By Brander Matthews.
Professor of Dramatic Literature at Columbia University;
author of many works on literature and the development of the
drama.
_To the Editor of The New York Times:_
In the earnest and sincere appeals of various distinguished Germans,
Prof. Eucken, Prof. Haeckel, and the several authors of "The Truth About
Germany," we find frequent references to "German culture" as though it
was of a superior quality to the culture of every other nationality; and
we seem to perceive also a sustaining belief that Germany is not only
the defender of civilization, but its foremost exponent. We have no
right to question the good faith of scholars of the high character of
Eucken and Haeckel; and we cannot doubt their being honestly possessed
of the conviction that Germany is the supreme example of a highly
civilized State and the undisputed leader in the arts and sciences which
represent culture. It is plain that these German writers take this for
granted and that they would be indignantly surprised if it should be
questioned.
To an American who feels himself a sharer of the noble heritage of
English literature, and who has sat for more than forty years at the
feet of the masters of French literature, this claim cannot but come as
a startling surprise.
The most obvious characteristic of a highly civilized man is his
willingness to keep his word, at whatever cost to himself. For reasons
satisfactory to itself, Germany broke its pledge to respect the
neutrality of Luxemburg and of Belgium. It is another characteristic of
civilization to cherish the works of art which have been bequeathed to
us by the past. For reasons satisfactory to itself Germany destroyed
Louvain, more or less completely. It is a final characteristic of
civilized man to be humane and to refrain from ill-treating the
blameless. For reasons satisfactory to itself Germany dropped bombs in
the unbesieged City of Antwerp and caused the death of innocent women
and children. Here are three instances where German culture has been
tested and found wanting.
The Standard Bearer of Culture.
But it may be urged that war has its own exigencies and that these three
instances of uncivilized conduct partook of the nature of military
necessities. Turning from the outrages of war to the triumphs of peace,
let us make a disinterested attempt to find out just what foundation
there may be for the implicit assertion that Germany is the standard
bearer of civilization.
Perhaps it is too petty to point out that manners are the outward and
visible sign of civilization, and that in this respect the Germans have
not yet attained to the standard set by the French and the English. But
it is not insignificant to record that the Germans alone retain a
barbaric mediaeval alphabet, while the rest of Western Europe has
adopted the more legible and more graceful Roman letter; and it is not
unimportant to note that German press style is cumbrous and uncouth.
Taken collectively, these things seem to show German culture is a little
lacking in the social instinct, the desire to make things easy and
pleasant for others. It is this social instinct which is the dominating
influence in French civilization and which has given to French
civilization its incomparable urbanity and amenity. It is to the absence
of this social instinct, to the inability to understand the attitude of
other parties to a discussion, to the unwillingness to appreciate their
point of view, that we may ascribe the failure of German diplomacy, a
failure which has left her almost without a friend in her hour of need.
And success in diplomacy is one of the supreme tests of civilization.
The claim asserted explicity or implicitly in behalf of German culture
seems to be based on the belief that the Germans are leaders in the arts
and in the sciences. So far as the art of war is concerned there is no
need today to dispute the German claim. It is to the preparation for war
that Prussia has devoted its utmost energy for half a century--in fact,
ever since Bismarck began to make ready for the seizing of unwilling
Schleswig-Holstein. And so far as the art of music is concerned there is
also no need to cavil.
But what about the other and more purely intellectual arts? How many are
the contemporary painters and sculptors and architects of Germany who
have succeeded in winning the cosmopolitan reputation which has been the
reward of a score of the artists of France and of half a dozen of the
artists of America?
Since Goethe, Who?
When we consider the art of letters we find a similar condition. Germany
has had philosophers and historians of high rank; but in pure
literature, in what used to be called "belles-lettres," from the death
of Goethe in 1832 to the advent of the younger generation of dramatists,
Sudermann and Hauptmann and the rest, in the final decade of the
nineteenth century--that is to say, for a period of nearly sixty
years--only one German author succeeded in winning a worldwide
celebrity--and Heine was a Hebrew, who died in Paris, out of favor with
his countrymen, perhaps because he had been unceasing in calling
attention to the deficiencies of German culture. There were in Germany
many writers who appealed strongly to their fellow-countrymen, but
except only the solitary Heine no German writer attained to the
international fame achieved by Cooper and by Poe, by Walt Whitman and by
Mark Twain. And it was during these threescore years of literary aridity
in Germany that there was a superb literary fecundity in Great Britain
and in France, and that each of these countries produced at least a
score of authors whose names are known throughout the world. Even
sparsely settled Scandinavia brought forth a triumvirate, Björnsen,
Ibsen, and Brandes, without compeers in Germany. And from Russia the
fame of Turgenef and of Tolstoy spread abroad a knowledge of the heart
and mind of a great people who are denounced by Germans as barbarous.
It is probably in the field of science, pure and applied, that the
defenders of the supremacy of German culture would take their last
stand. That the German contribution to science has been important is
indisputable; yet it is equally indisputable that the two dominating
scientific leaders of the second half of the nineteenth century are
Darwin and Pasteur. It is in chemistry that the Germans have been
pioneers; yet the greatest of modern chemists is Mendeleef. It was Hertz
who made the discovery which is the foundation of Marconi's invention;
but although not a few valuable discoveries are to be credited to the
Germans, perhaps almost as many as to either the French or the British,
the German contribution in the field of invention, in the practical
application of scientific discovery, has been less than that of France,
less than that of Great Britain, and less than that of the United
States. The Germans contributed little or nothing to the development of
the railroad, the steamboat, the automobile, the aeroplane, the
telegraph, the telephone, the phonograph, the photograph, the moving
picture, the electric light, the sewing machine, and the reaper and
binder. Even those dread instruments of war, the revolver and the
machine gun, the turreted ship, the torpedo, and the submarine, are not
due to the military ardor of the Germans. It would seem as though the
Germans had been lacking in the inventiveness which is so marked a
feature of our modern civilization.
In this inquiry there has been no desire to deny the value of the German
contributions to the arts and to the sciences. These contributions are
known to all; they speak for themselves; they redound to the honor of
German culture; and for them, whatever may be their number, the other
nations of the world are eternally indebted to Germany. But these German
contributions are neither important enough nor numerous enough to
justify the assumption that German culture is superior or that Germany
is entitled to think herself the supreme leader of the arts and of the
sciences. No one nation can claim this lofty position, although few
would be so bold as to deny the superior achievement of the French in
the fine arts and of the English in pure science.
Nations are never accepted by other nations at their own valuation; and
the Germans need not be surprised that we are now astonished to find
them asserting their natural self-appreciation, with the apparent
expectation that it will pass unchallenged. The world owes a debt to
modern Germany beyond all question, but this is far less than the debt
owed to England and to France. It would be interesting if some German,
speaking with authority, should now be moved to explain to us Americans
the reasons which underlie the insistent assertion of the superiority of
German civilization. Within the past few weeks we have been forced to
gaze at certain of the less pleasant aspects of the German character;
and we have been made to see that the militarism of the Germans is in
absolute contradiction to the preaching and to the practice of the great
Goethe, to whom they proudly point as the ultimate representative of
German culture.