The whole philosophy seems paganism, or rather barbarism, with a moral veneer. It seems barbarism, because it brings us back to the good old days when mere might was right. Bernhardi, speaking of the right of conquest of new territory inherent in a growing people, tells us that in such cases 'might is at once the supreme right, and the dispute as to what is right is decided by the arbitrament of war', which gives a 'biologically just decision'! And he expresses wonder and surprise at those who think that 'the weak nation is to have the same right to live as the powerful and vigorous nation'. In a word, then, might is right. The doctrine has in itself a rude barbaric simplicity: what is utterly revolting in the neo-Germanic presentment is its moral veneer--the talk of war as the fruit of 'political idealism' and the expression of the 'social organism': the talk of 'historical development' as invalidating supposed 'rights' like the neutrality of Belgium; above all, the talk of power as 'the vehicle of the highest culture'. Treitschke, a stern Protestant, seeks to reconcile the doctrine with Christianity; but the doctrine is all the same pagan. It is the worship of brute force disguised as _Heldentum_, and of vicious cunning disguised as political morality: it is a mixture of Nietzsche[184] and of Machiavelli. It is a doctrine of the omnipotence of the super-nation, which 'to maintain its state', as Machiavelli said, 'will go to work against faith and charity and humanity and religion', and which will stride ruthlessly to war when 'the day' comes. And when it goes to war, all the veneer of culture goes. 'Have a care', Mommsen once said, 'lest in this state, which has been at once a power in arms and a power in intelligence, the intelligence should vanish, and nothing but the pure military state should remain.' Mommsen's warning has come true in August, 1914. By their fruits ye shall know them. The fruits of _Heldentum_ are Louvain smoking in ashes to the sky.