The Liberal Government came into office in the autumn of 1905. Ministers can hardly have had time to master the contents of their various portfolios, before German aggression burst rudely in upon them. Conceivably the too carefully calculating diplomatists of Berlin had concluded, that the principles of the new Cabinet would tend to keep England neutral under any provocation, and that a heaven-sent opportunity had therefore arrived for proceeding with the first item in their programme by crushing France. It is a highly significant fact that early in 1906, only a few months after Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman's advent to power, he found himself faced with the prospect of a European war, which was only averted when our Foreign Minister made it clear to Germany, that in such an event this country would range herself upon the side of France.[1] {280} This was the _first_ warning. [Sidenote: THE SECOND WARNING] The British answer to it was to utter renewed protestations Of friendly confidence. As an earnest of our good intentions, the shipbuilding programme[2] of the previous Government was immediately reduced. The burden of armaments became the burden of innumerable speeches. In well-chosen words Germany was coaxed and cajoled to acquiesce in our continued command of the sea; but finding in our action or inaction an opportunity for challenging it, she turned a polite ear--but a deaf one--and pushed forward her preparations with redoubled speed. In vain did we on our part slow down work at our new naval base in the Firth of Forth. In vain did we reduce our slender army to even smaller dimensions.[3] In vain did we plead disinterestedly with Germany, for a reduction in the pace of competition in naval armaments, on the terms that we should be allowed to possess a fleet nearly twice as strong as her own. For the most part, during this period, official Germany remained discreetly silent, for the reason that silence served her purpose best; but when the persistency of our entreaties made some sort of {281} answer necessary, we were given to understand by unofficial Germany--rather roughly and gruffly--that a certain class of requests was inadmissible as between gentlemen. Then suddenly, having up to that time lulled ourselves into the belief that our fine words had actually succeeded in buttering parsnips, we awoke--in the late autumn of 1908--to the truth, and fell immediately into a fit of panic. Panic increased during the winter and following spring, and culminated during the summer, in an Imperial Defence Conference with the Dominions.