What passed at Potsdam between the Emperor and his Chancellor has not transpired. Naturally there are various accounts of it, one of them representing the Emperor as flying into a passion and for long refusing to give the required guarantees; but as yet none of them has been authenticated. It should not be difficult to imagine the mental attitudes of the two men on the occasion, and especially not difficult to imagine the sensations of the Emperor, a Prussian King, on being impeached by a people—his people—for whom, his feeling would be, he had done so much, and in whose best interests he felt convinced he had acted; but whatever occurred, it ended in the Emperor bowing before the storm and giving the assurances required.
The Chancellor's countenance and expressions on his return to Berlin showed that his mission had been successful, and there was great satisfaction in the capital and country. The text of these assurances, which was published in the Official Gazette the same evening, was as follows:
"His Majesty, while unaffected by public criticism which he regards as exaggerated, considers his most honourable imperial task to consist in securing the stability of the policy of the Empire while adhering to the principle of constitutional responsibility. The Kaiser accordingly endorses the statements of the Imperial Chancellor in Parliament, and assures Prince von Bülow of his continued confidence."
After returning to Berlin, Prince Bülow gave in the Reichstag his impatiently awaited account of the result of his mission, and made what defence he could of his imperial master's action in allowing the famous interview to be published. Before giving the speech, which was delivered on November 10, 1908, it will be as well to quote the five interpellations introduced in Parliament on the subject, as showing the unanimity of feeling that existed in all parts of the House:—
1. By Deputy Bassermann (leader of the National Liberals):
"Is the Chancellor prepared to take constitutional responsibility for the publication of a series of utterances of his Majesty the Kaiser in the Daily Telegraph and the facts communicated therein?"
2. By Deputy Dr. Ablass (Progressive Party):
"Through the publication of utterances of the German Kaiser in the Daily Telegraph, and through the communication of the real facts in the Norddeutsche Allgemeine Zeitung caused by the Chancellor, matters have become known which demonstrate serious short-comings in the treatment of foreign affairs, and are calculated to influence unfavourably the relations of the German Empire to other Powers. What does the Chancellor propose to do to devise a remedy and to give full effect to the responsibility attributed to him by the Constitution of the German Empire?"
3. By Deputy Albrecht (Socialist):
"What is the Chancellor prepared to do to prevent such occurrences as have become known through the Daily Telegraph's communications regarding acts and utterances of the German Kaiser?"
4. By Deputy von Norman (Conservative Party):
"Is the Chancellor prepared to submit further information regarding the circumstances which led to the publication of utterances of his Majesty the Kaiser in the English Press?"
5. By Prince von Hatzfeldt and Freiherr von Gamp (Imperial Party—Conservative):
"Is the Chancellor willing to take precautions that such occurrences as that brought to light by the publication in the Daily Telegraph shall not recur?"
In reply to the interpellations Prince von Bülow said:—
"Gentlemen, I shall not apply myself to every point which has just been raised by previous speakers. I have to consider the effect of my words abroad, and will not add to the great harm already caused by the publication in the Daily Telegraph (hear, hear, on the Left and Socialists).
"In reply to the interpellations submitted, I have to declare as follows:—
"His Majesty the Kaiser has at different times, and to different private English personalities, made private utterances which, linked together, have been published in the Daily Telegraph. I must suppose that not all details of the utterances have been correctly reproduced (hear, hear, on the Right). One I know is not correct: that is the story about the plan of campaign (hear, hear, on the right). The plan in question was not a field campaign worked out in detail, but a purely academic (laughter among the Socialists)—Gentlemen, we are engaged in a serious discussion. The matters on which I speak are of an earnest kind and of great political importance—be good enough to listen to me quietly: I will be as brief as possible. I repeat therefore: the matter is not concerned with a field campaign worked out in detail, but with certain purely academic thoughts—I believe they were expressly described as 'aphorisms'—about the conduct of war in general, which the Kaiser communicated in his interchange of correspondence with the late Queen Victoria. They are theoretical observations of no practical moment for the course of operations and the issue of the war. The chief of the General Staff, General von Moltke, and his predecessor, General Count Schlieffen, have declared that the General Staff reported to the Kaiser on the Boer War as on every war, great or small, which has occurred on the earth during the last ten years. Both, however, have given assurances that our General Staff never examined a field plan of campaign, or anything similar, prepared by the Kaiser in view of the Boer War, or forwarded such to England (hear, hear, on the Right and Centre). But I must also defend our policy against the reproach of being ambiguous vis-à-vis the Boers. We had—the documents show it—given timely warning to the Transvaal Government. We called its attention to the fact that in case of a war with England it would stand alone. We put it to her directly, and through the friendly Dutch Government in May, 1899, peacefully to come to an understanding with England, since there could be no doubt as to the result of a war.
"In the question of intervention the colours in the article of the Daily Telegraph are too thickly laid on. The thing itself had long been known (hear, hear). It was some time previously the subject of controversy between the National Review and the Deutsche Revue. There can be no talk of a 'revelation.' It was said that the imperial communication to the Queen of England, that Germany had not paid any attention to a suggestion for mediation or intervention, is a breach of the rules of diplomatic intercourse. Gentlemen, I will not recall indiscretions to memory, for they are frequent in the diplomatic history of all nations and at all times ('Quite right,' on the Right). The safest policy is perhaps that which need fear no indiscretion ('Quite right,' on the Left). To pass judgment in particular cases as to whether or not a breach of confidence has occurred, one must know more of the closely connected circumstances than appears in the article of the Daily Telegraph. The communication might be justified if it were attempted in one quarter or another to misrepresent our refusal or to throw suspicion on our attitude; circumstances may have previously happened which make allusion to the subject in a confidential correspondence at least intelligible. Gentlemen, I said before that many of the expressions used in the Daily Telegraph article are too strong. That is true, in the first place, of the passage where the Kaiser is represented as having said that the majority of the German people are inimically disposed towards England. Between Germany and England misunderstandings have occurred, serious, regrettable misunderstandings. But I am conscious of being at one with this entire honourable House in the view that the German people desire peaceful and friendly relations with England on the basis of mutual esteem (loud and general applause)—and I take note that the speakers of all parties have spoken to-day in the same sense ('Quite right'). The colours are also too thickly laid on in the place where reference is made to our interests in the Pacific Ocean. It has been construed in a sense hostile to Japan. Wrongly: we have never in the Far East thought of anything but this—to acquire and maintain for Germany a share of the commerce of Eastern Asia in view of the great economic future of this region. We are not thinking of maritime adventure there: aggressive tendencies have as little to say to our naval construction in the Pacific as in Europe. Moreover, his Majesty the Kaiser entirely agrees with the responsible director of foreign policy in the complete recognition of the high political importance which the Japanese people have achieved by their political strength and military ability. German policy does not regard it as its task to detract from the enjoyment and development of what Japan has acquired.
"Gentlemen, I am, generally speaking, under the impression that if the material facts—completely, in their proper shape—were individually known, the sensation would be no great one; in this instance, too, the whole is more than all the parts taken together. But above all, gentlemen, one must not, while considering the material things, quite forget the psychology, the tendency. For two decades our Kaiser has striven, often under very difficult circumstances, to bring about friendly relations between Germany and England. This honest endeavour has had to contend with obstacles which would have discouraged many. The passionate partisanship of our people for the Boers was humanly intelligible; feeling for the weaker certainly appeals to the sympathy. But this partisanship has led to unjustified, and often unmeasured, attacks on England, and similarly unjust and hateful attacks have been made against Germany from the side of the English. Our aims were misconstrued, and hostile plans against England were foisted on us which we had never thought of. The Kaiser, rightly convinced that this state of things was a calamity for both countries and a danger for the civilized world, kept undeviatingly on the course he had adopted. The Kaiser is particularly wronged by any doubt as to the purity of his intentions, his ideal way of thinking, and his deep love of country.
"Gentlemen, let us avoid anything that looks like exaggerated seeking for foreign favour, anything that looks like uncertainty or obsequiousness. But I understand that the Kaiser, precisely because he was anxious to work zealously and honestly for good relationship with England, felt embittered at being ever the object of attacks casting suspicion on his best motives. Has one not gone so far as to attribute to his interest in the German fleet secret views against vital English interests—views which are far from him. And so in private conversation with English friends he sought to bring the proof, by pointing to his conduct, that in England he was misunderstood and wrongly judged.
"Gentlemen, the perception that the publication of these conversations in England has not had the effect the Kaiser wished, and in our own country has caused profound agitation and painful regret, will—this firm conviction I have acquired during these anxious days—lead the Kaiser for the future, in private conversation also, to maintain the reserve that is equally indispensable in the interest of a uniform policy and for the authority of the Crown ('Bravo!' on the Right).
"If it were not so, I could not, nor could my successor, bear the responsibility ('Bravo!' on the Right and National Liberals).
"For the fault which occurred in dealing with the manuscript I accept, as I have caused to be said in the Norddeutsche Allgemeine Zeitung, entire responsibility. It also goes against my personal feelings that officials who have done their duty all their lives should be stamped as transgressors because, in a single case, they relied too much on the fact that I usually read and finally decide everything myself.
"With Herr von Heydebrand I regret that in the mechanism of the Foreign Office, which for eleven years has worked smoothly under me, a defect should on one occasion occur. I will answer for it that such a thing does not happen again, and that with this object, without respect to persons, though also without injustice, what is needful will be done ('Bravo!').
"When the article in the Daily Telegraph appeared, its fateful effect could not for a moment be doubtful to me, and I handed in my resignation. This decision was unavoidable, and was not difficult to come to. The most serious and most difficult decision which I ever took in my political life was, in obedience to the Kaiser's wish, to remain in office. I brought myself to this decision only because I saw in it a command of my political duty, precisely in the time of trouble, to continue to serve his Majesty the Kaiser and the country (repeated 'Bravo!'). How long that will be possible for me, I cannot say.
"Let me say one thing more: at a moment when the fact that in the world much is once again changing requires serious attention to be given to the entire situation, wherever it is matter of concern to maintain our position abroad, and without pushing ourselves forward with quiet constancy to make good our interests—at such a moment we ought not to show ourselves small-spirited in foreign eyes, nor make out of a misfortune a catastrophe. I will refrain from all criticism of the exaggerations we have lived through during these last days. The harm is—as calm reflection will show—not so great that it cannot with circumspection be made good. Certainly no one should forget the warning which the events of these days has given us ('Bravo!')—but there is no reason to lose our heads and awake in our opponents the hope that the Empire, inwardly or outwardly, is maimed.
"It is for the chosen representatives of the nation to exhibit the prudence which the time demands. I do not say it for myself, I say it for the country: the support required for this is no favour, it is a duty which this honourable House will not evade (loud applause on the Right, hisses from the Socialists)."
Prince Bülow's speech requires but little comment—its importance for Germany is the fact that it brought to a head the country's feeling, that if the Emperor's unlimited and unrestrained idea of his heaven-sent mission as sole arbiter of the nation's destinies was not checked, disaster must ensue. The speech itself is rather an apology and an explanation than a defence, and in this spirit it was accepted in Germany. It is fair to say that the Emperor has faithfully kept the engagement made through Prince Bülow with his people so far, and unless human nature is incurable there seems no reason why he should not keep it to the end of the reign. More than four years have passed since the incidents narrated occurred. The storm has blown over, the sea of popular indignation has gone down, and at present no cloud is visible on the horizon.
Besides the Tweedmouth Letter and the "November Storm" there were one or two other notable events in the parliamentary proceedings of the year. The Reichstag dealt with Prussian electoral reform and the attitude of Germany towards the question of disarmament. As to the first, the Government refused to regard it as an imperial concern, though the popular claim was and is that the suffrage should be the same in Prussia as in the Empire, viz., universal, direct, and secret. This claim the Emperor will not listen to, on the ground that it would injure the influence of the middle classes by the admission of undesirable elements (meaning the Socialists); that the electoral system for the Empire, with the latter's national tasks, should be on a broader basis than in the case of the individual States, where the electors are chiefly concerned with administration, the school, and the Church; and that it would bring the Imperial and Prussian Parliaments into conflict to the injury of German unity. The Emperor has made only one reference to electoral reform in Prussia, a promise, namely, he gave the Diet in October of this year, that the regulations concerning the voting should experience
"an organic further development, which should correspond to the economic progress, the spread of education and political understanding, and the strengthening of the feeling of State responsibility."
No reform, however, has yet been effected by legislation.
As to disarmament, Germany's position is simply negative, though it may be noticed by anticipation that she has recently (1913) expressed her disposition to accept the proportion of ten German to sixteen English first-class battleships suggested by Sir Edward Grey in 1912 as offering the basis of a possibly permanent arrangement. At the time now dealt with, however, Chancellor von Bülow asserted that no proposal that could serve as a basis had ever been submitted to his Government, and added that even if such a proposal were made it was doubtful if it could be accepted. It was not merely the number of ships, he said, that was involved; there were a host of technical questions—standards, criteria of all sorts, which could not be expressed in figures, economic progress abroad and the possible effect of new scientific inventions—to be considered. Lastly there were the navy laws, which the Government was pledged to carry out. As for military disarmament, the Emperor and his advisers regard it as impossible, considering the unfavourable strategic situation of Germany in the midst of Europe, with exposed frontiers on every side.
This year the Emperor and his family took up their quarters for the first time in their new Corfu spring residence "Achilleion." They were met by the Royal Family of Greece, who showed them over the Castle, and in the evening were welcomed by the mayor of Corfu, who, in a flight of metaphor, said his people desired to wreathe the Emperor's "Olympic brow" with a crown of olive. That the Emperor did not pass his days wholly in admiring the beauty of the scenery was shown by the fact that a few days after his arrival he delivered a lecture in the Castle on "Nelson and the Battle of Trafalgar," being prompted thereto by a book on the subject by Captain Mark Kerr, of H.M.S. Implacable. The Emperor illustrated his lecture with sketches drawn by himself of the positions of the united French and Spanish fleets during the battle.
Almost every year sees some specialty produced at the Royal Opera in Berlin. This year it was Meyerbeer's "Les Huguenots," performed in the presence of the French Ambassador in Berlin, Monsieur Jules Cambon, and two directors of the Paris Opera. The Emperor told Monsieur Messager, one of the latter, that he had taken an infinity of trouble to get the right character, colour, and movement of the period of the opera, and explained his interest in the work by the fact that he had lost two of his ancestors, Admiral Coligny and the Prince of Orange, in the historic massacre. This opera, with Verdi's "Aida," are still, as given at the Royal Opera, the favourite operas of the Berlin public.
Americans, like all other people, regard the Emperor with friendly feelings, but for a time this year their respect for him suffered some diminution owing to what was known as the Tower-Hill affair. When the American Ambassador in Berlin, Mr. Charlemagne Tower, resigned his post in 1908, the Washington authorities found difficulty in choosing a suitable successor. Mr. Tower was a wealthy man, who by his personal qualities, aided by a talented wife, whom the Emperor once described as "the Moltke of society," and by frequent entertainments in one of the finest houses of the fashionable Tiergarten quarter, had fully satisfied the Emperor of his fitness to represent a great nation at the Court of a great Empire. The Emperor has a high opinion of his country, and, in small things as in great, will not have it treated as a quantité négligeable: consequently a millionaire was not too good for Berlin. The impression produced by Mr. Tower on Republican America was not quite the same. When Ambassador in St. Petersburg, Mr. Tower had invented a Court uniform for himself and staff of a highly ornate, not to say fantastic, kind, and when in Berlin was thought to take too little trouble to win popularity among his American fellow-colonists. This non-republican attitude, as it seemed to be, met with a good deal of adverse criticism in America, and the Washington authorities, for that or for some other reason, considered it advisable to choose as Mr. Tower's successor a man of another type. Their choice fell on Dr. David Jayne Hill, American Minister at Berne, a former President of Rochester University, the author of a standard work on the History of Diplomacy, and as renowned for the amiability of his character as for his academic attainments. A further reason for choosing him was that he had been attached to the service of the Emperor's brother, Prince Henry, during the latter's visit to the United States some years before. Dr. Hill spoke German excellently, was able and distinguished, and, if not a man of great means, was sufficiently well-to-do to represent his country becomingly at the Court of Berlin. His selection was in due course communicated for agrément to the German Foreign Office, and by it, also in due course, transmitted to the Emperor. The Emperor without more ado signed the agrément and the arrival of Dr. Hill in Berlin was daily expected.
Just at this time, however, Mr. Tower gave a farewell dinner to the Emperor, and invited to it specially from Rome the American Ambassador to Italy, Mr. Griscom. Mr. Griscom was accompanied by his clever and attractive wife. The dinner-party assembled, and Mr. Griscom and his wife were placed in the immediate neighbourhood of the Emperor. Before dinner was over it was evident that the Griscoms had made a most favourable impression on the imperial guest. Accordingly, so the story goes, when towards the end of dinner the Emperor, in his impulsive way, exclaimed, "Now, why didn't America send me the Griscoms instead of the Hills?" or words to that effect, the company was not completely taken by surprise. When, however, the Emperor went on to suggest to his host to telegraph to President Roosevelt to make the change, it became evident that an international incident of exceptional delicacy had been created. Mr. Tower, who would perhaps have acted with better judgment had he declined to adopt the Emperor's suggestion, cabled to President Roosevelt, and at the same Mr. Griscom wrote to him privately. Before Mr. Griscom's letter arrived, perhaps before Mr. Roosevelt was in possession of Mr. Tower's telegram, the words of the Emperor had become known in Berlin, were cabled to the American Press, and much indignation at the Emperor's conduct was aroused in all parts of America. The two Governments, as well as Dr. Hill, were placed in a position of great embarrassment. In view of the state of public opinion in America, and in view also of the American Government's engagement vis à vis Dr. Hill, the Washington authorities could not withdraw a nominee who had been already signalled to it from Germany as persona grata. The only way possible out of the difficulty was to employ the machinery of the official démenti, and this was accordingly done. It was denied by the Foreign Office that the Emperor had expressed dissatisfaction with Dr. Hill's appointment, and the incident closed with the carrying out of the original arrangements and the arrival of Dr. Hill in Berlin. Subsequent events proved that had the Emperor known Dr. Hill personally he would never have thought of expressing dissatisfaction at the prospect of seeing him as Ambassador at his Court, for Dr. Hill, during the two years of his stay, fully vindicated the wisdom of the Washington Government's choice, and before he left his post had earned the Emperor's complete respect, if not his cordial friendship.
XV.
AFTER THE STORM
1909-1913
Next year, 1909, was the year of the famous finance reform measure which, though finally carried through, led to the resignation of Chancellor von Bülow. It had been obvious for some years that a reorganization of the imperial system of finance with a view to meeting the growing expenses of the Empire, and in especial those of the army and navy, was necessary if imperial bankruptcy was to be avoided. The practice of taking what were known as matricular contributions from the separate States to make up for deficits in the imperial budgets, and of burdening posterity by State loans, had one day to cease. At the beginning of the reign the National Debt was 884 million marks (£44,200,000), and in 1908 over 4,000 million marks (£200,000,000). A year before this Prince Bülow had made his first proposals for reform, including new taxes on beer, wine, tobacco, and succession duties on property.
All parties in Parliament, except of course the Social Democrats, admitted that fresh imposts were inevitable, but, very naturally, no party was willing to bear them. The Conservatives would not hear of an inheritance tax and the Liberals would not hear of duties on popular consumption. The result was to make the Centrum masters of the political field and place the Conservative-Liberal "bloc" at its mercy. After long discussion, the Government proposals were put to the vote on June 24th, and as the Centrum threw in its lot with the Conservatives, the proposals were rejected by 195 votes to 187. Prince Bülow thereupon went to Kiel and tendered his resignation to the Emperor, but at the latter's urgent request consented to remain in office until financial reform in one shape or another had been effected. This result was attained a month later, after much compromising and discussion. The Chancellor renewed his request for retirement, and the Emperor agreed. On the same day, July 14th, that the resignation took effect, it was officially announced that Herr von Bethmann-Hollweg, who had hitherto been Minister of the Interior, was appointed to succeed Prince von Bülow as Imperial Chancellor.
An impression prevails widely in Germany that Prince Bülow's retirement was due to the loss of the Emperor's favour owing to the Prince's attitude towards the monarch during the "November storm." Prince Bülow, very properly, has always refused to say anything about his relations with his royal master, but a lengthy statement he made to a newspaper correspondent referring his resignation to the conduct of the Conservatives, and a letter from the Emperor gratefully thanking the Prince in the warmest terms for his "long and intimate co-operation," and conferring upon him at the same time the highest Order in the Empire, that of the Black Eagle, should be sufficient evidence to disprove the supposition. It is more probable that the Prince was weary of the cares of office and of the strife of party. Moreover, he had, in the state of his health, a strong private reason for retirement. Four years before, on April 5, 1906, he had fallen unconscious from his seat on the ministerial bench during the proceedings in the Reichstag, and although he was back again in Parliament, perfectly recovered, in the following November, the attack was an experience which warned him against too great a prolongation of such heavy work and responsibility as the Chancellorship entails.
The retirement of Prince Bülow meant the disappearance of the most notable figure in German political life since the beginning of the century. In ability, wit, and those graces of a refined and richly cultivated mind which have so often distinguished great English statesmen, he was a head and shoulders above any of his fellow-countrymen; while the mere fact that he was able to maintain his position for almost twelve years (he had been, as Foreign Secretary for over two years, the Emperor's most trusted counsellor and the real executive in foreign policy) is a convincing proof of his tact and diplomatic talent, as well as of his statesmanship.
His successor, the present Chancellor, Herr von Bethmann-Hollweg, is a man of another and very different type. He incorporates the spirit of Prussian patriotism of the most orthodox kind in its worthiest and best manifestations, but as yet he has given no proofs of possessing the breadth of view, the oratorical talent, or the urbanity which distinguished his predecessor. Prince von Bülow's career as a German diplomatist in foreign capitals made him an acute and highly polished man of the world. The present Chancellor has spent all his life within the comparatively narrow confines of Prussian administrative service. It is, of course, too soon to pass final judgment on him as German Prime Minister.
The visit of King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra to Berlin in February, 1909, disposed finally of the idea, which had prevailed in Germany as well as abroad for two or three years, that England was pursuing a policy aiming to bring about the "isolation" of Germany in world-politics. The visit was an official one, paid, of course, chiefly to the Emperor; but its most remarkable feature politics apart, was the friendly relations which King Edward established with the Berlin City Fathers at a reception in the Town Hall. It was not that he said anything out of the way to the assembled burghers; but his simple manner, genial remarks, and perhaps especially the sympathetic way in which he handled the loving-cup offered by his hosts, made an instantaneous and strong impression.
The controversy that raged round the so-called "Flora Bust" contributed not a little to the gaiety of nations towards the close of this year. The bust, an undraped wax figure, reproducing the features of Leonardo da Vinci's famous "La Joconde," was bought by Dr. Wilhelm Bode, Director of the Kaiser Friedrich Museum in Berlin, for £8,000 from a London dealer as an authentic work of the celebrated Italian painter, dating from about the year 1500. It was brought with a great flourish of trumpets to Berlin, and a chorus of self-congratulation was raised in Germany on the successful carrying off of such a prize from England. The harmony, however, was rudely disturbed by the publication of a letter from Mr. F.C. Cooksey, art critic of the Times, stating that the bust was not by da Vinci at all, but was in reality the work of Mr. R.C. Lucas, an artist of some note forty or fifty years ago, and that it had for long occupied a pedestal in Lucas's suburban garden.
The Emperor, whose curiosity as well as patriotism was aroused, spent half an hour on November 11th discussing the bust with Dr. Bode and examining an album containing photographs of the works of Lucas. At the close of his inspection the Emperor expressed great delight at the acquisition, as to the genuineness of which he declared he "had not the slightest doubt," and said he did not regard the price paid as extremely high. Unfortunately for the Emperor's conviction, a letter now appeared in the Times from Mr. A.C. Lucas, a son of R.C. Lucas, who said he recollected the making of the bust, and suggested that there might be found in its interior a piece of cloth, probably a part of an old waistcoat of his father's, which had been used as a sort of filling. In the presence of such a statement there was only one thing left to be done: to examine the interior of the bust. First of all it was subjected to the Roentgen rays, the result being to show that the interior was not homogeneous. A few days after, there was a great gathering of experts at the Museum, a hole was cut in the wax at the back of the bust, a bent wire was introduced, and the search for the famous piece of waistcoat began. It was a dramatic moment as Professor Latghen with his wire explored the interior of the bust, and the tension reached its highest point when the Professor, drawing from the bust what was evidently a piece of cloth, exclaimed, "Hier ist die Veste!" On being further withdrawn the substance proved to be about two square inches of a grey, canvas-like material, feeling soft and velvety to the touch. It was a disagreeable discovery for the Germans, but it was got over by the suggestion that the original bust had been entrusted to Lucas for repair, and that in this way the waistcoat had got into it. The "poor English newspapers," Dr. Bode said, referring to the sarcastic comments on the discovery from the other side of the Channel, "had had, without any acquaintance with our bust or with the work of its alleged forger, to give this particular form of expression to their ill-humour at the sale." As a matter of fact, the bust, whoever made it, is a lovely work of art, as every one who has seen it readily admits.
The Emperor's friendship with Mr. Theodore Roosevelt, which was now to be confirmed by personal acquaintance, throws a side light on his own character, and testifies to his desire to keep in touch with the rulers of other countries—another illustration, by the way, of his consistency, since he laid down the policy of cultivating friendly relations with foreign rulers at the very commencement of his reign. Probably many letters in the large characteristic handwriting of both men have passed between them, and there probably always existed a desire on the part of the wielder of the mailed fist to make the personal acquaintance of the advocate of the big stick. The meeting occurred in May, 1910, after Mr. Roosevelt had shot wild beasts in Africa, visited Egypt, London, Vienna, Rome, and other continental cities, with a cohort of newspaper correspondents, and caused by his speeches political, if fortunately harmless, disturbance almost everywhere he went. When in Berlin he was to have lodged at the Emperor's palace; but the Emperor's hospitable intent was frustrated by the death of King Edward VII, which prevented all entertainment in the home of his German nephew.
The Roosevelt party, consisting of the ex-President, Mrs. Roosevelt, and Miss Ethel Roosevelt, arrived in Berlin on May 11th from Stockholm, and at noon the same day were taken by royal train to Potsdam. At the New Palace the party were heartily greeted by the Emperor, whom they found standing on the steps waiting to receive them. After shaking hands the Emperor led his guests into a small reception-room, where they were introduced to the Empress, the Crown Prince and Crown Princess, and other members of the imperial family. The Emperor then took them to the Shell Room, so called from its being inlaid with shells and rare stones, and here were found some of the Emperor's high officials, including Admiral von Müller, chief of the Marine Cabinet, and one of the most able and amiable of the Emperor's entourage, who had met Mr. Roosevelt when on his trip to America with Prince Henry several years before. Luncheon followed at six small tables in the Jasper Gallery, the Emperor taking his seat between Mrs. Roosevelt and the Crown Princess, while the Empress had Mr. Roosevelt on her left and her eldest son, the Crown Prince, on her right. Princess Victoria Louise, the Emperor's only daughter, occupied a seat on Mr. Roosevelt's left. After lunch was over the guests went back to the Shell Room, and here the Emperor, taking Mr. Roosevelt apart, began a conversation so long and animated that the shades of evening began to fall before it ended. The Roosevelts did not return to Berlin by train, but were first driven by the Emperor to inspect Sans Souci, and were afterwards whirled back to Berlin in the yellow imperial motors.
Only two other incidents of the visit need be mentioned. One of them was a lecture on "The World Movement," delivered by Mr. Roosevelt in very husky tones (for he was suffering badly from hoarseness) at Berlin University, in the presence of the Emperor and Empress. The other was a parade of 12,000 troops, arranged by the Emperor at Doeberitz, the great military exercise camp near Potsdam, which Mr. Roosevelt, clad in a khaki coat and breeches, and wearing brown leather gaiters and black slouch hat, observed from horseback beside the Emperor. As the troops went by at the close of the review the Emperor and Mr. Roosevelt saluted in military fashion simultaneously.
Immediately after the visit of the Roosevelts, the Emperor was called to England to attend the funeral of King Edward VII. The imperial yacht Hohenzollern, with the Emperor on board, arrived in England on May 19th. Next day the Emperor travelled to Victoria terminus, where he was received and warmly embraced by King George. They proceeded to Buckingham Palace, where the Emperor's first call was made on the widowed Queen Alexandra. On the 21st took place the funeral of King Edward, the procession to Westminster Abbey, where the service was held, being headed by King George with the Emperor on his right and the Duke of Connaught on his left. Both the Emperor and the Duke were dressed in Field-Marshal's uniform and carried the bâtons of their rank. The countenance of the Emperor is described by a chronicler of the time (and the Times) as wearing "an expression grave even to severity."
The procession moved slowly on to the famous Abbey, the Emperor riding a grey horse, saluting at intervals as he rode along. On arrival at the Abbey an incident occurred. As soon as Queen Alexandra's carriage arrived and drew up, the Emperor, according to the accounts of eyewitnesses, ran to the door of the carriage with so much alacrity that he had reached it before the royal servants, and when it appeared that her Majesty was not to alight from that side of the carriage, the Emperor motioned the lacqueys round to the other door, and was there before them to assist her Majesty. This he did, after himself opening the door. The Emperor remained in England only a very few days after the funeral, seeing old friends, among them Lord Kitchener.
As of interest to both Englishmen and Germans may be mentioned the tour through India undertaken by the Crown Prince in November. Steele once happily said of a Lady Hastings that "to love her was a liberal education"; to make a tour through India, it might similarly be said, is an education in the extent and character of British imperial power and administration. The Crown Prince naturally devoted a goodly share of his time to the delights of sport, including tiger-shooting and pig-sticking, but he must also have learned much of England's fine imperial spirit from his intercourse with an official hierarchy as honest and conscientious as that of his own country. The Crown Prince, on his return home, published a volume of hunting reminiscences which does no small credit to him as an author.
The Emperor's "shining armour" political remark dates from this period. He was on a visit to his Triplice ally, Kaiser Franz Josef, in September, 1910, and made a speech at the Vienna Town Hall on the 21st which contained a reference to the loyal conduct he claimed Germany had observed when the action of Austria-Hungary in annexing Bosnia and Herzegovina, despite the wording of the Treaty of Berlin, had raised an outcry in other countries, and in particular strained Austrian relations with Russia. After thanking his audience for the personal reception given him, he continued:
"On the other hand, it seems to me I read in your resolution the agreement of the city of Vienna with the action of an ally in taking his stand in shining armour at a grave moment by the side of your most gracious sovereign."
The outcry caused in the world by Austria's high-handed annexation, and especially in Russia, theoretically always Austria's most probable enemy, owing to conflicting interests in the Balkans, subsided, we know, as suddenly as it was raised. The reason, it is currently believed, and the form in which the rays of the shining armour acted, was an intimation from the Emperor to the Czar that, if necessary, Germany was prepared to fight for Austria.
Peoples are said to have the institutions, and husbands the wives, they deserve; but if German cities, and especially Berlin, have the police they deserve, the fact speaks very uncomplimentarily for their inhabitants. Foreigners in Germany, coming from countries where manners are more natural and obliging, frequently use the adjectives "brutal" and "stupid" when speaking of the Prussian constable. The proceedings of the Berlin police during the Moabit riots in the capital in September this year are often quoted as an example of their brutality, while, as to stupidity, it is enough to say that a stranger in Berlin, discussing its mounted police, naïvely remarked that what most struck him about them was the look of intelligence on the faces of the horses. Judgments of this kind are too sweeping. It should be remembered that Germany is surrounded by countries of which the riff-raff is at all times seeking refuge in it or passing through it, that polyglot swindlers of every kind, the most refined as well as the most commonplace, abound, and that Anarchists are not yet an extinct species. For the Prussian police, moreover, there is a Social Democrat behind every bush.
Possibly to this condition of things, and to the suspicion that Social Democratic organizers were about, was due the gallant charge made by half a dozen policemen, with drawn swords in their hands and revolvers at their belts, on four inoffensive English and American journalists during the Moabit riots. Towards midnight of September 29th the journalists were seated in an open taximeter cab, in a brilliantly lighted square, which some little time before had been swept of rioters—rioters from the Berlin police point of view being any one, man, woman, or child, who is, with guilty or innocent intent, it makes no difference, in or near a theatre of disturbance. Suddenly half a dozen burly policemen, led on by a police spy, as he afterwards turned out to be, charged the cab and laid about them with their swords. They probably only intended to use the flat of their weapons, but one of them succeeded in slashing deeply the hand of Reuter's representative, who was of the party. The other journalists escaped with contusions and bruises, thanks chiefly to the sides of the cab impeding the sword-play of the attackers.
The journalists naturally complained to their Ambassadors, who took up their cause with commendable readiness. Without immediate effect, however; the authorities, though themselves very strong on the point of duty, wondered much at journalists being in a place where duty alone could have brought them, and refused any sort of apology or other satisfaction. The Government, however, eventually expressed its "regret," and a year or two after, possibly in the spirit of conciliation and compensation, agreed to give foreign journalists in Berlin the passe-partout, or coupe-fil, as it is known in France, which is one of the privileges most valued by the journalist, native and foreign, in Paris.
Among the international agreements of the year was a commercial one between Germany and America. Commercial relations between the two countries have never been quite satisfactory to either, and if there is no tariff war, occasions of tariff tension, with consequent disturbance of trade, constantly arise. Germany's European commercial treaties have secured her a sufficiency of raw material for her industry. Her chief object now is not so much perhaps to facilitate imports of material from other countries as to find markets, in America as elsewhere, for her industry's finished products. Consequently she strongly dislikes the high tariff barriers of the United States, inaugurated by the Dingley tariff of 1897, and has in addition certain grievances against that country regarding customs administration in respect of appraisement, invoices, and the like. Her commercial connexion with America dates from the treaty of "friendship and commerce" made by Frederick the Great, and having the most-favoured-nation treatment as its basis; a regular treaty of the same kind between Prussia and America was entered into in 1828; and since then commercial relations have been regulated provisionally by a series of short-term agreements which, however, America claims, do not confer on Germany unrestricted right to most-favoured-nation treatment. By the agreement now in force, concluded this year (1910), America and Germany grant each other the benefit of their minimum duties.
Since the "November storm" the Emperor had made no reference to the doctrine of Divine Right, nor given any indication of a desire to exercise the "personal regiment" which is the natural corollary to it. It has been seen that the doctrine, viewed from the English standpoint, is a species of mental malady to which Hohenzollern monarchs are hereditarily subject. It recurs intermittently and particularly whenever a Hohenzollern monarch speaks in Koenigsberg, the Scone of Prussia, where Prussian Kings are crowned. When at Koenigsberg this year the Emperor suffered from a return of the royal idée fixe. "Here my grandfather," he said,
"placed, by his own right, the crown of the Kings of Prussia on his head, once again laying stress upon the fact that it was conferred upon him by the Grace of God alone, not by Parliament, by meetings of the people, or by popular decisions; and that he considered himself the chosen instrument of Heaven and as such performed his duties as regent and as ruler."
Speaking of himself on the occasion he said:
"Considering myself as an Instrument of the Lord, without being misled by the views and opinions of the day, I go my way, which is devoted solely and alone to the prosperity and peaceful development of our Fatherland."
The Emperor, by the way, on this occasion made what sounds like an indirect reference to the Suffragette craze. "What shall our women," he asked, after mentioning the pattern Queen of Prussia, Queen Louise,
"learn from the Queen? They must learn that the principal task of the German woman does not lie in attending public meetings and belonging to societies, in the attainment of supposed rights in which women can emulate men, but in the quiet work of the home and in the family."
The Emperor's reference to his divine appointment did not pass without a good deal of popular criticism in Germany, but nearly all Germans were at one with the Emperor in his view of the proper sphere for womanly activities.
The Emperor's domestic life for the last two or three years, including the early months of the present year, have passed without special cause of interest or excitement, if we except the visit he and the Empress made to London in May, 1911, to be present at the unveiling of Queen Victoria's statue, and the announcement he was able to make a few months ago that his only daughter, Princess Victoria Louise, had become engaged to Prince Ernest August, Duke of Cumberland, the still persisting claimant to the Kingdom of Hannover, absorbed by Prussia in 1866. The visit to London lasted only five days and produced no incident particularly worthy of record. The engagement of Princess Victoria Louise, while generally believed to be a love-match, possesses also political significance for Germany, not indeed as putting an end to the claim of the Duke of Cumberland, but as practically effecting a reconciliation between the Hohenzollerns and Guelphs. The young Duke of Brunswick had already implicitly renounced his claim to Hannover by entering the German army and taking the oath of allegiance to the Emperor as War Lord, so that, when his father dies, the Guelph claim to Hannover will die with him.
It is difficult to determine whether the Government's abandonment of its design to amend the Prussian franchise system in 1910, its submissive attitude towards the Pope's Borromeo Encyclical in 1911, the rapid rise in food prices which marked both years, or finally, the Emperor's failure to secure a slice of Morocco for Germany had most antagonizing effect on German popular feeling; but whatever the cause, the general elections of January, 1912, proved a tremendous Socialist victory, which must have been, and still remains, gall and wormwood to the Emperor. Notwithstanding official efforts, over one-third of the votes polled at the first ballots went for Social Democratic candidates. The number of seats thus obtained was 64, and this number, after the second ballots, rose to 110, thus making the Socialist party numerically the strongest in the Reichstag. Up to the present, however, Herr Bebel and his cohorts appear to be happy in possessing power rather than in using it.
Before completing the Emperor's domestic chronicle of more recent years, a few lines may be devoted to the role in which he has last appeared before the public—that of farmer. On February 12, 1913, he attended a meeting of the German Agricultural Council in Berlin, and with only a few statistical notes to help him narrated in lively and amusing fashion his experiences as owner of a farm, the management of which he has been personally supervising since 1898. The farm is part of the Cadinen Estate, bequeathed to him by an admirer and universally known for the majolica ware made out of the clay found on the property. The Emperor was able to show that he had achieved remarkable success with his farm, and particularly with a fine species of bull, Bos indicus major, he maintained on it. A year or two before, at a similar meeting, when speaking of the same breed of bull, he caused much hilarity among the military portion of his audience by jokingly remarking that it had "nothing to do with the General Staff." On the present occasion he also caused laughter by recounting how he had "fired," to use an American expression exactly equivalent to the German word employed by the Emperor, a tenant who "wasn't any use." The Emperor, however, would, as it turned out, have done better by not mentioning the incident, for the Supreme Court at Leipzig a few days subsequently quashed the Emperor's order of ejectment on the tenant and condemned him to pay all the costs in the case. The role of farmer, it may be added, is one which, had he been born a country gentleman like Bismarck, the Emperor would have filled with complete success. But in what role would he not have done well?
Foreign politics everywhere for the last three or four years have been full of incident, outcry, and bloodshed. The state of things, indeed, prevailing in the world for some time past is extraordinary. A visitant from another planet would imagine that normal peace and abnormal war had changed places, and that civilized mankind now regard peace as an interlude of war, not war as an interlude of peace. He would be wrong, of course, but the race in armament, which threatens to leave the nations taking part in it financially breathless and exhausted, might easily lead him astray. On some of the situations with which these politics are concerned we may briefly touch.
For the last three or four years the dominant note in the music of what is called the European Concert, taking Europe for the moment to include Great Britain, has been the state of Anglo-German relations. There have been times, as has been seen, when public feeling in both England and Germany was strongly antagonized, but all through the period there has been evident a desire on the part of both Governments to adopt a mutually conciliatory attitude, and if the war in the Balkans does not lead to a general international conflagration, which at present appears improbable, the two countries may arrive at a permanent understanding. There was, and not so very long ago, a similar state of tension, prolonged for many years, between England and France. That tension not only ceased, but was converted into political friendship by the Anglo-French Agreement of 1904. Parallel with this tension between England and France was the tension between England and Russia, owing to the latter's advance towards England's Indian possessions. The latter state of things ended with the Anglo-Russian Agreement of 1907, and it should engender satisfaction and hope, therefore, to those who now apprehend a war between England and Germany to note that neither of the tensions referred to, though both were long and bitter, developed into war.
The tension between England and Germany of late years has been tightened rather than relaxed by ministerial speeches as well as by newspaper polemics in both countries. One of the most disturbing of the former was the speech delivered by Mr. Lloyd George at the Mansion House on July 21, 1911. Doubtless with the approval of the Prime Minister, Mr. Asquith, Mr. Lloyd George said:
"I believe it is essential, in the highest interest not merely of this country, but of the world, that Britain should at all hazards maintain her place and her prestige amongst the Great Powers of the world. Her potent influence has many a time been in the past, and may yet be in the future, invaluable to the cause of human liberty. It has more than once in the past redeemed continental nations, which are sometimes too apt to forget that service, from overwhelming disasters and even from national extinction. I would make great sacrifices to preserve peace. I conceive that nothing would justify a disturbance of international goodwill except questions of the gravest national moment. But if a situation were to be forced upon us in which peace could only be preserved by the surrender of the great and beneficent position Britain has won by centuries of heroism and achievement, by allowing Britain to be treated, where her interests are vitally affected, as if she were of no account in the cabinet of nations, then I say emphatically that peace at that price would be a humiliation intolerable for a great country like ours to endure."
These rhetorical platitudes were uttered at the time of the "conversations" between the French and German Foreign Offices about the compensation claimed by Germany for giving France, once for all, a free hand in Morocco. Germany was apparently making demands of an exorbitant character, and what Mr. Lloyd George really meant was that if Germany persisted in these demands England would fight on the side of France in order to resist them. As a genuinely democratic speaker, however, he followed the rule of many publicists, who are paid for their articles by the column and say to themselves, "Why use two words when five will do?"
Another unfortunate remark that may be noted in this connexion was that made by Mr. Winston Churchill in referring to the German navy as "to some extent a luxury." The remark, though true (also to a certain extent), was unfortunate, for it irritated public opinion in Germany, where it was regarded as a species of impertinent interference.
As evidence of the desire on the part of the Emperor and his
Government for a friendly arrangement with England may be quoted the
statement made in December, 1910, by the German Chancellor, Herr von
Bethmann-Hollweg, to the following effect:—
"We also meet England in the desire to avoid rivalry in regard to armaments, and non-binding pourparlers, which have from time to time taken place, have been conducted on both sides in a friendly spirit. We have always advanced the opinion that a frank and sincere interchange of views, followed by an understanding with regard to the economic and political interests of the two countries, offers the surest means of allaying all mistrust on the subject of the relations of the Powers to each other on sea and land."
The Chancellor went on to explain that this mistrust had manifested itself "not in the case of the Governments, but of public opinion."
With regard, in particular, to a naval understanding between England and Germany, Chancellor von Bülow, in a Budget speech in March, 1909, declared that up to that time no proposals regarding the dimensions of the fleets or the amount of naval expenditure which could serve as a basis for an understanding had been made on the side of England, though non-binding conversations had taken place on the subject between authoritative English and German personalities. In March last year (1912) such proposals may be said to have been made in the form of a suggestion by Sir Edward Grey during the Budget debate that the ratio of 16 to 10 (i.e., 50 per cent. more and 10 per cent. over) should express the naval strength of the two countries. The suggestion was "welcomed" by Admiral von Tirpitz on behalf of Germany in February, 1913. And there the matter rests.
A perhaps inevitable result of the tension between England and Germany during the period under consideration has been the amount of mutual espionage discovered to be going on in both countries. An incident that attracted wide attention was the arrest in 1910 of Captains Brandon and Trench, the former of whom was arrested at Borkum and the latter at Emden. They were tried before the Supreme Court at Leipzig, and were both sentenced to incarceration in a fortress for four years. Many other arrests, prosecutions, and sentences have taken place both in England and Germany since then, with the consequence that English travellers in Germany and German travellers in England, particularly where the travellers are men of military bearing and are in seaside regions, are now liable, under very small provocation, to a suspicion of being spies. An English lady recently made the acquaintance of a German in England. He was a very nice man, she said, and went on to relate how they were talking one day about Ireland. She happened to mention Tipperary. "Oh, I know Tipperary," the German officer said; "it is in my department." "It was a revelation to me," the lady concluded when repeating the conversation to her friends. As a matter of fact, the Intelligence Departments of the army in both Germany and England are well acquainted with the roads, hills, streams, forts, harbours, and similar details of topography in almost all countries of the world besides their own.
In regard to 1911 should be recorded the journey of the Crown Prince and Crown Princess to England to represent the Emperor at the coronation of King George in June; the outbreak in September of the Turco-Italian War, which placed the Emperor in a dilemma, of which one fork was his duty to Italy as an ally in the Triplice and the other his platonic friendship with the Commander of the Faithful; and, lastly, the suspicion of the Emperor's designs that arose in connexion with the fortification of Flushing at a cost to Holland of some £3,000,000. The Emperor was supposed to have insisted on the fortification in order to prevent the use of the Netherlands by Great Britain as a naval base against Germany. Like many another scare in connexion with foreign policy, the supposition may be regarded only as a product of intelligent journalistic "combination."
Finally, among subsidiary occurrences, should be mentioned the meeting of the Emperor and the Czar in July, 1912, at Port Baltic in Finnish waters, accompanied by their Foreign Ministers, with the official announcement of the stereotyped "harmonious relations" between the two monarchs that followed; and the premature prolongation, with the object of showing solidarity regarding the Balkan situation, of the Triple Alliance, which, entered into, as mentioned earlier, in the year 1882, had already been renewed in 1891, 1896, and 1902. The next renewal should be in 1925, unless in the meantime an international agreement to which all Great Powers are signatories should render it superfluous.
The war in the Balkans need only be referred to in these pages in so far as it concerns Germany. The position of Germany in regard to it, so far, appears simple; she will actively support Austria's larger interests in order to keep faith with her chief ally of the Triplice, and so long as Austria and Russia can agree regarding developments in the Balkan situation, there is no danger of war among the Great Powers. People smiled at the declaration of the Powers some little time ago that the status quo in the Balkans should be maintained; but it should be remembered that the whole phrase is status quo ante bellum, and that, once war has broken out, the status, the position of affairs, is in a condition of solution, and that no new status can arise until the war is over and its consequences determined by treaties. The result of the present war, let it be hoped, will be to confine Turkey to the Orient, where she belongs, and that the Balkan States, possibly after a period of internecine feud, will take their share in modern European progress and civilization.
The amount of declaration, asseveration, recrimination (chiefly journalistic), rectification, intimidation, protestation, pacification, and many other wordy processes that have been employed in almost all countries with the avowed object of maintaining peace during the last four years is in striking contrast to the small progress actually made in regard to a final settlement of either of the two great international points at issue—the limitation of armaments and compulsory arbitration.
Enough perhaps has been said in preceding pages to show the attitude of the Emperor, and consequently the attitude of his Government, towards them. A history of the long agitation in connexion with them is beyond the scope of this work. The agitation itself, however, may be viewed as a step, though not a very long one, on the way to the desired solution, and it is a matter for congratulation that the two subjects have been, and are still being, so freely and copiously and, on the whole, so sympathetically and hopefully ventilated. The great difficulty, apparently, is to find what diplomatists call the proper "formula"—the law-that-must-be-obeyed. Unfortunately, the finding of the formula cannot be regarded as the end of the matter; there still remains the finding of what jurists call the "sanction," that is to say, the power to enforce the formula when found and to punish any nation which fails to act in accordance with it. Nothing but an Areopagus of the nations can furnish such a sanction, but with the present arrangements for balancing power in Europe, to say nothing of the ineradicable pugnacity, greed, and ambition of human nature, such an Areopagus seems very like an impossibility. Time, however, may bring it about. If it should, and the Golden Age begin to dawn, an epoch of new activities and new horizons, quite possibly more novel and interesting than any which has ever preceded it, will open for mankind.
XVI.
THE EMPEROR TO-DAY
What strikes one most, perhaps, on looking back over the Emperor's life and time, are two surprising inconsistencies, one relating to the Emperor himself, the other to that part of his time with which he has been most closely identified.
The first arises from the fact that a man so many-sided, so impulsive, so progressive, so modern—one might almost say so American—should have altered so little either in character or policy during quarter of a century. This is due to what we have called his mediæval nature. He is to-day the same Hohenzollern he was the day he mounted the throne, observing exactly the same attitude to the world abroad and to his folk at home, tenacious of exactly the same principles, enunciating exactly the same views in politics, religion, morals, and art—in everything which concerns the foundations of social life. He still believes himself, as his speeches and conduct show, the selected instrument of Heaven, and acts towards his people and addresses them accordingly. He still opposes all efforts at political change, as witness his attitude towards electoral reform, towards the Germanization of Prussian Poland, towards the Socialists, towards Liberalism in all its manifestations. He is still, as he was at the outset of his reign, the patron of classical art, classical drama, and classical music. He is still the War Lord with the spirit of a bishop and a bishop with the spirit of the War Lord. He is still the model husband and father he always has been. Most men change one way or another as time goes on. With the Emperor time for five-and-twenty years appears to have stood still.
The inconsistency relating to his time arises from the contrast between the real and the seeming character of the reign. For, strikingly and anomalously enough, while the Emperor has been steadily pursuing an economic policy, a policy of peace, his entire reign, as one turns over the pages of its history, seems to resound, during almost every hour, with martial shoutings, confused noises, the clatter of harness, the clash of swords, and the tramp of armies. From moment to moment it recalls those scenes from Shakespearean drama in which indeed no dead are actually seen upon the stage, but at intervals the air is filled with battle cries, "with excursions and alarms," with warriors brandishing their weapons, calling for horses, hacking at imaginary foes, and defying the world in arms.
And yet in reality it has been a period of domestic peace throughout. Though there has been incessant talk of war, and at times war may have been near, it never came, unless the South West African and Boxer expeditions be so called. Commerce and trade have gone on increasing by leaps and bounds. The population has grown at the rate of nearly three-quarters of a million a year. Emperor William the First's social policy has been closely followed. The navy has been built, the army strengthened, the Empire's finances reorganized; in whatever direction one looks one finds a record of solid and substantial and peaceful progress and prosperity. A great deal of it is owing, admittedly, to the Germans themselves, but no small share of it is due to the "impulsive" Emperor's consistency of character and conduct.
Probably the inconsistencies are only apparent. Germany and her Emperor have grown, not developed, if by development is meant a radical alteration in structure or mentality, and if regard is had to the real Germany and the real Emperor, not to the Germany of the tourist, and not to the Emperor of contemporary criticism. It has been seen that the Emperor's nature and policy have not altered. The Constitution of Germany has not altered, nor her Press, nor her political parties, nor her social system, nor, indeed, any of the vital institutions of her national life. With one possible exception—the navy. The navy is a new organic feature, and, like all organisms, is exerting deep and far-reaching influences. Germany, of course, is in a process of development, a state of transition. But nations are at all times in a state of transition, more or less obvious; and it will require yet a good many years to show what new forms and fruits the development now going on in Germany is to bring. The Emperor, it is safe to say, will remain the same, mediæval in nature, modern in character, to the end of his life.
The main thing, however, to be noted both about Germany and the German Emperor is what they stand for in the movement of world-ideas at the present time. Germans cause foreigners to smile when they prophesy that their culture, their civilization, will become the culture and the civilization of the world. The sameness of ideas that prevailed in mediæval times about life and religion—about this life and the life to come—was succeeded, and first in Germany, by an enormous diversity of ideas about life and religion, beginning with the Rationalism (or "enlightenment," as the Germans call it) which set in after the Reformation and the Renaissance; and this diversity again promises—let us at least hope—to go back, in one of the great circles that make one think human thought, too, moves in accordance with planetary laws, to a sameness of views among the nations in regard to the real interests of society, which are peace, religious harmony through toleration, commercial harmony through international intercourse, and the mutual goodwill of governments and peoples. For all this order of ideas the Emperor, notwithstanding his mailed fist and shining armour, stands, and in this spirit both he and the German mind are working.
More than half a century has passed over the Emperor's head; let us look a little more closely at him as the man and the monarch he is to-day. Time appears to have dealt gently with him; the heart, one hears it said, never grows bald, and in all but years the Emperor is probably as young and untiring as ever.
His personal appearance has altered little in the last decade. An observer, who had an opportunity of seeing him at close quarters in 1902, describes him, as he then appeared, as follows:—
"I was standing within arm's length of him at Cuxhaven, where we were waiting the landing of Prince Henry, his brother, on his return from America. The Deutschland had to be warped alongside the quay, and the Emperor, in the uniform of a Prussian general of infantry, meanwhile mixed with the suite and chatted, now to one, now to another, with his usual bonhomie. I was speaking to the American attaché, Captain H——, when the Emperor came up, and naturally I stood a little to one side.
"The thing that most struck me was the Emperor's large grey eyes. As they looked sharply into those of Captain H—— or glanced in my direction, they seemed to show absolutely no feeling, no sentiment of any kind. Not that they gave the notion of hardness or falsity. They were simply like two grey mirrors on which outward things made no impression.
"Two other features did not strike me as anything out of the ordinary, but the whole face had an air of ability, cleverness, briskness, and health. The Emperor is about middle height, with the body very erect, the walk firm, and is very energetic in his gestures. I did not notice the shortness of the left arm, but that may have been because his left hand was leaning on his sword-hilt. Captain H—— told me he could not put on his overcoat without assistance, and that the hand is so weak he can do very little with it. There was nothing of a Hohenzollern hanging under-lip."
The following judgment was formed a year or two ago by an American diplomatist: "I have often met him," the diplomatist said,
"and only speak of the impression he made on me. I would describe him as intelligent rather than intellectual. He appreciates men of learning and of philosophic mind, and while not learned and philosophic himself, enjoys seeing the learned and philosophic at work, and gladly recognizes their merit when their labours are thorough and well done. His mind is marvellously quick, but it does not dwell on anything for long at a time. It takes in everything presented to it in, so to speak, a hop, skip, and jump.
"In company he is never at rest, and surprises one by his lively play of features and the entirely natural and unaffected expression of his thoughts. He is sitting at a lecture, perhaps, when a notion occurs to him, and forthwith indicates it by a humorous grimace or wink to some one sitting far away from him. He is always saying unexpected things. On the whole, he is a right good fellow, and I can imagine that, though he can come down hard on one with a heavy hand and stern look, he does not do so by the instinct of a despot, but acting under a sense of duty."
Another diplomatist has remarked the Emperor's habit in conversation of tapping the person he is talking to on the shoulder and of scrutinizing him all over—"ears, nose, clothes, until it makes one feel quite uncomfortable."
The next sketch of him is as he may be seen any day during the yachting week in June at Kiel:—
"The Emperor is in the smoking-room of the Yacht Club, dressed in a blue lounge suit with a white peaked cap. He is sitting carelessly on the side of a table, dangling his legs and discussing with fellow-members and foreign yachtsmen the experience of the day, now speaking English, now French, now German. He seems quite in his element as sportsman, and puts every one at ease round him. His expression is animated and his voice hearty, if a little strident to foreign ears. His right hand and arm are in ceaseless movement, emphasizing and enforcing everything he says. He asks many questions and often invites opinion, and when it differs from his own, as sometimes happens, he takes it quite good-humouredly."
To-day the Emperor is outwardly much the same as he has just been described. He is perhaps slightly more inclined to stoutness. His features, though they speak of cleverness and manliness, are forgotten as one looks into the keen and quickly moving grey eyes with their peculiar dash of yellow. He is well set up, as is proper for a soldier ever actively engaged in military duties, and his stride continues firm and elastic. He is still constantly in the saddle. His hair, still abundant, is yet beginning to show the first touches of the coming frost of age, and the reddish brown moustache, once famous for its haughtily upturned ends, has taken, either naturally or by the aid of Herr Haby, the Court barber, who attends him daily, a nearly level form.