he added, "we shall have
that war with France anyhow."

"_War with France in Two Years_"

I expressed my surprise at this prediction,--a prediction all the more
surprising to me when I again recalled that the great statesman,
carrying on his shoulders such tremendous responsibilities, was
talking to an entire stranger,--and his tone grew quite serious,
grave, almost solemn, as he said: "Do not believe that I love war. I
have seen enough of war to abhor it profoundly. The terrible scenes I
have witnessed will never cease to haunt my mind. I shall never
consent to a war that is avoidable, much less seek it. But this war
with France will surely come. It will be forced upon us by the French
Emperor. I see that clearly."

Then he went on to explain how the situation of an "adventurer on a
throne," such as Louis Napoleon, was different from that of a
legitimate sovereign, like the King of Prussia. "I know," said he with
a smile, "you do not believe in such a thing as the divine right of
kings. But many people do, especially in Prussia--perhaps not as many
as did before 1848, but even now more than you think. People are
attracted to the dynasty by traditional loyalty. A King of Prussia may
make mistakes or suffer misfortunes, or even humiliations, but that
traditional loyalty will not give way. But the adventurer on the
throne has no such traditional sentiment behind him. His security
depends upon personal prestige, and that prestige upon sensational
effects which must follow one another in rather rapid succession to
remain fresh and satisfactory to the ambition, or the pride, or, if
you will, the vanity of the people--especially to such a people as the
French.

"Now, Louis Napoleon has lost much of his prestige by two things--the
Mexican adventure, which was an astounding blunder, a fantastic folly
on his part; and then by permitting Prussia to become so great without
obtaining some sort of 'compensation' in the way of an acquisition of
territory that might have been made to appear to the French people as
a brilliant achievement of his diplomacy. It was well known that he
wanted such a compensation, and tried for it, and was manoeuvered out
of it by me without his knowledge of what was happening to him. He is
well aware that thus he has lost much of his prestige, more than he
can afford, and that such a loss, unless soon repaired, may become
dangerous to his tenure as emperor. He will, therefore, as soon as he
thinks