Emperor Francis-Joseph will be prepared, in, a future existence, to take his place among the very humblest of his subjects, realizing that in the eyes of the Divinity all human creatures are equal, whereas Emperor William, on the other hand, in his heart of hearts, is certainly convinced that there will be a special place reserved for him above—a place in keeping with his rank here on earth. True, he has never actually said this in so many words, but he has assuredly indicated this belief both by his utterances and his actions. He makes no attempt to conceal his conviction that personages of royal birth, and, in particular, reigning sovereigns, are fashioned by the Almighty with clay of a quality vastly superior to that employed for the composition of ordinary human creatures.
Notwithstanding all the Spartan rigor and severity to which he was subjected in his youth, for the purpose of dispelling exaggerated pride of birth and station, he feels assured that the rights and privileges which he enjoys above his fellow-men are of Divine origin. Although a constitutional sovereign, he is never tired of declaring that he is responsible for the performance of his duties as ruler of Germany to the Almighty alone, and that God alone is able to appreciate and to pass judgment upon his actions.
That Emperor William considers himself to be far nearer to the throne of God, and in an infinitely closer degree of communion with the Almighty than any ordinary being, is apparent from many of his public utterances. In fact, the amazing intimacy which he professes with his Maker, and the strange manner in which he implies that he and the Creator have interests in common, and joint understandings that are beyond the comprehension of ordinary mankind, would savor of downright blasphemy, were it not for the undeniable sincerity of his Teutonic majesty, who really regards himself as a Divine instrument. Indeed, there is no doubt that it is this belief which he honestly entertains that has served to keep his private life, since he ascended the throne, so thoroughly blameless. For there is no doubt that William does his utmost to live up to the teachings of his faith, to order every phase of his existence in conformity with the precepts of Christianity, and to avoid everything that could tend to impair his status as a vice-regent of Providence in the eyes of the devout.
Few are the incidents and events of his reign to which he does not impart a religious flavor. Thus it was only last summer, on the completion of a new fort at Metz, that he insisted on its inauguration taking place with much religious pomp and ceremony, and he himself christened the fortress in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, thus calling down the blessing of the Trinity on a stronghold, the guns of which are pointed against France, and the success of which can only consist in the destruction of innumerable French foes!
It is he, too, who has originated the practice of christening with religious ceremonies the great guns furnished by Krupp for use afloat and ashore against Germany's enemies; and on the blades of the swords which he has presented to his elder sons, and to his favorite generals and officers, there is invariably inscribed on the one side, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost," and on the other, averse from the Bible, surmounted by the imperial cypher.
William has even gone to the length of drawing up an extraordinary argument in defence of duelling based upon quotations taken from the Bible. The emperor takes as the text of his argument that verse of the writings of St. Paul, in which the Apostle declares that he would rather die than that anyone should rob him of his good name. William infers from this that the most eloquent and forcible of all the fathers of the Church was prepared to fight to the death for the honor of his name.
"Nowhere in the Bible," adds his majesty, "is there any prohibition
of duelling, not even in the New Testament, which, unlike the Old
Testament, is not a book of law. Indeed, every attempt to use the New
Testament as the basis for a new code of law has resulted in failure."
With regard to the use made by the opponents of duelling of that law in the Old Testament which proclaims, "Thou shalt not kill," the emperor draws attention to another portion of the Old Testament, wherein is mentioned that the sword shall not be carried in vain. Then invoking St. Paul's epistle to the Galatians, in which the Apostle exclaims: "Oh! ye foolish Galatians. This only would I learn of you. Received ye the spirit by the works of the law, or by the hearing of the faith? Are ye so foolish, having begun in the spirit, that ye wish to perfect yourselves in the flesh?"
The emperor declares that to twist the Word of God into a prohibition of duelling is nothing else than to perfect one's self by the flesh—that is to say to attribute an altogether material and common-place interpretation to what is meant spiritually. He adds that this is just as reprehensible in the eyes of the Almighty as the attempts by the Pharisees to adapt the Mosaic law to their own convenience, attempts which were so bitterly denounced by Christ.
Finally, the emperor generally concludes this extraordinary exposition of his views by the following exordium: