In January 1949, Thomas Mann wrote to a correspondent: “I must acknowledge the arrival of your book on Kleist and assure you of my earnest attention to it. Of loving attention I cannot speak, since much about this writer, even in your incisive study, strikes me as really dreadful; and, after reading it, I find I can warm to his genius less than ever… In the Hermannsschlacht…one can see what a hysterical—Goethe said hypochondriacal—spirit he was on the whole, and one recoils in horror.”

The relationship of the lay community to clerical institutions during the Middle Ages and especially in the pre–Reformation Era has long been a subject of methodical investigation. It has, however, proven extremely difficult to gain reliable evidence regarding subjective attitudes towards the clergy. Once the basic literary sources have been culled, further elucidation of the development of attitudes on the part of the majority of the people tends to become vague and hesitant or to rely on post hoc explanations. In this brief study, I have experimented with a statistical approach to the problem by tabulating the records of donations to three church institutions of the Lahngau in order to be able to trace, if at all possible, the evolution of attitudes which they reflect. I have, furthermore, attempted to test the hypothesis that the subjective attitudes of a social class towards a church institution are partially conditioned by the effective power exercised on the institution in question at the local level by the donor group.

The responsibility for the outbreak of World War I weighed heavily upon Imperial Germany's fifth Chancellor, Theobald von Bethmann Hollweg. “This war torments me,” he confessed to the Liberal Conrad Haussmann during the struggle. “Again and again I ask if it could have been avoided and what I should have done differently.” This soul searching led Bethmann to believe that “all nations are guilty; Germany, too, bears a large part of the blame.” Arguing that “our fate is too colossal to have its origins in singular events,” the Chancellor stressed the larger causes of the conflict. Imperialist rivalry, the anti-German coalition, the growing isolation of Berlin, and Vienna's relative decline, “all that forced us to adopt a policy of utmost risk, a risk that increased with each repetition, in the Moroccan quarrel, in the Bosnian crisis, and then again in the Moroccan question.” But he also admitted candidly: “Lord yes, in a certain sense it was a preventive war,” motivated by “the constant threat of attack, the greater likelihood of its inevitability in the future, and by the military's claim: today war is still possible without defeat, but not in two years! Yes, the generals,” he repeated. “It could only have been avoided by a rapprochement with England, that is still my conviction. But after we had decided for a [common] policy with Austria, we could not desert her in such danger.”