two great countries in a direction they did not intend to take. Yes, and all this marches quite silently, so that never a ripple on the pool of politics stirs the shallow emotions of the public press. At the very bottom of the pool, I, René Guizet, sit like a little frog, invisible, nevertheless responsible for the troubling of the pool. And now, mes amis, I dare not appear. That, you will understand, is the thought that has pained and saddened me. I give you the story. You will remember, messieurs, how not two weeks since there came from England a nice little man who was warmly welcomed at the Quai d'Orsay. I will not mention names, nor may I speak of his important position. It is enough to say that he was a member of the British Government, an exalted member of that Government, and he came armed with sufficient power to settle the dostinies of Europe for another hundred years-if, by talking, one may settle anything. It was intended, one believes, that there should be agreements between this important gentleman and another gentleman, equally important, at the Quai d'Orsay. They would be private agreements possibly, that some later public conference would make public agreements by which our respective Governments would be bound. We will, then, if you please, speak of this anonymous British gentleman as Monsieur le Diplomate, and in this account give him no other name. You will remember also, mes amis, that two weeks ago, and even since a week, there was some talk of those agreements in the Press. They were quite as important as the gentlemen who were busy making them. The diplomats bent their august backs over many maps, and divided peoples magnificently between themselves in accordance with their profound ignorance of ethnology and geography. Sometimes, feeling generous, they graciously gave away little territories to other powers without consulting either the gift or the recipient, presently to be informed of their generosity. They juggled mythical billions of francs between them as a mountebank tosses his coloured balls. amuses oneself well like that, without doubt, and sometimes no harm comes of it. On other occasions, certainly, the effect of such sport may be calamitous. One Presently, as 'Le Grand Bavard' so ably reported, there came a time when this playing began to be serious even for Messieurs les Diplomates. Various reasons were assigned for the difference of opinion that inevitably arose. One, unwisely, granted an interview. The other retorted, in print, and the echo of that utterance, Dieu sait pourquoi, made a considerable noise in unexpected quarters. It was a rather banal utterance. The power of thought thereby exhibited might justly have the question. You will remember the sensation that was caused by the brief announcement that an impasse had been reached which seemed quite impossible of solution. Notes passed between the respective Governments. On either side of the Channel a certain section of the Press became rabid in frenzied appeals to the unwashed mob in an effort to arouse public opinion. We have seen the same phenomenon before. It is true that such appeals, intended primarily to increase circulation, have but little influence on the decisions of diplomats, although the biassed opinions thus presented to the unthinking are often a useful preliminary in persuading large numbers of them to go forth to be shot. One realises also that most of this outcry, demanding that the diplomats stand fast for the sake of their respective countries, was quite unnecessary. These gentlemen, having their own affairs to think about, were firmly bound to their opposite decisions. Nothing could move them from their respective positions short of the removal of themselves from the offices which they so ably held. Prefect of Police, a gentleman you have previously met in connection with the famous Affair Mouchard. I introduce also a number of gentlemen collectively considered-the Société des Amis de la République Française, an organisation whose activities, no doubt, are known to you. These are the two factors. With some timidity, alors, at last I call attention to myself, although in this business I had but a little part. You will recognise that, with the exception of my modest self, all other actors in this little play have a single quality in common. In their various ways they are all intensely, almost offensively, conservative. Whatever their private convictions, whatever politically they may believe or expound, by no possibility could one find any of them sitting on the left. And this is true, as truth may sometimes be a paradox, even in the case of Messieurs les Diplomates, who, both French and English, loudly asserted that they were Socialists, but who, by the nature of their Conservative convictions, leaned with a sharp tilting toward the right. Therefore, they had no difficulty whatever in finding certain bonds of sympathy between themselves and the gentlemen of the Society of Friends of the French Republic. They, as you know, are for the most part Royalists, the fascisti of France, who have as the first object of their association the I introduce M. Forgeron, overthrow of the Republic; We must now consider two other factors that enter the problem, without relation to the world of diplomacy, nevertheless important because a pathway out of the impasse would have been impossible except for them.. and second, the preservation munard is the uncouth rhetoric of France from many evils of Attila, the Hun, whose arguwhich, they feel, would over- ment, all bluntly, was just take our country should the this: "Give all, lest I require Socialists gain power enough also life from you!" And to put their theories into de- who, when all was given, in structive practice. mere jest often took life as well, because blood-spilling appeals to a primitive sense of humour. Logic, mes amis, is wasted on such men. On this point Socialists and Royalists find themselves quite in agreement. Paradox? No, mes amis, but consider this! First, the name of that distinguished Society: to overthrow the Republic would that not be a friendly act? Both Royalists and Socialists have thought so. Socialists look to the aristocracy to supply them with all their most telling arguments in their appeal to ignorance and greed. Therefore all aristocrats are useful to them. Both aristocrats and Socialists are alike in seeking to lead the people by the nose. They are alike in their contempt for either sans culotte or bourgeoisie. Also, to whom should the fascisti look if not to the Socialists of the right to stand between themselves and the dangerous communards, impossible people as one knows, who state quite frankly that loot and destruction are their aim-savages with whom it is unsafe to enter into any kind of political combination. They have no conception of the science of politics, those fellows. Their methods are not the methods of either sound Socialists or the diplomats who have faith in talk, and who, like gentlemanly highwaymen, demand a purse most courteously, even though their courtesy is a kerchief covering a gun. No, the diplomacy of the com It becomes understandable, then, how, as a matter of courtesy between enemies on the field who are friends behind pavilion curtains, this English diplomat should receive an invitation to address the members of the famous conservative association, "Les Amis de la République Française." The invitation was a beau geste on the part of the Society by which they honoured both themselves and the famous man. The English diplomat accepted graciously. One may suspect that he welcomed this opportunity to display his oratorical ability in French, the natural language of diplomacy-a language which, being master of his trade, Monsieur le Diplomate spoke with fluency and great assurance. Seeking, then, a subject of the greatest common interest, he chose as the title of his discourse "The European Menace," by which he made reference to certain Radical doctrines which threaten the control of Europe by England and France. Enters now M. Forgeron, a figure in the background, who in his métier as Prefect of Police had of necessity been informed of the intended meeting. For all that follows one must not censure him. He did his duty as he has always done. Quite in the usual course of such procedure there were appointed, possibly by a subordinate, three policemen of a kind to attend the meeting. They were expected to do the usual thing, purely formal. That is, one of them would give perfunctory attention to the speech, while the others, by a private arrangement, took their ease in the back room of an adjacent café. There would be, then, a report to be filed in a dossier with a thousand other similar reports, and there conveniently forgotten. Hélas, mes amis, that public servants take so little interest in the destiny of the country which they serve! These men, whom one admits were loyal, faithful, but indeed somewhat stupid, were given the number where the meeting would be held; the name of the presiding Society, which was meaningless to them; the name of the speaker, who was to them as any other of a million Englishmen; also the title of the address, and this, as they had been casually conscious of a European menace for quite ten years, had ceased to have any significance. There were, then, the three of them, all of the same type of mind, although one of these policemen was short and fat, one was tall and lean, and one was chiefly distinguished by a magnificent black beard. M. Forgeron, who was responsible for their every action, little reckoned the difficulties that diplomacy and his policemen would prepare for him. Imagine it now: the night of the speech arrives. There gathers a numerous and fairly intelligent audience, including most of the Royalist intellectuals of Paris, who bring their women with them, so that the odour of scent in the heated salle de réunion presently becomes overpowering. There are many gentlemen of the Press, anxious only that the English diplomat should make some startling faux pas that would deliver him into their hands, or, failing this, would say something worth printing in regard to the impasse into which diplomacy had so ignobly toppled. The platform was banked with flowers and draped with intertwined French and British flags, for this was an occasion of importance, you understand. One could add a description of the very dignified English diplomat who, clothed in garb of ceremony, presently appeared upon the platform bowing to a thunder of applause, but even here one one must preserve his thinly veiled anonymity. To be impartial, one must not forget the bearded agent de police, chosen by lot among his comrades for this distasteful duty, who strolled aimlessly up and down the foyer, denied even the consolation of a cigar |