We have seen that the Emperor’s position as King and Emperor renders inevitable his adoption, either of natural bent, which is extremely probable, or from a policy in harmony with the wishes of his people, of a view of the monarch’s office that to perhaps most Englishmen living under parliamentary rule must seem antiquated, not to say absurd.  This attitude apart, the Emperor possesses, as it is hoped has been sufficiently shown, as modern and progressive a spirit as any of his contemporaries.  His instant recognition of all useful modern appliances, particularly, of course, those of possible service in war, is a prominent feature of his mentality.  He went, doubtless, too far in heralding Count Zeppelin, in 1909, as “the greatest man of the century,” but the very words he chose to use marked his appreciation of the new aeronautical science Count Zeppelin was introducing.  Similarly, the moment the automobile had entered on the stage of reliability it won a place in the imperial favour, and is now his most constant means of locomotion.  He has never, it is true, emulated the enterprise of his son, the Crown Prince, whom Mr. Orville Wright had as a companion for a quarter of an hour in the air at Potsdam three years ago, but his interest in the aeroplane is none the less keen because he is too conscious of his responsibilities to subject his life to unnecessary risk.

Before closing our sketch of the Emperor as a man by quoting appreciations written by two contemporary writers, one German and the other English, it may be added that there is a statesman still—­it is pleasant to think—­alive who could, an he only would, draw the Emperor’s character perfectly, both as man and monarch.  Indeed, as has been seen, he has more than once sketched parts of it in Parliament, but only parts—­the whole character of the Emperor, on all its sides and in all its ramifications, has yet to be revealed.  Here need only be quoted what Chancellor Buelow—­and also, by the way, Princess Buelow—­publicly said about the Emperor as man.  The Prince’s most noteworthy statement was made in the Reichstag in 1903, when, in answer to Leader-of-the-Opposition Bebel, the Prince said, “One thing at least, the Emperor is no Philistine,” and proceeded to explain, rather negatively and disappointingly, that the Emperor possesses what the Greeks call megalopsychia—­a great soul.  One knows but too well the English Philistine, that stolid, solid, self-sufficient bulwark of the British Constitution.  The German Philistine is his twin brother, the narrow-minded, conservative burgher.  Other epithets the Prince applied to the imperial character were “simple,” “natural,” “hearty,” “magnanimous,” “clear-headed,” and “straightforward”; while Princess Buelow, during a conversation her husband was having with the French journalist, M. Jules Huret, in 1907, interjected the remark that he was “a person of good birth, fils de bonne maison, the descendant of distinguished ancestors, and a modern man of great intelligence.”