There, Below Me, Where The Lane Began To Fall, Was The First Of The
German Cities.
LECTOR. How 'German'?
AUCTOR. Let me explain. There is a race that stretches vaguely,
without defined boundaries, from the Baltic into the high hills of the
south. I will not include the Scandinavians among them, for the
Scandinavians (from whom we English also in part descend) are
long-headed, lean, and fierce, with a light of adventure in their pale
eyes. But beneath them, I say, there stretches from the Baltic to the
high hills a race which has a curious unity. Yes; I know that great
patches of it are Catholic, and that other great patches hold varying
philosophies; I know also that within them are counted long-headed and
round-headed men, dark and fair, violent and silent; I know also that
they have continually fought among themselves and called in Welch
allies; still I go somewhat by the language, for I am concerned here
with the development of a modern European people, and I say that the
Germans run from the high hills to the northern sea. In all of them
you find (it is not race, it is something much more than race, it is
the type of culture) a dreaminess and a love of ease. In all of them
you find music. They are those Germans whose countries I had seen a
long way off, from the Ballon d'Alsace, and whose language and
traditions I now first touched in the town that stood before me.
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