… We have often enough declared that we never mean to attack England. Does any one imagine that a prudent nation will trust to such words when it comes to a question for her of to be or not to be? What is it those Britons see who have been following with interest for twenty years the events which have taken place in our country? A steady and continuous increase of armaments; a fleet born and growing each year more and more rapidly; a ruler who is restlessly active—now in the saddle, now on the captain’s bridge; his palace only used for sleeping. Wherever the Kaiser goes his forces are in the forefront. Exercises, manœuvres, mobilization of the fleet, war games, conferences, and speeches quickly follow one another. His speeches refer oftener than needful to the grip of the sword, and at the same time he sedulously endeavours to negotiate personally with his neighbouring States. Such things as the Kruger telegram and the expedition to Tangiers look like froth, but they really hide personal wishes and inclinations. Thus do the English see us. What can they, what must they think of it all? We are grown to be neighbours and yet we arm and arm. Our trade is protected, and for offensive purposes a fleet will arouse little sympathy. Have not both Holland and Belgium a large trade and yet no one thinks of wresting it from them. Against what is Germany arming if not against England’s command of the sea? Must not every Englishman think so? Has not their mistrust been fostered by our policy, by the utterances of our men of mark, by the opinions of our Press, and last but not least by the propaganda of our Navy League? How can a clear-headed people like the English entertain friendly feelings for us in view of these evident proofs of our mistrust? We have driven England into the Double Alliance. “He who is not with me is against me.” Should we not do exactly the same? We carry on a sentimental policy, play the injured party, whilst suspicion prevents us from being open-minded. The German Empire ought therefore only to have a fleet sufficient for her real needs, able to defend her coasts, to act as maritime police in the areas of smaller States, and to perform convoy duty for our troop-ships to our colonies. A larger fleet is in fact either a luxury or it is directed against England. Such logic is inexorable. For our centre of gravity—otherwise than is the case with England—lies at home. We are not dependent on the importation of foodstuffs; the 5 per cent. of what is not grown on our own soil must be sacrificed in war.