views of life and demanding complete personal freedom, the German Rechtstaat would be galling, not to say intolerable.  The Englishman, however, has his Rechtstaat too, but the limits it places on his liberty are not nearly so restrictive in regard to public meeting, public talking, public writing, in short, public action of all sorts, as in Germany.  Besides, the spirit of laws in England, as naturally follows from the Englishman’s political history, is a much more liberal one than the German spirit, which is still to some extent under the influence of the age of absolutism.

The German conception of the Rechtstaat entails, as one of its consequences, a sharp contrast between the rights and privileges of the Crown and the rights and privileges of the people; and therefore, while the Emperor is never without apprehension that the people may try to increase their rights and privileges at the expense of those of the Crown, the people are not without apprehension that the Crown may try to increase its rights and privileges at the expense of the political liberties of the people.  To this apprehension on the part of the people is to be attributed their widespread dissatisfaction with the Emperor’s so-called “personal regiment,” which, until recently, was the chief hindrance to his popularity.  In truth the Emperor is in a difficult position.  To be popular with the people he must be popular with the Parliament, but if he were to seek popularity with the Parliament he would lose popularity and prestige with the aristocracy and large landowners, who have still a good deal of the old-time contempt for the mere “folk,” the burgher, and he would lose it with the military officer class, which is aristocratic in spirit, and is, as the Emperor is constantly assuring it, the sole support of throne and Empire.  In addition to this it has to be remembered that a large majority of South Germany is Catholic, and, generally speaking, no great lover of Prussia, its people, and their airs of stiff superiority.

The personal relations of the Emperor to his people, and in especial to the vast burghertum, are precisely those to be expected from his traditional and constitutional relations.  He is not popular, but he is widely and sincerely respected.  His preference for the army, intelligible though it is, and the cleavage that separates Government and people, explain to some extent the want of popularity, using that word in its “popular” sense; while the consciousness of all the nation owes to his “goodwill,” his initiative and energy, his conscientiousness in all directions, is quite sufficient to account for the respect.  It is, in truth, in part at least, the respect which excludes the popularity.  No one is ever likely to be popular, anywhere, who is constantly endeavouring to teach people how to live and what to think, and at the same time seems to have no social weaknesses to reconcile him with those—­no small number—­who are fond of cakes and