napNAPOLEON BONAPARTE CROWNING JOSEPHINE
NAPOLEON BONAPARTE CROWNING JOSEPHINE
NAPOLEON BONAPARTE CROWNING JOSEPHINE
The birth rate in France scarcely exceeds the death rate, and to my surprise I found that the increase in the country was even less than in Paris, in proportion to the population. One Frenchman, apparently well informed, told me that there were small villages in which it was difficult to find a child.
In the village which I visited I was told that the families average two or three children. To show, however, that the small family was not the universal rule, attention was called to one family there in which there were eleven children.
The French peasant is a very industrious man, and cultivates his land with great care, and as soon as he saves a little money he tries to add to the area of his farm. The wife is usually an efficient helper, whether in the city or in the country. In the city she is often copartner with her husband in the store, and assists him to save.
Whether the tendency of the peasants to gather in villages, rather than to live each on his own farm, is due to their sociability or is a relic of the feudal system, I cannot say—both reasons were given.
The French peasant has reason to feel the burden of militarism, but the recollection of the last war with Germany is so fresh in his mind that he is not likely to make any vigorous protest as long as he believes a large army necessary for the protection of the republic.
The sentiment of the French people on this subject is shown by the fact that the figure representing Alsace-Lorraine in the group of statues in the beautiful Place de la Concorde is always covered with mourning wreaths.
I visited the Bank of France, where I was received by the governor, M. Georges Pallain. The bank's capital stock is about $40,000,000, and it pays a dividend of about 12 per cent, equal to about 4 per cent on the present market value of the stock. The deposits are much smaller in proportion to the capital than are the deposits of our large American banks. This is true of the Bank of England, and likewise of the banks of Mexico.
This smaller proportion between the deposits and the capital stock arrested my attention, because in the United States the proportion is sometimes so great as to leave little margin for shrinkage in the event of industrial disturbance. If a bank has loans amounting to ten times its capital stock, a shrinkage of one-tenth in the value of its assets would wipe out the capital.
The Bank of France, the Bank of England, and the leading banks of Mexico seem to be conducted on a more conservative basis. The Bank of England and the Bank of France differ largely in their noteissues. The former has the right to issue uncovered notes to the extent of the bank's loan to the English government. Upon this loan the bank receives no interest, the note issue being considered an equivalent, as no reserve is required to be kept against these notes. The bank can also issue notes in addition to these, but I found to my surprise that this note issue is not profitable to the bank, since these notes are virtually gold certificates, the bank being required to keep on hand an equal amount of gold as a redemption fund.
champsAVENUE CHAMPS-ELYSEES—PARIS
AVENUE CHAMPS-ELYSEES—PARIS
AVENUE CHAMPS-ELYSEES—PARIS
The Bank of France has outstanding nearly $900,000,000 in notes, which is the paper money of the country. The bank has the option of redeeming these notes either in gold or silver, and it exercises that option by refusing to pay gold when gold becomes scarce, or when it seems undesirable to furnish gold for export.
It has recently refused gold, and those desiring to export that metal have had to purchase it at a slight premium.
The "gold contract," which has become so common in the United States, and which was used to terrorize the public in 1896, seems to be unknown in France; or at least I could find no one who knew anything about such contracts. They are regarded as contrary to public policy.
The president of the Bank of France is appointed by the government, so that the bank stands in a different attitude toward the government from the national banks of our country.
I had the pleasure of meeting a number of prominent Frenchmen during my visit to Paris, among them Senator Combes, the prime minister, who is just now a most conspicuous figure in the contest between the government and the various religious orders; Senator Clemenceau, one of the ablest editors in Paris, and a brilliant conversationalist; Baron d'Estonelles de Constant, a man of high ideals and leader of the peace movement in France; the Rev. Albert Kohler, author of "The Religion of Effort," and the Rev. Charles Wagner, whose book, "The Simple Life," has had such a large circulation in the United States.
The Rev. Mr. Wagner is just such a looking man as you would expect to write such a book—strong, rugged and earnest. He impresses one as a man with a mission, and although young in years, he has already made an impress upon the thought of the world. His book is a protest against the materialism which is making man the slave of his possessions.
The influence which Mr. Wagner has already exerted shows the power of a great thought, even when it must cross the boundaries of nations and pass through translation into many different tongues. Ishall remember my communion with this apostle of simplicity as one remembers a visit to a refreshing spring.
tombTOMB OF NAPOLEON.
TOMB OF NAPOLEON.
TOMB OF NAPOLEON.
Dr. Max Nordau, the famous author of "Degeneracy," although a German, lives in Paris. I enjoyed my call upon him very much. One quickly recognizes the alertness of his mind, his brilliant powers of generalization and his aptness in epigram. I also had the pleasure of meeting Senator Fougeirol, a noted advocate of bimetallism.
The visitor to Paris is immediately impressed by the magnificence of the city's boulevards, parks and public squares. There is an elegant spaciousness about the boulevards and squares that surpasses anything I have seen elsewhere.
Parisians assert that the Avenue des Champs Elysees is the finest in the world, and so far as my observation goes I am not prepared to dispute the claim. The beauty of Paris deserves all the adjectives that have been lavished upon it.
One might dwell at length upon the almost endless array of brilliant shop windows where jewelry, bric-a-brac, hats, gowns and mantles are displayed (and I am not surprised that Paris is the Mecca for women), but I desire to refer briefly to the more permanent beauty of Paris—the beauty of its architecture, sculpture and paintings.
Paris' public buildings, ancient and modern, combine solidity with beauty. The statues, columns and arches that adorn the parks and boulevards bespeak the skill of the artists and the appreciation of the public which pays for their maintenance.
Paris' many picture galleries, chief of which are the Louvre and the Luxembourg, contain, as all the world knows, extraordinary collections of treasures of art. The encouragement given by the government to every form of art has made Paris the abode of students from the four corners of the earth.
The huge palaces at Versailles and Fontainebleau are interesting relics of the monarchical period, and they are instructive, also, in that they draw a contrast between the days of the empire and the present time. The extremes of society have been drawn closely together by the growth of democracy, and the officials chosen by the people and governing by authority of the people are much nearer to the people who pay the taxes and support the government than the kings who lived in gorgeous palaces and claimed to rule by right divine.
I have left to the last those reminders of earlier France which are connected with the reigns of Napoleon. You cannot visit Paris without being made familiar with the face of the "Little Corsican," for it stares at you from the shop windows and looks down at you from the walls of palaces and galleries.
You see the figure of "the man of destiny" in marble and bronze, sometimes on a level with the eye, sometimes piercing the sky, as it does in the Place Vendome, where it is perched on top of a lofty column, whose pedestal and sides are covered with panels in relief made from cannon captured by Napoleon in battle.
The gigantic Arch of Triumph on the Champs Elysees, commenced by Napoleon, in commemoration of his successes, testifies to the splendor of his conceptions.
But overshadowing all other Napoleonic monuments is his tomb on the banks of the Seine, adjoining the Invalides. Its gilded dome attracts attention from afar, and on nearer approach one is charmed with the strength of its walls and the symmetry of its proportions.
At the door the guard cautions the thoughtless to enter with uncovered head, but the admonition is seldom necessary, for an air of solemnity pervades the place.
In the center of the rotunda, beneath the frescoed vault of the great dome, is a circular crypt. Leaning over the heavy marble balustrade I gazed on the massive sarcophagus below which contains all that was mortal of that marvelous combination of intellect and will.
The sarcophagus is made of dark red porphyry, a fitly chosen stone that might have been colored by the mingling of the intoxicating wine of ambition with the blood spilled to satisfy it.
Looking down upon the sarcophagus and the stands of tattered battle flags that surround it, I reviewed the tragic career of this grand master of the art of slaughter, and weighed, as best I could, the claims made for him by his friends. And then I found myself wondering what the harvest might have been had Napoleon's genius led him along peaceful paths, had the soil of Europe been stirred by the plowshare rather than by his trenchant blade, and the reaping done by implements less destructive than his shot and shell.
Just beyond and above the entombed emperor stands a cross upon which hangs a life-size figure of the Christ, flooded by a mellow lemon-colored light, which pours through the stained glass windows of the chapel.
I know not whether it was by accident or design that this god of war thus sleeps, as it were, at the very feet of the Prince of Peace.
Whether so intended or not, it will, to those who accept the teachings of the Sermon on the Mount, symbolize love's final victory over force and the triumph of that philosophy which finds happiness in helpful service and glory in doing good.
No wonder Switzerland is free. The beauty of the country inspires a love of native land and the mountains form a natural fortress behind which the Swiss people could withstand armies many times the size of their own. Nowhere can one find as great a variety of landscape in a day's ride by train as in Switzerland. The road from Berne via Chiasso, on the Italian border, to Italy, passes along the shores of lakes whose transparent waters reflect the precipitous rocks that overhang them; by mountain streams that dash and foam madly as if anxious to escape from the solitude of the hills into the companionship of the larger waters of lake and sea, across the gorges, around the foothills and through the nine-mile tunnel of St. Gothard, which pierces the mountain a mile beneath the summit, and then down into the valleys that widen out from the base of the Alps. The day's enthralling ride reminds one of a cinematographic film, so quickly do the views change and so different is each from the other. Along the lower levels are tiny farms and vineyards, a little higher up are terraced pastures and quaint farm houses, with gabled roofs—often residence and barn are under the same roof! The mountain sides are scarred with chutes down which the peasants drag timber on the snow. One passes through a great variety of climate in descending from the City of Mexico to Vera Cruz, but there one does not see such a succession of picturesque views as greets the eye in the ride across the Alps.
One would suppose that the people of Switzerland could find ample employment in supplying the wants of those who temporarily visit their land, but to the industry of hotelkeeping are added two that have made Switzerland famous throughout the world—watchmaking and wood carving. While watches are manufactured as well and as cheaply in the United States as in Switzerland, this industry is one that makes its presence known in every city of this mountain republic. The genius of the Swiss for wood carving manifests itself in innumerable ways. The cuckoo clock and the bear—the symbol of Switzerland, as the eagle is of the United States—are seen in shop windows everywhere; the bear in innumerable postures, the clock in innumerable sizes. At Berne I found some wooden nut-crackers formed to resemble a head, the lower jaw working as a lever and crushing the nut against the upper jaw. I observed one nut-cracker made to resemble PresidentRoosevelt, and another former Colonial Secretary Chamberlain of England. I presume that the manufacturer intended to suggest that these two statesmen have more nuts to crack just now than any other men of political prominence!
More interesting, however, than its scenery or its industries is the government of Switzerland. It is the most democratic government on the face of the earth, if the word democratic is taken to mean the rule of the people, for in Switzerland the people rule more completely than anywhere else. In some of the small cantons the people meet at stated times and act upon political matters in public meeting, recalling the old town hall meeting of New England. In all the cantons and in the federal government they have the initiative and referendum. The latter has been in use since 1874; the former has been adopted more recently.
From the courteous assistant secretary of state I learned that during the last twenty-nine years 235 federal laws have been submitted to the people by means of the referendum, of which 210 were adopted and twenty-five rejected. The total voting population of Switzerland is about 768,000, and it requires a petition signed by 30,000—less than 5 per cent of the voting population—to secure a referendum vote on any bill. Fifty thousand voters can petition for the enactment of any desired law, and when such a petition is filed the federal legislature can either pass the law or refuse to pass it. If it refuses, however, its action must be passed upon by a referendum vote. Since the existence of this provision six petitions have been presented, and in every case the legislature refused to pass the law demanded by the petitioners. In five cases the people at the referendum vote sustained the legislature; in one case the action of the legislature was overruled by the voters. In this instance the people had petitioned for the passage of a law that would prevent the slaughter of animals for food until after they had been rendered insensible.
I found that the Swiss people are so pleased with the popular control over government, given them by the initiative and referendum, that there is no possibility that any party will attempt to attack it, although there are some that would prefer the representative system freed from the restraint which the initiative and referendum give. Their arguments are, first, that the legislators knowing that the people can initiate legislation feel less responsibility; and, second, that as the legislators' actions can be reviewed by the people, the legislators are more timid about introducing needed reforms. The friends of the initiative and referendum meet these arguments by declaring that the legislators are really not relieved from responsibility, but on the other hand areincited to action by the fact that the people can act in the event that their interests are neglected by the legislature and that the timidity suggested is only likely to prevent legislation when the legislators themselves doubt the merit of the proposed action.
By courtesy of the American minister, Mr. Hill, I had the honor of meeting Dr. Adolphe Deucher, "president of the Swiss confederation," as he is styled. He is of German blood, as his name would indicate, and he is a fine representative of the scholarly, big-hearted Teuton. He is a tall, slender man, of about 60, with a ruddy face, white mustache and scanty white hair. He speaks with frankness and conviction and is as simple in his manners as the humblest of his people. He has been president once before, and has represented his canton in the federal legislature. He lives very unostentatiously, as becomes an official whose salary is only $2,750 a year. He receives $250 a year more than his colleagues in the federal council. Switzerland has no executive mansion and the president lives in a modest hotel.
Three languages are spoken in Switzerland—French, German, Italian. French prevails in the region about Geneva, German in and north of Berne and Italian at the southeast near the Italian border. German is, perhaps, dominant, if any one tongue can be said to dominate, with French and Italian following in the order named. The debates in the federal legislature are conducted in the three tongues, and are reported therein officially. No attempt is made to interfere with the teaching of the language that each of the three communities desires, the cantons being independent in matters of local legislation, just as are the states in our country. There seems to be no jealousy or enmity between the different sections except to the extent of a healthful rivalry between them. The feeling of independence, however, is so strong that no federal government could exist without a clear recognition of the rights of the component states or cantons.
As a nation, Switzerland, with her five million people, does not attract the attention that neighboring nations do, and in a contest at arms, except upon her own soil, she could not hope to achieve much, but in that high form where conscience dictates and where reason rules she is a conspicuous member of the sisterhood of nations. If we believe the world to be making progress toward nobler national ideals, we may expect Switzerland to occupy a position of increasing importance, for the love of liberty that characterizes her people, the democratic character of her institutions and the industry of her citizens all combine to give her assurance of increasing prestige.
I cannot refrain here from giving expression to a thought that has grown upon me since my arrival in Europe. I found our ambassadorto England, Mr. Choate, preparing to leave his residence in Carlton House Terrace, London, because of the prospective return of its owner, Lord Curzon, from India. I learned that our ambassadors to France have often found difficulty in finding suitable houses in Paris, while I found that our minister to Switzerland, Mr. Hill, is living in Geneva because he has not been able thus far to find a residence in Berne, the capital. I was also informed that our ambassador to Italy, Mr. Meyer, was compelled to live in a hotel in Rome for a year after his appointment, because he was unable to find a suitable house for the embassy. The trials of our diplomatic representatives in Europe, together with the high rents they are compelled to pay for their residences, have convinced me that we as a people are at fault in not providing permanent and appropriate domiciles for our ambassadors and ministers at foreign capitals. In the great cities of Europe it is not only impossible to rent at a moderate price a house suitable for our embassy, but it is often difficult to secure a convenient location at any price. It is scarcely democratic to place upon an official an expense so great as to preclude the appointment of a man of moderate means; nor does it comport with the dignity of our nation to make the choice of an ambassadorial or ministerial residence dependent upon chance and circumstance. I have been pleased to observe that our representatives in Europe are conspicuous in the diplomatic circle at court functions because of their modest attire, but it is not necessary that our ambassadors' and ministers' homes should be on wheels in order to be democratic. I believe that our government ought to inaugurate a new policy in this matter and build up in the chief capitals of foreign nations on land convenient to the foreign office buildings suitable in every way for the residences and offices of our diplomatic representatives. Such buildings constructed according to a characteristic American style of architecture and furnished like an American home would not only give to our representative a fixed habitation, but would exhibit to the people of the country in which he is accredited the American manner of living. The records of the embassy could be kept more safely in permanent quarters.
As real estate in all the capitals of Europe is rapidly rising in value, land purchased now would become a profitable investment and the rent estimated on the purchase price would be a great deal less than will have to be paid twenty or fifty years from now for a suitable site and buildings conveniently located. It is not wise to confine our diplomatic representation to the circle of the wealthy, and it is much better to furnish our ambassadors and ministers with residences than to increase their salaries.
I shall treat in this article of my visit to three little kingdoms in the north of Europe—Denmark, Belgium and The Netherlands.
I passed through the edge of Sweden on my way from Berlin to Copenhagen and was at Malmo a short time; but, as it was Christmas day and early in the morning, few stores were open, and I did not have an opportunity to see many people. I had intended to visit Stockholm, the capital of Sweden, but a day's delay in Russia deprived me of that pleasure.
Copenhagen is not only the capital of Denmark, but its commercial metropolis as well. The city has the air of a seaport. The canal leading from the harbor up to the center of the town was crowded with boats which had taken up their winter quarters, and the multitude of masts told of the numbers of those who live upon the ocean.
Denmark is a densely populated country composed of the Jutland peninsula and a number of islands. The land is for the most part level and not much above the sea. The farmers of Denmark have distinguished themselves in several departments of agriculture, especially in butter-making—Danish butter commanding the highest price in London and other large markets.
Copenhagen has some very substantial buildings and an art gallery in which the works of Thorwaldsen, the sculptor, occupy the chief place.
The people of Denmark, while living under an hereditary monarch, have a written constitution, and parliament is the controlling influence in the government. Until recently, the sovereign insisted upon selecting his cabinet ministers to suit himself; but, about three years ago, he yielded to the demand of parliament that the dominant party in that body be permitted to furnish the king's advisers. The change has proven so satisfactory that perfect harmony now exists between the royal family and the legislative body.
King Christian is advanced in years and is so beloved by his people that he goes among them without attendants or guards.
The heir to the throne of Denmark, Prince Frederick, upon whom, by the courtesy of the American minister, Mr. Swensen, I was able to call on Christmas afternoon, is very democratic in his manner, and very cordial in his friendship for America.
If marrying daughters to crowned heads is a test, the late Queen of Denmark was a very successful mother. One of her daughters is mother of the present emperor of Russia, another is wife of the present king of England, and a third is married to one of the smaller kings of Germany. A son, it may be added, is king of Greece.
I had the pleasure of meeting the prime minister and also Professor Matzen, the president of the state university and Denmark's member of The Hague tribunal. He was one of the leading opponents of the transfer of the Danish islands to the United States.
I learned while in Denmark that one of the chief reasons for the opposition to the sale of the Danish islands to the United States was the fact that the United States did not guarantee full citizenship to the inhabitants of those islands. The nation's conduct elsewhere prevented this. Our refusal to give the Porto Ricans and the Filipinos the protection of the constitution is largely to blame for the loss of the Danish islands to our country.
christianKING CHRISTIAN AND WIFE.
KING CHRISTIAN AND WIFE.
KING CHRISTIAN AND WIFE.
The Danish officials whom I met were deeply interested in the United States, and naturally so, for, like Sweden and Norway, Denmark has sent many sons and daughters to the United States; and these, as have the Swedes and Norwegians, have deported themselves so well as to establish close ties between the mother countries and their adopted land.
Belgium is a busy hive. Its people are crowded together and are very industrious. The farmers and truck gardeners have reduced agriculture to a fine art and the lace workers are famous for their skill.
Nowhere did I see man's faithful friend, the dog, utilized as in Belgium. He helps to haul the carts along the streets, and his services are so highly prized that large dogs are untaxed, while the small house dog, being an idler, has to contribute his annual quota to the expenses of the government.
justicePALACE OF JUSTICE—BELGIUM
PALACE OF JUSTICE—BELGIUM
PALACE OF JUSTICE—BELGIUM
The elegance of some of the public buildings and the beauty of the streets of Brussels surprise one, if he has allowed himself to judge Belgium by her dimensions on the map. Historical interest, however, is centered, not in Brussels, but in the battlefield of Waterloo, some miles away. In the summer time, thousands of tourists (among whom, according to the guides, are but few Frenchmen) turn their steps toward this field which witnessed the overthrow of the greatest military genius of his generation, if not of all time.
The scene of carnage is now marked by an enormous artificial mound 130 feet in height and surmounted by an immense stone lion—the Lionof Waterloo. The animal looks toward the point from which Napoleon made his last charge and seems to be watching lest the attack may be renewed. Wellington, upon visiting the battlefield after the erection of this mound, is said to have complained that they had ruined the battlefield to secure dirt for this stupendous pile, and it is true that the surface of the earth in that vicinity has been very much altered. In leveling the knolls they have destroyed one of the most interesting landmarks of the battlefield—the sunken road in which so many of the French soldiers lost their lives. As the guide tells it, Napoleon asked a Belgian peasant if there was any ravine to be crossed between him and the enemy's lines, and the peasant replied in the negative; but when the French rushed over this knoll, they came suddenly and unexpectedly upon a narrow road in a cut about twenty feet deep, and, falling in, filled up the cut until succeeding ranks crossed over on their dead bodies.
The field, as a whole, might be described as a rolling prairie, although the visitor is told of groves no longer standing. At the Hugomond farm, the walls of the house bear evidence of the conflict that raged nearly a century ago, and one is shown the ruins of an old well in which, it is said, the bodies of 300 English soldiers were buried. This portion of the battlefield reminds one somewhat of that portion of the battlefield of Gettysburg which was made famous by Pickett's charge, although there are but few monuments at Waterloo to mark the places occupied by the various brigades and divisions.
At a restaurant near the mound one is shown the chair in which, according to tradition, Wellington sat when he was laying his plans for the last day's battle, and you can, for a franc each, secure bullets warranted to have been found upon the field. It is rumored, however, that some of the bullets now found are of modern make and that thrifty peasants sow them as they do grain, and gather them for the benefit of tourists.
I found Europe agitated by a remark recently made by the emperor of Germany which gave the Prussian troops credit for saving the English and winning the day, but the French are as quick to dispute this claim as the English. The comedians have taken the matter up in the British Isles, and, at one London theatre, an actor dressed as an Englishman, is made to meet a German and, after an exchange of compliments, the English brings down the house by saying: "I beg pardon! It may be a little late, but let me thank you for saving us at Waterloo."
It is hardly worth while for the allies to quarrel over the division of credit. There was glory enough for all—and it required the co-operation of all to overcome the genius and the strategy of Bonaparte.
Between Waterloo, one of the world's most renowned battlefields, and The Hague, which is to be the home of the Temple of Peace—what a contrast; and yet Belgium and The Netherlands lie side by side! Perhaps the contrast is chronological rather than geographical or racial, for the Dutch have had their share of fighting on their own soil, as they had their part in the victory of 1815. It seems especially appropriate that The Hague should be chosen as the permanent meeting place of the peace tribunal, for it is not only centrally located for European countries, and, being small, is not itself tempted to appeal to arms, but it has long been the home of religious liberty, and its people were pioneers in the defense of the doctrine that rulers exist for the people, not the people for the rulers.
hagueTHE HAGUE
THE HAGUE
THE HAGUE
The capital of The Netherlands—The Hague—(the name is taken from the forest that adjoins) is a beautiful little city and will furnish an appropriate setting for the building which Mr. Carnegie's generosity is to provide. Plans are already being prepared for this structure, andone of the officials showed me a picture representing Peace, which may be reproduced upon the ceiling or walls.
In the gallery at Moscow I saw a painting by the great Russian artist, Vereshchagin. It is a pyramid of whitened skulls standing out against a dark background, and is dedicated to "The Warriors of the World." It tells the whole story of war in so solemn, impressive, and terrible a way that Von Moltke is said to have issued an order prohibiting German officers from looking at it when it was exhibited at Berlin.
The emperor of Russia, who has the distinction and the honor of having called together the conference which resulted in The Hague tribunal, might with great propriety contribute to the Temple of Peace this masterpiece of one of his countrymen, portraying so vividly the evils which arbitration is intended to remedy.
amsterdamTHE MARKET PLACE AT AMSTERDAM.
THE MARKET PLACE AT AMSTERDAM.
THE MARKET PLACE AT AMSTERDAM.
One of the members of the arbitration court told me that it was both interesting and instructive to note how the nations appearing before that court emphasized, not so much their pecuniary claims, as the honor of their respective nations and the justice of their acts.
No one can foresee or foretell how great an influence The Hague tribunal will have upon the world's affairs, but it would seem difficultto exaggerate it. It is cultivating a public opinion which will in time coerce the nations into substituting arbitration for violence in the settlement of international disputes; and it ought to be a matter of gratification to every American that our country is taking so active a part in the forwarding of the movement.
But The Hague is not the only place of interest in The Netherlands. The land replevined from the sea by the sturdy Dutch and protected by dykes, the spot immortalized by the temporary sojourn of the Pilgrims, the familiar blue china, the huge wind mills with their deliberate movements, the wooden shoes, and the numerous waterways—all these attract the attention of the tourist.
And the commercial metropolis of Holland,—Amsterdam—what a quaint old city it is! Its more than three hundred canals roaming their way through the city, and its hundreds of bridges, have given to it the name of "The Northern Venice," and it well deserves the appellation. The houses are built on piles, and as many of them are settling, they lean in every direction, some out toward the street, some back, and some toward the side. The houses are so dependent upon each other for support, it is a common saying in that city that if you want to injure your neighbor, you have only to pull down your own house.
statesA NETHERLANDS STATESMAN.
A NETHERLANDS STATESMAN.
A NETHERLANDS STATESMAN.
Amsterdam is the center of the diamond cutting industry of the world, more than ten thousand hands being employed in that work. As is well known, the Dutch are a rich people, and their commerce, like their mortgages, can be found everywhere.
They have a constitutional monarchy, but they have universal education and parliamentary government, and are jealous of their political rights.
Denmark, Belgium and The Netherlands—three little kingdoms! Small in area, but brimful of people, and these people have their part in the solving of problems with which Europe is now grappling.
windmillA DUTCH WINDMILL.
A DUTCH WINDMILL.
A DUTCH WINDMILL.
reichstagTHE REICHSTAG
THE REICHSTAG
THE REICHSTAG
At Berlin I found, as I had at London and Paris, a considerable number of Americans and, as in the other cities, they have organized a society, the object of which is to bring the American residents together for friendly intercourse. At London the group is known as the American Society; at Paris and Berlin the society is known as the American Chamber of Commerce. Through the receptions given by these societies I was able to meet not only the leading American residents, but many foreigners who came as invited guests. Our American residents are evidently conducting themselves well, because I found that they are well liked by the people among whom they are temporarily sojourning. Iam indebted to Ambassador Tower and to the American Chamber of Commerce for courtesies extended me at Berlin.
My visit to Germany occurred at Christmas time and while it was for that reason impossible to see the kaiser (much to my regret), I learned something of the German method of observing the great Christian holiday. The German is essentially a domestic man and at Christmas time especially gives himself up to the society of the family, relatives and friends. Christmas coming on Friday, the festivities covered three days, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. The toys—in which Germany abounds—were of endless variety, and the Christmas trees, bending beneath their load, were centers of interest to the young folks. There were dolls and dogs, horses and woolly sheep, cows that give milk, and soldiers—an abundance of soldiers. I saw one cavalry man with a saber in his hand. When he was wound up, the horse would rush forward and the rider would strike with his saber, as if he were keeping watch on the Rhine and in the very act of resisting an attack from the enemy. A little strange that the birthday of the Prince of Peace should be celebrated by the presentation of toys illustrating mimic warfare! But, as in America we are increasing our army and enlarging our navy, we are not in a very good position to take the military mote out of the eye of our friends in the fatherland.
leipsicLEIPSIC UNIVERSITY.
LEIPSIC UNIVERSITY.
LEIPSIC UNIVERSITY.
Berlin is a splendid city with beautiful streets, parks and public buildings. It is more modern in appearance than either London or Paris, and there is a solidity and substantialness about the populationthat explain the character of the emigration from Germany to America. No one can look upon a gathering of average Germans without recognizing that he is in the presence of a strong, intelligent and masterful people. Bismarck has left his impress upon Germany as Napoleon did upon France. An heroic statue of the man of "blood and iron" stands between the reichstag and the column of Victory, which was erected at the close of the Franco-Prussian war. The reichstag is a massive but graceful structure, built some twenty years ago. In one of the corridors I noticed a silk flag which was presented in the seventies by the German women of America. The reichstag proper is a popular body, much like the English parliament, and, as in England, the members do not necessarily reside in the districts they represent. The upper house or bundesrath, is somewhat like our senate in one respect, namely, that it represents the various states that comprise the German empire, but it differs from our senate, first, in that the subdivisions are represented somewhat in proportion to population, and, second, in that the members of the bundesrath are really ambassadors of the several state governments whose credentials can be withdrawn at any time. As all legislation must be concurred in by the bundesrath, as well as by the reichstag, it will be seen that the German government is not nearly so responsive to the will of the people as the governments of England, Denmark and the Netherlands.
In the reichstag they have resorted to a device for saving time in roll call. Each member is supplied with a quantity of tickets, some pink and some white. Each ticket bears on both sides the name of the member. On the white tickets the word "Ja" (yes) appears under the name, on the pink ones "Nein" (no). These ballots are gathered up in vases containing two receptacles, one white and the other pink. The vases are carried through the hall and the votes deposited according to color. As they are deposited in the different receptacles and are distinguished by color, the ballot is quickly taken and counted—in about one-fourth the time, I think, formerly required for roll call. This is a method which our congress might find it convenient to adopt.
It was my good fortune, while in Berlin, to meet Dr. Otto Arendt, the leading bimetallist of Germany. He became a student of the money question while in college, being converted to the double standard by the writings of Cernucshi, the great French economist. Dr. Arendt is a member of the reichstag, from one of the agricultural constituencies. He has represented his government in international conferences and has urged his government to join in an agreement to restore bimetallism, but, like other advocates of the double standard, has found the English financiers an immovable obstruction in the way.
rhineTHE RHINE
THE RHINE
THE RHINE
I have for two reasons reserved for this article some comments on the growth of socialism in Europe. First, because Germany was to be the last of the larger countries visited, and, second, because socialism seems to be growing more rapidly in Germany than anywhere else. I find that nearly all the European nations have carried collective ownership farther than we have in the United States. In a former article, reference has already been made to the growth of municipal ownership in England and Scotland, and I may add that where the private ownership of public utilities is still permitted the regulation of the corporations holding these franchises is generally more strict than in the United States. Let two illustrations suffice: Where parliament charters gas and water companies in cities, it has for some years been the practice to limit the dividends that can be earned—any surplus earnings over and above the dividends allowed must be used in reducing the price paid by the consumer. I fear that our money magnates would be at a loss to find words to express their indignation if any such restriction were suggested in America, and yet is it not a just and reasonable restriction?
In the case of railroads, I noticed that there are in England but few grade (or, as they call them, "level") crossings. I am informed that railroad accidents and injuries are not so frequent in England as in the United States.
In Switzerland the government has recently acquired the principal railroad systems. In Holland, Belgium and Denmark also the railroads are largely government roads. In Russia the government owns and operates the roads and I found there a new form of collectivism, namely, the employment of a community physician, who treats the people without charge. These physicians are employed by societies called Zemstro, which have control of the roads and the care of the sick.
In Germany, however, socialism as an economic theory is being urged by a strong and growing party. In the last general election the socialists polled a little more than three million votes out of a total of about nine and a half millions. Measured by the popular vote it is now the strongest party in Germany. The fact that with thirty-one per cent of the vote it only has eighty-one members of the reichstag out of a total of 397 is due, in part, to the fact that the socialist vote is massed in the cities and, in part, to the fact that the population has increased more rapidly in the cities, and, as there has been no recent redistricting, the socialist city districts are larger than the districts returning members of other parties.
George von Vollmar, a member of the reichstag, in a recent issue of the National Review thus states the general purpose of the social democratic party in Germany:
"It is well known that social democracy in all countries, as its name indicates, aims in the first place at social and economic reform. It starts from the point of view that economic development, the substitution of machinery for hand implements, and the supplanting of small factories by gigantic industrial combinations, deprive the worker in an ever increasing degree of the essential means of production, thereby converting him into a possessionless proletarian, and that the means of production are becoming the exclusive possession of a comparatively small number of capitalists, who constantly monopolize all the advantages which the gigantic increase in the productive capacity of human effort has brought about. Thus, according to the social democrats, capital is master of all the springs of life, and lays a yoke on the working classes in particular, and the whole population in general, which ever becomes more and more unbearable. The masses, as their insight into the general trend of affairs develops, become daily more and more conscious of the contrast between the exploiter and the exploited, and in all countries with an industrial development society is divided into two hostile camps, which wage war on each other with ever increasing bitterness.