I was in Constantinople shortly before the outbreak of war, and while there had a lengthy discussion of the political situation with the Markgraf Pallavicini, our most efficient and far-seeing ambassador there. He looked upon the situation as being extremely grave. Aided by his experience of a decade of political observations, he was able to put his finger on the pulse of Europe, and his diagnosis was as follows: that if a rapid change in the entire course of events did not intervene, we were making straight for war. He explained to me that he considered the only possibility of evading a war with Russia lay in our definitely renouncing all claims to influence in the Balkans and leaving the field to Russia. Pallavicini was quite clear in his own mind that such a course would mean our resigning the status of a Great Power; but apparently to him even so bitter a proceeding as that was preferable to the war which he saw was impending. Shortly afterwards I repeated this conversation to the Archduke and heir, Franz Ferdinand, and saw that he was deeply impressed by the pessimistic views of Pallavicini, of whom, like everyone else, he had a very high opinion. The Archduke promised to discuss the question as soon as possible with the Emperor. I never saw him again. That was the last conversation I had with him, and I do not know whether he ever carried out his intention of discussing the matter with the monarch. The two Balkan wars were as summer lightning before the coming European thunderstorm. It was obvious to anyone acquainted with Balkan conditions that the peace there had produced no definite result, and the Peace of Bucharest in 1913, so enthusiastically acclaimed by Roumania, carried the germ of death at its birth. Bulgaria was humiliated and reduced; Roumania and, above all, Serbia, enlarged out of all proportion, were arrogant to a degree that baffles description. Albania, as the apple of discord between Austria-Hungary and Italy, was a factor that gave no promise of relief, but only of fresh wars. In order to understand the excessive hatred prevailing between the separate nations, one must have lived in the Balkans. When this hatred came to an outburst in the world war the most terrible scenes were enacted, and as an example it was notorious that the Roumanians tore their Bulgarian prisoners to pieces with their teeth, and that the Bulgarians, on their part, tortured the Roumanian prisoners to death in the most shocking manner. The brutality of the Serbians in the war can best be described by our own troops. The Emperor Francis Joseph clearly foresaw that the peace after the second Balkan war was merely a respite to draw breath before a new war. Prior to my departure for Bucharest in 1913 I was received in audience by the aged emperor, who said to me: "The Peace of Bucharest is untenable, and we are faced by a new war. God grant that it may be confined to the Balkans." Serbia, which had been enlarged to double its size, was far from being