Czar Alexander died. That is not the case. Before his fatal illness was heard of a gradual process of change, growth, decay, had told upon the whole scheme of things political in Europe. Already it seemed clear to the great ones who manage the affairs of nations that a good deal of readjustment was needed. For years the balance had been kept by an acknowledged Triple Alliance on the one side, and on the other by a natural informal union of French and Russian interests. Both understandings were seriously meant to maintain peace and yet to repel aggression; and for a long time each alliance was content enough with the position of affairs. The members of the Triple Alliance, severally menaced by the animosity of Russia, or France, or both, were perfectly safe in a defensive combination, and were satisfied to be let alone. For their part, the two other Powers wanted time to complete their strength; though they were already so strong that their enemies could hardly venture to wage on them a war of anticipation, even supposing such an enterprise permitted by the terms of the compact between Germany, Austria, and Italy. Therefore all went well upon the surface of things-upon the surface of things, and for a time.

But even then the shiftings and changes which are so commonly supposed to date from the death of the Czar Alexander were in full course of preparation. They are talked of as surprises; they are, in fact, developments, which Alexander the Third saw in flower some time before he died; indeed, most of them were foretold as long ago as the melancholy month when the Emperor of Germany came to the throne which he coveted a little too much. Four things explain the whole of these developments: (1) A radical weakness in the Triple Alliance which was not likely to lessen as years went by; (2) a radical superiority in France and Russia alike (I mean by that a deeper fund of military resource), which told to their very great advantage with every year of peace and preparation; (3) the idiosyncrasies of the young German Emperor; and (4), the wisdom which has somehow decided that Britain cannot form alliances, as Russians, Germans, Italians, and other foreigners do.

The weakness of the Triple Alliance was the weakness of Italian finance, the enormous burden of its armaments, and the fact that many Italians doubted the policy of a declared hand-and-glove union with Germany and Austria. It is true that the risks of the Alliance were covered by an understanding with England; but that was only the

conditional engagement of one minister, which another might possibly terminate. Possibility, however, is not likelihood. The financial strain upon the Italian people, the fact that the Alliance was never popular, and the certainty that the burdens it imposed would become heavier year by year—this is what made the Italian link in the Triple Alliance very weak indeed. If the calculation of France and Russia was that by the time those countries came to their full equipment the Italians would have had about enough of the Triple Alliance, it was a reasonable one. We may even say that it was justified. The naval demonstrations at Cronstadt marked the hour when France and Russia felt secure enough to be defiant; and from that time forth, certainly from the time of the Toulon festivities and the discovery of the vast naval preparations of France, there has been no enjoyment of the Triple Alliance in Italy.

But not on these accounts alone. The whole history of the last six years has been greatly disturbed by what we have called the idiosyncrasies of the German Emperor. They and their developments and consequences have had a deep effect upon the relations of other countries with his own and with each other. He began badly. His round of visits to the Russian, the Austrian, and the Italian Courts, at the very commencement of his reign, established everywhere a strong feeling of distrust. In Russia they smiled, in Austria and Italy they quaked rather in presence of this young man, with his restless energy, his boundless self-confidence, his obvious belief in himself as a special provision for regulating the higher affairs of Europe. It was feared at once that once that though he might be a danger to his enemies, greater was the likelihood that he would be dangerous to his allies. That he was capable of blundering badly as uncontrolled master of a great military empire was only part of the uneasiness which he then inspired. His allies had to remember that they also were concerned in the management of this fire-new empire itself; and immediately upon his accession the Emperor convinced every observer of his character and conduct that he meant to be Director-Absolute in every department of State.

Largely dependent upon the stability of the German empire, this prospect troubled the Emperor's allies a good deal. They were well aware that Berlin is not Germany, and that the Germans are not all Prussians. Many are of other tribes, and born without love or reverence for the Prussian Boot; besides, they have kings and princes

of their own. Prince Bismarck himself had revealed a doubt as to whether all the Germanic States rejoiced in the preponderance of Prussia. In this condition of things there was no knowing how much of the great Chancellor's work might be undone, with supreme authority in the hands of a young man so offensively masterful and so doubtfully wise. Therefore it was impossible but that his allies should take alarm; and this alarm, often revived and rarely laid long to rest, never ceased from the first moment to weaken the Triple Alliance. It is true that if the German Emperor hankers for military glory he has suppressed a very tempting ambition; and so far the misgiving which he scattered in every Court in Europe remains unwarranted. But the other apprehension has been justified again and again. No one who compares the Germany of to-day with the Germany of seven years since can doubt that great changes have been working there for the worse. While unfriendly France and grudging Russia have risen to comparable rank with Germany as military powers, the constituents of that empire are less content and even less united. Its greatest need when the present Emperor came into his dignities was consolidation under its imperial overlord. Its imperial overlord has loosened the bonds of unity rather than tightened them. While the people question and criticise in a manner to their overlord amazing, even the princes murmur, which is a comparatively new and most significant thing.

Not so new, however, but that his Majesty saw reason some time ago to attempt an entire reconstruction of his foreign relations; for it was these, and more particularly his dismal relations with Russia, which gave most uneasiness to many Prussians and to all South Germany. Their dissatisfaction on this point added to his own alarm no doubt; and months before the late Czar's illness became known (which was in October) the German Emperor took up a new course in foreign affairs. By the weakness of Italy, by the unarrested decline of Austria, by the effect of the Emperor's mismanagement on both, and by the effect on all three of a declared rapprochement between Russia and France, the Triple Alliance became enfeebled to the point of untrustworthiness; and now its predominant partner prepared to put an end to it by substitution. Writing in August last, I could say then- but of course with very little hope of being In an article on "The New Drift in Foreign Affairs," written for the September number of the Contemporary Review.

credited that everything that gave life to an alliance upon which we English rested our security had disappeared. Weary of the hope that England would join and so invigorate the compact by which she profited so much, and afraid, perhaps, that the longing of the German people for a good understanding with Russia might take a menacing turn, the German Emperor went loose from the old alliance in hope of making another and a different one. With less or more of wisdom and address, he expressed his desire for a change of partnership in every possible way; by courting France, by assiduous delicate making-up to Russia, and (at the same time, of course) by an extreme offishness of attitude to England, and even by more of positive oppugnancy than the newspapers have chronicled.

Here ends a narrative of facts essential to a right understanding of the new drift in foreign affairs. It will now be seen that whatever readjustments of international policy or partnership may follow upon the death of "the Emperor Pacificator," they do not spring from that event exactly, but were prepared by the decay of other guarantees of peace; and it touches the credit of English statesmanship that this should be thoroughly well-known and understood.

That the Prince of Wales played the part of diplomatist direct at St. Petersburg may be true or false without being a matter of very great importance. But it appears from the newspaper accounts, and it seems to be generally imagined, that the Prince took with him a new scheme of British foreign policy devised in England without any special need or provocation; and that is a very important matter indeed. For, on the supposition that the Triple Alliance stands where it did, what would such conduct mean? It would mean that after sheltering England for years under a peace-league which we never contributed a guinea or a gun to support, we seize a sudden opportunity of sailing over to the other side. Surely it is obvious that, in the case assumed, we should be under the strongest obligations of honour to make no such move as the Prince of Wales is thoughtlessly supposed to have furthered.

But the whole aspect of the matter changes when we understand that the Triple League had lost all effective existence before the Czar Pacificator came in sight of the grave-that every member of it was already on the lookout for easier and more friendly means of dealing with the opposite camp. Being under no obligations to us-having, on the contrary, a grievance against us for refusing to come into the

alliance and save it from foundering-this they were quite at liberty to do. Unless there was more between our own and the German Government than has ever been heard of, no accusation of disloyalty can be raised against the Emperor if he did aim at an understanding with Russia and France that would put us beyond the pale. It could be done without blame, in the existing state of things it might almost be regarded as a necessary stroke of policy, and beyond doubt its accomplishment would throw all Germany into rapturous delight. But of course such an aim would mean an enormous danger for England. Equally of course its discovery would release us from every obligation to the alliance, and, plainly, it would become the duty of the English Government to step in with instant measures of prevention.

Should the reader now surmise that this was the actual state of affairs in the summer of this year, I don't think he would go far wrong. He will remember the courting of France by billets-doux from Berlin; he will recall some much-talked-of sweeteners of intercourse between the same capital and the Russian Government; and he may depend upon it that the aim of these overtures is faithfully indicated in the preceding paragraph. As to its chances of success, who can tell? Alexander the Third was not more remarkable as a man of peace than as the least forgiving of pacificators; and it is imaginable that his German cousin had little better hope of being taken to his breast than his Battenberg cousin had after that unhappy prince's worst offences in Bulgaria. But who can tell? Time and changing circumstance might have done it, though there is one good reason for doubting whether the German Emperor would have succeeded at the moment, and it is a reason well worth considering on other accounts.

We have said that on the discovery of any design which, first or last, might answer to a coalition against England, it would of course become the duty of her Government to take prompt measures of prevention. We have no actual, adducible authority for saying that a design to that effect was afoot, and none that Lord Rosebery acted as if he thought it likely. But we are not without a sign in the matter. Amidst the talk of the Prince of Wales's diplomatic action after the death of Alexander, Lord Rosebery's diplomatic action before that event seems to be overlooked. Yet we know from what he told us about the Pamir negotiations, and how harmoniously they went on, that he had been busy and anxious in the Czar Pacificator's time