defenders of the Treaty have remained singularly apathetic. Most of them have failed to perceive that this controversy is by no means merely academic, and that, if such attacks remain unanswered, public opinion in Allied countries, including America, will be unprepared, and perhaps even divided, should Germany raise the question again on the occasion, for instance, of the payment of the heavier annuities fixed by the Experts' Report.

The best way to approach the problem, in its general aspect, is perhaps to compare the popular point of view concerning the origin of the war as it was in 1914 and as it is to-day. In August, 1914, the facts seemed plain enough. The five great European Powers had pledged themselves in 1839 to respect the neutrality of Belgium. On the initiative of the British Government, this pledge was renewed in 1870. France remained faithful to this promise; Germany and Austria broke it. By rejecting the German ultimatum, delivered on August 2nd, King Albert's Government obeyed the letter as well as the spirit of the treaty. Great Britain had no alternative but to vindicate Belgium's rights. The conflict did not then appear to be a struggle between two rival groups of Powers. The Balkan issue was overshadowed by the Western issue, and the ultimatum to Serbia by the ultimatum to Belgium. Public opinion was incensed by the contemptuous way in which Germany treated an international engagement as a scrap of paper." It was enough to post up the facsimile of the treaty all over the country to bring thousands of volunteers to Lord Kitchener's army. The conflict was simplified and reduced to a fight of right against might and to the defence of international compacts, which were considered to be at the very basis of modern civilisation, against the unwarranted aggression of barbarism.

To-day the facts appear far more involved. While some people have preserved their 1914 outlook, many more have gradually been led to alter it. The invasion of Belgium is no longer considered to be the principal cause of the war, but merely a subsidiary incident which hastened the entry of Great Britain into the struggle. Most present-day writers dismiss the events of August 2nd with a few words and concentrate their attention on the fateful days of July, when the future of Europe hung in the balance. They consider that the cause of the conflict must be sought in the revival of nationalism in the Balkans, involving the gradual breaking-up of the dual monarchy, and in the rivalry

of interests and armaments between the two groups of Powers struggling for hegemony in Europe. They go still further afield, and explore diplomatic history to discover the origin of the Triple Entente and explain how France, Russia and Great Britain were gradually estranged from Germany, the first through the loss of Alsace-Lorraine, the second through Austro-Russian antagonism in the Balkans, and the third through maritime competition.

In the opening chapters of "These Eventful Years," Mr. Garvin skilfully traces the origin of the war back to the year 1894, the defeat of China by Japan bringing about the Russo-Japanese war for supremacy in the Far East, and Russia's failure to achieve her aim in that direction compelling her to resume her former policy of expansion towards Constantinople and the Straits. Though the responsibility of the Central Empires, in provoking a conflagration in 1914, is still generally acknowledged, the initiative they took at the time appears more and more like the spark which fired the powder-magazine. Nothing is more symptomatic of this new attitude of mind than the speech delivered by Lord Grey of Fallodon, in Newcastle, on November 15th last, in which he declared that he now saw, what he had not seen in 1914, that war was inevitable. "I have come to the conclusion," he said, "that, whatever may have been the guilt of Germany for bringing about the war that year, what made war really inevitable was the growth of armaments." If these words are compared with those of the same statesman in the House of Commons on August 3, 1914, it will be realised how important is the change of outlook which has occurred in this country in the last decade. The war is no longer considered as the deliberate action of the Central Powers to insure their supremacy in Europe by sheer force, without any regard for their international obligations, and without any respect for the independence of smaller States; it is rather looked upon as the fatal and unavoidable result of the policy pursued by all the Great Powers since the beginning of the century. It is no longer considered as an international crime or a challenge to civilisation, but as an almost natural phenomenon, such as a landslide or an earthquake, which no human foresight or statesmanship could have prevented.

Before examining how far this more or less fatalistic attitude of mind is justified, it may be useful to consider the various

reasons which have contributed to alter public opinion on the subject.

The main reason is, perhaps, that some features of the situation, so abruptly brought about in 1914, were unknown or imperfectly known in Allied countries. The importance of the Belgian issue was considerably lessened when people realised that, without being bound to support France, Great Britain could not long have remained indifferent to the struggle, even if Germany had not violated Belgian neutrality. The knowledge that, as early as 1911, the British War Office had contemplated the eventual transfer of a large expeditionary force to the continent confirmed this belief. As the war developed, it became more and more evident that the British Empire was not merely fighting for the vindication of international law, but for very life. It was soon perceived also that if the Allies were to obtain the support of other nations they would be compelled to bind themselves by territorial promises which did not always agree with their war aims. Germany had secured the help of Turkey as early as November, 1914, and succeeded in enlisting Bulgaria in July, 1915. In the same year a treaty was signed in London by the representatives of the Allies and of Italy, granting important territorial concessions to the latter Power. A similar treaty was signed in 1916, at Bucharest, which secured the co-operation of Rumania by promising her full satisfaction with regard to Transylvania and Bukowina. In 1917, the Powers recognised Japan's claims in Shantung and the German islands in the Pacific. The partition of Turkey was the subject of no less than three agreements between the Allies: the Paléologue-Sasonov and Sykes-Picot conventions of 1916, and the Saint-Jean-de-Maurienne agreement of 1917. Thus the freedom of the Allies in the conclusion of a final settlement became more and more hampered by a series of open and secret treaties concluded among themselves or with new adherents.

Popular faith in the disinterestedness of the struggle was further shaken by the peace negotiations. Some favoured a strong peace, including the punishment of the German Emperor and of such of his counsellors as were considered to be mainly responsible. They claimed adequate military guarantees against a recurrence of German aggression and adequate compensation for the damage wrought. Others favoured President Wilson's

policy and declared themselves satisfied with a moderate indemnity and the foundation of the League of Nations, all territorial claims having to be tested on the principle of unhampered selfdetermination. The result was a compromise, in which some legitimate demands did not receive satisfaction, while idealistic principles were frequently infringed. The deplorable discussion over reparations which, for four years, divided the Allies, added to the general disappointment. Instead of attempting to fix

responsibility where it belongs, many people lost all sense of the proportion between the crime committed in 1914 and the mistakes made in recent years, and many of those who had enthusiastically defended the Allied cause declared that the issue had been entirely blurred by post-war events, and even began to doubt whether the responsibility for the war lay as heavily on the Central Empires as they had formerly believed.

Such doubts and hesitations were skilfully exploited, in France as well as in England, by a small group of publicists who had never ceased to describe Germany as the victim of international injustice. They ransacked the diplomatic archives of pre-war days and the more or less trustworthy revelations of certain personages who had played a prominent part in European negotiations during the last twenty years, in order to prove that some Russian and French statesmen were eagerly expecting the outbreak of war. The most informal conversations were misrepresented as aggressive alliances, and the most elementary precautions as a dark and cunning plot. Some exaggerations of early Allied propaganda were exposed as the most convincing proof that public good faith had been betrayed. It had been stated that the Entente was unprepared for the struggle. This was evidently true of Great Britain with regard to military preparations, and it was also true of France, as far as an attack through Belgium was concerned. It was also true, to a certain extent, with regard to French and Russian war material. But, as far as sheer numbers were concerned, it could easily be shown that neither the French nor the Russian Governments had neglected defensive measures. The defenders of Germany, making great play of statistics, declared that the Entente was better prepared than Germany and Austria, and ought therefore to share their responsibility. The campaign launched by the late E. D. Morel exerted a considerable influence, especially in

Labour circles, while the supposed exposure of Allied diplomacy in pre-war days, of which the publication of Tirpitz's "revelations" and George Louis' notebooks are the most recent manifestations, puzzled the general public, which is frequently more interested in the attack than in the defence.

An historian, writing on the causes of the war twenty or fifty years hence, would very likely be led to the conclusion that both the 1914 and the 1924 outlooks were strangely exaggerated. No doubt, at the outbreak of the war, the Belgian question assumed a somewhat excessive importance in this country; but this error is scarcely rectified to-day by those who ignore the Western issue to consider the Balkan problem alone. In the same way, it may have been inaccurate to state that all the Allies, including those nations which joined in the struggle at a later stage, were equally animated by generous motives; but this inaccuracy can hardly be said to be corrected by those who refuse to see any difference between the attitude of Great Britain, France and Belgium and that of Germany, Austria and Turkey. Again, those who formerly accused Germany of having deliberately plotted the 1914 outbreak since 1870 may have had an imperfect knowledge of Bismarck's policy and of the hope entertained after his fall, in certain German quarters, of realising Germany's expansion by purely pacific means. But those who consider that the explosion was unavoidable, owing to military and naval competition or to any other cause, seem to wander still further from the truth.

When he studies the first years of this century, the historian of the future will doubtless consider that the nations of the world found themselves on the threshold of a new era. All through the nineteenth century, powerful forces had been at work pointing towards a general conflict. But other forces, no less powerful, had been preparing an age of peace. Owing to her central position in Europe and to her undeniable military superiority, if not over all combinations of rival Powers, at any rate over most combinations, it was left to Germany to choose between these two great tendencies.

A competition in armaments can never be considered as the real cause of an international conflict, this competition being merely the result of a certain policy. When the part played by the various Powers during the years which preceded the conflict is carefully examined, the question of armaments cannot be