"is the King; therefore to God alone is he responsible. He must choose his way and conduct himself solely from this standpoint. This fearfully heavy responsibility which the King bears for his folk gives him a claim on the faithful co-operation of his subjects. Accordingly, every man among the people must be thoroughly persuaded that he is, along with the King, responsible for the general welfare."

It may be noted in passing that Cromwell and the Emperor are alike in being the founders of the great war navies of their respective countries.

On the date mentioned (New Year's Day), in the Berlin arsenal when consecrating some flags, he addressed the garrison on the turn of the year:

"The first day of the new century finds our army, that is our folk in arms, gathered round its standards, kneeling before the Lord of Hosts—and certainly if anyone has reason to bend the knee before God, it is our army."

"A glance at our standards," the Emperor continued,

"is sufficient explanation, for they incorporate our history. What was the state of our army at the beginning of the century? The glorious army of Frederick the Great had gone to sleep on its laurels, ossified in pipeclay details, led by old, incapable generals, its officers shy of work, sunk in luxury, good living, and foolish self-satisfaction. In a word, the army was no longer not only not equal to its task, but had forgotten it. Heavy was the punishment of Heaven, which overtook it and our folk. They were flung into the dust, Frederick's glory faded, the standards were cast down. In seven years of painful servitude God taught our folk to bethink itself of itself, and under the pressure of the feet of an arrogant usurper (Napoleon) was born the thought that it is the highest honour to devote in arms one's life and property to the Fatherland—the thought, in short, of universal conscription."

The word for conscription, it may be here remarked, is in German Wehrpflicht, the duty of defence. To most people in England it means simply "compulsory military service." It is important to note the difference, as it explains the German national idea, and the Emperor's idea, that all military and naval forces are primarily for defence, not offence. This is, indeed, equally true of the British, or perhaps any other, army and navy; but how many Englishmen, when they think of Germany, can get the idea into the foreground of their thoughts or accustom themselves to it?

However, we have not yet done with the Emperor's baffling character. There was a third element that now developed in it—the modern, the twentieth-century, the American, the Rockefeller element. It is intimately connected with his Weltpolitik, as his Weltpolitik is with his foreign policy in general—indeed one might say his Weltpolitik is his foreign policy—a policy of economic expansion, with a desperate apprehension of losing any of the Empire's property, and a determination to have a voice in the matter when there is any loose property anywhere in the world to be disposed of. To the Hebraic element and the warrior element (an entirely un-Christlike combination, as the Emperor must be aware) there now began to be added the mercantile, the modern, the American element—the interest in all the concerns of national material prosperity, in the national accumulation of wealth, the interest in inventions, in commercial science, in labour-saving machinery, the effort to win American favour, to facilitate intercourse and establish close and profitable relations with that wealthy land and people.

We know that the Emperor has English blood in him, greatly admires England, and is immensely proud of being a British admiral. We have seen him exhibiting traits of character that remind one of Lohengrin or Tancred. He has played many parts in the spirit of a Hebrew prophet and patriarch, of a Frederick the Great, a Cromwell, a Nelson, a Theodore Roosevelt. Preacher, teacher, soldier, sailor, he has been all four, now at one moment, now at another. We shall find him anon as art and dramatic critic, to end—so far as we are concerned with him—as farmer. Is it any wonder if such a man, mediæval in his nature and modern in his character, defies clear and definite portrayal by his contemporaries?

Taking the year 1900 as the first year of the new century, not as some calculators, and the Emperor among them, take it, as the last year of the old, the twentieth century may be said to have opened with a dramatic historical episode in which the Emperor and his Empire took very prominent parts—the Boxer movement.