In order to gain control of the political power in Russia, the Bolsheviki embraced the political tenets of the most extreme Left. These tenets were of the extreme Left both politically and economically. The control once safely in their hands, and the country so organized as to preserve that control, the Bolsheviki were confronted with the neces

sity of reconciling workable political tenets with wholly unworkable economic tenets. The whole internal strategy of the present Russian administration has been to shift toward the Right in administrative and economic matters as rapidly as possible, without giving its more radical followers an opportunity to break away and lead a new revolt against them on the pretext of their having become 'counter-revolutionary.'

In this strategy a Russian community, in its general social make-up not unlike Russia itself, functioning successfully while preserving the institution of private property, its people better off economically speaking than those of European Russia, is of far more importance than the nominal control over, or the extension of demonstra

tedly unworkable economic doctrines over a stretch of territory small in proportion to that already under Soviet rule. In other words, the political situation in Russia itself, the necessity under which its rulers find themselves of shifting to the Right economically while holding to the Left politically, ensures the Far Eastern Republic against any attempt on the part of the Russian Communists to inject their doctrines into the governmental organism of a people to whom those doctrines are wholly unacceptable.

The Government of the Far Eastern Republic comes as near being under the control of the people whom it governs as any of the accepted democracies of the world to-day. There is only one considerable force working to change this condition. That is the Japanese army. That army cannot conquer and hold Eastern Siberia. If it insists upon trying, it will simply succeed in bringing upon itself a counter-stroke from Russia which will be as disastrous to it as its own desperate blow in 1905 was to the Russian ambitions of those days.

I

BISMARCK describes, in his Thoughts and Memories, how he became a diplomat. In reply to an abrupt inquiry by Minister Manteuffel whether he would accept a post as envoy of the Federation, he promptly replied, 'Yes.' The King observed to him at the time of his audience: 'You show great courage in accepting an unfamiliar office so unceremoniously.' Bismarck replied: "The courage is all on your side, Your Majesty, in entrusting such a post to me. I cannot know whether the task exceeds my capacity until I have tried it. If I believe I am not competent to fill this position, I shall be the first to ask to be relieved of it. I have the courage to obey when Your Majesty commands.'

Bismarck had no reason to regret his bold decision, and his ruler and his Fatherland were later thankful that he made it. Indeed, real courage was necessary to assume the responsibilities resting upon a conscientious diplomat during the recent critical years in Europe. Good citizens discussed sagely our foreign policies and were puffed up with the idea that they controlled them; but they merely did the talking, while others did the doing. They were not the leaders but the led. Grave and critical decisions were made by a few men, who worked in secret, behind a thick veil which the public gaze could

not pierce. The World War has opened the eyes of the people to their helplessness, and made them demand that secret diplomacy shall end. They would make it impossible in the future for a few individuals to invoke such disasters upon unsuspecting nations. Bitter are the charges brought against our diplomats, and they are held mainly guilty of the crime of our late war.

It is true that their influence was important; for they knew the secret things that were going on behind the scenes, the tendencies and antipathies which were shaping the destiny of mankind. But among these diplomats there were, most assuredly, sane, conscientious men, who labored honestly to avert the tempest and preserve peace. If there were Isvolskis demanding 'my war,' there were others laboring to prevent war.

One of these guardians of peace, these champions of good-will, was Freiherr von Schoen, who served in turn as Germany's Minister of Foreign Affairs, and her Ambassador at Paris. He now tells us what he saw and did during the fifteen years before the crisis. He is a modest man, reserved in language. There is not a boastful sentence or self-conscious phrase in his pages. He is a German diplomat, who did his duty and reports it modestly.

Our lives are often made by accident. Freiherr von Schoen was a Hessian, the

son of a bourgeois factory owner. His early ambition was to become a gentleman farmer. When the war against France broke out, in 1870, he was seized with the prevalent enthusiasm and joined a Darmstadt regiment as volunteer. After hostilities were over, he remained in the service. Having by chance been attached to the embassy at Madrid, he drifted into a diplomatic career. From Spain he was transferred to Denmark, and thence to Petrograd.

It was a most unexpected experience, to find himself, on August 3, 1914, Ambassador at Paris, bidden to deliver Germany's declaration of war to France. He certainly did not foresee defeat; for his country's victorious career had been unbroken during his fifty years of military and public life. But it is the fate of the German people to be recalled repeatedly to the starting-point, only to outstrip each time their previous record. Treitschke opened his history with these words: 'The German nation, in spite of its ancient traditions, is the youngest of European peoples. Twice it has been restored to youth; twice it has passed through the struggle of refounding its political power and rebuilding its free institutions.'

Now we must start over for a third time to erect a new structure on a new foundation. Freiherr von Schoen has many interesting things to tell us of the incidents immediately preceding this last great change.

Naturally, Wilhelm II holds the centre of the stage. Many are the portraits drawn of him, and marvelously different are their outlines. Party hatred and party loyalty have portrayed him in the most contrasting forms and colors. Freiherr von Schoen emphasizes the active share which the Kaiser took in the country's foreign policy. He insisted upon knowing all that was going on and upon approving or rejecting every important measure. But though he was

accustomed, as a ruler, to give precedence to his own ideas and wishes, he was by no means inaccessible to contrary opinions. He repeatedly modified his plans in response to advice, or even reversed them.

personality. In many respects he was very

The Kaiser had an unusually marked

talented. In others he had the spirit of a child. Taken broadly, he was a man of generous, impulsive emotions rather than of cool calculation and superior understanding. He was filled with a serious desire to administer his high office in obedience to both divine and human law. He was a man of noble ideals, confident that strength would be granted him to convert them into realities. He was sensitive, quick of comprehension, with a remarkable memory; fatally facile in speech and writing; wellgrounded in some fields of science and superficial in many others; free of antiquated prejudices, and yet a believer in Divine Grace; prone to hasty decisions, and yet at times timid and hesitating; for the most part confident that what he did was right, but occasionally oppressed with doubts and self-reproach.

Many errors regarding the career of the last Hohenzollern ruler are corrected in this volume. What a sensation Wilhelm's visit to Tangier in March, 1905, created! Many thought it was an act of personal policy. Freiherr von Schoen, who was personally conversant with the whole affair, contradicts this. The monarch made his Tangier visit with many misgivings. He did not design to make his Mediterranean trip a political demonstration. It was the Imperial Chancellor who gave it that turn. Even at the last moment, the visit was almost canceled. The Kaiser learned that the streets were too narrow to admit a vehicle, and did not wish to mount an unfamiliar horse. He learned also, during the journey, that it was difficult to land at Tangier when the east winds made the unprotected harbor rough. So he vacillated. He

wanted to avoid a demonstration, and later regretted that he did not persist in his original refusal to land.

Our author also punctures the myth that the Kaiser opposed the appointment of Mr. Hill as American Ambassador to Berlin, because that gentleman was not wealthy. Quite the reverse. He caused Washington to be informed that the gentleman suggested would be very welcome, in case the President should select him. When Mr. Hill arrived later, he had no reason to complain of his reception.

The Daily Telegraph's interview with the Kaiser created a tremendous sensation. For weeks its echoes resounded throughout the world, and caused a serious crisis in Germany itself. Freiherr von Schoen was at this time at the head of the Foreign Office. He describes the incident as follows. On October 11, 1908, about seven o'clock in the evening, the Imperial Chancellor summoned him for an interview. The official who brought the message handed him at the same time a small document in a closed portfolio, with the remark that it was a private matter which the Imperial Chancellor reserved for his own consideration. Freiherr von Schoen had no opportunity to examine the contents, and handed the document to his chief, Prince von Bülow, with a remark to that effect. The paper was the manuscript of the Daily Telegraph interview.

A little more than two weeks later, the secretary was surprised to receive a telegram from the chief of the Press Division, reporting the publication of the article in a London newspaper, with the inquiry whether the Wolff Bureau might put it on the wires. Freiherr von Schoen wrote on the margin of the manuscript, with a red pencil, 'No.' The article, however, had already reached Berlin and become public; so the secretary had to let events take

their course. The sensational remarks which the Kaiser had let drop to an English host in the autumn of 1907 were intended to promote a better understanding between Germany and Great Britain. A draft of the article had been submitted to the Kaiser, who had passed it on to Prince von Bülow, who was at that time resting at Nordeney. The Chancellor sent the manuscript to the Foreign Office to be examined, but his orders were wrongly transmitted and misunderstood. Instead of giving an opinion as to its probable political effect, the Foreign Office merely reported as to the accuracy of its facts. Truly an odd series of mischances!

Freiherr von Schoen describes at length his experiences as Ambassador to Petrograd, as Secretary of State at Berlin, and as Ambassador in Paris, where he assumed his official duties in 1910. He arrived in France filled with the best hopes and intentions. He was honestly eager to be a conciliator, and to remove the sentimental and intellectual barriers which separated the two neighbors. In his remarks at the time of his formal reception by President Fallières, he used the term, 'friendly and neighborly relations.' It was a well-meant and promising overture.

Proposals were already in the air for intimate coöperation between Germany and France, in the spirit of the Morocco agreement, which had been concluded at the time the new Ambassador was Secretary of State at Berlin. But the political horizon, so bright in the beginning, speedily became overcast. France undertook a military expedition to Fez; and Germany sent the gunboat Panther to Agadir, without previously notifying Freiherr von Schoen of her intentions. For weeks Europe was on the verge of war. Germany began to feel the pressure of Great Britain's encircling policy. However, the matter

was settled through negotiations; for the Caillaux Cabinet, which was intent upon establishing a better footing with Germany, avoided extreme action.

However, this friendly ministry soon fell, and with Raymond Poincaré's rise to power, chauvinism was in the saddle. The new Premier declared that France would never tolerate a second Agadir; and when he was elected President of the Republic, an era of reaction began. The Balkan War brought forth a new period of agitation and tension, during which England and France quietly concluded the agreements which, though they never constituted an alliance, created a firm tie between the two nations. A craze for heavy armaments added still further to Europe's perils. Freiherr von Schoen addressed Minister Barthou, seeking some formula for peaceful coöperation. But the head of the French Cabinet nipped this hope in the bud, by declaring that Alsace-Lorraine must be restored before the two countries could be friends.

Then came the fatal year 1914, with the assassination at Serajevo, and the sharp ultimatum of the Vienna government to Serbia. The latter was a surprise for the German Ambassador in Paris; for the previous day his Austrian colleague had informed him that his government's demands would be acceptable to its southern neighbor. The crisis occasioned by the annexation of Bosnia and Herzegovina occurred when von Schoen was at the head of the Berlin Foreign Office. Baron Aehrenthal, the Austrian Foreign Minister, saw him a month before and informed him of his plan. Vienna anticipated no difficulties from Russia. "The bear will growl and snarl, but will not bite.' Isvolsky also called on von Schoen, complaining of Aehrenthal's adventurous plans, which he thought due to that gentleman's personal ambition. During this critical period, the Russian minister

made a second visit to Berlin in a vain effort to persuade Germany to break with her ally.

This time, however, conditions were different. After the Austrian ultimatum to Serbia, the situation instantly became serious. Germany's efforts to localize the war were regarded at Paris as an effort to prevent the great powers from using their influence at Vienna. Our endeavors to pacify Petrograd were taken for a bold manœuvre to destroy the alliance between France and Russia. Mutual suspicions were too deep to be overcome. All efforts of the German Ambassador proved fruitless. Freiherr von Schoen points out that Russia had been prepared for war for several months. He quotes from the minutes of a Crown Council, held a considerable period before the catastrophe: "The time for gaining our goal approaches. We can attain our objects only by war. It is the duty of the Foreign Minister to arrange that we shall fight it under the most favorable conditions,'

France as well as Russia was secretly preparing for the coming conflict. Huge supplies of flour had been assembled at Paris the previous winter. Governor-General Michel reported in January, 1914: 'Time presses. We do not know but that we may be forced to mobilize in March or April.' Switzerland was also offered grain-supplies. France was not seeking war, but it saw the day for settling the Alsace question drawing nearer.

In this atmosphere events in Austria quickly assumed a serious aspect. On July 31, von Schoen was instructed to inform the French Premier that Russia's mobilization had compelled Germany to declare a state of danger of war, and that mobilization would be inevitable if the Tsar did not recall his threatening measures. The Ambassador was to inquire whether France would