one is British and one is German as much now as
then! In the one the winner of the Derby is of more importance than
any philosopher; in the other, philosophers, poets, professors, and
playwrights are almost as well known, as the pedigrees of the
yearlings to be sold at Newmarket, are known at White's. They still
have plover's eggs early in the season at White's, and they still
recognize the subtle distinction there between "port wine" and "port";
while in Weimar nobody, unless it be the duke, even boils his
sauerkraut in white wine!

One could easily write a chapter on Weimar and its self-satisfied
social and literary activities. There were three hundred or more
capitals of like complexion and isolation: some larger, some smaller,
none perhaps with such a splendid literary setting, but all
indifferent with the indifference of distant relatives who seldom see
one another, when the French Revolution exploded its bomb at the gates
of the world's habits of thought.

No intelligent man ever objected to the French Revolution because it
stood for human rights, but because it led straight to human wrongs.
The dream was angelic, but the nightmare in which it ended was
devilish. The French Revolution was the most colossal disappointment
that humanity has ever had to bear.

More than the demagogue gives us credit for, are the great majority of
us eager to help our neighbors. The trouble is that the demagogue
thinks this, the most difficult of all things, an easy task. God and
Nature are harsh when they are training men, and we, alas, are soft,
hence most of our failures. Correction must be given with a rod, not
with a sop. There lies all the trouble.

The political and philanthropic wise men were setting out for the
manger and the babe, their eyes on the star, laden with gifts, when
they were met by a whiff of grape-shot from the guns commanded by a
young Corsican genius. The French Revolution found us all sympathetic,
but making men of equal height by lopping off their heads; making them
free by giving no one a chance to be free; making them fraternal by
insisting that all should be addressed by the same title of,
"citizen," was soon seen to be the method of a political nursery.

It was no fault of the French Revolution that it was no revolution at
all, in any political sense. Men maddened by oppression hit, kick,
bite, and burn. They are satisfied to shake the burden of the moment
off their backs, even though the burden th