THE NEW CENTURY (continued)

1902-1904

King George V has hardly been sufficiently long on the English throne for a contemporary to judge of the personal relations that exist between his Majesty and the Emperor as chief representatives of their respective nations. The King of England was, until June, 1913, hindered by various circumstances from paying a visit to the Court of Berlin, and rumours were current that relations between the two rulers were not as friendly as they might and should be. There is now every indication that though the relations of people to people and Government to Government vary in degrees of coolness or warmth, the two monarchs are on perfectly good terms of cousinship and amity.

A visit paid by King George, when Prince of Wales, to the Emperor in Potsdam at the opening of 1902 testified to the goodwill that then subsisted between them. It was the evening before the Emperor’s birthday, when the Emperor, at a dinner given by the officers of King Edward’s German regiment, the 1st Dragoon Guards, addressed the English Heir Apparent in words of hearty welcome. The address was not a long one, but in it the Emperor characteristically seized on the motto of the Prince of Wales, “Ich dien” (I serve), to make it the text of a laudatory reference to his young guest’s conduct and career. In its course the Emperor touched on the Prince’s tour of forty thousand miles round the world, and the effect his “winning personality” had had in bringing together loyal British subjects everywhere, and helping to consolidate the Imperium Britannicum, “on the territories of which,” as the Emperor said, doubtless with an imperial pang of envy, “the sun never sets.” The Prince, in his reply, tendered his birthday congratulations, and expressed his “respect” for the Emperor, the appropriate word to use, considering the ages and royal ranks of the Emperor and his younger first cousin.

With 1902 may be said to have begun the Emperor’s courtship (as it is often called in Germany) of America. His advances to the Dollar Princess since then have been unremitting and on the whole cordially, if somewhat coyly, received.

The growth of intercourse of all kinds between Germany and the United States is indeed one of the features of the reign. There are several reasons why it is natural that friendly relationship should exist. It has been said on good authority that thirty millions of American citizens have German blood in their veins. Frederick the Great was the first European monarch to recognize the independence of America. German men of learning go to school in America, and American men of learning go to school in Germany. A large proportion of the professors in American universities have studied at German universities. The two countries are thousands of miles apart, and are therefore less exposed to causes of international jealousy and quarrel between contiguous nations. On the other hand, the new place America has taken in the Old World, dating, it may be said roughly, from the time of her war with Spain (1898); the increase of her influence in the world, mainly through the efforts of brave, benevolent, and able statesmen; the expansion of her trade and commerce; the increase of the European tourist traffic; these factors also to some extent account for the growth of friendly intercourse between the peoples.

Nor should the bond between the two countries created by intermarriage be overlooked. If the well-dowered republican maid is often ambitious of union with a scion of the old European nobility, the usually needy German aristocrat is at least equally desirous of mating with an American heiress notwithstanding the vast differences in race-character, political sentiment, manners, and views of life and especially of the status and privileges of woman that must fundamentally separate the parties. Great unhappiness is frequently the result of such marriages, perhaps it may be said of a large proportion of international marriages, but cases of great mutual happiness are also numerous, and help to bring the countries into sympathy and understanding. Prince Buelow, when Chancellor, reminded the Reichstag, which was discussing an objection raised to the late Freiherr Speck von Sternburg, when German Ambassador to America, that he had married an American lady, that though Bismarck had laid down the rule that German diplomatists ought not to marry foreigners, he was quite ready to make exceptions in special cases, and that America was one of them. The Emperor is well known to have no objection to his diplomatic representative at Washington being married to an American, but rather to prefer it, provided, of course, that the lady has plenty of money.

A difficulty between Germany and Venezuela arose in 1902 owing to the ill-treatment suffered by German merchants in Venezuela in the course of the civil war in that country from 1898 to 1900.

The merchants complained that loans had been exacted from them by President Castro and his Government, and that munitions of war and cattle had been taken for the use of the army and left unpaid for. The amount of the claim was 1,700,000 Bolivars (francs), a sum that included the damage suffered by the merchants’ creditors in Germany. Similar complaints were made by English and Italian merchants. After several efforts on the part of Germany to obtain redress had failed, negotiations were broken off, the diplomatic representative of Germany was recalled, and finally the combined fleets of England, Germany, and Italy established a blockade of the Venezuelan coast. The difficulty was eventually referred to the Hague Court of Arbitration, which allowed the claims and directed payment of them on the security of the revenues of the customs ports of La Guayra and Puerto Cabella.

For a time the action of the Powers caused discussion of the Monroe doctrine on both sides of the Atlantic. On this side it was pointed out that American susceptibilities had been respected by the conduct of the Powers in not landing troops, while on the other side there were not wanting voices to exclaim that the naval demonstration went too near being a breach of the hallowed creed “hands off” the Western Hemisphere. The Monroe doctrine, it may be recalled, was contained in a message of President James Monroe, issued on February 2, 1823. It was drawn up by John Quincey Adams, and declared that the United States “regarded not only every effort of the Holy Alliance to extend its system to the Western Hemisphere as dangerous to the peace and freedom of the United States, but also every interference with the object of subverting any independent American Government in the light of unfriendliness towards America”; and it went on to declare that “the Continents of America should no more be regarded as fields for European colonization.”

The day, of course, may come when the American claim to the control, if not physical possession, of half the earth will be questioned by the Powers of Europe; but at present, as far as Germany is concerned, and notwithstanding the absurd idea that Germany plans the seizure one day of Brazil, the doctrine is of merely academic interest. For a few days four years later it became the subject of lively discussion in Germany and America owing to the first American Roosevelt professor, Professor Burgess, referring to it in his inaugural lecture before the Emperor and Empress as an “antiquated theory.” As soon, however, as it became apparent that Professor Burgess was giving utterance to a purely personal opinion, and was not in any sense the bearer of a message on the subject from the President, the discussion dropped.

Another American episode of the year was the visit of Prince Henry, the Emperor’s brother, to the United States. Prince Henry left for America in February. The visit was in reality made in pursuance of the Emperor’s world-policy of economic expansion, but there were not a few politicians in England and America to assert that it was part of a deep scheme of the Emperor’s to counteract too warm a development of Anglo-American friendship. However that may be, the visit was a striking one, even though it gave no great pleasure to Germans, who could not see any particular reason for it, nor any prospect of it yielding Germany immediate tangible return for trouble and expense. Prince Henry, it is said, though the most genial and democratic of Hohenzollerns, was a little taken back at the American freedom of manners, the wringing of hands, the slapping on the back, and other republican demonstrations of friendship; but he cannot have shown anything of such a feeling, for he was feted on all sides, and soon developed into a popular hero.

One of the incidents of the visit, previously arranged, was the christening of the Emperor’s new American-built yacht, Meteor III, by Miss Alice Roosevelt, the President’s daughter. On February 25th the Emperor received a cablegram from Prince Henry: “Fine boat, baptized by the hand of Miss Alice Roosevelt, just launched amid brilliant assembly. Hearty congratulations;” and at the same time one from the President’s daughter: “To his Majesty the Kaiser, Berlin Meteor successfully launched. I congratulate you, thank you for the kindness shown me, and send you my best wishes. Alice Roosevelt.”

During the visit the Emperor cabled to President Roosevelt his thanks and that of his people for the hospitable reception of his brother by all classes, adding:

“My outstretched hand was grasped by you with a strong, manly, and friendly grip. May Heaven bless the relations of the two nations with peace and goodwill! My best compliments and wishes to Alice Roosevelt.”

Reference to this cordial electric correspondence may close with mention of a telegram sent in reply to a message from Mr. Melville Stone, of the American Associated Press:

“Accept my thanks for your message. I estimate the great and sympathetic reception (it was a banquet) given to my dear brother by the newspaper proprietors of the United States very highly.”

Prince Henry returned to Germany on March 17th, a Doctor of Law of Harvard University.

There have been moments when people in America were influenced by other sentiments than those of entirely respectful admiration for the Emperor. It was with mixed feelings that the American public heard the news of his telegraphed offer to President Roosevelt in May, 1902, when, as the telegram said, the Emperor was “under the deep impression made by the brilliant and cordial reception” given to his brother, Prince Henry, to present to the American nation a statue of Frederick the Great, and coupled with the offer a proposal that the statue should be erected of all places in Washington! No one doubted the Emperor’s sincere desire to pay the highest compliment he could think of to a people to whom he felt grateful for the honour done to Germany in the person of his brother, but nearly every one smiled at the simplicity, or, as some called it, the want of political tact shown by offering the statue of a ruler whose name, to the vast majority of Americans, is synonymous with absolute autocracy, to a republic which prides itself on its civic ways and love of personal freedom. The gift was accepted by the American Government in the spirit in which it was offered, the spirit of goodwill. And why not? To the Emperor his great ancestor’s effigy is no symbol of autocracy, but the contrary, for to the Emperor and his subjects Frederick the Great is as much the Father of Prussia, the man who saved it and made it, as Washington was the Father of America. Besides, the spirit in which a gift is offered, not its value or appropriateness, is the thing to be considered.

Irritation in England was still strong against Germany on account of the latter’s easily understood race-sympathy with the Boers during the war just over, but the fact did not prevent the Emperor from accepting King Edward’s invitation to spend a few days at Sandringham with him in November this year on the occasion of his birthday. The Emperor took the Empress and two of his sons with him. The hostile temper of the time, both in England and Germany, was alluded to in a sermon preached in Sandringham Church by the then Bishop of London. It was notable for its insistence on the necessity of friendlier relations between England, Germany, and America, the three great branches of the Teutonic race. After the service the Emperor is reported to have exclaimed to the Bishop: “What you said was excellent, and is precisely what I try to make my people understand.”

As a proof that this was no merely complimentary utterance, but the expression of a thought which is constantly in the Emperor’s mind, an incident which happened at Kiel regatta in the month of June previously may be recalled. The American squadron, under the late Admiral Cotton, was paying an official visit to the Emperor during the Kiel “week” as a return honour for the visit of the Emperor’s brother, Prince Henry of Prussia, to the United States the year before. There was a constant round of festivities, and among them a lunch to the Emperor on board the Admiral’s flagship, the Kearsarge. Lunch over, the Emperor was standing in a group talking with his customary vivacity, but, as customary also, with his eyes taking in his surroundings like a well-trained journalist. Suddenly he noticed a set of flags, those of America, Germany, and England, twined together and mingling their colours in friendly harmony. He walked over, gathered the combined flags in his hand, and turning to the Admiral exclaimed in idiomatic American: “See here, Admiral; that is exactly as it should be, and is what I am trying for all the time.”

While in England the Emperor, in company with Lord Roberts and Sir Evelyn Wood, inspected his English regiment, the 1st Royal Dragoons. A curious and amusing feature of the visit was a lecture before the Royal Family at Sandringham by a German engineer, for whom the Emperor acted as interpreter, on a novel adaptation of spirit for culinary, lighting, and laundry purposes. The Emperor’s practical illustration of the use of the new heating system, as applied to the ordinary household flatiron, is said to have caused great merriment among his audience.

Germany’s home atmosphere about this time was for a moment troubled by an exhibition of the Emperor’s “personal regiment” in the form of a telegram to the Prince Regent of Bavaria, known in Germany as the “Swinemunde Despatch.” The Bavarian Diet, in a fit of economy, had refused its annual grant of L5,000 for art purposes. The Emperor was violently angry, wired to the Prince Regent his indignation with the Diet and offered to pay the L5,000 out of his own pocket. It was not a very tactful offer, to be sure, though well intended; and as his telegram was not an act of State, “covered” by the Chancellor’s signature, while the Bavarians in particular felt hurt at what they considered outside interference, Germans generally blamed it as a new demonstration of autocratic rule.

One or two other art incidents of the period may be noted. A domestic one was the gift to the Emperor by the Empress of a model of her hand in Carrara marble, life-sized, by the German sculptor, Rheinhold Begas. The Emperor, it is well known, has no special liking for the companionship of ladies, but he confesses to an admiration for pretty feminine hands. Another incident was the Emperor’s order to the painter, Professor Rochling, to paint a picture representing the famous episode in the China campaign, when Admiral Seymour gave the order “Germans to the Front.” It is to the present day a popular German engraving. The year was also remarkable for a visit to Berlin of Coquelin aine, the great French actor. The Emperor saw him in “Cyrano de Bergerac,” was, like all the rest of the play-going world, delighted with both play and player, and held a long and lively conversation with the artist. Lastly may be mentioned a telegram of the Emperor’s to the once-famed tragic actress, Adelaide Ristori, in Rome, congratulating her on her eightieth birthday and expressing his regret that he had never met her. A basket of flowers simultaneously arrived from the German Embassy.

We are now in 1903. During the preceding years the Emperor’s thoughts, as has been seen, were occupied with art as a means of educating his folk, purifying their sentiments, and, above all, making them faithful lièges of the House of Hohenzollern. By a natural association of ideas we find him this year thinking much and deeply about religion; for, though artists are not a species remarkable for the depth or orthodoxy of their views on religious matters, art and religion are close allies, and probably the greater the artist the more real religion he will be found to have.

In this year, accordingly, the Emperor made his remarkable confession of religious faith to his friend, Admiral Hollmann. He had just heard a lecture by Professor Delitzsch on “Babel und Bibel,” and as he considered the Professor’s views to some extent subversive of orthodox Christian belief, he took the opportunity to tell his people his own sentiments on the whole matter. In writing to Admiral Hollmann he instructed him to make the “confession” as public as possible, and it was published in the October number of the Grenzboten, a Saxon monthly, sometimes used for official pronouncements. The Emperor’s letter to Admiral Hollmann contained what follows:

“I distinguish between two different sorts of Revelation: a current, to a certain extent historical, and a purely religious, which was meant to prepare the way for the appearance of the Messiah. As to the first, I should say that I have not the slightest doubt that God eternally revealed Himself to the race of mankind He created. He breathed into man His breath, that is a portion of Himself, a soul. With fatherly love and interest He followed the development of humanity; in order to lead and encourage it further He ‘revealed’ Himself, now in the person of this, now of that great wise man, priest or king, whether pagan, Jew or Christian. Hammurabi was one of these, Moses, Abraham, Homer, Charlemagne, Luther, Shakespeare, Goethe, Kant, Kaiser William the Great these He selected and honoured with His Grace, to achieve for their peoples, according to His will, things noble and imperishable. How often has not my grandfather explicitly declared that he was an instrument in the hand of the Lord! The works of great souls are the gifts of God to the people, that they may be able to build further on them as models, that they may be able to feel further through the confusion of the undiscovered here below. Doubtless God has ‘revealed’ Himself to different peoples in different ways according to their situation and the degree of their civilization. Then just as we are overborne most by the greatness and might of the lovely nature of the Creation when we regard it, and as we look are astonished at the greatness of God there displayed, even so can we of a surety thankfully and admiringly recognize, by whatever truly great or noble thing a man or a people does, the revelation of God. His influence acts on us and among us directly.

“The second sort of Revelation, the more religious sort, is that which led up to the appearance of the Lord. From Abraham onward it was introduced, slowly but foreseeingly, all-wisely and all-knowingly, for otherwise humanity were lost. And now commences the astonishing working of God’s Revelation. The race of Abraham and the peoples that sprang from it regard, with an iron logic, as their holiest possession, the belief in a God. They must worship and cultivate Him. Broken up during the captivity in Egypt, the separated parts were brought together again for the second time by Moses, always striving to cling fast to monotheism. It was the direct intervention of God that caused this people to come to life again. And so it goes on through the centuries till the Messiah, announced and foreshadowed by the prophets and psalmists, at last appears, the greatest Revelation of God to the world. Then he appeared in the Son Himself; Christ is God; God in human form. He redeemed us, He spurs us on, He allures us to follow Him, we feel His fire burn in us, His sympathy strengthens us, His displeasure annihilates us, but also His care saves us. Confident of victory, building only on His word, we pass through labour, scorn, suffering, misery and death, for in His Word we have God’s revealed Word, and He never lies.

“That is my view of the matter. The Word is especially for us evangelicals made the essential thing by Luther, and as good theologian surely Delitzsch must not forget that our great Luther taught us to sing and believe ’Thou shalt suffer, let the Word stand.’ To me it goes without saying that the Old Testament contains a large number of fragments of a purely human historical kind and not ’God’s revealed Word.’ They are mere historical descriptions of events of all sorts which occurred in the political, religious, moral, and intellectual life of the people of Israel. For example, the act of legislation on Sinai may be regarded as only symbolically inspired by God, when Moses had recourse to the revival of perhaps some old-time law (possibly the codex, an offshoot of the codex of Hammurabi), to bring together and to bind together institutions of His people which were become shaky and incapable of resistance. Here the historian can, from the spirit or the text, perhaps construct a connexion with the Law of Hammurabi, the friend of Abraham, and perhaps logically enough; but that would no way lessen the importance of the fact that God suggested it to Moses and in so far revealed Himself to the Israelite people.

“Consequently it is my idea that for the future our good Professor would do well to avoid treating of religion as such, on the other hand continue to describe unmolested everything that connects the religion, manners, and custom of the Babylonians with the Old Testament. On the whole, I make the following deductions:

“1. I believe in One God.

“2. We humans need, in order to teach Him, a Form,
especially for our children.

“3. This Form has been to the present time the Old Testament in its existing tradition. This Form will certainly decidedly alter considerably with the discovery of inscriptions and excavations; there is nothing harmful in that, it is even no harm if the nimbus of the Chosen People loses much thereby. The kernel and substance remain always the same God, namely, and His work.

“Never was religion a result of science, but a gushing out
of the heart and being of mankind, springing from its
intercourse with God.”

It is anticipating by a few months, but part of a speech the Emperor made in Potsdam at the confirmation of his two sons, August Wilhelm and Oscar two Hohenzollerns as yet not distinguished for anything in particular may be quoted in this connexion. Naturally he began by comparing his sons’ spiritual situation with that of a soldier on the day he takes the oath of allegiance: they were vorgemerkt, that is, predestined as “fighters for Christ.” “What is demanded of you,” the imperial father went on, “is that you shall be personalities. This is the point which, in my opinion, is the most important for the Christian in daily life. For there can be no doubt that we can say of the person of the Lord, that He is the most ‘personal personality’ who has ever wandered among the sons of men.... You will read of many great men savants, statesmen, kings and princes, of poets also: but nevertheless no word of man has ever been uttered worthy of comparison with the words of Christ; and I say this to you so that you may be in a position to bear it out when you are in the midst of life’s turmoil and hear people discussing religion, especially the personality of Christ. No word of man has ever succeeded in making people of all races and all people enthusiastic for the same cause, namely, to imitate Him, even to sacrifice their lives for Him. The wonder can only be explained by assuming that what He said were the words of the living God, which are the source of life, and continue to live thousands of years after the words of the wise have been forgotten. That is my personal experience and it will be yours.

“The pivot and turning-point,” he continued,

“of our mortal life, especially of a life full of responsibility and labour that is clearer and clearer to me every year I live lies simply and solely in the attitude a man adopts towards his Lord and Saviour;”

and he concludes by exhorting his sons to disregard what people may say about the cult of Christ being irreconcilable with the tasks and responsibilities of “modern” life, but simply to do their best, whatever their occupation, to become a personality after Christ’s example.

This is a sound and just statement of Christian faith, and it is quoted here to justify the view that the Emperor’s soldiers and his Dreadnoughts, his mailed fist and shining armour, are built and put on in the spirit of precaution and defence. The attitude, it cannot of course be denied, is based on the un-Christlike assumption that all men (and particularly all peoples and their governments and diplomatists) are liars; but in his favour it may be urged that for that saying the Emperor could cite Biblical authority. And yet there is an inconsistency; for the saying is that of one of those same wise men whose words, the Emperor admits, are transitory and mortal.

It is possible that the Emperor had a presentiment of some kind that his life was now in danger, and that the presentiment may have attuned his thoughts to meditation on Christ’s life and teaching; for it is a fact, well worthy of remark, that in the fear of death man’s one and only relief and consolation is the knowledge that there was, and is, a mediator for him with his Creator. The address at his sons’ confirmation was delivered on October 17th, and on Sunday morning, November 8th all the world, it is hardly too much to say, was astonished and pained to learn, by a publication in the Official Gazette, that the Emperor the day before had had to submit to a serious operation on his throat. The announcement spoke of a polypus, or fungoid growth, which had had to be removed; but all over the world the conclusion was come to that the mortal affliction of the father had fallen on the son and that the Emperor was a doomed man. Most providentially and happily it was nothing of the sort. On the 9th the Emperor was out of bed and signing official papers, on the 15th he was allowed to talk in whispers, and on the 17th it was declared by the physicians that all danger was over and that no more bulletins would be issued. On December 14th the Emperor received a congratulatory visit from the President of the Reichstag, who reported to Parliament his impression that “the Emperor had completely recovered his old vigour (great applause) and that his voice was again clear and strong.”

The Emperor had passed through what one may suppose to have been the darkest hour of his life. He was naturally in high spirits, and a few days after went to Hannover, where he made a martial speech in which he toasted the German Legion for having “by its unforgettable heroism, in conjunction with Bluecher and his Prussians, saved the English army from destruction at Waterloo,” a view, of course, which to an Englishman has all the charm of novelty.

One or two further memorable incidents of 1903 may be recorded. Theodore Mommsen, the now aged historian of Rome, the greatest scholar of his time, died in November. He was in his day a Liberal parliamentarian of no mean ability; but for such men there is no career in Germany. However, as it turned out, the German people’s loss proved to be all the world’s gain. A son of the historian now represents a district of Berlin in the Reichstag. Two years before the historian’s death an exchange of telegrams in Latin took place between him and the Emperor. The occasion was the Emperor’s laying the foundation-stone of a museum on the plateau where the old Roman castle, known as the Saalburg, stands. The Emperor telegraphed:

“Theodoro Mommseno, antiquitatum romanarum investigatori incomparabili, praetorii Saalburgensis fundamenta jaciens salutem dicit et gratias agit Guilelmus Germanorum Imperator.”

To which the historian, with a modesty equal to his courtesy, replied: “Germanorum principi, tam majestate quam humanitate, gratias agit antiquarius Lietzelburgensis.”

Mention may also be made of a very characteristic speech of the Emperor’s this year at Cuestrin, where he was unveiling a monument to a favourite Hohenzollern, the Great Elector. Cuestrin, it will be remembered, is the town where Frederick the Great, another of the Emperor’s favourites, was imprisoned by an angry father, along with his friend Lieutenant Katte, when Frederick was trying to escape the parental cruelty and violence.

Referring to Frederick’s declaration that he was the “first servant of the State,” the Emperor said:

“He could only learn to be so by subordination, by obedience, in a word by what we Prussians describe as discipline. And this discipline must have its roots in the King’s house as in the house of the citizen, in the army as among the people. Respect for authority, obedience to the Crown, and obedience to parental and paternal influence that is the lesson the memories of to-day should teach us. From these attributes spring those which we call patriotism, namely the subordination of the individual ego, of the individual subject, to the welfare of all. It is what is particularly needed at the present time.”

The Emperor was, of course, thinking of the Social Democrats. Having finished his speech, he went and for a while stood thoughtfully at the historic window of Cuestrin Castle, from which Frederick watched the execution of his unfortunate companion, Katte.

Only the year 1904 separates us from the Emperor’s Morocco adventure. The economic ideas which have been referred to as the basis of German foreign policy were germinating in his mind, and the plans for at least a partial realization of them were working in his head. Addressing the chief burgomaster of Karlsruhe in April, just a year before he started for Tangier, he spoke of Weltpolitik. “You are right,” he told the burgomaster,

“in saying that the task of the German people is a hard one.... I hope our peace will not be disturbed, and that the events that are now happening will open our eyes, steel our courage, and find us united, if it should be necessary for us to intervene in world-policy.”

The Emperor had, no doubt, specially in mind the birth of the Anglo-French Entente and the war between Russia and Japan, both events forming the dominant factors of the political situation at this time. The Russo-Japanese War arose primarily from the unwillingness of Russia to evacuate Manchuria after the Boxer troubles in China. The incidents of the war are still fresh in public memory.

It need only be recalled here that Germany was neutral throughout the conflict, that both President Roosevelt and the Emperor offered their services as mediators in its course, and that on the capture of Port Arthur by Admiral Nogi, in January, 1905, the Emperor telegraphed his bestowal of the Ordre pour lé Merile on General Stoessel, the Russian defender of Port Arthur, and on Admiral Nogi.

In the troubled history of Anglo-German relations is to be recorded the presence, in June of this year, of King Edward VII at Kiel with a squadron of battleships to pay an official visit to his nephew. The two fleets, those sunny days, formed a splendid spectacle the two mightiest police forces, the Emperor would probably agree in saying, the world could produce. In fact, the Emperor had some such thought in mind, for he addressed King Edward as follows:

“Your Majesty has been welcomed by the thunder of the guns of the German fleet. It is the youngest navy in the world and an expression of the reviving sea-power of the new German Empire, founded by the late great Emperor, designed for the protection of the Empire’s trade and territory, and intended, equally with the German army, for the preservation of peace.”

One or two other incidents of interest in the Emperor’s life may close the record of this year. One of them was the arrival of the Italian composer, Leoncavallo, in Berlin, to hand the Emperor the text of the opera “Der Roland von Berlin,” Leoncavallo had composed at the Emperor’s express request. Roland was a “strong, valiant and pious” knight of Charlemagne’s time like the Emperor, let us say who originally hailed from Brittany that lone and lovely Cinderella of France and afterwards, for some unexplained reason, came to be the type of municipal independence in Germany.

During the summer the Emperor and the Empress made an excursion, when on the Saalburg, to the statues of the Roman Emperors Hadrian and Severus. Did the Emperor recall, one wonders, as he stood before the figure of Hadrian, that pagan monarch’s address to his soul:

“Animula vagula, blandula,
Hospes, comesque corporis,
Quae nunc abibis in loca,
Pallidula, rigida, nudula,
Nee, ut soles, dabis jocós?”

It sounds a little gloomy as a quotation, but, fortunately for Germany and the Emperor, for “nunc” can be put, pace the poet, the indefinite, yet all too definite, “aliquando.”