“The Imperial Chancellor on Leave.

“Berlin, April 19th.

“The Imperial Chancellor has taken leave of absence. His resignation has not been accepted, and he has not insisted upon it. The crisis is, therefore, at an end. The Prince will return, although probably somewhat later than usual. Restored by his course of baths, country air, and release from current affairs, he will again take the helm, and all will be as it was before. Let us be thankful that it is so!

“The foregoing is roughly the view of the situation which finds expression in the press. Permit me to submit another view. The crisis is not at an end, but only postponed. The question whether Prince Bismarck is to retire from the service of Prussia and the Empire has, to the relief of all who wished well to both, been answered in the negative, but that answer is only for the time being. Those who are acquainted with the situation still regard the future with anxiety. It is by no means certain that the Imperial Chancellor will return in that capacity, and if he does it may be taken as certain that things will not remain as they were before. In other words, the Prince will lay down his conditions before he resumes his official duties, with their aims and burdens, and these conditions must be agreed to if we are to see him again at work as of old.

“Public opinion can render some assistance here. It will do well not to rest content with the present situation, but, on the contrary, to show a clearer perception than it has hitherto done of the grave causes which have mainly produced this lingering and protracted crisis; and to give it unremitting and persistent expression in the press, at the same time urging the removal of those strangely abnormal conditions under which even a Bismarck cannot work effectively; much less any such successor as has been suggested within the past few weeks, however distinguished, independent and tactful he may be. The press may do good service if it will pay attention to the following hints, and give them the widest possible publicity.

“Erroneous views are held of the Chancellor’s position in many respects. Just as he is considered from his appearance to be more healthy, and from his extensive estates to be more wealthy than he is in reality, so there is a widespread misconception as to the influence which he exercises, inasmuch as it is usually thought to be unlimited. That is not at all the case. The Prince has to reckon with the Ministers, over whom he has not the authority which he ought to enjoy as their Chief, and whose opposition has already on several occasions hampered his schemes. It has also happened that high officials in his own department have entertained entirely conflicting views, and have both openly and secretly opposed him, and indeed even tried to undermine his authority. Count Arnim, who, after having shunned his earthly judge, seems to have suddenly fallen under the judgment of God (he was already suffering severely from diabetes, of which he died in 1881), was the worst of this melancholy species of diplomatists, but was by no means the only specimen of his class. A whole series of Excellencies and others who had been shelved owing to incapacity or some other failing, or for reactionary or ultramontane leanings, &c., made opposition, conspired and intrigued, always zealously, often with the foulest weapons, and sometimes in combination with the lowest associates, against the greatness which overshadowed them. They attempted to cross the Chancellor’s plans and to blacken his character, or, at least, to irritate him, and thus to injure his health. A section of the party in the Reichstag upon which the Prince relies to support his measures, made difficulties and curtailed his influence inasmuch as—certainly with the best intentions—they regarded criticism as the pride and first duty of a popular representative. But the main obstacle is that which I pointed out a fortnight ago, and it will perhaps remain the Prince’s chief difficulty, unless public opinion opens its eyes and takes more vigorous and persistent action. That obstacle is the anomalous condition of affairs at Court, where, in a certain exalted quarter, the dregs of the Kreuzzeitung clique, and the irreconcilable opposition in the Upper House have combined with ultramontane poison out of the sewers of Rome. There fresh troubles are constantly being prepared for the Chancellor, fresh difficulties are being placed in his path, now at one point and then at another, and the constant encouragement given to his opponents retards the victory which otherwise would doubtless have been his before now.

“We must forego for the present a more minute description of this Bonbonnière full of Kreuzzeitung comfits and Jesuit sweetmeats. Nevertheless attentive newspaper readers may be reminded by a few instances (which shall be indicated with as much indulgence as possible) of the manner in which the forces, aims, and intrigues of this Court faction have made themselves felt during the last few months. It should be mentioned, by the way, that its mines have been laid for a considerable time past. The chief editor of an important reactionary paper, which has endeavoured for many years to alienate public opinion from the Government and the Emperor, was at length prosecuted and condemned for libel against Ministers. (Incorrect. See last note.) This man has been pardoned on the petition of the offended Ministers, owing to the intercession—well, let us say—of an exalted lady. (According to another version, at least released.) The same exalted lady wrote letters to Catholic associations, which were afterwards published, in disapproval of the ecclesiastical laws. Two members of the distinguished Polish family recently mentioned, both belonging to the Centre fraction, one a former secretary to Ledochowski, and the other a priest who was engaged in the notorious Marping farce, are welcome guests in the circles that gather around this lady. According to all appearances direct instructions were issued by her to the authorities in the affair of the Ursulines. This may perhaps recall to many of your readers Eugénie’s action during the war. A Count and Master of the Household who is known as a zealous Ultramontane, whose relations to the Reichsglocke[16] were disclosed during the prosecution of that paper, and who took part in the conferences of the editorial staff at Olbrich’s, received immediately after that scandal one of the highest Prussian Orders—a recognition which few can explain, and which, of course, no loyal reader can account for, except by supposing that the achievements of the Reichsglocke were regarded with extreme favour in certain circles.

“How does the reader like these incidents, to which many others equally striking might be added? That they were distasteful to the Imperial Chancellor must, of course, be obvious. It is, indeed, quite possible that he may have made use of the expression attributed to him, namely, ‘that his greatest difficulties arise out of his having to undertake a diplomatic mission to our own Court.’”

“Further Friction.

“Berlin, April 26th.

“In the article ‘The Imperial Chancellor on Leave’ attention was called to the fact that besides the opposition of the Court there were other sources of friction that worried and wearied the Prince, exhausting his powers, hampering his work, and thus stimulating his anxiety to be released from office. We select for consideration to-day those that lie in the attitude of certain authorities working immediately under him, or more correctly associated with his work, in respect of various important reforms which the Prince has greatly at heart, but which are making no progress towards fulfilment. In other words the Imperial Chancellor when he sought to resign had been disappointed of the co-operation and support which he had expected from one of his colleagues (Camphausen was meant) in connection with some measures affecting the Customs and commercial policy and taxation—measures which he regards as indispensable, but which have hitherto not been dealt with.

“‘When a sportsman becomes faint and weary,’ said the Prince a few months ago, in conversation with a party of friends, ‘and is about to go home, he will not alter his mind because he is told there is a covey of partridges near at hand. It would perhaps be different if he were told that there was some pig in the next glen. The chance of a boar hunt would revive his strength and courage.’ So goes the story (not quite accurately, by the way), according to an article in the Kölnische Zeitung, written apparently by a member of the Minister’s immediate entourage, and certainly emphasised by the sarcastic tone in which it frequently deals with the difficulties in the way of reform. The simile is so far to the point, that the wild boar referred to represented certain reforms in the Customs, and in the fiscal and railway system. But the correspondent omitted the real moral of the story. When he says, ‘As soon as Prince Bismarck is in a position to submit complete and well-founded schemes calculated to withstand criticism, there will be no longer in our opinion any difficulty in finding in the Reichstag a large and resolute party, in favour of such reforms of our commercial policy;’ and when he makes a similar assertion respecting the taxation laws, and the railway system, he transposes the actual relations of things and circumstances. There is no question of the Imperial Chancellor submitting measures which would have to run the gauntlet, first, of the Minister to whose department they properly belong, and then, of the Reichstag. The Prince has no intention of preparing such measures himself. He is anxious for these reforms, but he has no idea of embodying them himself in Parliamentary measures to be submitted to the Legislature. He expects his colleagues to undertake that work, and has informed them so. That he has failed to induce them to take any such initiative is, as the Post of the 19th assures us—we believe on the best authority—one of the reasons that have led the Chancellor to send in his resignation.

“According to the Post, the true moral of the above story is to be found in the words which the Prince added on that occasion: ‘He could only remain in office if his colleagues took up the reforms in question of their own motion, and independently.’ Otherwise, he wished to retire, as he did not feel strong enough to bear the strain of Ministerial crises, together with a breach with his old colleagues, and the necessity of accustoming himself to new men. It was unfair to ask him to do all the work, and submit it to the criticism of a departmental chief bent on another course. (The ‘other course’ referred to was doubtless that of the Manchester School.) He had laid his own course in the railway question, and had ostensibly received the approval of all his colleagues. When it came, however, to the carrying out of his proposals he met with the customary passive resistance, and the usual refusal—just like the Progressive party, whose invariable reply was, ‘No, not in that way, but in another way’—that is to say, in some way that would never work. On that occasion the Chancellor said: ‘What I have to do is to ascertain whether my present colleagues will, of their own initiative and free conviction, carry out those reforms which I regard as indispensable, in such a manner that they will take the responsibility for me, and not I for them. If they would only do so I would willingly continue my credit and my name to the firm, in order to carry through these reforms.’

“The writer in the Kölnische Zeitung has expressed himself so confident with regard to the reforms desired by the Prince, that one may perhaps inquire why the same success which he promises if the Chancellor submits them to the criticism of Ministers and of the parties in the Reichstag should not attend them if the colleagues, whose business it is, were to draft these measures and recommend them to the acceptance of the Legislature. The particular colleague who, as already observed, had no small share in preparing the article in question, is as self-confident as he is many-sided. He seems to possess power and influence. Two years ago he said in the Reichstag: ‘The word impossible is printed in very small characters in my dictionary.’ He has connections with the Castle at Coblenz, and is at the same time highly appreciated in certain exalted circles in Berlin, where people are most liberal and enlightened, as a corner-stone of Constitutionalism and a pillar of Protestantism. Why does a man of so much importance and ability decline to take the initiative of the reforms which the Chancellor has at heart? Is it, perhaps, that he fears to jeopardise one side of his many-sidedness, or to renounce thereby his past, his principles, and his connections as a member of the Manchester School?

“And now to another point, which requires refutation, viz., the rumour mentioned in a leading Berlin paper of friction with another department. The National Zeitung of yesterday, in an article on Moltke’s speech, says it doubtless referred to a conflict between considerations of military and political necessity. It might be inferred from this insinuation that the Imperial Chancellor was opposed to the strengthening of the German garrisons in the neighbourhood of Metz. Such a supposition would, however, be erroneous. On the contrary the Prince has, in this respect, not only been in complete agreement with the highest military authorities, but has done everything in his power to support and promote their views. For years past they have asked for better railway communications with Lorraine and more troops in that part of the Empire. It was impossible to do anything in the former direction until the Chancellor had exercised sufficient pressure to overcome the obstruction of the Ministry of Commerce, and compelled the Minister to proceed with the construction of the line between St. Ingbert and Saarbrücken, a connection which the spiritus rector of the Prussian railway system had postponed for years out of consideration for petty trading interests. The Prince has also done all he could to secure an increase of the garrison in Lorraine. This increase is, however, understood to have remained in abeyance, as it still does, because in a non-official, but exalted and influential quarter, it is feared that the French might feel hurt or offended—i.e. the gentlemen who speak that language so fluently, who for the most part have beautiful black whiskers and profess the Catholic religion, which, of course, is much more distinguished than the Evangelical!

“P.S.—A member of the Reichstag, who is at the same time an intimate friend of the Imperial Chancellor, has felt constrained to issue a warning in the Magdeburger Zeitung against our articles. He would be surprised if he knew with what composure we have read his communication. Of course, ignoring all further contradictions of this kind, we shall continue to say what we know, and we shall obtain credence for it.”

“In Explanation.

“Berlin, May 6th.

“We observe that the second of our articles on the Chancellor crisis has been judged in very different ways by the press. The Germania has discovered amongst other things that it is directed against the Empress Eugénie. Other papers were astounded at information which they received from us for the first time. Others, again, considered themselves so fully acquainted with the truth, which is generally known to lie at the bottom of a deep well, that they declare the contents of the article to be untrue, or—as some with discourteous indignation chose to express themselves—invented. Finally, another section of the press, including the chief organ of public opinion in a small German capital (this referred to the Weimar Zeitung), found that the bulk of what we had stated was long since known. In spite of its unfriendly tone towards us, we must do that organ the justice of acknowledging that its statement is correct. In other words, we do not enjoy the power of slipping through keyholes, we cannot make ourselves invisible in order to spy out what happens in otherwise inaccessible spheres, and finally we have no devil upon two sticks at our disposal to remove for us the roofs of palaces and clubs. We have nothing more than a tolerably good memory and the habit of collecting material. In dealing with what we have read in the press and heard in conversation, we act pretty much as the botanist does when collecting specimens in upland meadows and lowland marshes—we place carefully side by side the specimens we have found scattered in various directions and examine their affinities, noting how they complement each other. To our great surprise we now find that the result of this surely very simple process has produced here and there the impression that we possess magical powers, and that we had brought profound secrets to light. It is certainly quite true, however, that we have said nothing that attentive readers with a certain capacity for comparative analysis and sound deductions have not been long ago aware of. Why, then, all this excitement?

“In conclusion, if we trusted too much to our memory in some details of minor importance, and misunderstood insult for libel or Ministers for members of a High Consistory, we must in future be more careful to label correctly the various specimens in our collection.”

“The Angel of Peace.

“We learn for the first time through an Austrian journal that the Czas (which is known to be the organ of the Polish aristocratic ultramontane party, and which occasionally, through its patrons the Radziwills, the Czartoryskis, &c., receives very good information indeed respecting sentiments, intentions and occurrences in Court circles and in the upper regions of society) has published the following comparatively colourless statement respecting the Chancellor crisis in Berlin. Some time ago Queen Victoria wrote direct to Prince Bismarck, urging upon him to prevent the war between Russia and the Porte. The answer was evasive. Then followed a second letter from her Britannic Majesty to the Imperial Chancellor, repeating her request more urgently. This time the reply was somewhat more positive in form, but was still not to the taste of the Queen, who then turned to the Emperor, and made him and Germany responsible for the outbreak of war.

“We do not know what truth there is in this report, but we do not consider it incredible. Moreover, this remarkable suggestion that it is our duty to compel our faithful neighbour Russia to maintain peace, not because we have any special cause or reason to do so, but solely to oblige the English by relieving them from all anxiety as to their interests on the Bosphorus, and by enabling them to continue their huckstering in all tranquillity of mind, has, we believe, reached the Emperor through another channel (which the readers of these articles will be able to guess), and has received warm support here. It must be borne in mind that his Majesty is thoroughly devoted to peace, and sincerely desires that he himself, the German people, and the whole world, may be saved from fresh wars. These being his sentiments, he is disposed to consider the wishes and counsels which, in the opinion of those who submitted them to him, are calculated to serve the cause of peace. But such counsels, if they do not emanate from a great and far-seeing mind, which takes all the circumstances and possibilities into account, may lead to the exact contrary of what is desired, that is to say to war. In January The Times implored the Imperial Chancellor to give orders for the maintenance of peace. Somewhat later it addressed a similar affecting appeal to the Emperor, and we may take it for certain that Queen Victoria was induced by her cunning Semitic adviser to use her influence in the same direction through the channel indicated above.

“Let us suppose that Germany had allowed herself to be ‘nobbled’—indeed, it is hardly possible to use any other expression—had struck an attitude, and shouted ‘Peace in Europe!’ and that Russia had not halted at the word of command, but let her troops advance—what would have happened then? Why, we should then, for the maintenance of peace, have been obliged to wage war against Russia, which at the best would serve to pull the chestnuts out of the fire for magnanimous Albion, or our word of command would have proved to be impotent, and we should have made ourselves ridiculous—and ridiculous merely in the service of England, a Power that has never honestly wished us well, and has only accepted our position in Europe in the hope that it may some day be utilised for the furtherance of its own mercenary policy.

“The case of the Paris Exhibition is quite similar. This affair also excited warm sympathy in the quarter which we have in view, where it has become a second nature to ‘work for peace.’ When the Government, in spite of all such representations and appeals, declined to take part in the Exhibition, MacMahon sent the Marquis d’Abzac, an amiable gentleman upon whom exalted eyes had rested with special favour on a former occasion, to Berlin in order to make a last attempt. The marquis sung a hymn to peace in the most melting accents. We can hear him whisper with a winning smile that in this invitation France reached out her hand to Germany in reconciliation, that the Exhibition would be at the same time a peace congress. Why rudely reject the proffered hand of a former opponent who had now become a friend? How wonderfully an olive wreath would adorn the brow of a certain august lady! And other graceful speeches calculated to flatter and to touch the feelings. Then another appeal in the highest quarter on behalf of France, so unsuspicious, so well-meaning, so prettily persuasive, warmer and more urgent than before, and, at last, offensively persistent. It was all to no purpose. M. le Marquis did not, after all, succeed in securing anything more than one of the highest Orders for himself.

“But let us again in this instance suppose that the affair had been decided differently, and that, in spite of wiser counsels and a truer insight into the nature of the circumstances, the messenger sent by the President of the French Republic had returned to Paris with the acceptance of the invitation to the would-be festival of peace, what would the probable consequences have been? Germany would have co-operated in the Exhibition, and her exhibitors would have found themselves, to say the least, in an exceedingly uncomfortable position. They would have been exposed to dangers of all kinds—we have had ample experience of what the vindictiveness of French Chauvinism means, even in more harmless circumstances—and incidents might and probably would have occurred, resulting at least in irritation, perhaps in an exchange of hostile notes, and conceivably even in something worse.

“The same idea of a special mission to maintain and promote peace—our readers will, of course, read between the lines—governs similar relations with the Ultramontanes, and has, together with other motives, led to advances which would be otherwise inexplicable. After having opposed the Government during the elections with almost unexampled violence, and indulged in the vilest slanders and the most malignant intrigues against all loyal candidates, these worthy people hide the cloven hoof in patent leather shoes, and join the circles to which we have referred with an air of innocent cheerfulness as if butter would not melt in their mouth, and sun themselves in the radiance of the most exalted graciousness and favour. Indeed it is even said that in the council which is usually held to consider the lists of invitations, the faithful adherents of Rome who condescend to come—this is not done by all of them—are never omitted, but those who are loyal to the King are generally struck out.

“It may be permitted, perhaps, to draw the moral of these communications as follows:—

“In itself a love of peace is always a becoming feature, and particularly in a woman. But in our humble opinion such love of peace should not lead to a desire to play the part of ‘Angel of Peace,’ to take pleasure in hearing one’s self so styled, and to act up to it by thwarting the Chancellor’s plans, opposing wise counsels, and persistently promoting a course calculated to bring on war, and to perpetuate existing feuds, inasmuch as it encourages the enemy to regard the ‘Angel of Peace’ as an ally and to construe her efforts as a fresh stimulus to resistance.

“Heaven is the true home of such angels of peace, and there doubtless their sentimental politics will afford them a plentiful supply of beautiful emotions. We, however, live upon the earth, and the hard necessities of this life can only be properly estimated and dealt with by the understanding.”

“A Minister in partibus.

“Berlin, June 9th.

“A few weeks ago a Berlin local newspaper (he was thinking of the Tribune) published a statement that Baron von Schleinitz, the Minister of the Royal Household, has felt it his duty to submit the notorious Grenzboten articles—it is not said where or to whom—and to propose that an inquiry should be instituted with the object of ascertaining whether they issued from the Press Bureau—which Press Bureau is not specified. The business of the Minister in question, apart from Court functions with which we are not very well acquainted, consists in the administration of the property of the Royal House. According to Rönne members of the Ministry of the Household are not State officials, and questions affecting the press and the administration of the laws do not in any way fall within their jurisdiction. Perhaps this piece of news is only meant as a humorous reminder to us that one portrait was missing from the little gallery we recently presented of persons whom the achievements of the Chancellor have had the misfortune to displease. We certainly passed over the gentleman in question, but had by no means forgotten him,—any more than many others; but we thought that to each day sufficed the evil thereof. Herr von Schleinitz when he held the seals of the Foreign Office, certainly pursued quite a different policy to that of Prince Bismarck, and, therefore, it is after all small blame to him that he does not approve of the Bismarckian policy. We refrain from an analysis and discussion of the nature and success of the Schleinitz method, which was known in its time as the policy of moral conquests. We leave that task to history, where we are inclined to believe the name of Schleinitz will hardly figure except in a parenthesis descriptive of Court life. We take the liberty, however, of asserting openly that he has had no luck as a diplomatist.

“We hear it said that the property of the Royal House would yield a considerably larger income if it were differently administered. That may be the case, and yet we should not blame Herr von Schleinitz. A diplomat is not called upon to understand the administration of great estates and forests, and if he has no knowledge of the subject he may regard it as a misfortune that he should have been appointed to such duties.

“That is not the only misfortune which has befallen Herr von Schleinitz. Diest-Daber heard, and related at the trial, that the Reichsglocke had been sent to the Emperor by a lady named Schleinitz. Herr von Schleinitz has denied this statement in the Reichsanzeiger, but malicious journalists are now asking whether the evidence of a husband in favour of his wife is conclusive. A contributor to another paper (the Tribune) comes to his rescue with another supposition. The gossip might have originated in the circumstance that a former subordinate of the Minister of the Household, who is still frequently to be seen at his residence, the Geheimer Rechnungsrath Bernhardt (who had been mentioned by the Chief as the channel through which the Empress corresponded with certain foreign Sovereigns) took in ten copies of the Reichsglocke. Certainly Herr von Schleinitz has good reason to exclaim, ‘Heaven defend me from my friends!’

“He has reasons for this prayer in other respects also. When the war between ourselves and Austria was at hand the Austrians selected his residence as their rendezvous, as did the French at a later period, after they had waged against us a war which they have not yet forgotten. And in that quarter—our readers know the place—where every form of hostility to Prince Bismarck centres, Herr von Schleinitz has always been regarded as the future Chancellor or Minister for Foreign Affairs, or, to express it more suitably in a phrase borrowed from the Curia, as Minister in partibus. We credit his Excellency with too much self-knowledge to believe that he personally entertained the hope of being Prince Bismarck’s successor. And now he is understood to have actually received no other than Herr von Gruner as coadjutor designate! Surely the man may bewail his misfortunes!”

“Causes of the Change at Baden.

“Strassburg, June 24th.

“A Baden correspondent of your journal has repeatedly expressed his anxiety at the attitude towards the struggle between the State and the Ultramontanes which the ruling circles at Karlsruhe have for some time past shown a disposition to adopt, and indeed which they have actually begun to adopt, since the change of Ministry last September. This attitude, although for the present it is manifested rather in desire than in deed, means a retreat before Rome and her allies. The last time such indications became evident was some two months ago. I immediately made inquiries as to what truth was in them. It is only now however that I have received trustworthy explanations. It requires a closer knowledge of those circles than can be obtained here to say exactly in what way the change of sentiment referred to has come about, whether through influences that have gradually insinuated themselves there, or in consequence of tendencies which already existed and which those influences divined and afterwards developed. It is regarded as certain, however, by persons who are in a position to know, that the change of weather in the upper regions is associated with certain influences proceeding from Strassburg.

“Frequent visits are paid to Karlsruhe, among others by a gentleman of this city who has lately received an appointment at our University—experts assert less for his scientific attainments than through the recommendations of a coterie whose ramifications extend across the Channel. The following may serve to identify him. M. (I mention no name) formerly had charge of the interests of certain small Republics as Minister Resident in Berlin. There was not much work for him to do there, and as he was of an enterprising turn of mind and felt the necessity of playing a part in the world, he was impelled to dabble in politics more or less openly on his own account. He acted chiefly as letter carrier and newsmonger to the diplomacy of the smaller States (this refers to Professor Geffcken, who was associated with the Coburger, Samwer and Freytag), and endeavoured to promote the ends of the clique which he had joined by means of articles in the newspapers. As a matter of course, he was a zealous free-trader, and equally of course he was strongly in favour of the Augustenburger, at the time when the Schleswig-Holstein question was approaching its final solution. If things had followed the course he desired, Hamburg would have taken the field against Prussia in 1866, and would to-day be a Prussian city. People ought, therefore, to have been thankful to him in Berlin, but were not, and on the contrary refused to have anything to do with him. The Senate then sent him as Minister Resident to London, where many doors were opened for him by his enthusiasm for the House of Augustenburg. (It will be remembered that Queen Victoria is the mother-in-law of a brother of the Hereditary Prince of that day, now Duke of Augustenburg.) He therefore always had news to send, but the Senate ultimately found that it cost them too dear, and abolished the post. M. thereupon took a position in the administration of his native State, but seems to have himself soon realised that his work was not quite up to his pretensions. It was, therefore, necessary to devise ways and means in some other direction, and this was done. His Manchester principles recommended him to the official then at the head of the Imperial Chancellerie (Delbrück), who appointed him his assistant, (miracles, you see, still happen!) and his friends converted the unsuccessful diplomatist into a Professor in Ordinary at the High School of the Reichsland. In 1875 he launched a book entitled ‘State and Church,’ which is almost as thick as the Bible. The bulky proportions so essential to a professorial production were attained by a superficial historical compilation of some six hundred pages. The last chapter contained an unfavourable criticism of the Falk laws, written—to put it politely—in a very popular style, somewhat as if it were intended to be read by ladies. The real significance of the work,—of course not expressed in so many words, but clearly to be read between the lines,—is: ‘I am a model Minister of Public Worship!’ It is said that the author received further recommendations from Baden, which, however, failed to produce the intended effect in official circles, owing to a knowledge of his past, and to the accurate estimate formed of the same. Since then, M. has been delivering public lectures on all sorts of subjects, some with a political flavour, so much to the taste of the Francophil Philistines that they flock to hear the professor.

“Another professor found his way across the Kehl Bridge, and to the district which may be described as the handle of the Karlsruhe Fan.[17] I also forbear to give his name. (Max Müller is the professor here alluded to.) For the moment I will merely mention that he belongs to the Bunsen Club, and that—as far as I know—he is one of those German savants who are most indebted to an energetic and persistent system of advertisement. He is a member of the Berlin Academy of Science, and also of the French Institute, and is understood to be a capable Sanscrit scholar, which I do not question, although I certainly question the good taste of his friends in the Augsburger Zeitung, who seldom mention his name without describing him as ‘our celebrated countryman.’ The publication of Indian texts, which he is bringing out under the patronage of one of the Orleans Princes, has brought him into communication with that interesting family. In addition to his lectures at Oxford he occasionally delivers others in London, where he holds forth before a fashionable and feminine audience upon the growth of language, the origin of religion, and similar subjects. His numerous admirers in Germany announced a few years ago that he had been induced to deliver lectures here in Strassburg also. It is true that his friends in England put a different complexion on the affair. They say that British soil is no longer so congenial to him as it used to be, or, as they express it, England has become too hot for him. Be that as it may, he put in occasional appearances here, and read lectures. It is asserted that he was at the same time occupied with other matters also, great expectations and desires, which I will now merely indicate. Notwithstanding the skill which he displayed in his lectures on the origin of religion, in harmonising the demands of science with the devout respectability which is indispensable in England, he did not consider himself qualified for the post of Prussian Minister of Public Worship. But, after all, it is no new idea that Falk’s inheritance might be divided between two individuals, and he would probably not consider it beneath his dignity to accept the Department of Education (first, perhaps, at Karlsruhe, and then in Berlin). But for this purpose, of course, Falk must first be got rid of. Hereditas viventis non datur.

“A reaction from the East upon the West, from the right bank of the Rhine upon the left, is understood to have taken place since the winter of 1874–75. This is said to be manifested in the lively interest taken in the rights of the French language, which are alleged to be infringed in the teaching of French and in the teaching of religious and theological instruction at the girls’ schools in Alsace-Lorraine. It is related in official circles that in this matter there has been developed a sort of voluntary system reaching up to the most exalted authority in the State, and down again to the lowest. It is true that all these endeavours have, fortunately, been fruitless so far as my information goes.

“Finally, a journey was made to Rome. Between this incident and the commencement of the change at Karlsruhe, there must have been a number of connecting links which I cannot specify. Possibly, although it may not seem quite credible, one may be allowed to associate with this change a certain exalted lady, a widow of ripe years, who allowed herself to be converted to the only True Church by a fascinating priest, and who now, with the customary zeal of converts, considers it her duty to promote the restoration of peace with Rome, ignorant of the fact that Rome will never hear of peace, but only of complete subjection or of a truce. It may be taken as tolerably certain that bodily and mental conditions, a feeling of discontent, and numerous other more interesting visits than those of the two professors, have helped to place a noble nature in the service of schemes the significance of which such a nature is less able to appreciate than others. Those who are acquainted with the circumstances and persons concerned can easily imagine that in this instance Rome has exercised its influence, not as in the case of Luther, but rather as in that of Mortimer, although not with such striking effect, and that its acute Monsignors knew how to take advantage of their opportunity, even had no Vienna newspaper given a hint of a similar occurrence in that capital. It is perhaps fortunate that the peaceful assurances of ‘persons of high position at the Vatican’ were illustrated on the 12th of March by the allocution of the Holy Father in favour of a crusade.

“All this is very sad for men of patriotic sentiment, but it will be all the more welcome in another quarter where similar views have been entertained and a like influence has been exerted for years past, and where such assistance ‘in the cause of peace’ will be utilised to the utmost.”