"'Regretting the circumstances in which we meet, I accept your Majesty's sword, and beg that you will be good enough to name an officer furnished with full powers to treat for the capitulation of the army which has fought so bravely under your orders. On my side I have designated General von Moltke for that purpose.'

"General Reille returned to his master, and as he rode down the hill the astounding purport of his visit flew from lip to lip through the exulting army which now hoped that, after this colossal success, the days of ceaseless marching and fighting would soon end. As a contrast to this natural outburst of joy and hope we may note the provident Moltke, who was always resolved to 'mak siker.' His general order, issued at once, suspending hostilities during the night, declared that they would begin again in the morning should the negotiations produce no result. In that case, he said, the signal for battle would be the reopening of fire by the batteries on the heights east of Frenois.

"The signal was not given. Late on the evening of September 1st a momentous session was held in Donchery, the little town which commands a bridge over the Meuse below Sedan. On one side of a square table covered with red baize sat General von Moltke, having on his right hand the quartermaster-general Von Podbielski, according to one account, and Von Blumenthal according to another, and behind them several officers, while Count von Nostitz stood near the hearth to take notes. Opposite to Von Moltke sat De Wimpffen alone; while in rear, 'almost in the shade,' were General Faure, Count Castelnau, and other Frenchmen, among whom was a cuirassier, Captain d'Orcet, who had observant eyes and a retentive memory. Then there ensued a brief silence, for Von Moltke looked straight before him and said nothing, while De Wimpffen, oppressed by the number present, hesitated to engage in a debate 'with the two men admitted to be the most capable of our age, each in his kind.' But he soon plucked up courage, and frankly accepted the conditions of the combat. What terms, he asked, would the king of Prussia grant to a valiant army which, could he have had his will, would have continued to fight? 'They are very simple,' answered Von Moltke. 'The entire army, with arms and baggage, must surrender as prisoners of war.' 'Very hard,' replied the Frenchman. 'We merit better treatment. Could you not be satisfied with the fortress and the artillery, and allow the army to retire with arms, flags and baggage, on condition of serving no more against Germany during the war?' No. 'Moltke,' said Bismarck, recounting the interview, 'coldly persisted in his demand,' or as the attentive d'Orcet puts it, 'Von Moltke was pitiless.' Then De Wimpffen tried to soften his grim adversary by painting his own position. He had just come from the depths of the African desert; he had an irreproachable military reputation; he had taken command in the midst of a battle, and found himself obliged to set his name to a disastrous capitulation. 'Can you not,' he said, 'sympathize with an officer in such a plight, and soften, for me, the bitterness of my situation by granting more honorable conditions?' He painted in moving terms his own sad case, and described what he might have done; but seeing that his personal pleadings were unheeded, he took a tone of defiance, less likely to prevail. 'If you will not give better terms,' he went on, 'I shall appeal to the honor of the army, and break out, or, at least, defend Sedan.' Then the German general struck in with emphasis, 'I regret that I cannot do what you ask,' he said; 'but as to making a sortie, that is just as impossible as the defence of Sedan. You have some excellent troops, but the greater part of your infantry is demoralized. To-day, during the battle, we captured more than twenty thousand unwounded prisoners. You have only eighty thousand men left. My troops and guns around the town would smash yours before they could make a movement; and as to defending Sedan, you have not provisions for eight-and-forty hours, nor ammunition which would suffice for that period.' Then, says De Wimpffen, he entered into details respecting our situation, which, 'unfortunately, were too true,' and he offered to permit an officer to verify his statements, an offer which the Frenchman did not then accept.

"Beaten off the military ground, De Wimpffen sought refuge in politics. 'It is your interest, from a political standpoint, to grant us honorable conditions,' he said. 'France is generous and chivalric, responsive to generosity, and grateful for consideration. A peace, based on conditions which would flatter the amour-propre of the army, and diminish the bitterness of defeat, would be durable; whereas rigorous measures would awaken bad passions, and, perhaps, bring on an endless war between France and Prussia.' The new ground broken called up Bismarck, 'because the matter seemed to belong to my province,' he observed when telling the story; and he was very outspoken as usual. 'I said to him that we might build on the gratitude of a prince, but certainly not on the gratitude of a people—least of all on the gratitude of the French. That in France neither institutions nor circumstances were enduring; that governments and dynasties were constantly changing, and the one need not carry out what the other had bound itself to do. That if the emperor had been firm on his throne, his gratitude for our granting good conditions might have been counted upon; but as things stood it would be folly if we did not make full use of our success. That the French were a nation full of envy and jealousy, that they had been much mortified by our success at Koniggratz, and could not forgive it, though it in nowise damaged them. How, then, should any magnanimity on our side move them not to bear us a grudge for Sedan.' This Wimpffen would not admit. 'France,' he said, 'had much changed latterly; it had learned under the empire to think more of the interests of peace than of the glory of war. France was ready to proclaim the fraternity of nations;' and more of the same kind. Captain d'Orcet reports that, in addition, Bismarck denied that France had changed, and that to curb her mania for glory, to punish her pride, her aggressive and ambitious character, it was imperative that there should be a glacis between France and Germany. 'We must have territory, fortresses and frontiers which will shelter us forever from an attack on her part.' Further remonstrances from De Wimpffen only drew down fresh showers of rough speech very trying to bear, and when Bismarck said, 'We cannot change our conditions,' De Wimpffen exclaimed, 'Very well; it is equally impossible for me to sign such a capitulation, and we shall renew the battle.'

"Here Count Castelnau interposed meekly to say, on behalf of the emperor, that he had surrendered, personally, in the hope that his self-sacrifice would induce the king to grant the army honorable terms. 'Is that all?' Bismarck inquired. 'Yes,' said the Frenchman. 'But what is the sword surrendered,' asked the chancellor; 'is it his own sword, or the sword of France?' 'It is only the sword of the emperor,' was Castelnau's reply. 'Well, there is no use talking about other conditions,' said Von Moltke, sharply, while a look of contentment and gratification passed over his face, according to Bismarck; one 'almost joyful,' writes the keen Captain d'Orcet. 'After the last words of Von Moltke,' he continues, 'De Wimpffen exclaimed, "We shall renew the battle." "The truce," retorted the German general, "expires to-morrow morning at four o'clock. At four, precisely, I shall open fire." We were all standing. After Von Moltke's words no one spoke a syllable. The silence was icy.' But then Bismarck intervened to soothe excited feelings, and called on his soldier- comrade to show, once more, how impossible resistance had become. The group sat down again at the red baize-covered table, and Von Moltke began his demonstration afresh. 'Ah,' said De Wimpffen, 'your positions are not so strong as you would have us believe them to be.' 'You do not know the topography of the country about Sedan,' was Von Moltke's true and crushing answer. 'Here is a bizarre detail which illustrates the presumptuous and inconsequent character of your people,' he went on, now thoroughly aroused. 'When the war began you supplied your officers with maps of Germany at a time when they could not study the geography of their own country for want of French maps. I tell you that our positions are not only very strong, they are inexpugnable.' It was then that De Wimpffen, unable to reply, wished to accept the offer made but not accepted at an earlier period, and to send an officer to verify these assertions. 'You will send nobody,' exclaimed the iron general. 'It is useless, and you can believe my word. Besides, you have not long to reflect. It is now midnight; the truce ends at four o'clock, and I will grant no delay.' Driven to his last ditch, De Wimpffen pleaded that he must consult his fellow- generals, and he could not obtain their opinions by four o'clock. Once more the diplomatic peacemaker intervened, and Von Moltke agreed to fix the final limit at nine. 'He gave way at last,' says Bismarck, 'when I showed him that it could do no harm.' The conference so dramatic broke up, and each one went his way; but, says the German official narrative, 'as it was not doubtful that the hostile army, completely beaten and nearly surrounded, would be obliged to submit to the clauses already indicated, the great headquarter staff was occupied, that very night, in drawing up the text of the capitulation,' a significant and practical comment, showing what stuff there was behind the severe language which, at the midnight meeting, fell from the Chief of that able and sleepless body of chosen men.

"From this conference General de Wimpffen went straight to the wearied emperor, who had gone to bed. But he received his visitor, who told him that the proposed conditions were hard, and that the sole chance of mitigation lay in the efforts of his Majesty. 'General,' said the emperor, 'I shall start at five o'clock for the German headquarters, and I shall see whether the king will be more favorable;' for he seems to have become possessed of an idea that King William would personally treat with him. The emperor kept his word. Believing that he would be permitted to return to Sedan, he drove forth without bidding farewell to any of his troops; but, as the drawbridge of Torcy was lowered and he passed over, the Zouaves on duty shouted 'Vive l'Empereur!' This cry was 'the last adieu which fell on his ears' as we read in the narrative given to the world on his behalf. He drove in a droshki toward Donchery, preceded by General Reille, who, before six o'clock, awoke Bismarck from his slumbers, and warned him that the emperor desired to speak with him. 'I went with him directly,' said Bismarck, in a conversation reported by Busch; 'and got on my horse, all dusty and dirty as I was, in an old cap and my great waterproof boots, to ride to Sedan, where I supposed him to be.' But he met him on the highroad near Frenois, 'sitting in a two-horse carriage.' Beside him was the Prince de la Moskowa, and on horseback Castelnau and Reille. 'I gave the military salute,' says Bismarck. 'He took his cap off and the officers did the same; whereupon I took off mine, although it was contrary to rule. He said, "Couvrez-vous, done." I behaved to him just as if in St. Cloud, and asked his commands.' Naturally, he wanted to see the king, but that could not be allowed. Then Bismarck placed his quarters in Donchery at the emperor's disposal, but he declined the courtesy, and preferred to rest in a house by the wayside. The cottage of a Belgian weaver unexpectedly became famous; a one-storied house, painted yellow, with white shutters and Venetian blinds. He and the chancellor entered the house, and went up to the first floor where there was 'a little room with one window. It was the best in the house, but had only one deal table and two rush-bottomed chairs.' In that lowly abode they talked together of many things for three- quarters of an hour, among others about the origin of the war—which, it seems, neither desired—the emperor asserting, Bismarck reports, that 'he had been driven into it by the pressure of public opinion,' a very inadequate representation of the curious incidents which preceded the fatal decision. But when the emperor began to ask for more favorable terms, he was told that, on a military question, Von Moltke alone could speak. On the other hand, Bismarck's request to know who now had authority to make peace was met by a reference to 'the Government in Paris'; so that no progress was made. Then 'we must stand to our demands with regard to the Army of Sedan,' said Bismarck. General von Moltke was summoned, and 'Napoleon III. demanded that nothing should be decided before he had seen the king, for he hoped to obtain from his Majesty some favorable concessions for the army.' The German official narrative of the war states that the emperor expressed a wish that the army might be permitted to enter Belgium, but that, of course, the chief of the staff could not accept the proposal. General von Moltke forthwith set out for Vendresse, where the king was, to report progress. He met his Majesty on the road, and there 'the king fully approved the proposed conditions of capitulation, and declared that he would not see the emperor until the terms prescribed had been accepted'; a decision which gratified the chancellor as well as the chief of the staff. 'I did not wish them to come together,' observed the count, 'until we had settled the matter of the capitulation'; sparing the feelings of both and leaving the business to the hard military men.

"The emperor lingered about in the garden of the weaver's cottage; he seems to have desired fresh air after his unpleasant talk with the chancellor. Dr. Moritz Busch, who had hurried to the spot, has left a characteristic description of the emperor. He saw there 'a little thick-set man,' wearing jauntily a red cap with a gold border, a black paletot lined with red, red trousers, and white kid gloves. 'The look in his light gray eyes was somewhat soft and dreamy, like that of people who have lived hard. His whole appearance,' says the irreverent Busch, 'was a little unsoldierlike. The man looked too soft, I might say too shabby, for the uniform he wore.' While one scene in the stupendous drama was performed at the weaver's cottage, another was acted or endured in Sedan, where De Wimpffen had summoned the generals to consider the terms of capitulation. He has given his own account of the incident; but the fullest report is supplied by Lebrun. There were present at this council of war more than thirty generals. With tearful eyes and a voice broken by sobs, the unhappy and most ill-starred De Wimpffen described his interview and conflict with Von Moltke and Bismarck, and its dire result—the army to surrender as prisoners of war, the officers alone to retain their arms, and by way of mitigating the rigor of these conditions, full permission to return home would be given to any officer, provided he would engage in writing and on honor not to serve again during the war. The generals, save one or two, and these finally acquiesced, felt that the conditions could not be refused; but they were indignant at the clause suggesting that the officers might escape the captivity which would befall their soldiers, provided they would engage to become mere spectators of the invasion of their country. In the midst of these mournful deliberations Captain von Zingler, a messenger from Von Moltke, entered, and the scene became still more exciting. 'I am instructed,' he said, 'to remind you how urgent it is that you should come to a decision. At ten o'clock, precisely, if you have not come to a resolution, the German batteries will fire on Sedan. It is now nine, and I shall have barely time to carry your answer to headquarters.' To this sharp summons De Wimpffen answered that he could not decide until he knew the result of the interview between the emperor and the king.' 'That interview,' said the stern captain, 'will not in any way affect the military operations, which can only he determined by the generals who have full power to resume or stop the strife.' It was, indeed, as Lebrun remarked, useless to argue with a captain charged to state a fact; and at the general's suggestion De Wimpffen agreed to accompany Captain von Zingler to the German headquarters.

"These were, for the occasion, the Chateau de Bellevue, where the emperor himself had been induced to take up his abode, and about eleven o'clock, in a room under the imperial chamber, De Wimpffen put his name at the foot of the document drawn up, during the night, by the German staff. Then he sought out the emperor, and, greatly moved, told him that 'all was finished.' His majesty, he writes, 'with tears in his eyes, approached me, pressed my hand, and embraced me,' and 'my sad and painful duty having been accomplished, I remounted my horse and road back to Sedan, '"la mort dans l'ame."'

"So soon as the convention was signed, the king arrived, accompanied by the crown prince. Three years before, as the emperor reminds us in the writing attributed to him, the king had been his guest in Paris, where all the sovereigns of Europe had come to behold the marvels of the famous Exhibition. 'Now,' so runs the lamentation, 'betrayed by fortune, Napoleon III. had lost all, and had placed in the hands of his conqueror the sole thing left him—his liberty.' And he goes on to say, in general terms, that the king deeply sympathized with his misfortunes, but nevertheless could not grant better conditions to the army. 'He told the emperor that the castle of Wilhelmshohe had been selected as his residence; the crown prince then entered and cordially shook hands with Napoleon; and at the end of a quarter of an hour the king withdrew. The emperor was permitted to send a telegram in cipher to the empress, to tell her what had happened, and urge her to negotiate a peace.' Such is the bald record of this impressive event. The telegram, which reached the empress at four o'clock on the afternoon of the 3d, was in these words: 'The army is defeated and captive; I myself am a prisoner.'

"For one day more the fallen sovereign rested at Bellevue to meditate on the caprices of fortune or the decrees of fate. But that day, at the head of a splendid company of princes and generals, King William, crossing the bridge of Donchery, rode throughout the whole vast extent of the German lines, to greet his hardy warriors and be greeted by them on the very scene of their victories. And well they deserved regal gratitude, for together with their comrades who surrounded Metz, by dint of long swift marches and steadfast valor, they had overcome two great armies in thirty days.

"During the battle of Sedan, the Germans lost in killed and wounded 8,924 officers and men. On the other hand, the French lost 3,000 killed, 14,000 wounded, and 21,000 captured in the battle. The number of prisoners by capitulation was 83,000, while 3,000 were disarmed in Belgium, and a few hundreds, more or less, made their way by devious routes near and over the frontier, to Mezieres, Rocroi, and other places in France. In addition, were taken one eagle and two flags, 419 field guns and mitrailleuses, 139 garrison guns, many wagons, muskets, and horses. On the day after the surrender, the French soldiers, having stacked their arms in Sedan, marched into the peninsula formed by the deep loop of the Meuse—'le Camp de Misere' as they called it—and were sent thence in successive batches, numbered by thousands, to Germany. Such was the astonishing end of the Army of Chalons, which had been impelled to its woful doom by the Comte de Palikao and the Paris politicians."

Here closes the first and most dramatic phase of the war. Thereafter the enemy was smitten hip and thigh. At once hurry orders were given to open the line which led from Nancy to Paris. What followed must be briefly told.

On the 5th of September the king of Prussia entered Rheims. On the 8th Laon surrendered. On the 15th advanced troops halted within three hours of the capital of France, making a half circle round its defences. This investment Ducrot—who had escaped from Sedan— attempted to prevent. His resources consisted in the Thirteenth Corps under General Vinoy, and the Fourteenth under General Renault, and 18,000 marines, excellent soldiers, a total of 88,000 regular troops. He had also in the camps of Vincennes and St. Maur 100,000 Garde-Mobiles, only very imperfectly disciplined; 10,000 volunteers from the provinces, resolute men, prepared to give their lives for their country; the National Guard, composed of sixty old and a hundred and ninety-four new battalions which, with other miscellaneous volunteers of Paris, numbered perhaps 200,000 men, not, however, thoroughly to be depended upon. Altogether the defenders numbered about 400,000, but of these only the 88,000 regular troops and the 10,000 volunteers from the provinces could be reckoned as trustworthy.

Nevertheless, the Third German Army had no difficulty in establishing itself in a position embracing the southern and southeastern front of the city, from Sevres to the Marne; the Fourth Army faced the northeast and northern front, the cavalry the west front, so far as the windings of the Seine would permit it. On the 5th of October the crown prince took up his headquarters at Versailles, those of the king being at Ferrieres, the seat of the Paris Rothschilds. Here took place, on the 19th October, the famous interview between the French foreign minister, Jules Favre, and Bismarck, in which the former made his declaration that France would surrender neither one inch of her territories nor one stone of her fortresses. The interview remained without result.

Meanwhile the fortress of Toul had surrendered. Strasburg, after a siege of six weeks, also surrendered, and, on October 27, Bazaine handed over Metz and an army consisting of three marshals of France, 6,000 officers, and 173,000 soldiers—an act for which after the conclusion of the war he was court-martialled, declared guilty of treason, and sentenced to death and degradation. The then president of the republic, Marshal MacMahon, commuted the death sentence into one of imprisonment for twenty years. Confined in the fort of the island St. Marguerite, near Cannes, Bazaine escaped, and lived in Spain till his death.

Bazaine's surrender made the Germans masters of one of the strongest fortresses in Europe, with 800 heavy guns, 102 mitrailleuses, 300,000 Chassepots, and placed at the disposal of the king an entire blockading army.

It was at this juncture that Gambetta astonished the world. Reaching Tours in a balloon from Paris, and there assuming the ministry of war, he became practically dictator of France. Thence he issued a proclamation to the people of France, urging them to continue their resistance to the bitter end, and directed that all men, capable of bearing arms, should lend their hands to the work, and should join the troops of the line at Tours. In this way he formed an Army of the North, and an Army of the Loire, and, later, an Army of the East. In all respects he displayed a fertility of resource which astounded. He obtained arms, uniforms, munitions, and other necessaries from foreign countries, especially from England. He bestowed the greatest pains in selecting as generals of the new levies men who should be real soldiers. Under his inspiring influence the war in the provinces assumed a very serious complexion. France had responded nobly to the call he had made upon her people. Early reverses gave vigor to the new levies, and they fought with energy against the Bavarians under Von der Than at Arthenay and Orleans, and against the division of Wittich at Chateaudun and Chartres. But they were fighting against increasing odds. Every day brought reinforcements to the Germans.

With the exception of a momentary gleam of success on the Loire, France met with nothing but disaster. In Paris matters were critical. Every one of the different sorties made by her defenders had been repulsed; the hope by which the spirits of her defenders had been buoyed was vanishing fast: famine was approaching with giant strides; the strong places outside the circle of her defences were falling one after another; the fire of the enemy was, by the nearer approach of their troops, becoming more concentrated and more severe. Peace must be had. On January 28th, then, there was concluded at Versailles an armistice for three weeks. Then a national assembly was summoned to Bordeaux to consider how peace might be restored. In that assembly Thiers received full administrative powers, including the power of nominating his own ministers. He himself, with Jules Favre, undertook the negotiations with Bismarck. To insure the success of those negotiations the armistice was twice prolonged. This was done at the instance of Thiers, for the conditions insisted upon by Bismarck were hard, and the French statesman struggled with all his energies to induce him to abate his demands. Especially did he strive to save Metz, or, at least, to receive Luxemburg in compensation.

But his endeavors were fruitless. The utmost that Bismarck would do was not to insist upon securing the still unconquered Belfort. Despairing of moving him further, Thiers and Favre gave way on the 24th of February, and signed the preliminaries of peace. They were, first, the transfer to Germany of the northeast portion of Lorraine, with Metz and Diedenhofen, and of Alsace, Belfort excepted; second, the payment to Germany by France of one milliard of francs in 1871, and four milliards in the three years following; third, the Germans to begin to evacuate French territory immediately after the ratification of the treaty; Paris and its forts on the left bank of the Seine and certain departments at once; the forts on the right bank after the ratification and the payment of the first half milliard. After the payment of two milliards the German occupation of the departments Marne, Ardennes, Upper Marne, Meuae, the Vosges, and Meurthe, and the fortress of Belfort should cease. Interest at five per cent to be charged on the milliards remaining unpaid from the date of ratification; fourth, the German troops remaining in France to make no requisitions on the departments in which they were located, but to be fed at the cost of France; fifth, the inhabitants of the sequestered provinces to be allowed a certain fixed time in which to make their choice between the two countries; sixth, all prisoners to be at once restored; seventh, a treaty embodying all these terms to be settled at Brussels. It was further arranged that the German army should not occupy Paris, but should content itself with marching through the city.

Meanwhile, negotiations between the statesmen and governments of Germany resulted in a proposal to King William that, as head of the confederation, he should assume the title of German emperor. A resolution to that effect was passed by the North German Reichstag on the 9th of December, and a deputation proceeded to the royal headquarters at Versailles, where, on the 18th of December, the imperial crown was offered to the brother of the king who had once refused it. Deeply touched, King William accepted, and in the palace of Louis XIV., surrounded by a brilliant assembly of princes, officers, and ministers of state, the venerable monarch was proclaimed Deutscher Kaiser.

Then at last was the dream of centuries realized. At last was the empire restored. Not the Holy Roman Empire, not the empire of the Middle Ages, but the empire as a national state.

Under the leadership of Bismarck, to whom the restoration of the empire was directly due, the new Reich began its organization as a united federation. Among its earliest difficulties was an ecclesiastical contest with the Church of Rome. Known as the Kulturkampf, this struggle was an effort to vindicate the right of the state to interfere in the affairs of all German religious societies. Another difficulty which demanded government interference was the Judenhetze, or persecution of the Jews, which reached a climax in 1881. A further difficulty was encountered in the quick growth of socialism. Two attempts on the life of the kaiser were attributed to it, and a plot being discovered, which had for object the elimination of the emperor and other German rulers, repressive measures resulted. Meanwhile an alliance offensive and defensive between Germany and Austria had been formed, into which Italy subsequently entered.

On March 9, 1888, the Emperor William I. died. His son, Frederick, at that time suffering from a cancerous affection of the throat, became kaiser. Three months later he also died, and William II. succeeded him.

The latter's first step of any importance was to get in front of half a million bayonets. Coincidently he declared that those bayonets and he—or rather he and those bayonets—were born for one another. Incidentally he announced that he was a monarch, specially conceived, specially created, specially ordained by the Almighty.

The step and the remarks were tantamount to a call to quarters. It would be dramatic to state that the circumjacent territories trembled, but it is exact to affirm that there was a war scare at once, one which by no means diminished when a little later he showed Bismarck the door.

As already noted, the refounding of the empire was Bismarck's work. To achieve his purpose he had—to again quote Colonel Malleson—defied parliaments and people. He had led his master and his country over abysses, in the traversing of which one false step would have been fatal. Aided a great deal by the wretched diplomacy of Austria, by the deterioration of the powers of the French emperor, and by his sublime audacity, he had compelled to his will all the moral difficulties of the undertaking. Von Boon and Moltke had done the rest. No longer, however, was he allowed to put forth his hand to sustain the work which he had created. For him it had been better to die, like Von Boon, like Moltke, keeping to the end the confidence of his sovereign, than to feel himself impelled, dismissed from office, to pour out his grievances to every passing listener, to speak in terms not far removed from treason of the sovereign who had declined to be his pupil. Was it for this, he must have muttered, that I forced on the war which gave Prussia Schleswig and Holstein in 1864; that I compelled unwilling Austria to declare war in 1866; that, by the freest circulation of exaggerated statements, I roused a bitter feeling in Germany against France, and excited the statesmen, and, above all, the mob, of Paris in 1870?—for this, that, the work accomplished, an empire given to the Hohenzollerns, I might be cast aside like a squeezed-out orange? Well might these be his thoughts, for it was he who made possible the task of German unity, though in a manner which will commend itself only to those who argue that the end justifies the means.

A journalist wrote a pamphlet on the subject. In it he compared the kaiser to Caligula. For his pains he was sent to jail. He might better have been sent to school. Caligula was a poet in love with the moon. The kaiser is a poseur in love with himself. One of Caligula's many diversions was killing his people. Such slaughter as the kaiser has effected consists in twenty-five thousand head of game. The career of Caligula is horrible, yet in the horrible is sometimes the sublime. The career of the kaiser has been theatrical, and in the theatrical is always the absurd. The single parallel between the two lies in the fact that all young emperors stand on a peak so lofty that, do they look below, vertigo rises, while from above delirium comes. There is nothing astonishing in that. It would be astonishing were it otherwise. What does astonish is the equilibrium which the kaiser, in spite of his words, his threats and actions, has managed to maintain. Regarded as a firebrand and a menace to the peace of Europe, with the exception of two big blunders—an invitation to King Humbert to promenade with him through Strasburg, and the message which he sent to President Kruger of the Transvaal after the failure of the Jameson raid—with these exceptions he has exhibited a regard for international etiquette entirely immaculate, and not always returned.

In recompense for overtures to France he has been snubbed. In recompense for others to Russia he has been ignored. Neither Austria nor Italy love him. He has weakened the Triple Alliance, alienated England, and lost his place. When he ascended the throne Germany's position on the continent was preponderant. That position is Russia's to-day.

Had he had the power—which he has always denied—to return to France the keys of Metz and Strasburg, and had he had the ability—which others have denied for him—to coalesce with France and Russia he would have been warlord indeed. As it is, failing in an effort to realize the dream of Napoleon I., he has at present writing subsided into a martinet.

What the future holds for Germany and for him the future will tell. But into the future it is not given to any one, even to an emperor, to look.

[Footnote 1: G. B. Malleson: The Refounding of the German Empire.]

[Footnote 2: The house is called "A la derniere Cartouche," and is the subject of De Neuville's splendid painting.]

[Footnote 3: "Not having been able to die in the midst of my troops, nothing remains for me but to place my sword in the hands of your Majesty."]

THE END