re, we
may reply, than French republicans with the subjects of the Czar. In
truth both of these alliances rest, not on whole-hearted regard or
affection, but on fear and on the compulsion which it exerts.

To this fact we may, perhaps, largely attribute the _malaise_ of Europe.
The Greek philosopher Empedocles looked on the world as the product of
two all-pervading forces, love and hate, acting on blind matter: love
brought cognate particles together and held them in union; hate or
repulsion kept asunder the unlike or hostile elements. We may use the
terms of this old cosmogony in reference to existing political
conditions, and assert that these two elemental principles have drawn
Europe apart into two hostile masses; with this difference, that the
allies for the most part are held together, not so much by mutual regard
as by hatred of their opposites. From this somewhat sweeping statement
we must mark off one exception. There were two allies who came together
with the ease which betokens a certain amount of affinity. Thanks to the
statesmanlike moderation of Bismarck after Koeniggraetz, Austria willingly
entered into a close compact with her former rival. At least that was
the feeling among the Germans and Magyars of the Dual Monarchy. The
Austro-German alliance, it may be predicted, will hold good while the
Dual Monarchy exists in its present form; but even in that case fear of
Russia is the one great binding force where so much else is centrifugal.
If ever the Empire of the Czar should lose its prestige, possibly the
two Central Powers would drift apart.

Although there are signs of weakness in both alliances, they will
doubtless remain standing as long as the need which called them into
being remains. Despite all the efforts made on both sides, the military
and naval resources of the two great leagues are approximately equal. In
one respect, and in one alone, Europe has benefited from these
well-matched efforts. The uneasy truce that has been dignified by the
name of peace since the year 1878 results ultimately from the fact that
war will involve the conflict of enormous citizen armies of nearly
equal strength.

So it has come to this, that in an age when the very conception of
Christendom has vanished, and ideal principles have been well-nigh
crushed out of life by the pressure of material needs, peace again
depends on the once-derided principle of the balance of power. That it
should be so is distressing to all