And eagle-eyed wisdom alone cannot take the lead of
human action, which in its nature must for ever remain
short-sighted. The trouble of the civilised
world is the want of a common conservative principle
abstract enough to give the impulse, practical enough
to form the rallying point of international action
tending towards the restraint of particular ambitions.
Peace tribunals instituted for the greater glory
of war will not replace it. Whether such a principle
exists—who can say? If it does not,
then it ought to be invented. A sage with a
sense of humour and a heart of compassion should set
about it without loss of time, and a solemn prophet
full of words and fire ought to be given the task
of preparing the minds. So far there is no trace
of such a principle anywhere in sight; even its plausible
imitations (never very effective) have disappeared
long ago before the doctrine of national aspirations.
Il n’y a plus d’Europe—there
is only an armed and trading continent, the home of
slowly maturing economical contests for life and death
and of loudly proclaimed world-wide ambitions.
There are also other ambitions not so loud, but deeply
rooted in the envious acquisitive temperament of the
last corner amongst the great Powers of the Continent,
whose feet are not exactly in the ocean—not
yet—and whose head is very high up—in
Pomerania, the breeding place of such precious Grenadiers
that Prince Bismarck (whom it is a pleasure to quote)
would not have given the bones of one of them for the
settlement of the old Eastern Question. But
times have changed, since, by way of keeping up, I
suppose, some old barbaric German rite, the faithful
servant of the Hohenzollerns was buried alive to celebrate
the accession of a new Emperor.
Already the voice of surmises has been heard hinting
tentatively at a possible re-grouping of European
Powers. The alliance of the three Empires is
supposed possible. And it may be possible.
The myth of Russia’s power is dying very hard—hard
enough for that combination to take place—such
is the fascination that a discredited show of numbers
will still exercise upon the imagination of a people
trained to the worship of force. Germany may
be willing to lend its support to a tottering autocracy
for the sake of an undisputed first place, and of a
preponderating voice in the settlement of every question
in that south-east of Europe which merges into Asia.
No principle being involved in such an alliance of
mere expediency, it would never be allowed to stand
in the way of Germany’s other ambitions.
The fall of autocracy would bring its restraint automatically
to an end. Thus it may be believed that the
support Russian despotism may get from its once humble
friend and client will not be stamped by that thoroughness
which is supposed to be the mark of German superiority.
Russia weakened down to the second place, or Russia
eclipsed altogether during the throes of her regeneration,
will answer equally well the plans of German policy—which
are many and various and often incredible, though the
aim of them all is the same: aggrandisement of
territory and influence, with no regard to right and
justice, either in the East or in the West. For
that and no other is the true note of your Welt-politik
which desires to live.