e way for future conquerors, and on along
Unter den Linden, with its broad pavements gleaming in a
characteristic misty winter night, through the Brandenburg Gate of his
Brandenburg dynasty, or to the statue of the blood-and-iron
Bismarck, with his strong jaw and pugnacious nose--the statesman
militant in uniform with a helmet over his bushy brow--who had made
the German Empire, that young empire which had not yet known
defeat because of the system which makes ready and chooses the
hour for its blow.

Not far away one had glimpses of the white statues of My Ancestors
of the Sieges Allee, or avenue of victory--the present Kaiser's own
idea--with the great men of the time on their right and left hands.
People whose sense of taste, not to say of humour, may limit their
statecraft had smiled at this monotonous and grandiose row of the
dead bones of distinguished and mediocre royalty immortalized in
marble to the exact number of thirty-two. But they were My Ancestors,
O Germans, who made you what you are! Right dress and keep that
line of royalty in mind! It is your royal line, older than the trees in the
garden, firm as the rocks, Germany itself. The last is not the least in
might nor the least advertised in the age of publicity. He is to make
the next step in advance for Germany and bring more tribute home, if
all Germans will be loyal to him.

One paused to look at the photograph of the Kaiser in a shop
window; a big photograph of that man whose photograph is
everywhere in Germany. It is a stern face, this face, as the leader
wishes his people to see him, with its erectile moustache, the lips firm
set, the eyes challenging and the chin held so as to make it symbolic
of strength: a face that strives to say in that pose: "Onward! I lead!"
Germans have seen it every day for a quarter of a century. They
have lived with it and the character of it has grown into their natures.

In the same window was a smaller photograph of the Crown Prince,
with his cap rakishly on the side of his head, as if to give himself a
distinctive characteristic in the German eye; but his is the face of a
man who is not mature for his years, and a trifle dissipated. For a
while after the war began he, as leader of the war party, knew the joy
of being more popular than the Kaiser. But the tide turned soon in
favour of a father who appeared to be drawn reluctantly into the
ordeal of death and wounds for his people in "defence of the
Fatherland" and a