[1] This is similar to the manner in which the English entente with France was arranged. The British Parliament and the British Cabinet were kept in ignorance of the fact that English and French naval experts were consulting together. The British Minister for Foreign Affairs, Sir Edward Grey, repeatedly assured the country that Great Britain's hands were free. Yet, when the crisis came, this quite unofficial exchange of military views and plans, this mere gentleman's agreement, revealed itself, of course, as a binding obligation. Nations do not reveal their military secrets to each other except on the clear understanding that an alliance is in force.

[2] The report of Sir Edward Goschen, British Ambassador to Berlin, on the severance of diplomatic connections between England and Germany, was published by the British Foreign Office as a "White Paper" on Aug. 27, 1914. Sir Edward said that in pursuance of instructions from Downing Street, he went on Aug. 3 to see Gottlieb von Jagow, the German Foreign Minister, and asked if Germany would promise to respect Belgian neutrality. Herr von Jagow replied that it was too late, as German troops had already crossed the Belgian border, and explained the military necessity of this step.

After remonstrance, Sir Edward withdrew, but made another visit the same afternoon and warned von Jagow that unless the German Government at once withdrew its troops from Belgian soil he must demand his passports. Herr von Jagow repeated that withdrawal was impossible; and, seeing that war was now certain, expressed his deep regret at the failure of the policy by which he and the Chancellor, Dr. von Bethmann-Hollweg, had been trying to get into more friendly relations with England and through her with France.

The Ambassador, after mutual expressions of personal regard, withdrew and visited the Imperial Chancellor, who, according to Sir Edward's story, "began a harangue, which lasted about twenty minutes. Just for a word, 'neutrality'—a word which in war was so often disregarded—just for a scrap of paper, Great Britain was going to make war on a kindred nation. The policy to which he had devoted himself had tumbled like a house of cards. What Great Britain had done was unthinkable—it was like striking a man in the back when he was fighting for his life against two assailants."

Sir Edward said that he protested strongly against this and told the Chancellor that, while an advance through Belgium might be a matter of life and death for Germany, the defense of Belgian neutrality, in compliance with her solemn engagement, was a matter of life and death for the honor of Great Britain.

"The Chancellor said," Sir Edward continued: "'But at what a price will that compact have been kept! Has the British Government thought of that?' I hinted to his Excellency as plainly as I could that fear of consequences could hardly be regarded as an excuse for breaking a solemn engagement. But his Excellency was so excited, so little disposed to hear reason, so evidently overcome by the news of our action, that I refrained from adding fuel to the flame by further argument."

[3] In his address at Cardiff, appearing in Vol. 1, No. 2, of The New York Times Current History, Premier Asquith said: