and securing them the sovereignty of the world.  France will accordingly make certain stipulations as the price of its alliance—­stipulations which are so loyal and equitable that there is no question whatever of their not being agreed to on the part of her ally, Russia.  France demands that her possessions in Tonking, Cochin China, Cambodia, Annam, and Laos shall be guaranteed; that Russia be instrumental in assisting her to acquire Egypt, and that it pledge itself to support the French policy in Tunis and the rest of Africa.”  In accordance with my instructions, I felt myself empowered to assure M. Delcasse that his conditions were accepted on our side.  In answer to my question, whether a war with England would be popular in France, the Minister said:  “The French people will be ready for any sacrifice if we make Fashoda our war-cry.  British insolence never showed itself more brutal and insulting than over this affair.  Our brave Marchand was on the spot with a superior force, and France was within her rights.  The simple demand of an English officer, who possessed no other force but the moral one of the English flag, compelled us, however, under the political circumstances which then obtained, to abandon our righteous claims, and to recall our brave leader.  How the French people viewed this defeat has been plainly seen.  The Parisians gave Marchand a splendid ovation as a national hero, and the French Government seriously contemplated the possibility of a revolution.  We are now in a position to take revenge for the humiliation which we then endured, probably out of excessive prudence.  If we inscribe the word fashoda on the tricolour there will not be in the whole of France a man capable of bearing arms who will not follow our lead with enthusiasm.”  It appeared to me to be politic to assure myself whether the Government or the inspired press would not perhaps promise the people the recovery of Alsace-Lorraine as the price of a victorious issue of the war.  But the Minister replied decidedly, “No.  The question of Alsace-Lorraine,” he declared, “must remain outside our view as soon as we make up our minds to go in for practical politics.  Nothing could possibly be more fatal than to rouse bad blood in Germany.  For the German Emperor is the tongue of the balance in which the destinies of the world are weighed.  England in her own esteem has nothing to fear from him.  She regards him more as an Englishman than a German.  Her confidence in this respect must not be disturbed; it forms one of the props on which British arrogance supports itself.  The everlasting assurances of the German Emperor, that he intends peace and nothing but peace, appear, of course, to confirm the correctness of this view.  But I am certain that the Emperor William’s love of peace has its limits where the welfare and the security of Germany are seriously jeopardised.  In spite of his impulsive temperament, he is not the ruler to allow himself to be influenced by every expression