It was decided that these should be of a higher order than most of those existing; in fact, that their functions should begin where the ordinary educational curriculum ends, this system having been adopted with excellent effect in the French École Pratique des Hautes Études. In other words, the scholarships were to be entirely confined to research, and strict conditions were laid down as to the capability of the candidate to carry out original investigation. The scholarships were to be £150 a year in value, tenable for two years, and to be limited to those branches of science the knowledge of which is specially important for our national industries. The Commissioners from time to time were to select a number of institutions throughout the Empire in which high scientific instruction is given. Each university or college was to have the power of nominating a student to a scholarship on the condition that he exhibited a capacity for advancing science or its applications; these scholarships, when awarded, were to be tenable in any university, either at home or abroad, or other approved institutions.…
The fact that a large number of the nominating institutions are situated in the colonies, and that the scholars from these institutions come to the mother-country to carry out their scientific work, must exert an important influence in strengthening the relations between different parts of the Empire. The value of this system is fully appreciated by the authorities at home and abroad, and many are the instances in which men of ability, who would otherwise have been unable to follow a scientific career, or to assist the progress of our national industries, are now coming to the front in both respects. It has been well remarked that if, in the course of a century, even one Faraday should have been discovered, the sum spent would have been amply repaid.
The policy laid down by the original committee has since been pursued without essential variation, and what was at first regarded as an educational experiment has proved itself by the test of time an entirely successful undertaking, and one which has served as a model for the institution of similar foundations, both in this country and abroad.
In recognition of the services rendered on this committee, Roscoe was elected, in 1891, a member of the Royal Commission, and five years afterwards, in 1896, he became a member of the Board of Management, and at the same time succeeded Lord Playfair as Chairman of the Scholarships’ Committee.
As Chairman, the control and direction of the Committee’s work was very largely in his hands, and the care he devoted to every detail of the scholarship work undoubtedly contributed to the successful operation of the scheme.
But there was something more to value (says Mr. Evelyn Shaw, who contributes the above particulars) than the part he played in the proceedings of the Committee. The charm and sympathy of his personality were felt by so many scholars who had occasion to consult him upon their work, and who often afterwards remembered and were grateful for some kind and helpful advice. He never failed to watch with interest the careers of past scholars, as he regarded their record as the most convincing proof of the value of the Commissioners’ Endowment.
In 1901 he consented, on the invitation of Lord Elgin, the Chairman, to join the executive committee of the trustees appointed to carry out the administration of Mr. Andrew Carnegie’s munificent gift to the Scottish Universities for the benefit of scientific education; and he assisted in the inauguration of a system of Carnegie Scholarships and Fellowships for the encouragement of original investigation, resembling that of the Royal Commissioners of the 1851 Exhibition.
Roscoe acted as chief examiner in chemistry of the Science and Art Department in succession to the late Sir Edward Frankland, but resigned the appointment on his election to Parliament. He took a great interest in the aims of the department, and worked cordially with its administrative officers, especially in the abolition of the old system of “payment on results” for the elementary stage of science subjects, and in remodelling organized science schools.
The importance of properly housing the valuable science collections at South Kensington was constantly being pressed by him upon the Government. In 1909 he accompanied a strong deputation, and presented an influentially signed memorial to the Board of Education, pleading for larger and better accommodation for the unique and almost priceless exhibits of historically important objects which the museum possesses, some of which are absolutely irreplaceable. He pointed out how valuable such a collection was as an adjunct to the systematic teaching of science and technology. Each model, or piece of apparatus, or specimen of historic interest, was selected to bring into prominence underlying principles, or to illustrate various stages of industrial progress. In the temporary buildings in which the collections were placed, there was not only no room for the necessary expansion, but the objects were so crowded together that proper arrangement and inspection were impossible. What was needed was a building adequate to the proper exhibition of the present collection, and one worthy of British Science. He pointed out that one consequence of storing the collections in so haphazard and unsatisfactory a manner was that persons possessing objects of interest naturally felt indisposed to present them to the nation, and some of these when offered had to be refused through want of space. Land sufficient for the purpose was in the hands of the Government, and the Royal Commissioners for the 1851 Exhibition, so long ago as 1878, offered to contribute £100,000 towards a building for the Science Museum. Roscoe’s arguments were strongly supported by other members of the deputation, and Mr. Runciman, who was then at the Board of Education, expressed himself as convinced by their weight, and as wholly in sympathy with the object of the speakers. A gratifying result of this action is to be seen in the new buildings now in course of erection.
Roscoe’s high appreciation of Pasteur’s work as a chemist was, we may presume, the immediate cause of the great interest with which he had followed his remarkable discoveries concerning the causes and cure of chicken cholera, anthrax, and the silkworm disease—an interest quickened, no doubt, by the fact that he had made the personal acquaintance of that distinguished man as far back as the early ’sixties. He had specially informed himself of the working of the Institut Pasteur in Paris, and of the anti-rabic treatment, and had borne his share in combating the mischievous prejudices of those in this country who sought to misrepresent the character and objects of Pasteur’s work. In 1886 he had used his parliamentary influence to induce Mr. Chamberlain, who was then President of the Local Government Board, to appoint a Government Commission, consisting of the late Lord Lister, Sir James Paget, Professor Ray Lankester, and himself, with Sir Victor Horsley as secretary, to inquire and report on the efficacy of Pasteur’s treatment of hydrophobia. The Commission came to the conclusion, based upon irrefragable proof, that this treatment had been the means of saving a large number of lives that otherwise would have been sacrificed to a dreadful and torturing death. Their report induced Sir James Whitehead, when Lord Mayor of London, to call a Mansion House meeting for the purpose of raising a fund partly to defray the cost of sending poor persons, who may need treatment, to the Pasteur Institute in Paris, and partly to repay some of our indebtedness to Pasteur and his co-workers for having treated some two hundred of our countrymen gratuitously. The Royal Society requested Roscoe, with Sir James Paget and Professor Lankester, to represent them at the Lord Mayor’s meeting, and they supported the action by a formal letter from the President. Roscoe seized the opportunity of having to respond for “Science” at a Royal Academy banquet to direct further attention to the subject, and he subsequently spoke in the House of Commons of the great value of experiments on living animals in opposition to an amendment designed to impede the working of the Vivisection Acts. By memorials, popular lectures, and articles in the periodical press, he kept the subject continually before the public eye. Nor were his colleagues less active in instructing and forming public opinion. Their efforts eventually resulted in the establishment of an institute in London with aims similar to those of that in Paris. Thanks to the munificent action of Lord Iveagh, it has been housed and equipped not less worthily than its sister foundation. The London Institute of Preventive Medicine now bears the honoured name of Lord Lister, its first President.
Roscoe was its Treasurer from 1891 to 1904 and Chairman from 1904 to 1912, and again from 1914 to the time of his death. The building has now been completed at a cost of £28,000, entirely paid out of income, and there has been a gradual and considerable increase in the scientific staff and in the volume of work done. The formation of the Medical Research Committee was thought by Roscoe to affect the interests of the Institute, and he considered that it might be better to bring about a working arrangement between the two bodies. He felt that the independent existence of two such schemes of research might lead to rivalry rather than to co-operation, and that the superior resources of the Government Committee might operate to the disadvantage of the Institute. It was also thought that the addition of the resources of the Institute to those at the disposal of the Committee together with the union of the two scientific staffs would prove a great advantage to each and contribute largely to the success of both. Another more practical point was that the amalgamation scheme would remove from the Institute the burdensome necessity of having to earn money by routine diagnosis work in order to provide a sufficient income to support the scientific work, and to permit of its increase. This contemplated action gave rise to a considerable difference of opinion. As a question of policy it obviously admitted of two sides, and when the matter came up for decision the preponderating feeling was to let well alone and to allow the Institute to continue to develop along independent lines.
Roscoe’s services to science and to the cause of education were widely recognized. He was an honorary graduate of many universities at home and abroad, and an honorary or corresponding member of many foreign scientific societies. He was a D.C.L. of Oxford; and LL.D. of Cambridge (1883), Dublin (1878), Glasgow (1901), and Montreal (1884); and D.Sc. of Aberdeen, Liverpool, and Victoria. On the occasion of the eighth jubilee of the foundation of Heidelberg University he was made an honorary M.D.
He served as a member of the jury for chemical products of the English section of the French Exhibition of 1878, and was made an officer of the Legion of Honour, and in 1889 a corresponding member of the French Institute of the Academy of Sciences. He was an honorary member of the American Philosophical Society of Philadelphia and of the New York Academy of Sciences; of the Chemical Society of Berlin; of the Bunsen Gesellschaft, of the Verein für Naturwissenschaft of Brunswick, and of the Physikalische Verein of Frankfort; a corresponding member of the Bavarian Academy of Sciences of Munich, of the Royal Society of Sciences of Göttingen, of the Royal Accad. Lincei of Rome, and of the Academy of Natural Science of Catania; a member of the Leop. Carol. Akad. of Halle, and of the Physiogr. Sällsk of Lund. He was an honorary member of the Royal Irish Academy, and of the Literary and Philosophical Society of Manchester. In 1912 the Franklin Institute awarded him the Elliott Cresson Gold Medal.
He was sworn of the Privy Council in 1909—an honour which he accepted not only as a personal distinction but as a recognition of the claims of Science.
But of all the distinctions and marks of appreciation he received in the course of his long and busy life, none afforded him a truer or more heart-felt gratification than the action taken by his old pupils in celebrating the fiftieth anniversary of the date—March 25, 1854—on which he took his Heidelberg degree. The warmth and cordiality with which the idea of commemorating his jubilee was received, not only by his former students but by every teaching institution, academic body, and scientific society with which he was or had been connected, was a striking testimony to the regard and esteem in which he was universally held. The University of Heidelberg renewed its diploma of Doctor Philosophiæ Naturalis, and accompanied it by an address from the Grand Duke of Baden, Rector of the University, the Pro-Rector, Senior Dean, and the other professors of the Philosophical Faculty. Addresses were also sent by University College, London, the Victoria University, and the Universities of London, Liverpool, Birmingham, Wales, Scotland, Montreal, Melbourne, New Zealand, and Tokyo; King’s College, London, the Yorkshire College, and the University Colleges of Sheffield, Newcastle, and Dundee; the Royal and Chemical Societies, the Society of Chemical Industry, British Association, the Lister and Pasteur Institutes, and a number of the academies and scientific societies of Germany, Italy, Holland, and America. In addition a large number of congratulatory letters and messages were received from distinguished friends, chemists, and physicists throughout Europe, America, and the British Dominions beyond the Seas.
The celebration was held on April 22, 1904, in the beautiful Whitworth Hall of the Victoria University in the presence of a large and enthusiastic gathering of former students and colleagues, and of friends who had journeyed to Manchester to present addresses.
Of all these addresses, the one, he says in his autobiography, that touched him most nearly was that from his former pupils. It ran as follows:
We, the undersigned, all of whom have the honour to number ourselves among your pupils, desire on the occasion of the celebration of the Fiftieth Anniversary of the date of your graduation as a Doctor of Philosophy of the University of Heidelberg to offer you our hearty congratulations, and to express our pleasure that you are able to be with us in health and strength to receive this testimony of our gratitude and esteem.
The half-century which has elapsed since the day of your Doctor promotion summa-cum-laude, has witnessed an extraordinary development in that branch of natural knowledge to which you have particularly devoted yourself. We recall with pride in how large a measure your own labours have contributed to that growth—by your work as an original investigator, by your literary productions, by your remarkable and almost unexampled success as a teacher, by the influence you have exerted in the organization and direction of societies concerned with Science, by your unceasing and well-directed efforts to secure for Science its due position in the scheme of National Education and the fuller recognition of its relations to the well-being of civilized communities. It was your good fortune at the outset of your career to come under the influence of illustrious chemical philosophers—Graham, Williamson, Bunsen. Your good fortune has been our great gain. You have not only worthily upheld the traditions associated with such names, but you have inspired others by your example. Your influence is to be seen in the creation of the great School of Chemistry in which you have laboured for thirty years, and in which you taught hundreds of pupils; it is equally felt in the many similar places throughout this kingdom which are modelled upon the lines you indicated, and which are to-day actuated by your method and example.
We gratefully recall the obligations that we are under to you as our teacher, and we cherish the memory of the signal services you have rendered to the Institution of which we are proud to be members. You came to it in the days of its precarious infancy, you assisted to rear it into a vigorous youth, sharing its aspirations, and stimulating its endeavours; you behold it now of age, and entering upon a great career.
That you should have lived to see and enjoy this fruition of your labours is a matter of special gratification to us, as it must be to you. Blessed with continuing health and happiness may you long be spared to witness its growth in prosperity and usefulness.
To this address he replied:
Of all gratifying and far too flattering addresses which I am to-day receiving, none come so near my heart as that signed by three hundred of my former students.
What can a teacher value more than the sympathy and good opinion of his pupils, and this you have given me in full measure.
If I succeeded in forming a School of Chemistry at Owens, it was because, in the first place, I learnt from Bunsen how the foundations of such a school must be laid; secondly, because I fortunately secured the co-operation in the task of good men and true, like Schorlemmer and Dittmar; and last but not least because I was surrounded by an ever-increasing band of young men imbued with the true scientific spirit, able and anxious to devote themselves to the study and to the advancement of their science.
Well aware of my own deficiencies, and recognizing the gulf which lies between promise and performance, I yield to none in the personal interest which I take in your progress and welfare, and in the affectionate remembrance in which I hold each and all of you. Many, many thanks.
In his later years, and when the physical disabilities of age kept him more and more indoors, Roscoe occupied himself in contributing short articles to the Deutsche Revue on academic or educational subjects. Thus in his first article he recalls his Heidelberg experiences, and dwells upon his friendly relations with German men of science, dating from the early ’fifties of the last century. In a second article he describes the rise of the English Universities—ancient and modern—their characteristics and the differences in constitution and methods between them and the German Universities. In 1908 an article entitled “An English Man of Science on the Friendship of the German Emperor for England and upon the relations of England and Germany,” indicates a certain feeling of anxiety at the growing unrest he perceives in reference to Germany’s intentions in so rapidly increasing the strength of her fleet. He follows this up with a longer article on “The Peace Mission of the Sciences,” in which he expands a favourite theme to which, to our grief, circumstances have now given the lie direct. In quick succession he writes letters to the editor on “A few words concerning England and Germany”; “International Understanding”; “No more War in Europe”—in which he strives to remove misapprehension, and to make clear to German readers that there is no widespread feeling of animosity in this country towards the Fatherland.
The following letter to the writer refers to this matter:—
… Has Anschütz sent you his pamphlet on Couper? It is very interesting, and places C. on a level with Kekulé.… I am languishing for some scientific converse. I fear no chance of seeing you at present. But I should like to!
As a Zeitvertreib I have written a political diatribe entitled “Es soll in Europa kein mehr Krieg seyn” for the Deutsche Revue. The Powers will tremble when they read it—which they won’t! But the editor is pleased and calls me—or rather, I fancy, his daughter does—“Dearest Sir Henry”!
Under the title of “King Edward VII the Peacemaker” he contributed to the same review a short article written a few weeks after the King’s death, in which he dilated on his high personal qualities, his merits as a ruler, and his love of order and peace. His last communication on “Germany and England” the editor declined to print, but it was published in Nord und Sud, an old-established and well-known fortnightly review of good repute. The article is so characteristic of the good sense and right feeling of its author that it is well worthy of reproduction, apart from its interest in relation to the one supreme topic of the time.
Germany and England.
I write neither from the point of view of a diplomatist nor of a politician, but simply as a scientific man who, being a Menschenfreund and Deutsch-gesinnt and anxious to see differences between the nations as between individuals disappear, asks himself the questions, who are the people who are stirring up all this discord; what do they mean; what do they want; what is their power? We in England call these men Jingoes. In Germany, I believe, they are termed Pan-Germans or All-Deutschen. In France they are “Revanchistes,” and in Italy “Irredentisti.”
What they mean is clear enough; they mean mischief. What they want is not so plain, for they do not tell us in simple language; indeed, I doubt whether they know themselves. That their language, whether spoken or written, is more or less dangerous to the peace of the world everybody admits. What is their power, and how far that danger goes, is another question. Nobody believes that their wish to set the nations by the ears is shared by the mass of mankind. The general good sense and honesty of the people of every nationality is a strong bulwark against Chauvinism. And if the true opinion of the British and of the German peoples could be obtained who can doubt that it would be in favour of peace and good feeling rather than of hostility and war? But to err is human, and to be misled is easy, so that it behoves those who love progress and hate all that opposes progress to use all efforts to denounce and destroy Chauvinism in every country and in every form. In England Jingoism has practically no power. In Parliament certainly none—witness the speeches lately delivered in both Houses—not one note of ill-feeling towards Germany was heard. On the contrary, the warmest expressions of appreciation of goodwill and friendship fell from the lips not only of the members of the present Government in Lords and Commons, but also from the leaders of the Opposition in both Houses, and the wish for an understanding with Germany was universal and emphatic.
In the British Press, with a few dishonourable and unimportant exceptions, the same thing may truthfully be said. The working classes have never been infected by anti-Germanism. Our commercial men, who are brought into intimate trading relations with the Germans, desire an Anglo-German understanding beyond all other aspirations in the sphere of foreign policy.
To believe that England now wishes, or is likely ever to wish, to go to war with Germany is a delusion in which only the insane can indulge. What on earth, may well be asked, can England gain by commencing war with Germany? Suppose, for instance, the British fleet could bombard and destroy Hamburg; in what way would such an act of vandalism benefit us? In no possible way; on the contrary, we should be cutting our own throats, for is not Hamburg one of our best customers, merely to look at the transaction from a monetary point of view?
Let me pull down another idol. It has been said, and is still believed by many persons who ought to know better, that England is jealous of the rising, or risen, world-wide trade of Germany, and is determined to stop it in defence of her own. That such a view has been expressed by certain of my countrymen is, of course, a fact. But surely this is a totally false view. Imagine, if you can, Germany reduced to the condition of half a century ago, poor, disunited, with little or no world-wide trade. Would English commerce be more flourishing than when, as now, Germany is rich, united, and trading the wide world over? Certainly not. The richer our neighbours and competitors become the more will our own trade benefit. A man with sixpence in his pocket is not much good as a buyer. With a handful of gold he is a welcome customer! What the trade between the two countries was worth fifty years ago I don’t know, but it must have been a mere fraction of what it now amounts to, namely, over 100 millions sterling a year.
Is there any other point of view from which the notion that England can personally gain by making war on Germany can be urged? I do not know of one, and perhaps our Jingoes may even admit this. But say they: “If we do not declare war Germany is certain to do so. Is it not better for us to choose our own time and occasion rather than allow our enemy to take the step when the conditions are most favourable to them?” This conclusion is sound provided the premises are also sound. Does Germany intend to declare war or so to act as to bring about a war with this country? What is the evidence? Certainly if we are to accept the statements of the All-Deutschen party as representing the opinion of the nation at large there are good grounds for believing that war is inevitable. But surely every one who knows anything of Germany and German opinion is certain that the All-Deutschen have even less power to bring about war than our own Jingoes have, and that their utterances represent public opinion in Germany to a less extent than those of our Jingoes represent the English opinion. The debates in the Reichstag, the speeches of your Ministers, the expressions in the more responsible organs of the German Press, and the outspoken opinion of the German working classes, all tell the same tale, “We do not want war.”
Still there remains in Germany a strong and widespread feeling of animosity—not to use a harsher term—towards England. Upon what is this feeling based? What has England done, is doing, or is going to do that should create such a feeling of mistrust and enmity? I have never been able to answer this question, and I believe it arises out of a misunderstanding and misconception; a sort of revival of the old French cry of “Perfide Albion.” Can these All-Germans point to any one of the many Anglo-German agreements which have been arrived at from the time when Germany began to expand down to the present moment which has not given Germany every opportunity to take her place in the sun?
Let me come to the point. Has England interfered with German trade? If she has, she has failed egregiously, for in spite of England’s supposed efforts German trade has increased and is increasing by leaps and bounds. But what signs of interference has England shown? Can your Pan-Germans point to a single instance? It is easy to write fiery articles, and to attribute ill-feeling or jealousy, to say Germany cannot come out in the sun because Britain “rules the waves,” to assert that Englishmen dislike and despise the Germans, and that we are jealous of German prosperity. This is not only foolish and unfriendly talk, but it is false from beginning to end. Instead of endeavouring to limit German trade our policy of the open door has had the effect of expanding it enormously. All our ports at home and in foreign waters, all our offices, shops, and industries are open, and educated Germans have taken great advantage of our policy both to their own and to our immense benefit. Wherever British industry or commerce flourishes there German merchants or manufacturers are found, and there they remain. In our own great cities, in those of our oversea dominions, as well as in our most distant settlements, the ubiquitous German flourishes, and is a welcome strength to the community. What more can England do to assist German trade and industry than she has done and is doing? How can it with any truth be said that England stops Germany from coming out into the sun? “Yes,” these Pan-Germans may say, “we grant that you are very kind, and give us a helping hand. That is, however, not good enough for Germany. We must stand alone. We insist upon having a Colonial Empire, an Oversea Dominion, a Deutschland über See, as you have in Australasia, Canada, and South Africa.”
Well, if these views were those of the German nation instead of that of a somewhat insignificant clique, and if Germany were to determine that at all hazards this wish must be fulfilled, the question would at once become of grave importance, because that would mean certain war with Britain, and probably with the United States. And for this reason England being a long consolidated great Power (Welt Macht), and having had the command of the sea, and her people having the faculty of successful colonization, has, for the last four hundred years at least, sent forth peaceful armies to annex and dwell in the most fruitful and habitable—but uncivilized—parts of the world. To such an extent has this movement been successful that nearly all the areas of land not already occupied by civilized man, and capable of being made a permanent home by Europeans, have been taken over by Englishmen or Americans, so that little space of the kind is left for the young and aspiring German nation to annex. Whether for good or for evil she has come too late for this game of grab, unless, indeed, she is so rash as to try to take land from those now in possession. This, of course, entails war, and war the damage of which—even if victorious on her side—no amount of land or gold could even in a small degree repay. As to the truth of this statement, consult the Credit Bankers of Berlin, and ask them what would be the condition of the Berlin Exchange the day after war was declared between Germany and England. I, for my part, do not believe that Germany or its people are gone mad, or likely to become so, and therefore I do not believe that Germany will ever try to wrest from England her Oversea Dominions or to invade the New World with the millions of armed men necessary to establish a Fatherland in the West.
Much has lately been said about Germany being over-populated. Her people increase by nearly one million souls yearly. “Some outlet for these millions must be found,” say the All-Deutsch. Is this so clear? The population of Germany is not nearly so dense as that of our own country or that of Belgium, and in both these countries the conditions of life are quite as favourable as those in the Fatherland. Moreover, is it not true that to-day thousands of workers from other lands are flocking to fill new posts created by the ever-increasing demand for labour in the German industries?
No! the high and glorious aim and true function of the German nation is not to try to conquer by the “mailed fist” either on land or sea, but to show how the world may be dominated by proving to mankind the grand results which accrue to civilization when a nation has both the power and the determination to carry out its high ideals. No other nation in either the Old or the New World possesses these ideals in such high degree, and is, therefore, so fully able and so well fitted to take the lead in this new departure as the German.
The old game of war is played out. It has become a disgraceful instead of a glorious one in the eyes of twentieth-century men. We look to Germany to show how a modern state is to be carried on for the greatest good of its own people so as to become an example to the rest. Take the opinions of your great men of Science—men of the stamp of Helmholtz—men who looked forward instead of backwards, and be guided by them. Ask them in what is national glory to consist in the coming centuries. Do not pin your faith on those who, like Treitschke, argue that because war has been, it must continue to be, men who preach the false doctrine that its influence is a purifying one, and a saving grace. These views are those of the past. They do not represent the present, still less the future opinion of mankind.
The time is now ripe, for has not Dr. von Bethmann-Hollweg said on the part of the German people that the national slate is clean? It will be the greatest wickedness and folly of both nations if this appeal to the better feelings of the peoples is not welcomed and acted upon.
Let Germany pursue her ideals, and her actions will rule the world, because those ideals and actions make for peace and progress.
That there was a section—and a not inconsiderable section—of the German public to whom this appeal was not in vain was manifested by the publication in Stuttgart of a remarkable article on “World Supremacy or War,” written under the nom-de-plume of “Nostradamus.” This so impressed Roscoe that he translated it for the British-German Friendship Society—a society of influential persons who strove to stem the rising tide which broke down all barriers on that fateful day of August 1914. The purport of the article was to point out that the true policy of Germany was to seek an alliance with England. The writer admitted that we were the first to offer the hand of friendship, but that under Bülow’s régime it was declined. He further shows it was this circumstance that led England to seek alliances elsewhere—an action that was not only natural but essential to our well-being, and wholly due to the short-sighted policy of Germany. The pamphlet is too long to be quoted in full, but a few extracts, read in the light of what is happening, may be of interest.
World Supremacy or War.
… We have often enough declared that we never mean to attack England. Does any one imagine that a prudent nation will trust to such words when it comes to a question for her of to be or not to be? What is it those Britons see who have been following with interest for twenty years the events which have taken place in our country? A steady and continuous increase of armaments; a fleet born and growing each year more and more rapidly; a ruler who is restlessly active—now in the saddle, now on the captain’s bridge; his palace only used for sleeping. Wherever the Kaiser goes his forces are in the forefront. Exercises, manœuvres, mobilization of the fleet, war games, conferences, and speeches quickly follow one another. His speeches refer oftener than needful to the grip of the sword, and at the same time he sedulously endeavours to negotiate personally with his neighbouring States. Such things as the Kruger telegram and the expedition to Tangiers look like froth, but they really hide personal wishes and inclinations. Thus do the English see us. What can they, what must they think of it all? We are grown to be neighbours and yet we arm and arm. Our trade is protected, and for offensive purposes a fleet will arouse little sympathy. Have not both Holland and Belgium a large trade and yet no one thinks of wresting it from them.
Against what is Germany arming if not against England’s command of the sea? Must not every Englishman think so? Has not their mistrust been fostered by our policy, by the utterances of our men of mark, by the opinions of our Press, and last but not least by the propaganda of our Navy League?
How can a clear-headed people like the English entertain friendly feelings for us in view of these evident proofs of our mistrust? We have driven England into the Double Alliance. “He who is not with me is against me.” Should we not do exactly the same? We carry on a sentimental policy, play the injured party, whilst suspicion prevents us from being open-minded.
The German Empire ought therefore only to have a fleet sufficient for her real needs, able to defend her coasts, to act as maritime police in the areas of smaller States, and to perform convoy duty for our troop-ships to our colonies. A larger fleet is in fact either a luxury or it is directed against England. Such logic is inexorable. For our centre of gravity—otherwise than is the case with England—lies at home. We are not dependent on the importation of foodstuffs; the 5 per cent. of what is not grown on our own soil must be sacrificed in war.
As to our commerce, there will be no dispute. In the countries where our goods are sold the German merchant is not only a necessity but valued as an indispensable friend and educator. The merchant who is not able to create such a position is not worth having battleships near him to back up his weaknesses. Only the excellence and tastefulness of the wares he has to sell and the tact and ingenuity of the seller, coupled with a full knowledge of local requirements, can ensure the prosperity of our commerce; never the mailed fist! This cannot be repeated too often or too emphatically.
Up to now the agreement with France and Russia has guaranteed England’s safety. Now England sees that France, relying on the military convention with her two friends, is working seriously for war. She knows that in Russia the voice for war against Germany is increasing. Such a war would weaken England’s Navy; it would throw a hundred and fifty thousand Englishmen on the battlefield;[30] it would mean heavy demands on the country’s finance and her colonies might make threatening movements against her sovereignty. She would also lose her best buyer and seller. Europe’s predominance would be imperilled!
These are the weighty reasons why the English Government are trying—even at the eleventh hour—to prevent this war.
Many object that the psychological moment will not arrive for this war. Internal conditions will tend to promote it. Never have the opportunities been so favourable for the French and Russians to cross swords with us, and to endeavour to annihilate our position as a leading Power of the Continent.
France sees her population going down year by year. In the same ratio the prospect is dwindling for France to regain Alsace Lorraine and thereby increase of dominion, population, and prestige. The hatred of the conqueror continues to blaze; they have long since lost all respect for us, and they are longing to measure their strength with ours. Newspapers and leaflets stir up the flame and preach ceterum censeo.
The Republic undoubtedly binds the people together more closely, and will provide more means and men for their armaments than is the case with us. And the call will not be in vain, neither are Alliances nor Military Conventions. Russia’s Army and England’s fleet, plus 150,000 men, are guaranteed to France. Italy is tied up in Tripoli, the North Sea Canal is unusable, a third of the German voters have shown themselves as enemies of the State, and party disputes have demoralized the nation. When will such a concatenation be repeated?
And what is the outlook for Germany?
Do not let us fear to look the matter straight in the face. A war on three sides. Our Navy against three Navies, and a triple superiority. Victory at sea is impossible. However much we may harm our opponents we are certain to lose many colonies. On the mainland fighting on two flanks. Of course we cannot deny it and must look at the future coolly. It is idle to waste words about such a war; let us leave talk to others. Let us look at a favourable solution: the defeat of both opponents. What would peace bring us? Annexation of more French or Russian possessions? No rational being could think of such a poisoned gift.
And what about overseas and colonies? In foreign parts we shall have nothing more to say, for our mercantile and naval fleet will be almost entirely destroyed. And as for money indemnity, even in case we conquered our opponents we cannot hope for heavy terms. We shall be glad after this blood-letting to embrace peace and to receive a portion of our war expenses. We should have to fight hard, and only through rivers of blood and by straining every nerve can we hope to keep our Empire intact. In the 1870 war against the French Empire in nearly every case our victories were bought with superior losses. And how dear these victories cost us!
But not numbers, nor weapons, nor careful preparations in times of peace are going to conquer in the war of the future. Esprit alone will turn the scale, and to quote the words of Frederick the Great, “The esprit of an army lies in its officers.” Those officers will have the best influence on their men who have the most hardened physique and who are trained each one according to his particular bent, and are able to do without comforts and have the natural gift of comradeship with the common soldier combined with strict discipline. They must evoke the soldiers’ esteem and dependence and the blind trust which the unselfish care of their men will produce. This can be brought about only by placing the well-being of the troops in the forefront, and without the slightest consideration on the officers’ part for their own advantage, unselfishly sinking their personality, rising to every situation with courage, and bracing up every weakling or coward under their care by their example. That corps which possesses these qualities to the fullest extent will carry victory with their colours, and only such a set of officers can be our salvation.
Do not let us underestimate our opponents.
On the west we have the French Army with a lurking desire for revenge, its material intelligent and full of soldierly qualities. The sons of the Republic will fight with the same courage they did in the 1870-1871 campaign but under better generalship. The French have learnt a great deal; may we not admit this to-day?
And how is it with us?
An admission must be made at a critical moment. That moment has arrived. In the course of time the sober and earnest speech and thought of the old Prussians has become remote. Let us beware of overconfidence in ourselves. We have a forty years’ peace behind us, which is not very good for the German Army. So much for us.
And what will victory bring us?
The loss of our Navy and our Colonies, and our own destruction only avoided by a sea of blood. What will happen when the people return home, awakened as to their own character and chastened by a fruitless fight? We speak of a favourable result. And if this does not occur? If Germany does not win in the next war shall we be bled to death? Bismarck said this, and let us admit it openly: “In this war we have nothing to gain and everything to lose.”
He who brings about this war and who does not try to obviate the danger is perpetrating the greatest outrage on the German nation. He is endangering the creation of Bismarck and his King; he is playing with loaded dice.
Here was a voice crying in the wilderness—a prophet without honour in his own country! But how true are his words!
In 1863 Roscoe married the lady whom he had first met in his aunt Crompton’s drawing-room in Hyde Park Square—Lucy, the youngest member of the family of Edmund Potter, Esq., M.P. for Carlisle, a well-known Manchester merchant and a friend and co-worker of Bright and Cobden.
Lady Roscoe was a strong and sincere character, of wide sympathies and generous impulses, with a rich fund of common sense, and a high standard of duty and performance. She had many intellectual interests and a cultivated taste; was well read, a good judge of literary work, and an assiduous collector of old rare and beautiful prints. In the early days of her married life, and at a time when she had to work with wet collodion or to prepare her own dry plates, she was recognized by experts as a clever photographer, and obtained medals from the Photographic Society for the technical excellence and artistic merit of her exhibits. She was an admirable hostess, and all who have had the privilege of partaking of her hospitality cherish an unfading memory of her kindly manner, her quiet dignity, and unfailing tact. Time dealt tenderly with her; the additional years brought an added charm, a widened sympathy, and a larger measure of gentleness and pity. With her healthful, smiling face and beautiful white hair, her characteristically simple dress and the rare lace she draped about her head and shoulders, no woman was ever more successful in the art of growing old gracefully. She died in 1910. Of this union it was said by one who had the best opportunities of judging: “Of the forty-seven years of married life one who looked on can say there never were two more of one heart and mind.” The one sorrow of their lives—and it was a profound sorrow, a grief that changed the whole current of their aspirations—was the death of their only son when an undergraduate at Magdalen College, Oxford, just as he was entering on manhood. He was a young man of great charm of manner, of high ideals, and a strong sense of duty and responsibility, and with the ambition to serve in a career of public usefulness or in some position in which his well-marked powers of literary expression might be turned to account. Two daughters were also born of this marriage, the elder of whom married Mr. Charles E. Mallet, formerly M.P. for Plymouth and Under-Secretary for War in the last Liberal Government.
Nowhere did Roscoe appear to greater advantage than in his home. His domestic life was singularly unclouded save for the one great sorrow “that failed the bright promise of an early day.” He had no great anxieties and few cares—only the passing ones that attend the work of one who strives to do with all his might whatsoever his hand findeth to do. He was
This happy condition of mind was, no doubt, largely temperamental; it was based upon a calm and equable disposition that would have taken Fortune’s buffets and rewards with equal thanks. That there were more rewards than buffets was due less to Fortune than to himself, for he was the architect of his own career, and used his opportunities wisely. It is true he started with advantages—a handsome presence, a well-knit, manly frame, a frank, ingenuous manner, good social connections, and, after his marriage, no anxieties as to the res angusta domi.
He was fond of the society of his fellows, hospitably disposed, and of a warm, genial nature. Indeed he had a genius for friendship, and a boundless capacity for sympathy and kindness—instinctive, spontaneous, impulsive—the sort of sympathy where action follows hard upon the heels of inclination, and the kind of kindness which is doubled because it acts quickly. Innumerable instances of his little nameless, but not unremembered acts of kindness and of love might be culled from a correspondence which stretches over half a century. But one characteristic action must suffice: