There you have the genuine style of Bismarck, of the man who invented the formula—­“the Right of Might.”

One thing—­and one thing only—­might possibly lead William II to entertain seriously this idea of disarmament, and that would be for Bismarck to oppose it.  Truly, there is something extremely pleasant in this duel between the two ex-accomplices!  Bismarck terrorising socialism, William coaxing and wheedling it, for no other tangible purpose than to act in opposition to him whose power he has overthrown.

What an eccentric freak is this German Emperor!  One day he sends the Sultan a sword of honour, a bitter jest for one who has never known anything but defeat!  The next, he proposes to take back the command of the fleet from his brother Henry, and in order to get rid of him conceives the plan of making Alsace-Lorraine and Luxembourg into a new kingdom.

At the same time he proposes to provide the Grand Duke of Luxembourg with a guard of honour, a guard a la Prudhomme, whose business it would be to defend and to fight him.  The State Council of the patriotic Grand Duchy is aroused, and denies the right of Prussia on any pretext to interfere in its affairs.  Boldly it reminds the Powers signatory to the Convention of 1867 of their pledges.

And with all his mania for governing the world at large, William II would seem to be possessed of the evil eye, and to bring misfortune to all whom he honours with his friendship for any length of time.

February 10, 1891.

It looks as if poor Bismarck were about to be treated just as he treated Count von Arnim.  Can it be that everything must be paid for in this world, and that a splendid retributive justice rules the destiny even of super-men and punishes them for committing base actions?  It is rumoured that the Duke of Lauenbourg (Bismarck) is threatened with prosecution on a charge of lese majeste, which the lawyers of the Crown will not have very much trouble in proving against him.  That any one should dare to criticise the Emperor’s policy, even though it be Bismarck, or that any one, even be it Count Waldersee, should express a personal opinion in his presence, is more than William II will tolerate.

The “sympathetic Emperor” has a cruel way of doing things.  Before striking his victims it is his wont to give them some public mark of his esteem and good-will.  Small and great, they pass before him, sacrificed each in his turn, so soon as they have come to believe themselves for a moment in the enjoyment of his favour.  Thus Colonel Kaissel, aide-de-camp to the Emperor, is about to be shelved.  Lieutenant von Chelin has been removed from the Court, General von Wittich has already lost his fleeting favour, and the moderating influence of Major de Huene, erected on the ruins of that of Von Falkenstein, proves to be equally short-lived.  Three generals in command of army corps are now threatened—­that is, of course, unless a fortnight hence they should prove to have reached the highest pinnacle of favour.