ored the artists and thinkers of Europe "to save what little peace"
might yet be saved, and not to join with their pens in destroying the
future of Europe. Since then he has written some beautiful poems, one
of which, an Invocation to Peace, is inspired with deep feeling and
classical simplicity, and will find its way to many an oppressed heart.

Jeder hat's gehabt
Keiner hat's geschaetzt.
Jeden hat der suesse Quell gelabt.
O wie klingt der Name Friede jetzt!

Klingt so fern und zag,
Klingt so traenenschwer,
Keiner weiss und kennt den Tag,
Jeder sehnt ihn vol Verlangen her....

("Each one possessed it, but no one prized it. Like a cool spring it
refreshed us all. What a sound the word Peace has for us now!

"Distant it sounds, and fearful, and heavy with tears. No one knows or
can name the day for which all sigh with such longing.")

* * * * *

The attitude of the younger reviews is curious: for whereas the older,
traditional reviews (those which correspond to our _Revue des Deux
Mondes_ or our _Revue de Paris_) are more or less affected by military
fervor--thus, for instance, the _Neue Rundschau_, which printed Thomas
Mann's notorious vagaries on Culture and Civilization (_Gedanken im
Kriege_)--many of the younger ones affect a haughty detachment from
actual events.

That impassive publication, _Blaetter fuer die Kunst_, over which broods
the invisible personality of Stefan George, published at the end of 1914
a volume of poems of 156 pages, which did not contain a single line
referring to the war. A note at the end affirms that the points of view
of the various authors have not changed on account of recent events, and
anticipates the objection that "this is not the time for poetry," by the
saying of Jean Paul: "No period has so much need of poetry, as the one
which thinks it can do without it."

_Die Aktion_, a vibrating, audacious Berlin review, with an ultra-modern
point of view, totally different from the calm impersonality of _Blaetter
fuer die Kunst_, stated in its issue of August 15, 1914, that it would
not concern itself with politics, but would contain only literature and
art. And if it finds room in its literary columns for the war poems sent
from the field of battle by the military doctors, Wilhelm Klemm and Hans
Kock, it is in consideration of their value as art, and not for the
vivacity of their patriotic sentiments; for it scoffs me