# Littell's Living Age/Volume 162/Issue 2093/The Prince of Orange

Originally published in The Saturday Review.
The death of the Prince of Orange has served to remind the world of the complicated nature of the relations between the different States of Europe. Little seems to have been known of the prince himself, even in his own country. He was a man of a retiring disposition, and supposed to have scientific tastes. It is so much the rule that a prince who lives a quiet life should be credited with the most remarkable scientific, artistic, or literary genius, that the stories told about the heir to the crown of the Netherlands may possibly have been nothing but gossip. We have, however, M. Renan's word for it that the scientific curiosity of the late Prince of Orange was something more than what is commonly called by that name, — a kindly taste for animal pets, and a certain readiness to pick up such kinds of useful information as can be learned at second hand without trouble, and with occasional help from the milder forms of magic in the shape of experiments. Beyond this vague reputation for intelligence and love of knowledge, the prince has been made the subject of a good deal of personal and scandalous tittle-tattle with which healthy-minded people will have as little as possible to do. This gossip has, however, never contained anything which reflected either upon his honor or his kindliness. If there was no reason to suppose that the prince would have become a ruler of any vigor, neither was there anything to show that he would have failed in the discharge of the duties of a constitutional sovereign.
The death of the Prince of Orange has attracted particular attention because he was the last male of the Orange line of the house of Nassau. It will become extinct with his father, the present king of the Netherlands. The present royal family of Holland are not indeed the direct representatives of the great Princes of Orange of the family of Nassau who did such wonderful things in war and politics for more than a century and a half. It is even only by a family custom that they continued to use the name of Orange at all. The principality was resumed by Louis XIV., and the title passed legally to the first king of Prussia. Nevertheless the Dutch branch of the Nassaus were in a general way the representatives of William the Silent, if not by strict descent, at least in public opinion, and no other branch of the family will ever, again be able to call itself by the famous name of Orange Nassau.
Although, however, there is a very respectable kind of regret felt among people of any knowledge and intelligence when a great family comes to an end, it was not only because he was the last of his house that the death of the Prince of Orange was a political event. There was a general feeling that the want of a male heir to the king of the Netherlands might possibly cause a dispute over the succession. The kingdom of the Netherlands was created by an arrangement among the great powers of Europe after the abdication of the emperor Napoleon at Fontainebleau, with the intention that it should be a barrier against any future attempt of the French to resume his policy, if an insane love of war and personal aggrandizement can be called by that name. With this object the powers made an artificial kingdom of the Netherlands, including Belgium, which fell to pieces within twenty years. But although the powers were compelled to see their handiwork destroyed, they were far from consenting to give up their right of control over the fragments of the barrier raised against France. The position both of Belgium and the Netherlands has consequently been settled by treaty, and cannot be modified without common consent. In the case of the latter the question is complicated by the fact that the different States now ruled by the same king descend by a different rule of inheritance. In the grand duchy of Luxembourg the Salic law prevails, and it must be separated from the crown of Holland on the death of the present king, whose only surviving child is a daughter. There will then be considerable difficulty in deciding as to who is really entitled to the duchy, and with the help of a little good will a very pretty quarrel on the subject may be got up between France and Germany. Neither is the way very clear as regards Holland itself. It is true that, as the Salic law does not exist there, the throne will descend quietly enough to the present king's daughter. But if she should die young, a very considerable difficulty will present itself for settlement. Failing a direct representative of the king, his heir must either be the Count of Nassau, the representative of the elder and German line of the family who was deprived of his territory by Prussia in 1866, or else a gentle man at present colonel in the German army who descends from the Princes of Orange by marriage. If it were perfectly certain that the Dutch would be left to settle the matter for themselves no anxiety need be felt on the subject. They would choose one of the two candidates, or perhaps they would choose neither, but simply fall back on the old republican form of government, or some imitation of it. There is, however, a possibility that the Dutch might not be left to settle it for themselves. Since the publication of the shameless proposals for the robbery of Belgium made in the name of Napoleon III. to Prussia there has always been a fear that some fine day Germany and France might settle their little differences at the expense of a third party. That third party would naturally be the Low Countries, Belgian and Dutch; and then England at least would find its position in Europe materially altered. With a disputed succession in Holland, the temptation to make some brigand-like arrangement would, it is supposed, become very strong — so strong as to be irresistible.
It would be rash to assert that anything is impossible in European politics; but a person must be afflicted with nerves of a most painful sensibility if he is disturbed by a prospect of this sort. Nothing can be more certain than that no kind of sentimentality or moral sublime will be allowed to stand in the way of the interests of Germany by Prince Bismarck, or by any statesman trained in his school. He knows that sentimentality leads to desertions of garrisons and then to needless slaughter, and that the moral sublime commonly ends in sending round the hat. If, therefore, the interests of Germany ever become incompatible with the independence of Holland, there is no need to point out what is likely to be the consequence. There is no reason to suppose that any such incompatibility will be discovered, and until it is Germany will be as little likely to attack Holland as any other power. The history of the last thirteen years shows that the statesman who governs the German Empire is not likely to be guilty of the folly of encouraging war for war's sake. He has gained whatever was essential by fighting, and can now afford to seek peace and ensue it; and, if Germany does not attack Holland, who will? The Dutch will certainly not be disturbed at the mostly imaginary dangers before them, and they must be very destitute of a sense of the ridiculous if they do not laugh at the solemn tone of the Parisian papers, which condole with them on the risks run by the freedom of their country. They know very well who it was who offered to divide the Low Countries by way of general settlement, and with whom. They also know what has happened to Tonquin, Tunis, Madagascar, and Morocco since then; and, lastly, they know well that Germany has not touched a square inch of anybody's land since its victory.