The Englishman is as loyal to his King as the German is to his Emperor, and England, as little as Germany, is disposed to change from monarchy to republicanism. But the Englishman's political and social governor, guide, and executive is not the King, but the Parliament; because while in the King he has a worthy representative of the nation's historical development and dignity, in the Parliament he sees a powerful and immediate reflection of himself, his own wishes, and his own judgments. Moreover, with the spread of democratic ideas, the position of a monarch anywhere in the civilized world to-day is not what it was fifty years ago. The general progress in education since then; the drawing together of the nations by common commercial and financial interests; the incessant activity of writers and publishers; the circulation and power of the Press—themselves almost threatening to become a despotism—such facts as these tend to change the relations between kings and peoples. Monarchs and men are changing places; the ruler becomes the subject, the subject ruler; it is the people who govern, and the monarch obeys the people's will.
Such is not the view of the German Emperor nor of the German people. To both the monarch is no "shadow-king," as both are fond of calling the King of England, but an Emperor of flesh and blood, commissioned to take the leading part in decisions binding on the nation, responsible to no one but the Almighty, and the sole bestower of State honours. There are, it is true, three factors of imperial government constitutionally—the Emperor, the Federal Council, and the Imperial Parliament; but while the Council has only very indirect relations with the people, the Parliament, a consultative body for legislation, is not the depositary of power or authority, or an assembly to which either the Emperor, or the Council, or the Imperial Chancellor is responsible. It must be admitted that, while such is the constitutional theory, the actual practice is to a considerable extent different. The Emperor is no absolute monarch, even in the domain of foreign affairs, as he is often said to be, but is influenced and guided, certainly of late years, both by the Federal Council and by public opinion, the power of which latter has greatly augmented in recent times. Whether the Reichstag really represents public opinion in the Empire is a moot-point in Germany itself. It can hardly be denied that it does so, at least in financial matters, since with regard to them it has all the powers, or almost all, possessed by the English House of Commons in this respect. Where its powers fail, it is said, is in regard to administration; for though it deliberates on and passes legislation, it is left by the Constitution to the Emperor and his Ministers to issue instructions as to how legislation is to be carried into effect. The result is to throw excessive power over public comfort and convenience into the hands of the official class of all degrees, which naturally employs it to maintain its own dignity and privileged position.
Towards one class of the population, and that a highly important and exceptional one, the Emperor's attitude of unprejudiced goodwill has never varied. Israelites form only a small proportion—about 1 per cent.—of the whole people, and are to be found in very large numbers only in Berlin and Frankfurt; but to their financial and commercial ability Germany owes a debt one may almost describe as incalculable. There is a strong national prejudice against them in all parts of the Empire, as there probably is in all countries, and it must be admitted that the manners and customs of the lower-class Jew, his unpleasant and insistent curiosity, his intrusiveness where he is not desired, his want of cleanliness, his sharpness at a bargain, his oily bearing to those he wishes to propitiate and his ruthless sweating of the worker in all fields when in his power, are all disagreeable personal qualities. There is also, as a concomitant of the nation's growth in wealth of every sort, and mostly perhaps to be found in the capital a class of Jewish parvenu, remarkable for snobbishness, ostentation, and affectation.
But one must distinguish; and of a large percentage of the educated class of Jew in Germany it would be difficult to speak too highly. Germans may be the "salt of the earth," as the Emperor once told them they were, but Jewish talent can with quite as much, perhaps more, justice be called the salt of German prosperity. And not alone in the region of finance and commerce. Some of the best intellect, most of the leading enterprise in Germany, in all important directions, is Jewish. Many of her ablest newspaper proprietors and editors are Jews. Many of her finest actors and actresses are Jews and Jewesses. Many of her cleverest lawyers, doctors, and artists are Jews. The career of Herr Albert Ballin, the Jewish director of the Hamburg-Amerika line, the Emperor's friend, to whom Germany owes a great deal of her mercantile marine expansion, is a long romance illustrative of Jewish organizing power and success.
The Emperor's friendship for Herr Ballin is obviously not entirely disinterested, but the interest at the root of it is an imperial one. In this spirit he cultivates to-day, as he has done since he took over the Empire, the society of all his subjects, German or Jew, who either by their talents or through their wealth can contribute to the success of the mighty task which occupies his waking thoughts, and for all one knows, his sleeping thoughts—his dreams—as well. Accordingly, the wealthy German is quite aware that if he is to be reckoned among the Emperor's friends he must be prepared to pay for the privilege, since the Emperor is neither slow nor shy about using his influence in order to make the more fortunate members of the community put their hands deeply into their pockets for national purposes. A little time ago he invited a number of merchant princes and captains of industry, as American papers invariably call wealthy Germans, to a Bier-abend at the palace. When the score or so of guests were seated, he announced that he was collecting subscriptions for some public object—the national airship fund, perhaps—and sent a sheet of paper to Herr Friedlander Fuld, the "coal-king" of Germany, to head the list. Herr Fuld wrote down L5,000, and the paper was taken back to the Emperor. "Oh, this will never do, lieber Fuld," he exclaimed, on seeing the amount. "At this rate people will be putting down their names for L50. You must at least double it." And Herr Fuld had to do so. A few weeks afterwards there was another invitation to the palace, and the same sort of scene took place. A little later still Herr Fuld got a third invitation, and as an imperial invitation is equivalent to a command, he had to go. When he arrived he noticed his fellow-industrials looking uneasy, not to say sad. The Emperor noticed it too, for his first words were: "Dear gentlemen, to-night the beer costs nothing."
Throughout the reign Germany has made it her constant policy to cultivate friendly relations with the United States. Chancellor von Buelow, in 1899, apropos of Samoa, said in the Reichstag: "We can confidently say that in no other country has America during the last hundred years found better understanding and more just recognition than in Germany." This is true of the educated classes, professional, professorial, and scientific; but the ordinary European German, who does not know and understand America, still displays no particular love for the ordinary American. At the same time he probably prefers him to the people of any other nation. American outspokenness in politics, for example, must be refreshing to minds penned within the limits of the Rechtstaat. He sees in them, too, millionaires, or at least people who come from a country where money is so abundant that, as many country-people still think, you have only to stoop to pick it up. When it comes to business, however, he is a little afraid of their somewhat too sanguine enterprise, and is given to suspect that a "bluff" of some sort is behind the simplest business proposition. Much of this, of course, is due to ignorance heightened by yellow journalism, for as a rule only the vastly interesting, but mostly untrue, "stories" regarding Germany printed in the yellow press come back to the Fatherland.
The German, again, is made uneasy by what he thinks the hasty manners of the Americans; he considers them uncivil. So, let it be admitted, they sometimes appear to be to people of other nationalities; but then as a rule Americans who jar on European nerves will be found to hail from places where life, to use the American expression, is "woolly," or too strenuous to allow of the delicacies of real refinement. The ordinary idea of the German in Germany, held by the stay-at-home American, is a vague species of dislike, founded on the conviction that the American, not the German, is the salt of the earth; that the German regard for tradition makes them a slow and slowly moving race; and that the Emperor as War Lord—for he is almost solely known to him in that capacity—must be ever desirous of war, in particular wishes to seize a coaling-station or even a country, in South America, and, generally speaking, set at naught the Monroe doctrine. The Governments on both sides, of course, know and understand each other better. In November, 1906, Prince Buelow publicly thanked America for her attitude at Algeciras, implying that it was due to her representative's conciliatory and reconciliatory conduct that the Conference did not end in a fiasco. "This," said the Chancellor, "was the second great service to the world rendered by America; the other," he added, "being the bringing about of peace between Russia and Japan."
A great deal of the increased intercourse between the two countries is due to the personal endeavours of the Emperor. What his motives are may be conjectured with fair accuracy from a general knowledge of his "up-to-date" character, the commercial policy of his Empire, and the events of recent years. He has a whole-hearted admiration for the American character and genius, so akin in many ways to his own character and genius; and if he refuses to recommend for Germans similar institutions to those in States, federated in a manner somewhat analogous to that of the kingdoms and States composing his own Empire, it is not from want of liberality of mind, but because they are wholly opposed to Prussian tradition, because his people do not demand them, and because he honestly believes that in respect of topographical situation, climate, historical development, and race feelings and sentiment, the safeguards and requirements of Germany are widely different from those of America.
As a young man he naturally had very little to do with America or Americans, though among his schoolboy playmates was a young American, Poulteney Bigelow, who afterwards wrote an excellent appreciation of the fine traits in the Emperor's character. At the same time the Emperor himself has stated that the country always interested him, and recent visitors bear out the statement fully. In 1889, a year after his accession, he expressed his admiration for America, when receiving the American Ambassador, Mr. Phelps. "From my youth on," the Emperor said,
"I have had a great admiration for that powerful and progressive commonwealth which you are called on to represent, and the study of its history in peace and war has had for me at all times a special interest. Among the many distinguished characteristics of your people, which draw to them the attention of the whole world, are their enterprising spirit, their love of order, and their talent for invention. The predominant sentiment of both peoples is that of affinity and tested friendship, and the future can only strengthen the heartiness of their relations."
More than twenty years have elapsed since the words were uttered, and the prediction has been fulfilled.
Scores of anecdotes, it need hardly be said, are current in connexion with the Emperor and American friends. One of them is that of an American, Mr. Frank Wyberg, the husband of a lady who, with her children, used often to visit Mr. and Mrs. Armour on their yacht Uttowana at Kiel, there met the Emperor, and was invariably kindly greeted by him. Mr. Wyberg was summoned with his friend, General Miles, to an audience of the Emperor in Berlin. Before going to the palace Mr. Wyberg went to a well-known picture-dealer in the city and bought a small but artistic painting costing about L1,000. He had the picture neatly done up, and carried it off under his arm to the hotel where he was to meet General Miles. As they were leaving for the palace the General asked Mr. Wyberg what he was carrying. "Oh, only a trifle for the Kaiser!" was the reply. The General was horrified, and tried to dissuade his friend from bringing the picture, telling him that the proper procedure was to ask through the Foreign Office or the American Embassy for the Emperor's gracious acceptance of it. Otherwise the Emperor would be annoyed, he would think badly of American manners, and so on. Mr. Wyberg, however, was not to be deterred, and insisted that it would be "all right." While waiting in the reception-room for the Emperor, Mr. Wyberg unwrapped the picture and placed it leaning against the wall on a piano. By and by the Emperor came in, and almost the first thing he said, after shaking hands, was to ask what the presence of the picture meant. Mr. Wyberg explained that it was a mark of gratitude for the kindness the Emperor had shown his wife and children at Kiel. The Emperor smiled, said it was a very kind thought, and willingly accepted the gift. The story has a sequel. A day or two after a Court official called at the hotel, to get from General Miles Mr. Wyberg's initials, and after another few days had passed reappeared with a bulky parcel. On being opened the parcel was found to consist of a large silver loving-cup, with Mr. Wyberg's name chased upon it, and underneath the words, "From Wilhelm II."
Another anecdote refers to an American naval attache, a favourite of the Emperor's. Dinner at the palace was over, and the attache, wishing to keep a memento of the occasion, took his large menu card and concealed it, as he thought, between his waistcoat and his shirt. Unfortunately, when taking leave of the Emperor, the card slipped down and part of it became visible. The Emperor's quick eye immediately noticed it. "Hallo! H——," he exclaimed; "look out, your dickey's coming down!" The story shows the Emperor's acquaintance with English slang as well as his geniality.
The Emperor seems to take pleasure in displaying himself to Americans in as republican a light as possible, and when he desires the company of an American friend, stands on no sort of ceremony. The American's telephone bell may ring at any hour of the day or evening, and a voice is heard—"Here royal palace. His Majesty wishes to ask if the Herr So-and-So will come to the palace this evening for dinner." On one occasion this happened to Professor Burgess. The telephone at the Hotel Adlon in Berlin rang up from Potsdam about six in the afternoon, and there was so little time for the Professor to catch his train that he was forced to finish his dressing en route. Or the invitation may be for "a glass of beer" after dinner, about nine o'clock.
If it is a dinner invitation, the guest, in evening clothes, with his white tie doubtless a trifle more carefully adjusted than usual, drives or walks to the palace. He enters a gate on the south side facing the statue of Frederick the Great, and under the archway finds a doorway with a staircase leading immediately to the royal apartments on the first floor. In an ante-room are other guests, a couple of Ministers, the Rector Magnificus of the university, and perhaps a "Roosevelt" or "exchange" professor; and if the party is not one of men only, such as the Emperor is fond of arranging, and the Empress is expected, the wives also of the invited guests. Without previous notice the Emperor enters, an American lover of slang might almost say "blows in," with quick steps and a bustling air that instantly fills the room with life and energy, and showing a cheery smile of welcome on his face. The guests are standing round in a half or three-quarter circle, and the Emperor goes from one to the other, shaking hands and delivering himself of a sentence or two, either in the form of a question or remark, and then passing on. When it is not a bachelors' party, the Empress comes in later with her ladies. A servant in the royal livery of red and gold, on a signal from the Emperor, throws open a door leading to the dining-room, and the Emperor and Empress enter first. The guests take their places according to the cards on the table. If it is a men's party of, say, four guests, the Emperor will seat them on his right and left and immediately opposite, with an adjutant or two as makeweights and in case he should want to send for plans or books. On these occasions he is usually in the dark blue uniform of a Prussian infantry general, with an order or two blazing on his breast. He sits very upright, and starts and keeps going the conversation with such skill and verve that soon every one, even the shyest, is drawn into it. There is plenty of argument and divergence of view. If the Emperor is convinced that he is right, he will, as has more than once occurred, jestingly offer to back his opinion with a wager. "I'll bet you"—he will exclaim, with all the energy of an English schoolboy. He enjoys a joke or witticism immensely, and leans back in his chair as he joins in the hearty peal about him. When cigars or cigarettes are handed round, he will take an occasional puff at one of the three or four cigarettes he allows himself during the evening, or sip at a glass of orangeade placed before him and filled from time to time. When he feels disposed he rises, and having shaken hands with his guests, now standing about him, retires into his workroom. A few moments later the guests disperse.
Conversation, both in England and Germany, sometimes turns on the question whether or not the Emperor will be known to future generations as William "the Great." It is agreed on all sides that he will not take a place among the mediocrities or sink into oblivion. We have, though only negatively and indirectly, his own view of the matter, if, that is, it may be deduced from the fact that he has more than once tried to attach this epitheton ornans to the memory of his grandfather. At Hamburg in 1891 he desired a statue to the Emperor William I to bear the inscription "William the Great." The cool common sense of the cautious Hamburgers refused to anticipate the decision of posterity and placed on the pedestal the simple words "William the First." In deference to the Emperor's well-known wishes, if not at his request, the Hamburg-Amerika line of steamers christened one of their ocean greyhounds Wilhelm der Grosse. The mere fact that people discuss the question in his lifetime is of happy augury for the Emperor. Perhaps some other epithet will be found for him. "Puffing Billy" is one of his titles among English officers, taken from the name given locally to Stephenson's first locomotive. But history has many ranks in her peerage and many epithets at her disposal—great, good, fair, lionhearted, silent—that the Emperor will not have—and a host more. Maybe the greatest rulers were those whom history, as though in despair of finding a single term with which to do them justice, has refrained from decorating. Timur, Akbar, Attila, Julius Caesar, Elizabeth, Victoria, Napoleon have no epithets, and need none. However, it is clear that a verdict on the Emperor's deserts is premature. Suppose him at the bar of history. The case is still proceeding, the evidence is not complete, counsel have not been heard, and—most obvious defect of any—the jury has not been impanelled.
More than half a century has passed since the Emperor was born. How time flies!
"Alas, alas, O Postumus, Postumus, The years glide by and are lost to us, lost to us."
But not the memories they enshrine. It is, let us imagine, the night of the Emperor's Jubilee, and he lies in the old Schloss, still awake, reflecting on the past. What a multitude of happenings, gay and grave, throng to his recollection, what a glorious and crowded canvas unrolls itself before his mental vision! The toy steamer on the Havel; the games in the palace corridors, with the grim features of the Great Elector betrayed, one is tempted to think, into a half-smile as he watches the innocent gaiety of the romping children from the old wainscoted walls; the irksome but disciplinary hours in the Cassel schoolroom; the youthful escapades with those carefree Borussian comrades at the university on the broad bosom of Father Rhine; the excursions and picnics among the Seven Hills; the visits to England, its crowded and bustling capital, its country seats with their pleasant lawns and stately oaks; the war-ships in the Solent, with their black mass and frowning guns, as they towered, like Milton's Leviathan, above his head.
What a good time it was, and how rich in manifold and picturesque impressions!
The canvas continues to unroll and a literary period opens—that age between youth and manhood, of all ages most passionate and ideal, when we are enthralled and moved by what we read—by those studies which
"adolescentiam agunt, senectutem oblectant, secundas res ornant, adversis perfugium ac solatium praebent, delectant domi, non impediunt foris; pernoctant nobiscum, peregrinantur, rusticantur."
It was the Lohengrin period, when, filled with the ardour and imaginativeness of high-souled youth, the future Emperor was dimly thinking of all he would do in the days to come for the happiness and prosperity of his people, nay, of all mankind.
Another tableau presents itself. Life has now become real and the Emperor's soldiering days have begun—never to conclude! His regiment is his world; parades and drills, the orderly-room and the barrack square occupy his time; and would seem monotonous and hard but for the little Eden with its Eve close beside them.
The Emperor turns uneasily, for his thoughts recur to the painful circumstances of his accession; but calmness soon succeeds as the curtain rises on the splendid panorama of the reign. He sees himself, a young and hitherto unknown actor, leaving the wings and taking the very centre of the stage, while the vast audience sits silent and attentive, as yet hardly grasping the significance of his words and gestures, emphatic though they are. And then he recalls the years of Sturm und Drang, the growth of Empire in spite of grudging rivals and of fellow-countrymen as yet not wholly conscious of their destinies, which one can now see constituted a whole drama in themselves, fraught with great consequences to the world.
But we are keeping the Emperor awake when he should be left to well-deserved repose. He has doubtless half forgotten it all; the Bismarck episode is one of those
"... old, unhappy, far-off things And battles long ago"
of which the poet sings. One unquiet political care excepted, all the rest must be pleasant for him to remember—the rising with the dawn, the hurried little breakfast with the Empress, the pawing horses of the adjutants and escort in the courtyard of the palace; the constant travelling in and far beyond the Empire; the incessant speech-making, with its appeals to the past and its promises, nobly realized, of "splendid days" in the future—its calls to the people to arms, to the sea, to the workshop, to school, to church, to anything praiseworthy, provided only it was action for the common good; the dockyards in Kiel and Danzig, with their noise of "busy hammers closing rivets up"; the ever-swelling trade statistics; and the proud feeling that at last his country was coming into her own.
Even the sensation the Emperor caused from time to time in other countries must have had a certain charm for him—endless telegrams, endless scathing editorials, endless movement and excitement. There is no fun like work, they say. The Emperor worked hard and enjoyed working. It was the "personal regiment," maybe, and it could not last for ever; but while it did it was doubtless very gratifying, and, notwithstanding all his critics say, magnificently successful.
Those strenuous times are long over, and if strenuous times have yet to come they will find the Emperor alert and knowing better how to deal with them. He has, one may be sure, no thoughts of well-earned rest or dignified repose—he probably never will, with his strong conception of duty and his interest in the fortunes of his Empire. Still, he is a good deal changed. Time has taught him more than his early tutor, worthy Dr. Hinzpeter, ever taught him; and if his spring was boisterous, and his summer gusty and uncertain, a mellow autumn gives promise of a hale and kindly winter.
Abdul Aziz, 259.
Absolutism, 2, 295, 368 seq.
Accession, date, I; period, 69 seq.
Aegir, Song to, 224.
Agadir, 264 seq.
Alexandra, Queen, 327.
Algeciras Conference, 261 seq.; Act of, 262.
Alsace-Lorraine, 84 seq.
America, art exhibition, 222; Germany and, 238; Frederick the Great and, 242; squadron at Kiel, 244; commercial relations with, 331, 380 seq.
Anarchism, 42 seq.
Anglo-French Agreement, 1904, 259 seq.
Anglo-German Agreement, 1890, 140; 1904, 335; relations, 4-7, 243, 282, 335 seq.
Anglo-Japanese Agreement, 201.
Arbitration, compulsory, 340.
Aristocracy, German, 114.
Armament, limitation of, 340.
Army, accession speech to, 69; importance of, 71; true character of, 285; Emperor and, 294.
Art, Emperor on, 202, 205 seq.; speech to sculptors, 207; German ideals, 218.
Attempt on, Emperor, 202; on William I, 42.
Augusta, Empress, wife of William I, 43, 45.
Auguste, Victoria, present Empress, 37 seq.
"Babel und Bibel," 246.
Baghdad railway, 200.
Battenberg affair, 55.
Bebel, August, 58, 90, 359. See Social Democracy
Bennigsen, von, 13.
Berlin palace (Schloss), 114.
Bethmann Hollweg, 322 seq.
Biedermeier time, 167.
Bismarck, 13; Empress Fred. and, 44; William I and, 43 seq.; on Divine Right, 60 seq.; on foreign policy, 76; resignation, 104,133; Emperor and, 49, 131; "blood and iron" speech, 128; Emperor's account of quarrel with, 135; journey to Vienna, 141; death, 143.
"Bloc" party, 281, 288, 322.
Boer war, German policy and, 156, 303.
Bonn, Emperor at, 29; address at, 203.
Borussia, 30, 36, 203.
Bosnia and Herzegovina, 329.
Boulanger, 52, 76.
Boxer troubles, 46, 194 seq.
"Brilliant second" speech, 279.
Brooks, Sydney, 361.
Buelow, Prince von, 47; succeeds Hohenlohe, 187; fainting fit, 322; resignation, 322.
Burgess, Prof., 241.
Butler, Dr. Nicholas Murray, 272.
Byzantinism, 121 seq.
Caprivi, von, 141; treaties, 141, 152 seq.; chancellorship, 151.
Caroline Islands, 151.
Centrum, 3, 280.
Chamberlain, Mr., 158, 258.
Chamberlain, Stewart, 348.
Chancellor, "responsibility," 289 seq.
China, relations with, 193; Boxer indemnity, 197.
Chun, Prince, 197 seq.
Churchill, Winston, 337.
Colonial development, 148 seq.
Commercial treaties, 152; American, 331.
Constitution, German and British compared, 57.
Corps, student, 30 seq.
Crown Prince, 14, 18; income, 112; marriage, 270; Indian tour, 328; at English coronation, 339; in aeroplane, 359.
Court, comparison with English, 109; nobility, 113.
Daily Telegraph, interview, 302 seq.; text of, 304; Buelow and, 311 seq.; Emperor's undertaking, 310.
Delcasse, 261, 282.
Delitzsch, Prof., 246.
Dewey, Admiral, 170.
Dictator Paragraph, 86.
Diedrich, Admiral, 170.
Dingley tariff, 331.
Divine Right, 331 seq.
Dreibund, see Triple Alliance.
Dreyfus case, 178.
Dual Alliance. (Germany and Austria), 79; (Russia and France), 141.
Duel, see Mensur.
Dynasty, see Hohenzollern.
Education, Emperor on, 98 seq.
Edward VII, at Kiel, 253; visits Berlin, 323; funeral, 327.
Elector, Great, 64, 72.
Emperor, birth, 12; marriage, 37; brothers and sisters, 18; offspring, 40; first visit England, 20; at Bonn, 29; on Art, 207; and theatre, 355; on religion, 246; character, 363 seq.; and people, 368, 372.
Empress, present, marriage, 37; character, 39.
Farmer, Emperor as, 334.
Finance reform, 321.
Fleet, English, at Kiel, 253; American, 244. See Navy.
Flora bust, 324 seq.
Foreign policy, in Orient, 199 seq.; Emperor's, 269.
France, and Germany, 51; Franco-German Agreement, 1911, 266.
Frankfort, treaty of, 153.
Frederick the Great, death, 120; tomb, 121; and navy, 167; statue, 242; Emperor and, 251.
Frederick III, 14; as Crown Prince, 45; last illness, 54.
Frederick, Empress, 15 seq.; Bismarck and, 44; death, 204.
Future, "Our future lies on the water," 203.
General Elections, 280, 333.
"Germans to the Front," 245.
Germany, "Greater," 146; to-day, 366; foreign policy, 199, 269.
George V, 174, 237, 339.
George, Lloyd, speech, 336.
Goluchowski, Count, 279.
Goschen, Lord, 160.
Government, dynastic not democratic, 56 seq.
Great Elector, Emperor and, 72; German navy and, 166.
Grey, Sir Edward, 338.
Grieg, composer, 225; death, 287.
Griscom, ambassador, 319.
Guildhall, speech at, 1891, 75; 1907, 283.
Hamburg-Amerika line, 367.
Harvard University, 272.
Heine, 13, 374.
Henry, Prince, 18; sent Kiautschau, 165; visits America, 241.
Highcliffe Castle, 285.
Hill, Dr. D.J., 318 seq.
Hinzpeter, Dr., 287.
Hoedel, attempt, 43.
Hohenlohe-Schillingsfuerst, Prince, 47; character, 153; chancellor, 185; resigns, 187.
Hohenzollern, 2, 11, 17, 23, 41, 56, 72; Divine Right and, 62 seq., 332.
Iltis, gunboat, 195.
Italy, 261 seq.
Jameson raid, Emperor's telegram on, 154; date of, 159.
Jews, Emperor and, 378.
Journalists, attack on, 329.
Ketteler, von, murder of, 195.
Kiautschau, 145, 150.
Kiel, canal, 144; first regatta, do.; harbour, 168; American squadron at, 244; Edward VII at, 253.
Koenigsberg, speech at, 332.
Kruger, telegram, the, 154 seq.; European tour, 155.
Kulturkampf, Emperor and, 50.
Labour Party, 93.
Liberalism, Emperor and, 126.
Liman, Dr. Paul, 62, 360.
Limitation of armaments, 340.
List, Prof., 168.
Lloyd George, speech, 336.
Louise, Queen, 41.
Mackenzie, Sir Morell, 16, 54.
Madrid Convention, 263.
Magna Charta, Germany's, 1.
Mahan, Captain, 164.
Marble Palace, 118.
"March Days," 128 seq.
Mensur, 29 seq.
Menzel, painter, 179; death, 255.
Moabit riots, 329.
Mommsen, Emperor and, 251.
Monroe doctrine, 240.
Morocco, 255 seq.
Navy, German, First Navy Law, 145; Prince William and, 163; early history of, 166; auctioned, 168; early proposals, 169 seq.; legislative stages, 171; Grey's proposal, 317.
New Palace, Potsdam, 116.
Nobiling, attempt, 42, 90. "November Storm," 289 seq.
Open door, The, 257.
"Our future lies on the water," 203.
Oxford university, 284.
Palestine, 145; journey to, 176.
Parliament, introduction; parliamentary rule, 58; chancellor and, 291; Emperor and, 294; See Reichstag.
"Personal regiment," 289, 296, 371.
Peters, Carl, 149.
"Place in the sun," 204.
Polypus, removed, 250.
Prussia, at Emperor's birth, 12; Diet, 293; electoral reform in, 316.
Raid, Jameson, 159.
Rationalism, 344, 369.
Realpolitik, see Weltpolitik; in sport, 357.
Rechtstaat, 369 seq.
Reichstag, introduction, 280, 292 333, 377.
Reinsurance treaty, 133.
Religion, Emperor on, 246.
Rhodes, Cecil, 284.
Richard, Prof., 370.
"Roland von Berlin," 253.
Roosevelt, Alice, 241; president, 253; visits Berlin, 325 seq.; professorships, 272.
Russia and Germany, relations, 80.
Russo-Japanese war, 252.
Sans Souci, 119, 179.
Septennat, 53, 152.
Seymour, Admiral, 195.
Shimonoseki, treaty of, 193.
"Shining armour," 328.
Social Democracy, introduction; Emperor and, 87; history of, 89; programme, 91; causes of, 94. Socialist laws, 103, 279 seq.
Socialism, 92; See Social Democracy.
Sport, in Germany, 357.
"Star of commerce," phrase, 165.
State, German interpretation of, 292.
Stein, Dr. Adolf, 158.
Stoessel, General, 195, 253.
Stone, Melville, 242.
Suffragettes, Emperor and, 332.
Sultan, promise to, 145, 177.
Swinemunde despatch, 244.
Taku Forts, 195.
Tangier, 256, 259; Emperor's speech at, 260, 268.
Theatre, Emperor on, 230; Germans and the, 254.
"Times," the, 297, 299, 301, 324.
Tirpitz, von, Admiral, 338.
Tower, ambassador, 318.
Trade Unionism, 92 seq.
Transvaal, 156 seq.; 303.
Tree, Sir Beerbohm, 287.
Treitschke, von, on Divine Right, 59; on Bismarck, 125.
Trench, Captain, 338.
Triple Alliance, Emperor on, 77; history of, 78; provisions, 79; renewals, 38, 339.
"Urias Letter," 142.
Universities, England and Germany compared, 98.
"Unser Fritz," 14.
Venezuela, 158, 239.
Victoria Louise, Princess, 333.
Victoria, Queen, 167; death, 201.
"Von Gottes Gnaden," 56 seq.;. doctrine to-day, 68.
Waldersee, Countess, 45; Count, 46, 196.
Weltpolitik, 51, 144; Buelow on, 147; open door and, 201; foreign policy and, 201, 192, 201, 203.
William I, career, 42; character, 43; death, 54; parliament and, 294.
Williams, George Valentine, 232.
Wyberg, Frank, 383.
Zeppelin, Count, 358.