is so fond of his wife and children, his simple life, his simple
pleasures, as the German."

"Very likely," Norgate assented, "but if you look out of the windows
continually you will also see that every station-master on the line wears
a military uniform, that every few miles you see barracks. These simple
peasants you speak of carry themselves with a different air from ours. I
don't know much about it, but I should call it the effect of their
military training. I know nothing about politics. Very likely yours is a
nation of peace-loving men. As a casual observer, I should call you more
a nation of soldiers."

"But that," Herr Selingman explained earnestly, "is for defence only."

"And your great standing army, your wonderful artillery, your Zeppelins
and your navy," Norgate asked, "are they for defence only?"

"Absolutely and entirely," Herr Selingman declared, with a new and
ponderous gravity. "There is nothing the most warlike German desires more
fervently than to keep the peace. We are strong only because we desire
peace, peace under which our commerce may grow, and our wealth increase."

"Well, it seems to me, then," Norgate observed, "that you've gone to a
great deal of expense and taken a great deal of trouble for nothing. I
don't know much about these things, as I told you before, but there is no
nation in the world who wants to attack Germany."

Herr Selingman laid his finger upon his nose.

"That may be," he said. "Yet there are many who look at us with envious