The university professors, taken as a whole, were one of the most fiery elements of the nation. Not only did they inflame with their teachings the youthful minds entrusted to their care, and stamp them with an indelible imprint of nationalism, but they did not shrink from criticising the policy, too timid for their liking, pursued by the Imperial Government. I have in my possession letters from provincial savants, in which the Convention of November 4, 1911, is branded as a disgrace, and the name of Kiderlen-Wächter held up to the scorn of every German. One of them wrote: “Such a scandal will not occur again. Germany, conscious of herself and realizing her strength, will no longer tolerate a peaceful settlement of such affairs.” When all is said and done, the resolute champions of war—the only war in question being one with France, the opponent whose name was constantly cropping up in the patriotic books and journals—formed, so far as I could see, a rather small minority of the nation. This impression, which I gathered from my stay in Berlin and my travels about the provinces, both rich and poor, remains firmly fixed in my mind. When I call up the picture of this tranquil people, going steadily about its business every week-day, or comfortably seated every Sunday at the café tables and drinking the national glass of beer, I can remember nothing but those placid faces, on which violent passions, antipathy to the foreigner, and even the feverish stress of the battle for existence, had left none of those marks which I have sometimes observed elsewhere as a looker-on at the human crowd. III. How is it that this same nation responded as one man to the call of its Emperor and hurled itself with enthusiasm at its enemies? Because it thought it had been challenged, and that the frontiers, the welfare, the very existence of the Empire were in danger. Middle-class citizens, Socialist workmen or peasants, all were convinced that they were defending their country against the attack of Tsarism combined with warlike France and perfidious Albion; that the war had been desired, prepared, planned by the Powers of the Triple Entente, impelled by an ignoble envy or a traditional hatred. The Imperial Government’s master-stroke lay in showing the Austro-Serbian crisis in this light to German credulity, and in appearing itself as the blameless guardian of peace. We possess an official document which supplies the proof of this clever presentment of the facts—the White Book, laid by the Chancellor upon the table of the Reichstag on the 3rd of August.