Paul Strossmayer had been educated in England and now returned to it on specific service for the new State. He pursued his purposes with enthusiasm and made no secret of them. Indeed, upon the occasion of his first visit to the club, accident willed that he should give us particulars. General Fordyce made him welcome and he accepted our friendly reception with grace and even gratitude. He gave a first impression of an ambitious, self-centered man — a man who knew exactly what he wanted, was confident that he could achieve his purpose, and would not allow sentiment or any other emotion to come between him and his goal.
He ordered a whiskey and soda, drew a cigar from his case and went to one of the four writing desks which surrounded the smoking room. We then continued to pursue our subject and presently, when he had completed two letters, he changed his chair and occupied a vacant one beside me. He waited for a while, to pick up the gist of the topic, and when he had done so, revealed that our subject was not only interesting to him, but one upon which he stood deeply informed.
“You are touching the very matter that brings me to this country, gentlemen,” he said pleasantly. “Permit that to be my introduction. Would you like me to speak?”
The ingenuous question attracted us.
“We were considering the application of Science to the great world problems of the future,” I said.
“Surely the supreme, vital subject for all active minds,” he answered. “Is there another topic remotely akin to this in gravity, or full of more tremendous significance? I hold a brief for Science. I, and those for whom I am privileged to work — the keenest intellects in Jugo-Slavia today — perceive with profound conviction that it is Science which will remould Europe and rebuild the second chaos, in which even our greatest statesmen now move as blind men. For in our judgment, the countries destined first to emerge from the confusion, the houses likely first to be set in order, are those which defer before all else to their chemist-philosophers. Yes, we link the terms, because through organic chemistry and its philosophical application shall emerge the supreme, physical powers to control and direct future civilization.”
“A soulless hope,” murmured General Fordyce.
“Sufficient for the day is the problem thereof,” answered Paul Strossmayer.
“But would you set physical energies before the humanistic and spiritual power which others hold vital to rejuvenation of humanity?” asked Jack Smith. “Would you deny that to the Arts we must look first, and lead man upward from his heart rather than his head, Mr. Strossmayer?”
“We Jugo-Slavs are concerned with things as they are,” he answered. “Humanity lives on its belly, and the soul of a hungry, angry, dishonored world can offer little material for human salvation, while its children lack food. We — first of all in the Balkans — are a spiritual nation, as I believe; but our eyes are wide open, as the eyes of long subjugated nations are apt to be. We labor under no delusions, or illusions, in the naked dawn light of our State, and we perceive that for a generation to come, civilization must be in the melting pot. The old security of the strong and the freedom of the mighty are gone. We are all in the same leaky boat, great and small together, and power is not vested in what you call ‘the humanities’ — far from it. Science, not the Arts, ended the war. War, indeed, is a ghost for a moment, but it remains for the men and women of this century to decide if the ghost shall vanish into thin air, or presently grow solid and clothe itself again with bones and flesh. We must, then, accept existing conditions and not indulge in metaphysics. Physics alone offers salvation. Physics alone is stronger than treaties and more trustworthy than the word of living man; because physics means power.”
“You are a sad materialist, Mr. Strossmayer,” said Merrivale Medland.
But the other shook his head.
“The world is still under the tyranny of shibboleths,” he answered, “and until our values can be stated in words, to be spoken and understood universally, there must lie a gulf of misunderstanding between the nations. No panacea will bridge this gulf, for diversity of languages must forever keep it open. Babel meant a deeper and more spiritual curse on progress than the most malignant interposition of the Devil. But let us turn to those languages that all speak with one tongue and understand with one heart, my friends. In the Arts, music is such an universal language; and chemistry in the Sciences. The men of Science labor under no such crushing disadvantage as our politicians, for in their search for truth, they recognize the hindrance of tongues and substitute symbols beyond possibility of two constructions. In Science, Jew and Gentile, East and West, Latin and Scandinavian, meet as upon sure ground.”
He turned to Medland with his rather fascinating, sly smile.
“I am not a ‘sad materialist,’ but a convinced one — a joyous one — monsieur, though the word illustrates my argument very happily. Do you and I mean the same thing when we speak of ‘materialism’? Assuredly not. If we all in this room set down on paper our understanding of that word’s significance, would our definitions agree? Not two of them!
“Our purpose in Jugo-Slavia,” he continued, “is simple and direct. We look ahead; we are aware that radio-activity is but the momentous discovery of yesterday; but we believe that, in the arcana of nature, exist forces beyond the dreams of mankind, and we are out, at this early stage in our corporate history, to discover and corner those forces if we can do so.”
“‘Corner’ is a sinister word,” said Jack Smith.
The other flinched a little.
“Hear me further,” he replied. “How to discover and secure the unknown? Only by taking a line of action which, as yet, seems wholly foreign to the genius of the existing Great Powers. Not, of course, that all nations save your own, gentlemen, are not already busy on the great quest — they are; but success cannot be promised, because the seeker belongs to France, or England, Italy or the United States. It will probably come by chance, and in this tremendous hunt, the humblest of kingdoms — my own, is as likely to achieve success as the greatest. Indeed, more likely, for we are far more keenly alive to its significance and its possibilities than old empires, which have long known power and are, therefore, tempted to think on the old, conservative lines of what constituted power in the past.”
General Fordyce regarded the speaker somewhat blankly.
“So that’s what you little nations are after?” he asked.
“Why not, General? The little, new peoples acutely perceive their precarious foothold among the great, old peoples. They judge that, if the world is to be remoulded along the old lines and the promises of peace made illusory, their liberty and independence are worthless words. We, at any rate, believe that the next war — if next there be — and nothing in the existing situation rules out the probability — we hold that the next war will not be one of numbers, but radio-activity; and realize that, upon such a basis, we have as good a chance as che might of the Old World, or the New. Consider one man: Hugo Stinnes, the German millionaire, at present engaged in getting a strangle-hold on half the basic industries of the Continent. Suppose a chemist came to such a man and suggested that he might be upon the track of something more powerful than basic industries? Would Stinnes send the scientist about his business, as you sent those who first advocated the ‘tank’ in war? No; if a hundred young men approached him, he would find opportunity and encouragement for them all, because he would argue that, though ninety-nine were likely to fail, the hundredth might do the trick — win the paramount secret. That is the spirit which inspires all men and nations with foresight. Each hopes to be first — but England. Your country, glorious though she continues to be, has never possessed foresight. It is no part of your national endowment.”
“You go too far, sir,” said Medland somewhat warmly.
The Jugo-Slav bowed.
“I shall apologize if I am wrong,” he answered. “But consider recent facts. None knows better than I in my present inquiries what encouragement original research receives here. I have heard it on a hundred tongues, gentle
men. Your men of science won the war: there is not a shadow of doubt about that. And you patted them on the back and gave the more fortunate trifling money presents and O.B.E.’s — and forgot them. The great rewards went to commanders on land and sea, not those who enabled them to win their victories. And now you have forgotten your scientists and, until you want them again, you will continue to forget them. But next time you will need mightier things than tanks, or Zeppelin destroyers, trinitrotoluene, or mustard gas.
“In the face of the hatred of the nations, we cannot rule out war. Germany hates the Poles, as all men hate those they have wronged; China hates Japan, as all men hate those who have wronged them. Hatred and distrust are rife, and the great peace did not lessen them by one smothered curse. We were on the high road to success, but the human ingredient intervened and reason went down. How, you ask? How was the opportunity lost? By America. President Wilson was the first great statesman who ever came to a world conference without one spark of racial prejudice. Infinitely much might have been hoped from that. But alas! he was ‘all too human’; his noble ideals were vitiated by a parochial perspective, lack of experience in world politics, and a certain professorial vanity, which tried to do single-handed a work demanding all the strong hands and big hearts in America. The united brain of the United States! That must have solved the problem. That cold, clear brain, unvitiated by racial hatreds and distrust, had lifted the whole complex into the upper air. But it was never permitted to try. Wilson played a lone hand and it failed — as lone hands are apt to do. Since then America, seeing her failure, has righted it and, with a superb gesture and inspired by pure reason, has taken the Old World’s hand again and set her feet on surer ground.”
I perceived a growing dislike for Herr Strossmayer in the eyes of several among his listeners. A few were at no trouble to conceal it.
“And what does this veiled attack on our system amount to?” inquired Sir Bruce. “What, if it were not an impertinent question, do you seek in England for Jugo-Slavia, monsieur?”
He spoke suavely, but I knew that aversion from the stranger lay behind the question. The old Indian was deeply interested, however, and did not conceal the fact.
“The difficulty of a leader,” answered Strossmayer, “is to find the brains of his nation and win them to himself, first by trust and then by enthusiasm. I am not a leader of men, but even in my quest, trust and enthusiasm are the vital need. I am in fact a tradesman, seeking to do a ‘deal’ in chemists. We regard young men of promise in the laboratory as potential gold mines, and since your chemistry in this country, despite the handicaps under which research labors, is still the finest and subtlest in the world, I come first to you. England has led the van a thousand times, and if you let your discoveries — synthetic dyes, for example — slip through your fingers, that is not to condemn the discoveries — only the greedy idiots who sold one of the most precious possessions in the world for immediate gain. I want your young, brilliant chemists — your men of single soul and pure ambition — who pass their examinations and attain honors, only to find themselves unhonored for ever afterwards. I come to seek these men, who have left the retort and spectroscope behind and know the significance of the electroscope and spinthariscope — the men who may turn romance into reality and find the philosopher’s stone in this our time.”
“You will seek far,” said General Fordyce. “We are a practical people.”
“You believe so,” answered the newcomer. “But you are mistaken in that self-estimate. Your genius is handicapped by your muddled thinking at every turn. A less practical or imaginative people never existed. And yet your absurd lack of imagination has enabled you to do deeds that beggar the imagination! I do not belittle your greatness for a moment, General. As to the chemists, they are here. As a radio-chemist myself, though without genius, I know enough to understand, and I find material waiting for me. Yes, the men are here, and the adequate rewards and inducements are in Jugo-Slavia.”
“You would buy our devotion for your State?” I asked.
“Exactly. I say, ‘Come and throw in your luck with us, my young friends. You will be in clover, because we understand your importance and know the prizes are gigantic, though few. Come and do your best; and whether you can help us, or fail to do so, you will be respected, honored, rewarded and put beyond the reach of anxiety while your unproductive work proceeds. We trust you, as ministers of Science, to pay faithful service in her courts; and if it is granted to you to do great things for Jugo-Slavia — well; but if you fail, then your failure and disappointment will be all you have to suffer. Your future in any case is assured. You are servants of the new State, responsible to none but your peers. You will receive handsome emolument and generous consideration, on the sole understanding that your brains are dedicated to your adopted country.’”
“You would tempt away our youthful geniuses?” asked Medland.
“Why put it so? If you do not want them, we do. Be sure that none will come to us from England, or anywhere else, if his native land offers him, or her, sufficient inducement to remain.”
“Have you made a start, Mr. Strossmayer?” inquired Leon Jacobs.
“An excellent start,” he answered. “I have found three first rate men, three second rate men, but of a useful stamp, and one super-man — a young fellow worth ten thousand a year to any nation on earth.”
“You are frank,” declared Jack Smith.
“I can afford to be,” answered the Jugo-Slav. “These men know the best they may hope from their own country; they are aware of the prizes that you offer; they know that if they enjoy phenomenal success and get appointed to great institutions, or even Departments of State, their future work will not be to their liking. Salaries and pensions carry small weight where there is a touch of genius. The big men want to do their own work; but once harnessed and shackled by the Government, their own work is the last thing they will ever have any more time or opportuniy to do. When a great man reaches such resounding renown that your official world hears his name, he is appointed where he belongs, and henceforth his precious time, which ought to be worth thousands an hour, and might be worth millions, is devoted — to what? To the work by which he attained fame? To the slow, patient research which is helping the sum of human knowledge and potential prosperity? Far from it. He has become a Government official, and henceforth routine and red-tape eat him alive. He does the mean tasks of a shopkeeper, runs his department as cheaply as possible, is heckled over wages, fettered with accounts — the price of raw material, the problems of labor, the wages of charwomen, the cost of coke. Every stupid thing he has to do but the thing he alone can do and ought alone to be doing. That’s England’s way with her men of science; and so we find more brain power of the highest order wasted here than in any other civilized country on earth.”
Sir Bruce — an old civil servant — was able to confirm this indictment.
“I should like to contradict you if I could,” he said bluntly. “But you are not far wrong. A Government demands results, sublimely indifferent to the causes which produce effects. Scientific research is ignored very grossly here, as elsewhere. Far deeper problems, of a moral nature, arise out of the situation than you guess, however.”
“Very likely,” answered Strossmayer. “But the first thing is to be practical and build up a basis of wealth and prosperity for our naked, new-born Jugo-Slavia. We proceed accordingly and feel no fear for our morals. It should be easy for a prosperous and educated people to be moral; not so easy for a hungry and illiterate nation.”
He rattled on with sublime confidence in his ideals and then, looking at his watch, rose, made a very charming and comprehensive bow and left us.
The impressions he created were, upon the whole, unfavorable, and I think only Jacobs and myself were in any sort attracted by the man.
We recognized an agile mind, abundant enthusiasm, and a personality unfamiliar and beyond our experience. But with that none quarreled. It was the stranger’s ironical attitud
e toward our country that annoyed most of us.
“To suggest that his semi-barbaric nation is wiser than we are, and proposes to take a saner course, can only be called offensive nonsense,” declared General Fordyce.
“These astute foreigners have all got a bad streak,” added Merrivale Medland. “I meet them in Spain and Portugal every year, and I know their little ways. I don’t say he’s a wrong ‘un; but I’m not frightened, and I’m certainly not going to be down-hearted because Jugo-Slavia, or any other little rubbish heap, offers well paid work to our young men who specialize in ‘Stinks.’”
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