Blood and Iron

quaking under foot, that one must tr

ervening rabble; but our tyrant is strong enough, in the end, to win foreign wars, and then the haters veer about, almost in a night, come up on bended knees

ap in 1815, you will see that the frontiers trace in a startling way the scowling ou

years; and a new Frederick in spirit is rapidly lea

ounded of the intrigues, blood and passions of Austria, R

hs, half-truths, shuffling, cutting and stacking; you go confusedly from palace to people, prince to pauper, university

flashes of lightning-as you try to

in the National archives, one fills soon enough a ten-volume account-with a swamp

cessible if we get at his inner

row-beaten; a man who would for 40 years follow a plan by no means clear; often had to

but on the whole Otto's attitude was that of the mountain that defies the storm. He would never give in that, as it seemed to onlookers, a shaft of disagreeable truth had struck ho

actly what he desired. It was of course only an adroit explanation to protect his pride; the braze

time Bismarck's soul was tried b