A GERMAN IN ENGLAND.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2580, 14 August 1909, Page 3 (Supplement)

A GERMAN IN ENGLAND.

GENERAL IMPRESSIONS

(By Oscar T. Schweriner, iii the “Daily Mail.”)

The following article is the first of a series by Dr. Schwerin er, the wellknown German writer. The articles are printed exactly as written in English by the author. This is my second day in England.

As much as a man can see of London in twenty-four hours, and the rest of England in the time it takes to get here from Queenborough-—that *is to say—; in two hours—l have seen> I have seen it as a German would —unbiased, anxious to learn, happy to be in the country of Shakespeare, if for ho other reason. Seen it through German spectacles and compared it with home. Here are the results of. the first twenty-four hours:—

The cigar hunt the Custom House officials instituted in the trunks of passengers did not take long; we passed out of the building, and I had mv iirst glance at England.

ENGLISH MANNERS. Let me say that it was a surprise in the wrong direction. For the first glance one of things English: alter landing at Queenborough is the train of the C.E. and Chatham line—l hope ! quote the name correctly—waiting outside” the hall to take the passengers up to London. I beheld a number of waggons of our old style fourth-class carriages. Nor did the exterior belie the interior, Dingy, narrow, low-roof-ed they seemed a relic of days gone by. And then some official came up and actually locked me in. I was startled. There seemed no way of opening the door from the inside, and I could not help wondering what ivould happen if some accident should necessitate a quick exit. And another thing I could not help thinking. What would happen if such a state of things existed in Germany? For I have been told that this special line is the standing joke of the country ; that protest after protest is issued by the travelling public, and that the patriotic Englishman returned from abroad usually feels ashamed at the sight of those waggons. In Germany the railway is owned by the State. I will not discuss the merits of private or Government ownership. No doubt the medal has its two sides. But this much is certain: the German Secretary of Railways would be “heckled” in the Reichstag so continually and successfully that the obnoxious waggons w’ould soon be either altered or disappear altogether.

Someone has asked me: "Does London make a prosperous impression?" It certainly does—round Piccadilly and Regent-street. It certainly does not round Shoreditch.

To my German mind prosperity is synonymous with progress. One is impossible without the other. Of progress, however, I see—at least at the first glance—no sign in London. One sign, the surest one, of progress is building. It lias become almost a nuisance in Berlin. Berlin is progressing steadily. And if you say Berlin is young, London is old, I answer: "We do not build on new sites only, we tear old buildings down. If a new enterprise, a business house, or an hotel springs up, old houses must be torn down to make room for tbe new' establishment. On the other hand Pall Mall, Regent Street, Piccadilly, and the Strand do not speak only of prosperity, but of superfluity. I have never seen so many well-dressed people, especially men, so many smart carriages and motor cars, such evident heaping of capital together in one section of any city as I have seen round here. But this seems to me to denote only the affluence of the upper, the splendid prosperity of the better middle class; and the question arises—How about the others? Or one may still spea'k of the prosperity of a town that "boasts” of ragged children in front of soup kitchens, squares like Hoxton market, and living-rooms that we would hesitate to use as a pigsty? That sounds hard, but I have seen such rooms in Shoreditch. I have seen them, without especially hunting for them, the first day in London. So they cannot be hard to. find. But one must look deeper to determine the question, no doubt. I shall have more to say on this in a day or two. It, was not London so much, as the Londoner that took me by surprise. Like a good' many—of my compatriots, I did not know England, but I thought T. knew tbe English. Not personally, of course, I have heard about them, read about them, in the same way as those readers of this journal who have not been in Germany have no doubt beard and read about the Germans. And just as surely as many Englishmen honestly believe they know all about the Germans, just so surely did I .believe myself to know the English. And what I imagined I knew, of them was not all of the best. For, much as the Germans otherwise admire the English-—and I repeat this because it is a fact—they consider them—well, a bit arrogant. During the last twentyfour hours —That, is to say, ever since 1 left my train at Victoria Station™ I have been trying to puzzle out why this is so. The men who attended to me at the station, the men at the hotel, the men whom I addressed in the streets, seeking.advice, they were all politeness—if cold politeness—-itself. It seemed , as if either the Englishman must change his whole nature the moment he left home, or as if only a certain portion of the, British population, and not the most pleasant part, of it, travelled abroad. ..Until I went up to a policeman to as'lc about the direction of a street.; Then, like a flash, I had solved the riddle. For-when I approached this man I politely lifted my hat, and started in with: "Excuse me, but would you be so kind as’V-ancl popped my question. The representative of law

and order gazed upon mo a moment or two. I felt “he sized me up.” Then.: “Two to the right, one to the left!” lie said. That was all. Ho never touched his cap in reply to my salutation. He never thought it worth while to reply to my “Thank you.” “Two to the right, one to the left!” Now' I understood. I understood this to be not an intended impoliteness, but the English way.

THE ENGLISHMAN- ABROAD. But now take the Englishman just come to Germany for the first time. It is ten to one he knows the language of the country but poorly. He steps up to anyone—a private citizen, a policeman, anyone —and asks .as well as possible for /information. Ho will get it all right. But as he has not lifted his hat, has not made his bow, has not excused liimself 3 line loft aside all those little points of etiquette the G.erman is so keen on, he only needs to turn his back and the others are ready with tlieir verdict: ‘ ‘Aren’t they arrogant, those English!” Which only proves how deceptive appearances are. How easily it is to misunderstand each other! Between men, such a misunderstanding is soon cleared up, one chat and the matter is settled. Between nations it is more difficult. There it is necessary for someone to explain. International visits are good, hut the given'' factor is the Press. For instance, in this little matter of supposed English arrogance. Surely one only needs to come here, needs" only to feel the grip of the Englishman’s hand, to look him in the eye, to hear his one word of welcome —and know how it is meant. The trouble is that everybody cannot come over and find out. I wish they could! ' At the end of my twenty-four hours’ stay in England I have come to the following conclusion: —If all the Englishmen could meet all the Germans for just a feiv hours’ talk there would ensue a friendship as of brothers; a friendship that no power on earth could part. Because then, probably for the first time in their lives, they would understand each other. And that is all that is needed.

(To be Continued.)