nging in of his own kingdom of heaven. These are the men above
all others who make the Tammanyizing of our politics possible. Honest
men cannot abide the hot-house atmosphere of their self-conscious
virtue. Nothing is more discouraging to robust virtue than the
criticisms of teachers of ethics, who live in coddled comfort, upon
private means, and other people's ideas.

Germany is just now suffering from the spasms of moral colic, due to
overeating. All luxury is in one form or another overeating. Berlin
itself has grown too rapidly into the vicious ways of a metropolis,
where spenders and wasters congregate. In 1911 the betting-machines at
the Berlin race-tracks took in $7,546,000, of which the state took for
its license, 16 2/3 per cent. There were 128 days of racing, while in
England they have 540 days' racing in the year!

In 1911, 1,300,000 strangers visited Berlin, of whom 1,046,162 were
Germans, 97,683 Russians, 39,555 Austrians, 30,550 Americans, and
16,600 English. Berlin killed 2,000,000 beasts for food, including
10,500 horses; she takes care of 3,000 nightly in her night-shelters,
puts away $17,500,000 in savings-banks, and has deposits therein of
$90,500,000. On the other hand, she has built a palace of vice costing
$1,625,000, in which on many nights between 11 P. M. and 2 A. M. they
sell $8,000 worth of champagne. No one knows his Berlin, who has not
partaken of a "Kalte Ente," or a "Landwehrtopp," a "Schlummerpunsch,"
or "Eine Weisse mit einer Strippe." There is still a boyish notion
about dissipation, and they have their own great classic to quote
from, who in "Faust" pours forth this rather raw advice for gayety:

"Greift nur hinein ins volle Menschenleben!
Ein jeder lebt's, nicht vielen ist's bekannt,
Und wo Ihr's packt, da ist es interessant!"

Berlin is still in the throes of that sophomorical philosophy of life
which believes that it is, from the point of view of sophistication,
of age, when it is free to be befuddled with wine and befooled by
women. But the German mind has no sympathy with hypocrisy. They may be
brutal in their rather material views of morals, but they are frank.
There may be mental prigs among them, but there are no moral prigs. In
both England and America we suffer from a certain morbid ethical
daintiness. There is a ripeness of moral fastidiousness that is often
difficult to distinguish from rottenness. It is part of the feminism
of America, born of our prosperity, for not o