The German Classics of The Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Vol. X | Page 2

its rank and
file embrace every occupation and every class of society, from the
scion of royal blood down to the son of the seamstress. Although it is
based upon the unconditional acceptance of the monarchical creed,
nothing is farther removed from it than the spirit of servility. On the
contrary, one of the very first teachings which are inculcated upon the
German recruit is that, in wearing the "king's coat," he is performing a

public duty, and that by performing this duty he is honoring himself.
Nor can it be said that it is the aim of German military drill to reduce
the soldier to a mere machine, at will to be set in motion or be brought
to a standstill by his superior. The aim of this drill is rather to give each
soldier increased self-control, mentally no less than bodily; to develop
his self-respect; to enlarge his sense of responsibility, as well as to
teach him the absolute necessity of the subordination of the individual
to the needs of the whole. The German army, then, is by no means a
lifeless tool that might be used by an unscrupulous and adventurous
despot to gratify his own whims or to wreak his private vengeance. The
German army is, in principle at least, a national school of manly virtues,
of discipline, of comradeship, of self-sacrifice, of promptness of action,
of tenacity of purpose. Although, probably, the most powerful
armament which the world has ever seen, it makes for peace rather than
for war. Although called upon to defend the standard of the most
imperious dynasty of western Europe, it contains more of the spirit of
true democracy than many a city government on this side of the
Atlantic.
All this has to be borne in mind if we wish to judge correctly of
Bismarck's military propensities. He has never concealed the fact that
he felt himself, above all, a soldier. One of his earliest public utterances
was a defense of the Prussian army against the sympathizers with the
revolution of 1848. His first great political achievement was the
carrying through, in the early sixties, of King William's army reform in
the face of the most stubborn and virulent opposition of a parliamentary
majority. Never, in the years following the formation of the Empire, did
his speech in the German Parliament rise to a higher pathos than when
he was asserting the military supremacy of the Emperor, or calling
upon the parties to forget their dissensions in maintaining the defensive
strength of the nation, or showering contempt upon liberal deputies
who seemed to think that questions of national existence could be
solved by effusions of academic oratory. Over and over, during the last
decade of his official career, did he declare that the only thing which
kept him from throwing aside the worry and vexation of governmental
duties and retiring to the much coveted leisure of home and hearth, was
the oath of vassal loyalty constraining him to stand at his post until his
imperial master released him of his own accord. And at the very height

of his political triumphs he wrote to his sovereign: "I have always
regretted that my talents did not allow me to testify my attachment to
the royal house and my enthusiasm for the greatness and glory of the
Fatherland in the front rank of a regiment rather than behind a
writing-desk. And even now, after having been raised by your Majesty
to the highest honors of a statesman, I cannot altogether repress a
feeling of regret at not having been similarly able to carve out a career
for myself as a soldier. Perhaps I should have made a poor general, but
if I had been free to follow the bent of my own inclination I would
rather have won battles for your Majesty than diplomatic campaigns."
It seems clear that both the defects and the greatness of Bismarck's
character are intimately associated with these military leanings of his.
He certainly was overbearing; he could tolerate no opposition; he was
revengeful and unforgiving; he took pleasure in the appeal to violence;
he easily resorted to measures of repression; he requited insults with
counter-insults; he had something of that blind furor Teutonicus which
was the terror of the Italian republics in the Middle Ages. These are
defects of temper which will probably prevent his name from ever
shining with that serene lustre of international veneration that has
surrounded the memory of a Joseph II. or a Washington with a kind of
impersonal immaculateness. But his countrymen, at least, have every
reason to condone these defects; for they are concomitant results of the
military bent of German character, and they are offset by such
transcendent military virtues that we would almost welcome them as
bringing this colossal figure