THE GREAT SENTINEL.
IT is very good of Germany, being, as she is, so much stronger than anybody else, not to use her strength in conquering everybody around. That is, we suppose, the true
meaning of the hymns to Germany now pouring from the English newspapers, hymns which not only ascribe to her the leading place in Europe, but bless her for taking such a place and making such a use of it. Upon that supposition, there is, we heartily admit, reason for praise. In the regular historical course of events, Germany, after organising herself, and ascertaining that her Army was the strongest in the world, and defeating her bitterest rival, ought to have devoted herself to conquest, to have annexed Bohemia, and swallowed Holland, and driven Russia across the Vistula ; to have subdued Italy, and have planted Viceroys in the Balkan ; to have built up in outline a European Monarchy, and finally, to have attacked England, and after years of wasteful warfare to have been beaten back within her ancient limits. That is the proper historic sequence, which has happened once a century since the discovery of America. Spain rose to the headship, founded the mightiest organisation for war seen in Europe up to that time, conquered wherever she listed, attacked England, and in a great storm off the Orkneys lost her leadership. Louis %W. raised 400,000 men, previously considered an im- possible number, disciplined them under a caste of warlike though profligate nobles, conquered or defeated all he encoun- tered, roused the patriotism of England, and, after years of defeat, was rattled to his grave like a pauper, to escape the curses of his own subjects. Napoleon raised a million of men, organised them under a caste of picked experts in war, mastered Europe State by State, attacked England, and died a prisoner in a water- less African island. Germany, since 1870, has been wiser and, even if keen calculation has entered into her action, better than any predecessor. The Emperor William attained in 1870 just the position which tempts potentates to dream of universal sway, and has withheld his hand, and pronounced definitely for peace in his own time. The world, therefore, though restless, suspicious, and armed to the teeth, is preserved from the grand calamity of European war. Such a war cannot be waged without Germany's permission. Prince Bismarck, as Mr. Tenniel, with that rare instinct of genius which penetrates much deeper than ability, this week depicts him, instead of riding forth on the pale horse to scatter death, stands armed and burly as the Great Sentinel at the door of the Temple of Janus, to see that no one uncloses it. Let that attitude be honoured, even though there be more strain in it than Mr. Tenniel paints—what can he have been thinking of, to let Prince Bismarck loll I—and though its motive be not the love of peace, but a clear perception of the interests of Germany. Tho sentry's first duty is to his post, even though he has duties to himself and to the world.
But, nevertheless, we see no good in this adulation of Ger- many, or in concealing that while her headship is indefinitely more moral and less oppressive than it might have been, it is far lower in character than it should be,and than, from the high Ger- man standard of thought, it might have been expected to become. In the first place, it is not headship at all, unless it be head- ship of the kind which Austria once possessed in Germany. The King at best is but a King Veto. Prince Bismarck, ac- cepting him, as we fairly may, as incarnate Germany, leads Europe no-whither, neither to peace, nor to freedom, nor to prosperity, nor even to an organised and regulated control of the world in the world's interest. If he did, and did it successfully ; if, for instance, he issued and enforced, as mouthpiece of Federated Europe, an International Code, under which the nations might rest, confident that sudden or piratical injustice could not be perpetrated, or would be punished, there could, we admit, be no hymn so loud that it would exceed the deserving of Germany and its chief. Prince Bismarck has neither done nor attempted to do anything of the kind. It is the very specialty of his greatness or of Germany's that, though no one is at- tacked, all remain suspicious ; and that, under the terror of what he or Germany may do, the bonds which had begun to unite Europe are melting visibly away. There is no " Europe," no irresistible tribunal to which all can appeal. Prince Bismarck has so treated France and Russia, so bid them keep apart, so scolded and menaced them, that even a temporary unity of Europe is impossible. There is no tribunal left to which a wronged nation—say, little Denmark—can appeal ; no Council which has at once the strength and the justice to make an award too final to be appealed against, too irresistible to be ignored. To appeal to Europe is to appeal to a Committee in which each Judge wears revolvers, each is thinking how best to secure advantage by his vote, and each would be at the other's throat, but that the great and gloomy Sentinel keeps fast the door. There is peace, but can Europe agree that it shall be peaceful peace, or release her young men from their sterile life of drill and barrack, or settle any boundary past attack, or assign any territory fallen in the course of events out of guardianship or order 1 Not only is the beneficial influence of Europe not increased by the hegemony of Germany, but it is positively decreased, and that for reasons almost openly cynical. The great Sentinel dreads no attack, but he watches for attack ; and to diminish the possibility of
attack, he openly tells all who are piratically inclined- to plunder as they will elsewhere. England would like Egypt.
"Right," shouts the Sentinel, "let England have Egypt," not as Englishmen think, because that is best for the world, but because, if England and France are at loggerheads, the Temple of Janus, which to its Sentinel is a German Temple, must keep shut. France wants Tunis, Tonquin, Madagascar. " Good l" cries the Sentinel, for then Italy is against France, and China also, and perhaps the owner of continental South Africa. Austria wants the western half of the Balkan peninsula. " Glorious!" cries the Sentinel, " for without me Austria cannot keep it, and I may pace here with the Hapsburg to guard my side." Any Power may take anything outside the charmed beat whereon the Sentinel paces, and there is no appeal, save to the sword, which he, in the vision of his eulogists, has ordered to be sheathed. Mr. Tenniel is right, and the Times wrong. Germany, under the Prince, is not using her gigantic power,— a power which grows day by day, till one dreads to think what future wielders of the magic sword may do with it—in order to enforce Law in the world, but only to ensure that the lawless shall not enter the sacred precincts of a single armoury, which
also is her own. We do not condemn that selfishness, though throughout all Europe it heaps toil on man, and though in Eastern Europe it crushes freedom, for no nation can fairly be expected to rise beyond the morality of its age, and as yet the distinction between patriotism and selfishness is not drawn ; but then, neither do we feel tempted to sing hymns to the burly and formidable Sentinel. He does his work well, without fearing, without faltering, without demanding per- quisites, but earth has had in it nobler figures than a Sentinel can be. Charles Martel played the part once, and he was great ; but who reckons him with Charlemagne ?
We say nothing of the result of this headship, so maintained, to Germany herself. The historian of the future may be able to decide that if Germany had, by a few wise concessions, soothed away foreign suspicion, and if she had insisted that her own people should be left free, she would have been far happier ; but that is not now a just comment. Germany has a right to rule her own life, and if she prefers the organisation of the barrack to the organisation of the free Commonwealth, her preference is outside any but speculative criticism. She may be wise, for only she can know what her true danger from the Eastward is, or what she might suffer from the West ; and if she is not right, she, at all events, bears her own burden. Save in a corner here and there, she has enchained no nation, and takes no help from unwilling slaves. It is for her to judge of her own action, to express her own aspirations, to settle her own
destiny. It is only when she claims a European role that she is justly liable to European criticism, and must be told that while in her magnificent position she has, since 1870, conquered no one, and taxed no one, and injured no one, while she has shown neither fear, nor greed, nor over- much vanity, she has cynically thrust aside the greatest duties her position has entailed, and must expect from the critics who welcomed her deliverance from bondage no warmer praise than this,—that she has misused a limitless strength far less than any predecessor. She has guarded her house well, and stayed within it ; but she has freed no people, prevented no outrage, established no law under the shelter of which free men may live in peace. All those things she may do, but they are not done, and we reserve applause until the nobler work has been performed.
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