negative " ten-dency ... ??. 291-297

II. The Protestant ChurchThe idea of a Church in the MiddleAgesProtestantism replaces the institution of an ecclesi-astical hierarchy by the notion of universal priesthood TheProtestant Church under the rule of the StateNecessaryrupture between Church and StateThe official Church andthe Free ChurchesDivorce between the official Churchand the Protestant spiritAntagonism between Protestantsubjectivism and the idea of a Church

.. pp. 297312

CHAPTER VFREE THOUGHT

I. MaterialismIts diffusion in the nineteenth century^Thecauses of its progressThe real discredit of materialism amongthe cultured minority .... pp. 313-323

CONTENTS xi

II. PositivismIt springs up in opposition to metaphysical dog-matismIts diffusion in the nineteenth century pp. 323-328

III. Pessimism-Formation of the doctrine of pessimismItsdiffusion in the second half of the centuryReaction againstpessimism ...... pp. 328334

IV. NaturalismThe Nihihsm of NietzscheThe transvaluationof all values and DionysianismNietzsche is one of thetypical representatives of the miodern mind pp. 334-342

V. Contemporary tendenciesThe hatred encountered by Nietz-schean Badicaliam in GermanyContemporary aspirations toa new classicism; the "return to Goethe" . pp. 342-347

BOOK IVEVOLUTION IN ART

CHAPTER I

THE VALUE OF ART

1. The cult of artClassic conception of art ; the neo-Hellenismof GoetheThe glorification of art among the ronaanticistsDiffusion of the cult of art in the nineteenth century pp. 351-362

II. Reaction against the cult of artArt and culture considered asthe products of industryProgress of utilitarian realismArtsubordinated to scienceArt in the service of lifeDemocraticartThe desire of the people for art . . pp. 362-378

CHAPTER II

EOMANTICISM, REALISM, AND IMPRESSIONISM

I. RomanticismAt first a continuation of classicismIts charac-teristics : SubjectivismLyricismEvolution of romanticismtowards a national and popular art .

. pp. 379-392II. ReaUsmDissolution of romanticismDifftisiou of realistic

tendencies ...... pp. 392-396III. ImpressionismGradual refinement of nervous sensitiveness

in the nineteenth centiu'yDevelopment of impressionism inmusicImpressionism in painting and poetryImpressionismand " decadence"..... pp. 397-406

xii CONTENTS

CHAPTER III

SYNTHETIC ART

I. The synthetic work of art in the domain of poetry and music

Correspondence of sensationsWagner's musical drama

Criticism of Wagnerism .... pp. 407-414II. The synthetic work of art in the domain of the plastic arts

-

Search for a new stylePeriod of imitating the old stylesThe tendencies of contemporary art industries pp. 414-419

CONCLUSIONWill to power and solidarityThe development of German powerThe instinct for order and disciplineChange from a com-bative to a solidariatic idea of life . . . pp. 420-430

Index pp. 431-440

INTRODUCTION /^

Thk great fact which strikes us when we comparethe present day with the ages that have preceded itis the enormous growth in human power which tookplace during the course of the last century. It ispossible to have some doubts about the " progress "

of humanity, in the sense that it is very far fromcertain that the man of to-day is happier, wiser, oreven in a safer position than he was formerly. Onthe other hand, it is perfectly clear that the sum-total of human power in the face of nature hasincreased enormously. The conquest and subjuga-tion of elemental forces by the intelligence of manmade a tremendous stride during the nineteenthcentury. Man no longer regards the Universe inthe same way or with the same feelings as he oncedid. Even his mental outlook has been profoundlymodified, and, to use an expression which is con-tinually recurring in the works of German critics,it has developed in the direction of " subjectivity."The Middle Ages were filled above all with a deep

sense of our helplessness in the face of forces far morepowerful than ourselves. If we examine the stateof mind which prevailed, even towards the beginningof the fifteenth century, we find that the most funda-mental difference between ourselves and the men ofthat period was the fact that they had no conception

xiv INTRODUCTION

of causality. We live under the firm convictionthat every circumstance, without exception, can beexplained as the effect of one or more causes. We ad-mit the existence of an inexorable bond of causationbetween all phenomenaa rule which admits of noexceptions ; and we force ourselves throughout thewhole range of our experience to grasp clearly thechain of cause and effect. Even when we cannotfind this relation, we are convinced that it existsand that greater scientific knowledge would enableus to discover it. It is this fundamental convictionwhich was above all lacking in the man of the MiddleAges. His knowledge of the outside world was stillvery limited in range, and, unlike his modern brother,he had not got at his disposal an enormous numberof systematised experiences, which had been classi-fied and organised. His intelligence in the presenceof every fact and event did not imperatively demanda causal explanation. In order to get his bearingsand to find his way in the midst of the chaos ofphenomena, he was content at every turn to reasonby analogies which were more or less haphazard andsuperficial, and not to pursue a course of rigorousinduction. It is not surprising, therefore, that inaddition to a very restricted group of phenomena,in which experience had taught him to trace acertain regularity, he gladly postulated the existencein our very midst of a far vaster realm of miracles,which was independent of natural laws, and which,at any moment could break the normal chain ofevents. Nor is it surprising, either, that, in theabsence of firmly established positive science, andby reason of the insignificant sum of experience thatcan be acquired by a single individual, the tradi-tional wisdom bequeathed from the past should have

INTRODUCTION xv

exercised powerful authority over him. Indeed, there

is nothing astonishing in the fact that a religionfounded on a belief in miracles and based on theauthority of long tradition should have dominatedthe spirits and imposed itself with irresistible forceupon men's intelligence as well as their will.How different is the mental attitude of the modern

man!Whilst the intellect of the Middle Ages bowed

willingly before the authority of tradition, and sawmiracles in everything, and the hidden, arbitrary,mysterious influence of superior powers in the worldof phenomena, modern thought becomes ever moreresolutely self-reliant. The intellectual horizon ofmankind spreads to vast distances ; the sum-totalof human experience, classified and docketed, growsgreater every day. Science and the scientific in-stinct developed along parallel lines. Belief in theabsolute determinism of phenomena has slowly takenthe place of faith in the supernatural ; rigorousinductive reasoning has supplanted reasoning byanalogy. At the same time, there has sprung up,chiefly during the last three centuries, a wider andmore complete knowledge of the universe based uponreason and experiment. Through the great dis-coveries of Simon Stevin, Galileo, Newton, Descartes,Leibnitz, Euler, d'Alembert, and Laplace, mathe-matics and mechanics were placed upon a firm basisduring the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.Towards the end of the eighteenth century theempirical sciences in their turn leave the stage ofblind groping. Lavoisier inaugurated the era ofmodern chemistry, Galvani and Volta that of elec-tricity. And during the nineteenth century a vastconception of the mechanistic unity of the world was

xvi INTRODUCTION

gradually elaborated. Human intelligence learnt toconsider all the physical forces of nature in turn

mechanical processes, heat, light, sound, and elec-tricityas so many different expressions for one andthe same fundamental power which manifests itself inevery natural phenomenon, but remains unchangedin essence. It thus proved the unity of the forces ofnature, and established the fact that everywhereand in every shape force obeys a fundamental cosmiclawthe law of the conservation of energy and ofthe constancy of force and matter in the universe.Pushing its conquests yet further afield, it attemptedat last to extend these laws to organic nature. Inone of the simple, elementary substancescarbon

it unveiled the marvellous material which determinesthe formation of an infinite variety of organic bodies,and which, consequently, represents the chemicalbasis of life (Haeckel) ; it finds in the simple, solitarycell, the elementary organism which by successivecombinations gives birth to all the tissues com-posing vegetable or animal organisms. With thetheory of evolution, prophetically foreshadowed byGoethe at the end of the eighteenth century andscientifically formulated in 1859 by Darwin, it ex-tended the mechanistic theory to the realm ofbiology and proclaimed that the universe as awhole was nothing more than an eternal evolutionof matter.

But reason did not rest satisfied with postulatingan explanation of the universe based upon the prin-ciple of causality ; it was not content with theoryaloneit became practical, it acted, it created. Inproportion as it acquired a sounder knowledge of thelaws which govern phenomena, it learnt to subduethe forces of nature, to train them and make them

INTRODUCTION xvii

work for its own profit. At the same time as itfounded science, it also instituted a rational methodof dealing with technical processes.

These, in the old days, were essentially empirical.The artisan knew, through having learnt it from hispredecessors, how to set about obtaining a givenresult or product. His master had transmitted tohim, through the channel of practical work, theknowledge gained by experience and the variousprocesses by means of which a certain article wasproduced. And, in his ignorance of the laws ofnature, he applied these formulae without knowing,as a rule, how or why they gave the desired results.Sometimes a lucky fluke provided him with a clueto a new process by which he could gain his end withgreater speed and certainty, and in such a case heenriched by some new rule the technical code, whichhe bequeathed to the generation to follow. Butthis code still remained a collection of empiricalformulae fortuitously discovered and not a well-co-ordinated body of reasoned and scientifically correctknowledge.Now the distinguishing feature of modern technical

processes is precisely the gradual substitution ofrational knowledge for empiricism and of scientificmethods for traditional formulae. Thus scientificknowledge has, as its corollary, a profound modi-fication of all technical processes, which graduallyassume an entirely new complexion. What is thegoal towards which natural science is tending ? Itis essentially directed towards reducing differencesof quality to difference of quantity, towards finding amathematical formula for giving an adequate ex-planation of some natural fact, and finally towardsbringing down all the phenomena of organic life to

b

xviii INTRODUCTION

the increasingly complex movements of primordialelements, which, in essence, are the same as thosewhich constitute inorganic bodies. Similarly, moderntechnical processes in all their various forms

mechanics, thermophysics, chemistry, electricity, etc/tend everywhere to eliminate living agents and tosubstitute dead elements in their stead ; to replace,for instance, human or animal motive power bysteam or electricity, workers made of flesh and boneby instruments of iron and steel and by machinery ;natural organic products such as wood, vegetablecolours, and manure, by artificial inorganic productslike coal and iron, aniline dyes, and chemical manures.Thus technical processes become ever more exact,impersonal and independent of time and space ; theyno longer depend upon capacity, whether naturalor acquiredmanual dexterity, keensightedness,hearing, taste, or smellamong various classes ofmen ; they operate with the rigorous, impartial, un-swerving accuracy of a machine ; they are not obligedto submit to conditions of time and place, to whichthe natural growth of animal or vegetable organismsis subject, but produce the results they wish toobtain by means of an artificial combination ofelements and forces which are always at their dis-posal. They are no longer more or less delicatearts, whose secrets it would be possible to lose, butdefinite acquisitions, for all time and all nations, ofthe knowledge common to all mankind.Thus the development of science and of technical

processes based upon reason increased the power ofman and his dominion over nature to inordinateproportions. And under these circumstances wealso find a profound change in his entire attitudetowards life and the world.

INTRODUCTION xix

In the Middle Ages, as we saw, man felt himselfessentially a dependent creature. In all the depart-ments of his material or spiritual life he obeyedeither God or tradition. In the domain of religion,the Bible or the Church gave him for all greatmetaphysical problems a definite and completesolution inspired by God Himself, which he was ex-pected to accept without reservation or discussion.Morality was imposed upon him as a divine ordinancewhich he should humbly obey. The organisation ofsociety, founded upon ancient tradition, was alsoinvested with a semi-sacred character. In all theimportant acts of his life, man obeyed a commandgiven by a power whose will was infinitely abovehis own, and to whom a humble and resigned sub-missiveness was the only possible attitude.Now, it is precisely this submissive attitude towards

an outside authority which is modified as mangains consciousness of his own power. For centuriesChristianity provided men of the western world witha cosmologyan explanation of historic evolution, aninterpretation of the meaning of life and a rule ofconduct ; for centuries they had inscribed Faith atthe head of their Table of Values. But as rationalknowledge grew, together with the power of organi-sation which such knowledge confers, man learnedself-confidence. Science now rose up as a rival toFaith. Proud of her magnificent victories, Reasonaspired to usurp the place of Religion in all depart-ments of human life. She in her turn raised hereyes towards the first place upon the Table of Values.Since the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries therationalistic movement has resulted in giganticsynthetic constructions, such as the systems of Des-cartes, Spinoza, and Leibnitz, in which Reason,

XX INTRODUCTION

elevated to the tribunal of the supreme judge of truth,sets herself the task of constructing, by the light ofher own illumination alone, and independent of allauthority, of all tradition and all revelation, an orderof the Universe. At the beginning of the modernera, German thought, in the persons of Kant andFichte, announced, with no uncertain voice, the greatprinciple of Free Will. This disturbed the connectionwhich was hitherto regarded as existing betweenreligion and morality. The old order of ethics, whichattributed the principles of morality to the DivineWill and curbed the human will by the ordinances ofGod, was, for Kant, a heteronomous morality, foundedupon the principle of authority, which he repulsedwith all the force at his command. In maintainingthat " Pure Will," or will determined by pure Reason,and swayed exclusively by the law she lays down forherself, is the principle of all true morality, and byproclaiming that there is no authority in the worldwhich can command human Liberty, that man is hisown lawgiver, and that in obeying the moral law itis the voice of his own Reason to which he listens,Kant accomplished, in the domain of ethics, a taskwhich in its bearings was truly colossal and in-augurated a new era in the history of moral con-sciousness. Through him the human race becamedefinitely conscious of its autonomy.The idea of human autonomy was from that time

forward proclaimed with ever-increasing strength.Humanity learned to believe ever more and morefirmly that the thinking and active " subject " re-cognises no po-vver above himself before whom heshould bow. The modern man has a growing con-viction that he should not obey, but command andorganise. He resolutely faces the problem of the

INTRODUCTION xxi

rational exploitation of the universe, and he laboursat the scientific organisation of life in all its aspects

moral, economic, social, and political.In its most extreme and paradoxical form, the

subjectivism of our day proclaims with Nietzschethat " God is dead," denies not only the transcen-dental deity of the theologian, but also the immanentGod of the metaphysician, urges mankind to remain" faithful to this world," to put resolutely asideall interest in a Beyond, and to understand that heshould be a " creator of values," that outside himselfthere is no " objective " truth, morality, or meta-physics to which he should submit, but that in allindependence he should be a law unto himself.There is nothing in the world but centres of force ina state of perpetual evolution and of unceasingaction and reaction upon each other. The Will toPower, to ever-increasing power, which subjectsto its dominion an ever greater sum of energy, isthe fundamental fact of the life of the universe.The severance from the point of view prevalent in theMiddle Ages is complete. Then we had the believerwho felt himself surrounded by mystery and miracle,and submitted meekly to the authority of tradition,whether religious, moral, or scientific. To-day wefind the stern Titan, who no longer recognises anylaw or any master above him, but sees in the cease-less Will to Power, the eternal destiny of man,mankind, and the whole world.When I contrast the old belief in authority with

modern subjectivism, I do not wish in any way toassert that either of these two conceptions of life isintrinsically superior to the other, or that one ofthem should necessarily supplant the other, or thathistory shows us a progressive evolution, continuous

xxii INTRODUCTION

though indefinite, towards rationalistic subjectivism.All that I wish to say is thisthat mankind duringmodern times, and especially during the nineteenthcentury, has felt within himself the tremendousgrowth of the belief in the organising power of thehuman intellect and will, that he has applied hisenergy with remarkable intensity to the conquest of" power," whether scientific or technical, economicor political, and that the effort to inaugurate theuniversal rule of scientific and free reason is, per-haps, the greatest fact of the nineteenth century.But it is also true that the " religious " instinct,which made the spirits of the Middle Ages bow beforethe mystery of God, which led them to reverence intradition the manifestation of the Divine Will, whichimpelled them to adoration and submission to auniversal orderin short, to an attitude, not of com-mand, but of reverent humility before the riddle ofthe worldthis instinct has not, even in our days,ceased from making its voice heard. The modemman works with all his might to conquer the worldthrough intelligence and conscious will. And he haspride in his strength. But he also retains a con-sciousness of the strict limitation of his power overmatter. He still reveres the terrible and infinitepowers which close about him and upon which hefeels his dependence. And, especially in Germany,he willingly esteems and respects, in addition to therules of conduct dictated by reason, that unconsciouswisdom which finds expression in great religious,moral, political, and social traditions.The history of Germany in the nineteenth century

is therefore doubly interesting. Of all the nationsof Europe, the German people is one of those amongwhom scientific reason and organising will have dis-

INTRODUCTION xxiii

played the most extraordinary prowess and modernsubjectivism has blossomed most luxuriantly. Butit is also one among whom the " religious " spirit, irespect for tradition and authority, has retainedthe greatest strength. German thought has been apowerful helper in the development of the positivesciences and in the elaboration of a rational explana-tion of the universe. German force has organiseditself in a manner as methodical as it is formidable ;it has clung with incomparable energy to the con-quest of power, both economic and political ; andit has made Germany, together with England andthe United States, one of the most expansive nationsof the world. German Reason, therefore, has provedherself a force of the first magnitude and a peerlessinstrument of power. But she has not posed as anabsolute and intolerant sovereign, and has alwayssought to work as amiably as possible with theforces of the past. She has endeavoured, in therealm of religion, to make a compromise with tradi-tional beliefs, to " fulfil " Christianity rather than -fight it to the death. And in the domain of politics,instead of founding a uniformly rationalistic state,she has displayed great consideration for tradition,has shown a respect for monarchical authority, andhas been careful not to violate vested interests, orto precipitate too hurriedly the evolutionary processwhich bears modern nations towards democracy.Does this constitute a strength or a weakness ?

This is indeed a question. Some will admire thecontinuity of the political and religious evolution ofGermany ; they will regard it as a priceless advan-tage for a nation not to have made a clean slate ofthe past ; they will consider it probable that she willcontinue to develop along the same lines, without

xxiv INTRODUCTION

any violent shakes or blows, seeking and finding, inthe means between the two extremes of democracyand Socialism, or feudalism and clericalism, a formulaacceptable to the great majority. Others, on thecontrary, will think that the Germany of to-day

a military and feudalistic state, an empire with asternly realistic outlook, thirsting for power andwealth, and disdainful of all democratic and humani-tarian idealismis an anachronism in modern Europe,and cannot fail

^perhaps in the near futuretoundergo grave, and maybe violent, transformations.

I, for my part, have no pretensions to giving anoriginal verdict on questions so hotly disputed.Without pretending that it is possible in a matterof this kind to attain complete objectivity, I shallat least try to describe as impartially as I can, andwith the least possible obtrusion of my own personalfeelings, a collection of phenomena which are ofextraordinary interest to us. For some time pastGerman science has, in numerous works by singleindividuals and several collaborators, taken uponitself the task of making up the balance-sheet of thelast century. Some of these worksfrom which Ishall quote in particular Lamprecht's admirableHistory of Germanyare of the highest importance.I thought it would be interesting to present to theFrench public, in as simple a shape as possible, someof the general results of this vast field of inquiry.^

1 The most important are : Das XIX Jahrhundert in Deutsch-lands Bntwicklung, hg. v. P. Schlenther, Berlin, Bondi, 1898, S8.;Die Allgemeinen Qrundlagen der Kultur der Qegenwart, hg. v. P.Hinneberg, Berlin u. Leipzig, Teubner, 1906, ss. ; Am Ende desJahrhunderts, Berlin, Cronbach, 1898, ss. ; Das Deutsche Jahr-hundert inEinzelschrifien, hg. v. G. Stockhausen, BerUn, Schneider,1901 ; H. St. Chamberlain, Die Qrundlagen des XIX Jahrhunderts,Miinchen, Bruckmann, 1889. It seemed to me, moreover, impos-sible, without making my book too heavy, to give either a bibho-

INTRODUCTION xxv

By very reason of the profound differences which atpresent separate France from the Germany of to-day,it would be useful for us to force ourselves to form,without passion, a clear image and a general ideawhich shall be as precise as possible of the tendenciesof that nation. My only object, in this study, is totrace the bold outlines of this picture as faithfullyand sincerely as I can.

graphy of the works I have consulted, or to quote, in any detail,the authors to whom I refer. Among the works from which Ihave derived most profit, I must mention in the foremost placethe three volumes which Lamprecht published as supplements tohis History of Germany under the title of Zur jiingsten deutschenVergangenheit (Freiburg, 1902-1904), then the German works ofSombart, Ziegler, Treitschke, E. Marcks, Lenz, Zwiedineck-Siiden-horst, P. Mehring, Paulsen, Trceltsch, Nippold, Briick, Windelband,Ueberweg-Heinze, Kiilpe, R. M. Meyer, Bartels, Gurlitt, Muther,Meier-Graefe, Biemann, etc., and finally the French works byAndler, Basch, Denis, Goyau, L6vy Briihl, Albert L6vy, Matter,Milhaud, Pariset, Rouge, etc. It goes without saying that Imight enlarge this list considerably. But I do not see what usesuch a catalogue would be to the French reader. I merely wishto point out that the ideas I develop in this volume are not myown exclusive property. This essay, I repeat, has no other objectthan that of giving a summary of the researches lately made onthe subject of the culture of modern Germany by historians with-out whom my book would never have been written.

BOOK I

ECONOMIC EVOLUTION

CHAPTER I

THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE SYSTEM OF CAPITALISTICENTERPRISE

The great fact which dominates the economic andsocial history of Germany, as well as that of thewhole of Europe, during the nineteenth century, isthe growth of capitalism, or, to use a term moregenerally favoured by German political economists,the system of " enterprise " {Unternehmung).Former ages never felt to the same extent as the

nineteenth century that greed for unlimited gainwhich is characteristic of the modern speculatorof every category. In the pre-capitalistic era, eachindividual, from the lowest to the highest in the socialscale, aimed only at earning enough to ensure him themeans of sustenance (Nahrung) and a mode of life inkeeping with the customs of his class. This was theideal of the country gentleman, of the Junker,^ who,as a rule, did not aim at that intensive cultivationof his property which would make it yield the abso-lute maximum of production, but only asked fromhis lands sufficient maintenance for his rank, the rightof living like a lord on his estate for part of theyear, of hunting in the autumn, paying a visit to thecapital of the kingdom or province during the bad

1 The landed proprietor, whose class is the dominating one inPrussia. It is from this class that all officers and higher officialsare drawn.

Tb.3

4 EVOLUTION OF MODERN GERMANYseason, and providing a dowry for his daughters andsupplementing the income of a son in the army. Theideal of the artisan and of the " master " was asimilar one. He expected his trade to support him,together with his family and the journeymen andapprentices, who lived under his roof and formedpart of his household. 'He never dreamt of extendinghis output indefinitely, but only aspired to the lifeof a self-supporting producer, who faithfully satisfiedthe ordinary demands of a very limited number ofclients, whom no man had the right to lure away fromhim. And, like the craftsman, the tradesman hadno other object than that of earning a livelihoodby disposing of his goods among a more or less re-stricted circle of customers with whose tastes andtraditional needs he was familiar.)./Under these conditions, the general tendency of theage was to protect the position which a man had won,or inherited, against the results of uru-estricted compe-tition and the encroachments of neighbours, who wereeither too greedy or too enterprising. The landed pro-prietor was bound not to allow his lands to lie fallow,or to reduce the number of his tenures or the sum-total of the peasant families for whom he provided alivelihood on his estate ; he was even liable to helpthem in time of difficulty. In return, he was certainof always having at his disposal, through the institu-tion of serfdom and forced labour, the service whichwas necessary for the cultivation of his property.In a similar way, the artisans were protected by theirguilds, which, although they were fast dying out,still existed in rough outline at the beginning of thenineteenth century. These guilds had the effect ofcreating, in every town, a sort of monopoly, basedeither upon law or upon usage, in favour of the

CAPITALISTIC ENTERPRISE 5" masters " of the various trades, and of limiting thecompetition between the masters themselves in sucha way as to prevent the appropriation of raw materialand labour by a few individuals and to hinder thediversion of custom.

This idea of a " competency " gradually gave way 1to that of " free enterprise." From the end of the ^eighteenth century protestations resounded on every [side against the barriers which barred the path to Jprivate initiative. The old organisation of the ruralcommunity, which, by the partition of an estate andthe inextricable mingling of the allotments, made allthe inhabitants of a village dependent upon eachother and forced them to cultivate their land accord-ing to a traditional plan laid down by the eldersof the place for use throughout the entire area ofcultivation, was set aside. The people rebelled '^against the feudal system of a landed aristocracy,which placed the peasant in a position of absolutesubjection to his lord and denied him the oppor-tunity of ever winning economic independence.They complained of the countless obstacles placedby the guilds in the way of the natural growth ofindustry and commerce ; but, above all, they pro-tested against the tutelary administration of theenlightened despotism, which, in the eighteenthcentury, reserved for itself all initiative in economicmatters and regulated, down to the smallest detail,the life and productive powers of the nation. Thephysiocrats in France, and Adam Smith in England,proclaimed the blessings of laisser-faire, and a similarspirit inspired William of Humboldt, in his celebratedpamphlet on the " Limits of State Interference

"

(1795), to raise an energetic protest against a bureau-cratic system which made man into a machine, cast

6 EVOLUTION OF MODERN GERMANYofficials in the moulds of slavery, and stifled all inde-pendent action in the masses.At the beginning of the nineteenth century, after

the annihilation of Prussia at Jena, these ideas

\ tended to gain the upper hand among the patriots,7 who set themselves the task of raising their native) land from the dust. In their opinion, the weakness

') of Prussia relative to the French Empire was due' to the fact that, whilst in France the Revolution hadroused the whole nation to take a share in publiclife, enlightened despotism and the feudal systemhad crushed out every trace of spontaneity in Prussia.They accordingly set themselves the task of awaken-ing the national conscience, of breathing life intothe sluggish mass which constituted the PrussianState, and of transforming it into an organismin which every limb was alive and co-operated

C-, freely in the work of the whole system. They'-. persuaded the king to carry out from above the/' Revolution which the French people accomplished) from below.^ It was imperative for the nation to be set freefrom feudal and administrative tutelage. Absoluterule, which was incapable, on its own resources, ofmaking good the evils caused by the war, or of pro-viding any effective relief for the various grievancesof private individuals, abdicated its economic pre-rogatives and decided to " suppress every obstaclewhich had hitherto been able to prevent any indi-vidual from attaining that degree of prosperity towhich his powers entitled him to raise himself." Inevery department of the administration, Stein en-deavoured to introduce the principle of autonomy.

^ Stein, and afterwards Hardenberg, attempted toy raise the condition of the rural population by abolish-

CAPITALISTIC ENTERPRISE 7

ing serfdom, allowing the redemption of forced}labour, setting the tenant free from his lord's estate, ;and the peasant from the village community, and yiby favouring the formation of a class of independent Zpeasantry who possessed their own land. In the/towns they enfranchised the Third Estate by pro-?claiming the freedom of industry and commerce,sdestroying the guild system, and granting parochial devotion to the dynasties which had hitherto beentheir chief instrument of power. It is true that inPrussia also the forces of reaction triumphed. Theofficials of all kinds were subjected to a stricter disci-pline, and found themselves reduced to the alternativeeither of resigning or of becoming the docile weaponsof the central power. The right of forming societies 1was practically restricted to those who were friendly \to the Government. The press was sedulously gaggedand reduced to impotence. The all-powerful policeforce made its heavy fist felt everywhere, and all toocomplacent tribunals sanctioned, by audacious inter-

126 EVOLUTION OF MODERN GERMANY

pretations of the law, the most arbitrary actions on

the part of the central power. But the feudalisticand revivalist Right, nevertheless, did not succeed indestroying the parliamentary institutions which hadbeen accepted by the Government, nor in restoring theedifice of social privilege, nor in founding that Chris-tian state of which romanticists dreamt.On the day following that on which the King of

Prussia, thanks to the support of the army, dissolvedthe National Assembly elected after the March Re-volution, and thus re-established by force of armsthe sovereign authority which he had at one moment

j> seemed on the point of abdicating, he promulgated a> written constitution almost identical with the one he) had presented only a short time previously to theNational Assembly, and containing the fundamentalclauses of the Belgian Constitution. This consti-tution satisfied, at least in theory, the chief demandsof the Liberal Party ; it officially proclaimed theliberty of the subject and civil equality, and instituteda representative system in addition to the royalauthority. In short, to the great disgust of theextreme feudalists, it put an end, once for all, to thereign of autocracy, and organised the co-operationof the Crown and the people on a definite system.

[ It is true that the concessions made by the King4 were more apparent than real. The monarch pre- served his sovereignty and his entire independenceof the Chambers. The Lower House, held in checkby the House of Lords, had no real influence over theGovernment. The method of election to the LowerHouse was such as to secure the preponderating voiceto the most highly taxed electors. Prussia, therefore,did not suddenly become a parliamentary statesheremained an absolute monarchy, on to which had been

FOUNDATION OF UNITY 127

more or less badly grafted the chief characteristicsof a constitutional system. But at least the Crownhad had the wisdom not to profit by its victory inorder completely to overwhelm its foes. It had hadthe good sense to assimilate a large part of the Liberalprogramme and institute of its own free will a systemwhich was on the whole acceptable to the more mode-rate among the middle classes of Germany. By these -.clever concessions, which did not weaken its influence \or compromise its authority, it succeeded in con-\^ciliating the sympathies of an important section of \public opinion, and thus consolidated its power ona broader and more secure foundation.With the accession of William to power, first as

Prince Regent and then as King, and, above all, withthe appointment of Bismarck to the post of PrimeMinister, the attitude of the Prussian Throne to-wards the various political parties became still moreclearly defined.

It proclaimed itself more loftily than ever a mon-archy by right divine. The king possessed, by virtueof a special grace, the instinct for supreme decisionswhich would realise the will of God upon earth. Inhis hands were placed the right and the duty of dis-posing, in accordance with the dictates of his in-spiration, of all the vital forces which togetherconstituted the strength of the nation. In Prussia,the king, according to Bismarck, was not a mereornamental accessory of the constitutional edifice

;

he did not only reignhe governed. After havingbeen illuminated by the advice of his councillors, hegave his orders in the plenitude of his sovereignty.He was free to choose the ministers in whom hereposed confidence, without Parliament having anyright to impose upon him the councillors whom they

128 EVOLUTION OF MODERN GERMANYwanted. Upon him, in the last resort, rested theright of deciding the great questions of armaments,

diplomacy, peace and war, and the ratification oftreaties ; the House had no business to interfere inthese matters over which it possessed no jurisdiction.And lastly he had the right of supplying all " de-ficiencies " in the constitution and of ensuring, ifthe need arose, the normal working of the State onhis own responsibility alone, and of acting on his owninitiative without the consent of Parliament, in anycase in which the usually necessary agreementbetween the wUl of the king and the House hadfailed to be secured.But the royal will did not draw its inspiration

only from the feudalists of the Right. It acted inaccordance with the sum-total of all the nationalforces. It was the necessary arbitrator between theparties who struggled for power, but was the prisonerof none of them. And Bismarck excelled in dis-covering this aggregate of the national will.About 1860 he gauged with marvellous accuracy

the power which the love of monarchy had amongthe mass of the people in Prussia. He realised thatthe immense majority of the nation, sick of politicalagitation and little desirous of renewing the attemptwhich had failed in 1848, would gladly range itselfbehind a master who was capable of satisfying thefundamental aspirations of the new realistic andpositivist generation and its will to economic andpolitical power. And thus with admirable certaintyof instinct he determined the bold outlines of hispolicy. An imperialist with regard to foreign affairs,he led Prussia with indefatigable zeal and energy tothe conquest of Germany, and thus succeeded incontenting both the champions of Prussian expan-


sion and the believers in German unity, as the victoryof Prussia seemed definitely to promise the practicalrealisation of the dream of unification. An upholderof absolutism at home, he satisfied the loyalty ofthe country to the Crown by maintaining the royalauthority intact. But he also reconciled the capi- ^talist middle class by giving his support to the new )movement towards a system of enterprise, and he '

remained sufficiently free from all class prejudiceand from any taint of Conservative doctrinairism tobe able, when the decisive crisis arrived, to appealin all sincerity to the support of democratic publicopinion. In 1866 he brought against the reactionaryfederalism of Austria the identical Liberal programmeof 1848, including the convocation of a Germanparliament elected by the universal suffrage of thewhole nation, from which Austria was to be excluded.And whilst the policy of Bismarck was grouping

all the forces of the nation around the Prussian-,Throne, it was working at the same time to raise the f>might of Prussia to its highest power in every do-

130 EVOLUTION OF MODERN GERMANYforces of Prussia, largely increased and modernised,became an excellently drilled and disciplined weaponof war, kept well in hand by the King, and ready toact at the first signal against any adversary thatmight be pointed out. Moreover, the diplomacy of

/Bismarck was constantly engaged in placing every


Confederation. A constitution, which ingeniously re-conciled the claims of unity and particularism, whichpreserved the independence of the princes whilst itsecured the undeniable supremacy of the King ofPrussia and the close cohesion of the whole countryin the face of the foreigner, bound the states togetherby a solid tie without suppressing their individualityor enslaving them, at all events openly, to Prussia.And the latter, owing to her size, and thanks to theglory of victory, found herself in the first place inthe position to dominate the Confederation of theNorth. Moreover, she exercised an irresistible powerof attraction over the states situated south of the -

Main, who were destined to form the Confederation V*of the South, and who already found themselves

^

bound to the Confederation of the North by thematerial tie of the Zollverein. The Customs Unionbetween these two gifbups in Germany prepared theway for their political unity. It only required the /*princes of the Southern Confederation to be repre-sented in the Bundesrat and for the Customs Parlia-ment, which every year united the delegates of theSouth with those of the North for the discussion ofindirect taxation, to extend its functions to thedomain of politics and legislation, for the GermanEmpire to be realised. As early as 1867 Bismarckasserted in the Reichstag : " From the day that theConfederation of the South becomes a reality andonly two national parliaments meet in Germany, nohuman power will be able to prevent their joiningany more than the waters of the Red Sea cpuldhave remained divided after the crossing of thehosts of Israel."

The war of 1870, by uniting the whole of Germany

132 EVOLUTION OF MODERN GERMANYin a paroxysm of hatred against the hereditary foe,

Iput the finishing touches to the work of unification,

^ which had remained incomplete in 1866, and gavebirth to the German Empire.The causes of this war are still very obscure. It is

impossible, even to-day, to tell with absolute cer-tainty the exact intentions of the leading statesmeneither on the French or the German side.At all events it is in the first place certain that

France, generally speaking, did not want war. Themyth, upheld by Bismarck and afterwards repeated

,ad nauseam by official historians, of a bellicose and

^vindictive France who had long been brooding an'^invasion, and who, in the belief that her forceswere superior, would suddenly have attacked peace-loving and unsuspecting Germany under the mostfrivolous of pretexts, cannot hold water.As a matter of fact, the soul of France was torn in

two by conflicting sentiments. At heart no onewanted war. The Emperor, who was a phlegmaticfatalist, had faith in the wisdom of the nations, andbelieved in the gradual pacification of all men's minds.His advisers^the most clear-sighted at least^couldnot shut their eyes to the possibility of a strugglewith the victors of Sadowa. The middle classes, un-accustomed to warlike virtues and the spirit ofsacrifice, dominated by the love of comfort andluxury, in their positivist materialism hated thebarbarism of bloody conflicts between one nation andanother, and gladly plumed themselves on possessinga generous though vague humanitarian idealism.And lastly the great majority of the people was aspeaceably inclined as the middle classes, and nourishedno violent animosity against neighbours of whomit knew next to nothing. But, on the other


hand, France could not disguise the fact that afterSadowa all national security was at an end, and that/the birth of a bold and ambitious military power/'upon her eastern frontier was a serious menace to


in words and schemes without ever resulting in apractical act or a virile resolution.

The public opinion of Germany was infinitelysimpler and more decided. Hatred for the frivolous,vain, and blustering Welsche,^ resentment againstthe perfidious nation, which in 1815 had only escapedthe extermination it deserved, thanks to the ill-timedand cowardly weakness of England and Russia, thedesire to win back Alsace, which had been fraudu-lently snatched away from the German Empire byLouis XIV., were feelings very generally prevalentin Germany, especially in Prussia, and revivedperiodically, with an elemental force, during thenineteenth century, every time that Germany im-agined herself menaced by the ambitions of France.These feelings had much greater consistency andreal weight than the superficial Chauvinism, whichbefore 1870 made itself conspicuous in Franceby its vain boasting and harmless chatter. Ger-many, moreover, had at her head a man who knewwhat he wanted, and realised all the advantage hecould derive from this hatred of the hereditary foein order to put the coping-stone to the edifice ofGerman unity.Did Bismarck in the bottom of his heart share the

national prejudice against the hereditary enemy ? Itmay well be doubted ; and French historians havepointed out that he was at all events free from anytaint of romantic Chauvinism, and perhaps betterable than the majority of his fellow-countrymen torender justice to the sterling qualities of their race.It is suggested that he even believed in the inevitablenecessity of a Franco-German war, and that he

^ A term applied generally to the foreigner by the ancientTeutons, just as the Anglo-Saxons used the word Welsh.

Tr.


worked systematically to hasten its outbreak. Thequestion as to the exact date on which the necessityfor war became clear in his mind has often beendiscussed. Did this happen in 1866, when the in-discreet attempt of France to act as mediator, andthe blustering of the imperial press, unloosed aunanimous paroxysm of rage throughout the wholeof Germany ? Was the Luxemburg affair a traplaid for the French Government to push France intowar ? Or did Bismarck only make his decision in1869, when he realised that Bavaria would never jointhe German Confederation peacefully of her own freewill, and that it was necessary to reduce her tothe dilemma of either marching with France againstGermany or with Germany against France ? No onecan tell for certain. But the fact which is beyond-^dispute is that sooner or later the hour arrived whenkBismarck was convinced that war was inevitable, as yFrance would never resign herself to the formation \of a great military power on her frontier, and that (consequently she must not be allowed to choose herown time, but must be forestalled. Nothing, more- nover, would be a better seal for German unity than*^,blood spilt upon the common field of battle. Ger-man unity under the hegemony of Prussia had beenimposed upon Austria and Germany by the war of1866 ; it only remained to impose it upon the restof the world by a national war against France, whichwould convince Europe of the power of unitedGermany.From the day that Bismarck realised this neces-

sity he decided upon his plan of action. It wasnecessary to hasten the outbreak of war. But itwas also essential to make France the aggressor.We all know the consummate art with which he

136 EVOLUTION OF MODERN GERMANYmade capital out of the state of exasperation andirritation existing in French public opinion to pre-cipitate France into a war which, in the bottom ofher heart, she did not want, and which a little level-headedness might have been enough to ward off. Wealso know how he forced the Imperial Governmentinto committing the irrevocable mistake of appear-ing to be the disturber of the public peace, and thusput every semblance of right on his side, while hepersuaded his countrymen and the rest of Europethat Germany was the victim of an unjustifiable actof aggression. The war might perhaps have beenavoided had the French Government known how toobtain a clear conviction that a pacific spirit wasprevalent in the country, and had France remainedcalm in the presence of the cunning methods where-by her adversary tried to rouse her into action.From this point of view, certainly, the onus ofthe war rests upon the French nation. But thewill that desired it most passionately, that plottedand planned it with a fully conscious cleverness,and which in the end made it inevitable by his" audacious emendations " of the Ems despatch,was without a shadow of doubt Bismarck. And thisdesire was not due to the arbitrary resolution ofpersonal ambition. Bismarck had the firm convic-tion that in letting loose the dogs of war he wasleading his country to the fulfilment of her divinemission ; he was the incarnation of the will to power

C of imperial Germany, which impelled her to regaini'^her position in Europe and brought her, after cen-ifturies of eclipse and humiliation, to the thresholdof a glorious and prosperous future.When the verdict of war had been pronounced,

when for the second time the boldness of the great


minister had been crowned with success, and whenon January 18, 1871, in the Galerie des Glaces atVersailles, King William had resumed " the throneof the German Empire, which had remained vacantfor over sixty years," national unity was once forall secured. It is true that the treaties by whichthe southern states, like Bavaria, Wurtemberg, andBaden, were in their turn bound to the Confederationof the North proved at first a disappointment to theLiberal believers in unity. They would have liked aradical reconstruction of Germany, and dreamt of agreat kingdom with a strong central government.But the " reserved rights " which Bismarck con-sented to recognise in the southern states were merelyharmless, formal concessions made to particularistsusceptibilities or prejudices, and were never a realmenace to the unity of the nation. The Germanprinces kept up the appearance of a fairly wideautonomy ; but in reality they had lost all effectivepower for ever. The rivalries which had .beforeparalysed the strength of Germany could never againarise ; they were from that time forward reducedto the level of insignificant provincial bickerings,to which no serious importance could be attached.After the war of 1870 there were no longer anystates in Germany, but only provinces. The author-ity of the Emperor grew stronger and stronger,and the institutions of the Empire were developedon lines favourable to unity. The new Germanyfounded by Bismarck was not merely a federationof independent states, but a really strong militarymonarchy hardly less centralised than the other y-states of Europe. '

iCHAPTER IV

THE GERMAN EMPIRE AND HER FOREIGN POLICY

Force had accomplished the task in which free willhad failed. Conquered by Prussian bayonets andthen led forward to victory under the auspices ofPrussia, Germany had succeeded in gaining unity,not by virtue of any spontaneous decision on thepart of the nation, but through the indomitable willto power of the Prussian State. But none the lesshad she attained the goal towards which her hopeshad soared for a whole century. The Empire wasrestored. And from that moment Germany becamesincerely desirous of peace. Indeed, it is a remark-able fact, and one entirely to the credit of the nation,that her successes in war did not inspire her with alust for battle or tempt her to continue the exten-sion of her territory by force of arms. After 1870neither the people nor their rulers desired fresh wars.They realised that Germany was " satiated," andthat she required long years of peace in order toconsolidate her conquests, organise her internalaffairs, and develop her industry. All classes alikelonged for peace.But the position Germany had won by force of

arms could not be maintained unless she commandedthe respect of her adversaries by the superiority ofher power.

138

THE EMPIRE AND FOREIGN POLICY 139

Internal difficulties, it is true, were no longer to

be feared. Germans quickly forgave Prussia forhaving handled them rather roughly in order to leadthem to unity. Complaints were, indeed, occasion-ally heard of Prussian pride and arrogance. Butthe bitterness which existed here and there and thetrifling differences which occasionally arose in noway compromised the feeling of national solidarity, yParticularism had been conquered once for all, and of invalidity. Thus the progress of public education

MODERN POLITICAL IDEALISM 193

their ecclesiastical character. The universities be-came scientific institutions, and the chief place inthem to-day is no longer occupied as it once was bytheologians, or even, as was the case at the beginningof the nineteenth century, by philosophers or philolo-gists, but by men of science and doctors of medicine.The German public school, a type of institution whichcame into being at the beginning of the nineteenthcentury, has no longer anything ecclesiastical aboutit either. It is entirely impregnated by that classicaland neo-Hellenic spirit which spread about thattime throughout Germany, and it dispenses an en-clyclopsedic instruction, including philology andhistory, mathematics and natural science. Andlastly the schools in their turn have detached them-selves from the Church, and under the impulse givenby Pestalozzi, consciously strive to stimulate theirpupils to spontaneity and activity, and to developin them, in accordance with the ethical doctrinesof Kant, the belief in free autonomous personality.And if, even as late as about the middle of theeighteenth century, popular instruction maintaineda strictly denominational character, especially inCatholic districts, the elementary schools of the nine-teenth century tended more and more, owing to theimportance ascribed to the teaching of the Germanlanguage and German history, to become nationalschools, in which the cult of the Fatherland was in-culcated upon the minds of the children like a secondreligion.

Nevertheless, the Church still possesses, even to-day,a fairly important influence in Germany, especiallyin the domain of elementary education. The schoolshave as a rule remained denominational, and con-tinue to give dogmatic instructionalthough it is

13

194 EVOLUTION OF MODERN GERMANYsomewhat paradoxical to see Catholic, Lutheran, anddissenting establishments teaching, under the pat-ronage of the State, absolutely contradictory religioustruths. They are even subjected, in many cases,to ecclesiastical inspection. It is, indeed, assertedthat more and more numerous protestations are beingraised against this condition of things. Those whoobject complain of being forced to see their childrentaught doctrines which are contrary to their ownfaith or to their scientific beliefs. In the teachingbody, above all, many masters protest against beingobliged to give religious instruction in accordance withthe tenets of a creed which is at variance with theirown deepest convictions. An important section ofpublic opinion demands the immediate institution ofSimultanschulen which shall include pupils of everydenomination. Nevertheless, Germany does not forthe moment seem disposed to " dechristianise " theschools. Even free-thinkers, who are not subject toany denominational narrowness, regard the radicalsecularisation of education in Germany as neitherpossible nor even desirable. They are convincedthat if ever the schools become " atheistic," a largepart of the population of the Empire, among theCatholics especially, will leave the State schoolsand organise private schools in which the childrenwill receive the religious instruction their parentsregard as indispensable. And, moreover, many Ger-mans do not consider the " neutral " school of theFrench type as by any means a model to becopied. Paulsen, one of the most influential andhighly esteemed historians of education in Germany,is of the opinion that although Catholic Francewas obliged to institute a secular and neutral schoolsystem for education to be made national, this neces-

MODERN POLITICAL IDEALISM 195sity fortunately does not exist in the case of Germans.The very circumstances of their religious history havemade them accustomed to reconcile science and re-ligion, knowledge and faith ; they have in the Bible apeerless instrument of moral culture, which the finest" chosen extracts from the literature of the world "

could not replace. There is consequently nothing toprevent the teachers " from keeping religious instruc-tion and the Bible in their hands," and from mouldingthe minds of German children by teaching them theelements of a historic and interdenominational Chris-tianity, shorn of its dogmatic character, and reducedto its moral principles. And I should not be sur-prised if these conciliatory views of Paulsen weremore in harmony with the general opinion of thecountry than the more radical doctrine which wouldbanish all religious instruction from the schools.At the same time as public instruction emancipated ^'

itself from the Church, it also became more demo-^

cratic.

Education had from the beginning been the privi-lege of a caste. There had first of all existed in Ger-many in the Middle Ages a clerical culture ; this wasfollowed by a worldly and aristocratic culture, fromthe Renaissance to the eighteenth century, and lastlyby a middle-class culture, when, with the diffusion ofrationalism and neo-Hellenism, the middle classes ofGermany took the lead in the intellectual movement.During the nineteenth century a gradual approach wasmade to the national culture preached by Fichte inhis Discourses to the German Nation.The barriers between the various kinds of instruc-

tion were gradually lowered. Latin ceased to be thelanguage necessary for all high culture, and thegrammar school lost more and more of its character

196 EVOLUTION OF MODERN GERMANYas a " Latin school " of the old order. On the otherhand, the progress made by the elementary schoolsbrought them constantly nearer to the level of thesecondary schools, and the distinction between themasters who had been trained in the seminaries{Seminarisch gebildet) and those who had received auniversity education {Akademisch gebildet) graduallygrew less and less. But above all education in everyrank assumed an ever more realistic and practicalcharacter. The culture of the higher classes of societywas at the end of the eighteenth century chieflysesthetic and literary, and the classical education ofthe public school at the beginning of the nineteenthcentury was of a similar nature. But we have alreadyseen the evolution towards realism, which took placeamong the educated classes in consequence of thedevelopment of the system of enterprise. This evo-lution was very naturally reflected in the domain oflearning. Instruction in all ranks became lessexclusively literary or philosophical, less confined tobooks. In addition to the classical public school,there came into being the more modern type ofpolytechnic and of technical and commercial schools{Realgymnasium, Oberrealschule, Bealschule, Reform-gymnasium), which, by increasing the attention paidto the teaching of science and living languages, cor-responded better with the needs of the middle classesengaged in trade and commerce. Side by sidewith the universities, technical institutes {TechnischeHochschulen) everywhere sprang up and grew moreflourishing, and were held in higher esteem every day.And thus the old distinction which separated theclassical and philological " man of letters " of the pastfrom the " unlettered " man who had no knowledgeof the classical languages, tended gradually to dis-


appear. Thus the idea of a specifically aesthetic andphilological culture reserved for the intellectual

elite alone, little by little gave way to the moredemocratic conception of a universal culture, aninfinitely complex and differentiated one it is true,which nobody was expected to assimilate in itsentirety, and which was not the same for all, but ofwhich each individual was at liberty to appropriatewhatever he could, according to the measure of hisintellectual or physical abilities.

In short, Germany, during the course of the lastcentury, worked with untiring energy to dispenseinstruction with an ever more liberal hand to all herchildren. It is true that her enthusiasm for the taskof education had many ups and downs. It wasexceedingly intense during the first thirty years of thecentury, when the foundations for the reorganisationof public instruction from the elementary schools tothe universities were laid. It cooled down in anextraordinary way in the course of the second fortyyears of the century, when, during the revolutionaryand reactionary era between 1830 and 1870, thevarious governments showed themselves suspiciouseven to the point of hostility with regard to the taskof public education. But it was rekindled once moreafter the great military triumphs of Prussia and therestoration of the Empire. It is regarded as anaxiom that it was the German teacher who really wonSadowa and Sedan, and that the victories of Germanyare essentially due to the superiority of her culture.But it cannot be denied that doubts are again be-

ginning to be felt to-day with regard to the efficaciousvirtue of education. In university circles it is possibleto discover symptoms of fatigue here and there, anda state of mind similar to that which drove certain

198 EVOLUTION OF MODERN GERMANYthinkers in France to proclaim " the bankruptcy ofscience." The melancholy observation is made thatscience, from which some complete conception of theuniverse was expected, and a general guidance to directthe will of man, never results in any definite orabsolute truths, but only gives partial and pro-visional solutions, which are always open to revisionand correction. Many a man feels himself weigheddown by the enormous mass of knowledge which mustbe assimilated by any one who wants to be " up todate " in any particular branch of science, and isalso not a little discouraged by the state of perpetualdevelopment and by the endless evolution into whichscience is always plunged.

In the ruling class and in certain middle-classcircles also, the pessimistic tendencies which wereprevalent about the middle of the century occasionallyreappear to-day. Men are beginning to wonderwhether the task of popular instruction has notbeen carried to inordinate lengthswhether, forthe greater part of the nation, education is notmore a source of danger than of benefit, and whetherpeople are not infinitely more difficult to govern

when they are half-educated. The anxiety causedby the recent progress of Socialism may have helpedto spread these doubts in circles which, only a shorttime ago, would never for a moment have enter-tained them, but really believed that the State hadno more pressing duty than to give education on aliberal scale to all its subjects.

Nevertheless, generally speaking, the average

opinion is, in the words of Paulsen, that " in theuniversal struggle for power and pre-eminence,the superiority will rest with those nations whohave succeeded best in securing for their children


a solid education and culture by means of well-equipped schools, and by the formation of economi-cally prosperous and morally healthy families."The successes attained by Germany are attributedto the fact that she forestalled other countries bystarting compulsory education early in the day,and by applying her mind to training excellentteachers for every branch of instruction. Andthe conclusion is drawn that the ignorance of themasses can never be a guarantee of order andstability in the State, that the obvious interestsof the monarchy demand an ever wider diffusionof knowledge, and that the future belongs to thosenations who have solved the problem of nationaleducation most successfully.

II

At the same time as it pursues an ideal of nationalculture, the German State also forms a clearerconception of the social mission it is called uponto fulfil.

And, indeed, the development of the system offree enterprise puts the social question into anabsolutely new form. All the relationships of -jpersonal dependence which formerly existed between \the employer and his men, between the lord and \his peasants, the master and his journeymen andCapprentices, disappeared during the nineteenth cen-

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tury. The labourer no longer owes his time, or part /of his time, as he once did, to a master to whomhe is personally subjected. In this respect he is freedfrom any sort of obligation. He is at liberty tosell his laboixr under the best possible conditions,and no one can force him to accept a contract for


work which he considers unfair or merely disad-vantageous. But the worker, in breaking the per-sonal bonds which united him to his master, alsoat the same time lost the right of being protectedby him. The modern capitalist who purchaseslabour has the right to secure this commodity on theconditions most advantageous to himself, and withouthaving to worry his head about ensuring a com-petency for those he employs when he does notneed their services any longer.

Theoretically, the " liberty " of the worker andthat of the employer are supposed to balance eachother. The one is free not to sell his labour underunfavourable conditions ; the other, on his side,is free not to buy the labour for which too high aprice is asked. Thus by the normal interplay ofsupply and demand the just price of labour shouldbe established in a natural way.But as a matter of fact the extreme precariousness

of labour under the system of free enterprise is wellknown. It is in the first' place exposed withoutany protection to all kinds of risksillness, accident,old age, and unemploymentwhich are constantlyweighing down the life of the working man. And,moreover, it is clear that he is very far from beingin a position, as a rule, to contest the conditions ofhis contract with his employer " freely." He is,

^in the last resort, obliged to sell his labour under/pain of dying of hunger. And he therefore con-stantly runs the risk of having disastrous termsdictated to him by an unscrupulous employer whois ready to speculate on his need. A great problemis thus presented to modern society. It has becomeimperative to organise upon a new basis the pro-tection afforded to workers, which under the patri-


archal system, was provided by the lord or theemployer. It was necessary to find a remedy forthe condition of the labourer by the developmentof workmen's insurance schemes, and by institutingnormal relationships between an employer and hismen. The maintenance of public health and nationalstrength and the preservation of social peace de-pended upon the solution found for this problem.German public opinion soon recognised the evils

produced by the system of free enterprise, andrealised the necessity of fighting them. As earlyas the 'forties there was founded in Berlin an Asso-ciation for the Improvement of the Condition ofLabourers and Artisans, which was recruited chieflyfrom the ranks of those engaged in enterprise, andreceived a large donation from the King of Prussia,Frederick William IV., himself. About the sametime the first signs of Christian Socialism began toappear. Men like Wichern, the founder of theHome^Mission, on the Protestant side, and the priestKet^er on the Catholic side, drove the Church todescend into the region of practical acts, and preachedthe fundamental application of Christian moralityto social life. Then the political economists in theirturn came upon the scene, and in the name of sciencerose up against the gospel of unrestricted competitionand the doctrines of Adam Smith and the ManchesterSchool. During the 'forties the trend of thoughtafterwards known as " Pulpit Socialism " came intobeing, and resulted in 1872 in the foundation ofthe Social Policy Association, whose principal mem-bers were scientific men like Brentano and Nasse,Schmoller and Schoenberg.

Thus, whilst the Socialists looked for the cure ofall the evils from which the masses were suffering

202 EVOLUTION OF MODERN GERMANYto the conquest of power by the democracy and aradical upheaval of the social order, a constantlygrowing group, consisting of members of the capi-talist middle classes, Protestant and CatholicChristians, and political economists, supported, ontheir side, a gradual reform of the obvious and un-deniable abuses of the capitalistic system. Amongthese reformers some saw in the Church and Christianprinciples the chief power capable of regeneratingmodern society. Others preferred to pin their faithupon the State to put an end to the oppression anddegradation of the lower classes. The part thelatter played in the evolution of Germany is veryimportant. The Prussian State, and afterwardsthe German Empire, as we shall see, has to a largeextent adopted their programme and gone far enoughalong the path of State Socialism.But it must also be admitted that, although the

Government has given at least partial satisfactionto certain Socialist demands, it remains invariablyhostile to the tendencies of the Democratic SocialistParty. It is true that it is perfectly conscious ofthe duties it owes to the working classes. Bismarck,for instance, declared in the Reichstag that heaccepted, without hesitation, the Socialistic doctrineof the right to work. He found this idea in embryoin the federal legislation. One of the principles ofthe Prussian Landrecht was that it was unlawful forany one in the kingdom to be reduced to death bystarvation. There was, consequently, no reason whythe modern German Empire should refuse workersthe protection which had been afforded them by theold Prussian monarchy. On the contrary, sternduty called it to take an interest in their fate andto bind them to it by material benefits. On the

MODERN POLITICAL IDEALISM 203other hand, however, the Government would noton any account tolerate the social upheaval ofwhich the followers of Marx dreamt. It opposedevery effort on the part of the democracy and itsadherents to take in hand the direction of publicaffairs, and defended the prerogatives of the Crownagainst them with the greatest energy. It vigorouslyopposed all revolutionary or even merely republicantendencies. In short, the German State was by nomeans in subjection to the capitalist middle classes,but meant to play the part of a loyal arbitratorbetween employers and employed. But if it wasdetermined to put a curb upon the absolute power

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of the masters, it did not, on the other hand, tolerate iany attempts on the part of the workers to bring -pressure to bear upon it or to dictate their ownterms.

The workers, on their side, had but a very limitedconfidence in the feudalistic, capitalist, and middle-class State, and they were impatient of being heldin tutelage by it. They suspected it of partialityand weakness towards employers, and regarded itless as a just arbitrator than as an ally of theiradversaries. Just as there existed in the heartof the Government a mixture of sympathy andsuspicion with regard to the working classes, therewas noticeable among the workers a deep-seatedmistrust of the capitalistic State. And it was notastonishing if, under these circumstances, the workof social reform advanced with a somewhat unevenand capricious pace.

Until the end of the 'seventies, and as long asBismarck relied chiefly upon the National Liberalsfor support, his economic policy was, very naturally,also " Liberal." The State did not, so to speak.

204 EVOLUTION OF MODERN GERMANYintervene in order to restrict free competition. TheChancellor, it is true, felt " that there was much tobe done for the working man," and he endeavouredto get enlightenment with regard to the socialquestion from all quarters, and drew his informationas much from Wagener, the sociologist of the partiesof the Right, as from Lassalle, Rodbertus, andDiihring, or the Pulpit Socialists. But for thetime being he limited all positive action to a fewdiscreet attempts to organise co-operative schemesof production, and to a few measures for the pro-tection of the working man, which were of no greatsignificance or any real effective power.But in 1878, after the attempts made by Hcedel

and Nobiling upon the life of the Emperor William,Bismarck took in hand the task of fighting thedangerous progress of the Socialist Party by meansof drastic measures, and applied his mind to thesevere repression of the impetus towards emancipa-tion which was beginning to manifest itself amongthe masses. And, moreover, he also inauguratedat precisely the same moment a social policy ofa perfectly fresh kind. In short, he completelyrealised that the solution of the social questionrequired something more than coercion, and thatpositive benefits were needed. And it was for thisreason that at the same time as he suppressed

s," Socialist excesses " with the severity which is

> familiar to all, he also endeavoured to " improve', the condition of the working man by substantialconcessions." He perceived quite clearly the graveevils which unrestricted competition entailed for themasses, and he considered that the State ought togive such help and protection to the workers as itcould safely do without injuring the great industries

MODERN POLITICAL IDEALISM 205or placing too heavy a burden upon them. " Wewish to create the greatest possible contentment,"said the Chancellor. And to this he added, withan eye to the eventuality which might necessitatea bloody suppression of revolutionary intrigues

:

" I say this in case we have to come to blows."From this moment an era of social reform was in-

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augurated for Germany. Bismarck now relied chiefly ,upon the Conservatives, who for a long time pasthad shown a disposition to criticise the industrialismof the towns, and were quite ready to support apolicy which set itself the task of destroying theabuses of the capitalistic system. He was, more-over, supported in this object by the Catholic Party,who, ever since the middle of the century, had feltthe necessity of reforming society in accordancewith the principles of Christian morality. With thehelp of this majority, which was increased by theadherence of a few powerful industrialists, like Baronvon Stumm, who wished for the re-establishment ofpatriarchal relations between masters and men, theChancellor undertook the task of laying the founda-tions of the great scheme of workmen's protectionwith which he desired to endow the country. Andafter years of struggle he succeeded at last in securingthe triumph of his ideas. Under his initiative, andthanks to his tenacious will, the great laws of socialinsurance of which Germany is justly proud to-dayinsurance against sickness and against accident,invalidity and old age pensionswere drawn up andforced upon the acceptance of the Emperor, theFederal Council, and Parliament. It is true thatfrom the lack of sufficient resources he was not ableto carry out the work on as ample a scale as he hadintended. He was refused a monopoly in tobacco,


which would have formed the " patrimony of thedisinherited," and would have allowed him to dis-pense succour and pensions to the masses of Germanywith a less niggardly hand. But even as it is, andin spite of its imperfections, the system of workmen'sinsurance in Germany is an exceedingly impressivemonument, and forms one of the most lasting titlesto glory of the great Chancellor.Thus the German workman found himself insured

against some of the greatest risks which the develop-ment of the system of capitalistic enterprise broughtin its train. On the other hand, hardly anythinghad been accomplished in the direction of protectinglabour. The right of forming societies and the rightto go out on strike were badly secured. Women andchildren, in the absence of sufficient regulations forwork, were exposed to the most ruthless exploita-tion. Arbitration was not regularly organised. Theinspection of work remained almost an illusion, owingto the limited number of inspectors and the inefficacyof the control they were allowed to exercise. Nothingwas done to improve this state of things. Everyscheme of reform came up against the passive resist-ance of Bismarck. In fact, the Chancellor did notwish to enter upon this path systematically. Headmitted that the insurance laws, by bringing intobeing a host of people with small independent means,put the working classes under the protection andin the power of the State. He hoped, on the otherhand, to attach the class of contractors to his causeby refraining from passing too rigorous measures forthe protection of labour, and by thus leaving theformer free to organise industrial work to the bestadvantage for themselves. Thus the employers andthe men alike found themselves in a position of

MODERN POLITICAL IDEALISM 207dependence upon the State. But Bismarck regardedthis as a good thing. In case the working classesever showed any indiscreet desire to free themselvesfrom this control, there always remained the possi-bility of having recourse to military measures ofrepression to keep them in the path of duty.The check which this over-clever policy of balance

received is well known. The working classes neverfor a single moment felt inspired by any affection

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for the State. They accepted as their due the pen- ('sions and compensations which the insurance laws ;gave them. But they did not feel the smallest grati-,-^'tude towards the statesman who presumed to keepthe masses under control because he had conferred

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material benefits upon them, denied them the right (of organising, and persecuted the trade unions. Bis- Imarck's calculations accordingly did not work out (as he had expected. Arrested for a moment in its \ascent by the police regulations made after the as-sassination attempts of 1878, Socialism, during thecourse of the 'eighties, once more resumed its upwardmarch.

In 1890 a new era of social reform was inaugurated.The repeal of the law against Socialists, the appoint-ment of Herr von Berlepsch to the Board of Trade,the famous rescripts of William II., the convocationat Berlin of an international commission to preparethe ground for a European understanding on mattersconnected with the protection of labour, and theresignation of Bismarck, marked the beginning of it.The organisation of arbitration tribunals for thesettlement of disputes between employers and theirmen, and the law securing a holiday once a wee

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Anthony Ludovici - Germany and its Evolution in Modern Times (1913).pdf