“Oh, no, no; first read it, and then express your opinion. The author is said to be at The Hague.” “The author is sitting next you.” As so often happens, Señora Perez had missed my name when we were introduced. Bloch gives a small dinner at the Hotel Royal. After dinner we drive to his third lecture. Subject, “Naval Warfare.” The fate of wars is decided not at sea but on land. Between two evenly matched fleets there will be no decisive victory, but mutual destruction of the fleets. The impossibility of protecting marine commerce in times of war. Comparison of the expenses for the fleet with the value of commerce; the pretended protection costs a hundred times more than the worth of what is protected. Count Nigra sits near me. Bloch’s deductions greatly interest him. We speak of the results to be expected. “The world finds it hard to understand,” said Nigra, “how momentous are the foundations here being laid for the building of the future; nor does it understand that the calling of the Conference is in itself an event of supreme importance.” During the intermission an alarming rumor circulates, to the effect that in the debate about the court of arbitration the “dead point” was reached,—a decisive opposition on the part of one of the great powers. June 12. During the morning our quiet excursion in celebration of our twenty-third wedding anniversary. In the evening a few guests at dinner,—Bihourd, the French ambassador at The Hague, Captain Sheïn, of the Russian navy, Léon Bourgeois, Bloch, and Theodor Herzl. I hardly ever had a more interesting table companion than Bourgeois. What made our conversation so particularly enjoyable was our complete agreement in matters concerning peace. The former—and perhaps the future, who knows?—French Premier is enthusiastic for the objects of the Conference. The task which he has to fulfill here seems to him far more productive and important than the formation of a cabinet. In Paris a ministerial crisis is at hand and Bourgeois will probably be recalled; but he firmly intends to return so as to bring to an end to the best of his ability the work here, “which promises to be useful to the world and at the same time to his fatherland.” We talk among other things of the French national press. I regret the hectoring tone, especially in that portion of the press which the people at large read. “That is not so bad,” he replies. “Nowhere else do the people—especially the workingmen—read the newspapers so much as with us; but they have no faith in them. The French laborer buys a newspaper, reads it, chatters about it, but doesn’t pin his faith to it. His mind is open, awake, and he is thirsty for everything that is free and upright. Race hatred disgusts him. I know what is thought in the workingmen’s circles, for I myself come from them.” I ask him about the “dead point” in the arbitration question. “I cannot say anything just now,” is his reply, “but be assured—nothing will be left untried.”