Henry
possesses precisely those qualities which would have resulted in
feelings of good-will and friendship with Admiral Dewey. He is modest,
honest, broad-minded, speaks English perfectly, and is entirely free
from any affectation or pose. He is a man, indeed, who has so many
qualities in common with Dewey that it is impossible that they should
not have understood each other, and under the circumstances it is most
unfortunate that the prince happened to be in the northernmost portion
of the China seas at the very time that the battle of Manila was
fought. It may be remembered that matters went on very much more
smoothly between the Germans and the Americans at Manila after the
withdrawal of Admiral Diederichs.

There was another very important reason for sending Prince Henry to
Manila; he is, of all the members of his house, the one most strongly
imbued with liberal and progressive ideas in political affairs. In
fact, he seems to have inherited all those political views of his
father, Emperor Frederick, which were a source of so much concern
and apprehension to the late Prince Bismarck. To tell the truth, the
political views and aspirations of Henry are diametrically opposed to
those of his elder brother, a circumstance which does not, however, in
any way impair the affection existing between the two.

At the time when he sent off Prince Henry to China, the kaiser was far
from well, and was suffering more than usually from the painful
malady of the ear already referred to, and which is identical with
the disease which first of all wrecked the mind and then killed his
grand-uncle, King Frederick William IV. Added to this, he is firmly
imbued with the idea that he is destined to meet with a sudden death
at the hands of an assassin, a conviction which never leaves him,
and which is perhaps responsible for that species of stern and even
aggressive air with which he, gazes at the cheering crowds when he
rides home at the head of his troops through the streets of Berlin
or of Potsdam after a day spent in military manoeuvres on the great
plains of Tempelhof.

If any of my readers feel disposed to condemn him for this
apprehension,--it would be unjust to style it fear,--let them try to
imagine how they themselves would feel if they knew that there were
scores of desperate men and women who had sworn to take their lives by
means of bullets or explosive bombs, fired or hurled from the centre
of some dense crowd, which would