ematized, to-morrow. Bismarck's memory is in no need of such haste, and we need be in no hurry to render insincere, trumpery homage to it. He will live on with his work; thus there is no necessity to be in a hurry to sum up its record.

Now, above all other times, whilst still under the overpowering impression of the passing of this colossal figure, looming, lingering far beyond human proportions in the imagination of a humble friend, it were indeed impossible to do more than present a few stray memories of one I was privileged to know somewhat intimately in life. Thus my words can possess no better value than that of a muffled note of sympathy-of homage to the memory of a great and good man. To attempt to do more were to endeavor to describe the salient points of some huge Alpine landscape whilst yet standing at sunset in close proximity, in the black shadow of its frowning bowlders.

The dominant impression which governs thought and feeling for the moment must be that with Bismarck the last and the greatest of the extraordinary men who created the German Empire of to-day has sunk into the grave. With Bismarck, whose life has drawn such deep furrows across our time, the great period impressed for all futurity with the hall-mark of his master-mind has come to an end.

Most of us can remember the grunt of relief which weak-kneed mortality indulged in, from one end of Europe to the other, when this colossus of sturdy will power was suddenly removed from off the fearsome public chest in the month of March, 1890. To the English-speaking people the episode is rendered unforgettable by the memorable cartoon of Punch entitled "Dropping the Pilot." That event furnishes still a sad comment on the innate meanness of human nature, as such. We have only to remember how, even in his own northern homenot in South Germany. nearly every organ of the press threw Bismarck over with damning faint praise, and bent in Byzantine servility to greet the rising

sun.

The Hamburger Nachrichten furnished a glorious exception here, and ever since has passed current as Bismarck's body-organ. In one sense this designa

tion was a perfectly true one, namely, that the Hamburger Nachrichten remained Bismarck's body-organ in the same way in which a trusty knight forms a body-guard to the leader he is pledged to defend at the risk of his life and property.

To the outward world, however-particularly to that section thereof which, with some excuse, has long ceased in its heart of hearts to believe in the existence of such impedimenta as honor, uprightness, and unselfish devotion to an ideal -the championship of the Hamburger Nachrichten meant that the Hamburger Nachrichten was paid by Bismarck for its services, or, at the very least, that the paper shrewdly calculated it would mean good business to its exchequer to pose as the solitary oracle of the dethroned Titan. Fortunately for the honor of German journalism, neither one nor the other version is correct. The Hamburger Nachrichten, although a wealthy paper, risked a great deal at the time in taking up Bismarck's cause. But it fearlessly took the risk, at the bidding, not of its proprietors, but of its leading spirit, Dr. Emil Hartmeyer, its editor, a very different sort of independent editor to the man people are accustomed to fancy as a German editor, when they foully libel the German press and sneer at its want of independence. With Dr. Hartmeyer his championship was a matter of enthusiastic conviction.

On one occasion, even, things were so threatening it was during the Caprivi period, when, to the weak-stomached, it looked as if state prosecution were in store for the hermit of Friedrichsruhthat the proprietors and those in charge of the paper grew nervous, and telegraphed to Dr. Hartmeyer, who was at Ems at the time, whether it might not be advisable to haul down the Bismarck standard. "Nie und nimmermehr, was sturdy Hartmeyer's telegraphic reply. Furchtlos und Treut is the motto of Würtemberg. It shall be ours too. stick to Bismarck."

We

This state of affairs-this sturdy, honorable championship of a conviction beyond the reach of bribery, purchase, or intimidation -was well known to the Bismarck family, and was always, down to the last, appreciated by them as only appreciation can exist among those who, *No and nevermore. Fearless and faithful.

possessing honor themselves, rejoice to welcome its existence in the breast of their fellow - men. The idea that the Hamburger Nachrichten, much less a man of the stamp of Dr. Hartmeyer, calculated the cost of the line the paper took, was one that would always have been scouted as an unworthy aspersion at Friedrichsruh. It was not in the Prince's nature, neither is it in the composition of Herbert Bismarck, to harbor mean suspicions where it is pleasurable to rejoice over fearless action. Also, I can state from personal knowledge, which I gained on the spot at the time, that it never entered Prince Bismarck's mind to suppose that it could "pay" to champion one who in his first paroxysm of disappointment and rage he firmly believed to have been deserted, if not betrayed, by all. In fact, nobody was so surprised at the cyclonic turn of the tide in 1892 as the Bismarck family themselves, which only proves their innate modesty, their lack of what has been considered a pardonable degree of self-estimation.

Another idea which obtained almost universal currency was that Prince Bismarck, or at least Count Herbert, inspired articles, if they did not actually write them from day to day for the columus of their faithful Hamburg organ. As a matter of fact, it was only at rare intervals that direct communication took place between Friedrichsruh and the Hamburger Nachrichten. It is true that on all festive occasions a representative of the paper was admitted in preference and before the representative of any other paper-sometimes, in fact, the Hamburger Nachrichten alone was admitted to the house. But I have been at Friedrichsruh repeatedly for several days in succession without seeing any representative of the press. Also, on the occasion of the eightieth birthday of Prince Bismarck, when the Rectors of all the German universities gathered together and were received privately in the drawing-room in the forenoon, I did not even see a representative of the Hamburger Nachrichten. But all this is not of great importance, for Bismarck's secretary was always there to send any special communication privately in the Prince's name to the paper; and besides, Dr. Hartmeyer was always so thoroughly in touch with Bismarck's whole political creed that a hint from time to time, or a few minutes'

conversation at rare intervals, was all that was needed in order to enable his paper to hurl the Bismarck Philippika most effectively day by day at the heads of the Prince's antagonists.

Bismarck's keen interest in everything appertaining to nature is well known. Particularly during the latter years of his life, this sympathy seemed to grow in proportion as leisure afforded him increased opportunities for looking after his estates and observing the thousand and one phenomena associated with life in the country. He was particularly fond of strolling in the grounds of Friedrichsruh before lunch-time or in the afternoon before dinner. If a visitor happened to be staying in the house whose companionship was congenial to him, Bismarck would send his man-servant Pinnow up to his room to inquire whether he would like to accompany his Highness for a walk. Of such an occasion a friend relates the following anecdote, which has not hitherto been published:

"You know how fond he was of watching the deer, the water-fowl, the flight of birds. It was a habit of his at certain hours of the day-by preference towards sunset-to stroll into the grounds and sit upon the rough wooden bench in the corner of the field in which, on the occasion of his eightieth birthday, the Emperor had gathered together quite a military force to do honor to him. Opposite this bench you may have noticed a number of old dead trees. They are a favorite resort of starlings, and Bismarck used to sit there by the hour and watch them. When he arrived they began to twitter, for they knew him, and he knew them too. He would point out to me which family inhabited such and such a tree. He even seemed to be able to distinguish each individual starling belonging to a group. It was in the afternoon of the 31st of March, 1894. He was visibly pleased with the chorus of welcome which greeted his arrival on the part of the birds. How happy they are!' he said. "They know nothing of the troubles of this world. They are well fed, and they love those who are kind to them, and in their turn are grateful for kindness.' Suddenly the Prince, who had been sitting in the middle of the rough wooden seat, rose up and said to me, 'Won't you sit down?' I replied: "Thank you. I am afraid the

seat will not support the weight of two people.' Bismarck then apologized for sitting down alone, saying that he could not walk any more the long distances he used to walk only a few years previously. Then pointing to the starlings, who were twittering in the sinking sun- it was about two hours before the torch light procession of 8000 Hamburgers took place in honor of his birthday on the morrowhe said to me, 'They go to bed and rise up without these pains which rack me so sorely.' With this he put his handkerchief to his right cheek. I asked if nothing could be done to alleviate the pain, whereupon he replied: "Thirty years of responsibility, such as I have had on my shoulders, do not leave a man's body untried. I have had many and many a sleepless night. How often was I obliged to decide within a moment's notice, as it were, and without having anybody to assist me, on matters upon which war or peace in Europe depended! So that I have had no time to think over my own aches and pains until they became past curing. Now it is too late.' Then he looked up at the dead trees, and seeing that they were deserted by the starlings, he said: 'Sie sind weggeflogen. koennen wir auch gehen.'"*

Nun

Now that I have quoted my friend, I will continue his interesting reminiscences as he confided them to me:

"The next day being Bismarck's birthday, there was a big family dinner party at Friedrichsruh. Covers were laid in two separate rooms, in the further one of which I had taken my seat at table. After dinner the Prince, who was in excellent spirits, called me in, and, in his kind, inimitable way, addressed me.

"We have not seen each other for a long time. I think we might drink a pint of champagne together.' He indicated an excellent French brand.

"Why only a pint, your Highness?' I replied.

on one occasion,' continued the Prince, I was dining with his Gracious Majesty.* I had some champagne in my glass, the taste of which made me suspicious. When the butler again passed round the table I tried to get a look at the label on the bottle, but this was impossible, for a napkin was wrapped round it. I then turned to the Emperor to inquire the name of the particular brand, when his Majesty blurted out that it was indeed German champagne Deutscher Schaumwein. "Yes," the Emperor said; "I drink it from motives of economy, as I have a large family, and I have strongly recommended it to my officers for the same reason. Then I also drink it from patriotic motives." Thereupon I said to the Emperor, "With me, your Majesty, patriotism stops short at the region of my stomach," (meaning, of course, that patriotism has its seat in the heart)."

On another occasion-it was in 1893Eugen Wolf, the well-known traveller and writer, came on a visit to the Prince, after having passed through Rome, and having had an audience with the Pope. "The Pope asked me where I was going to on leaving Rome. I told him that I was going back home to Germany, and that my first object would be to pay my respects to Prince Bismarck, who had hitherto always received me. The Pope thereupon said: 'Il Principe di Bismarck! Do not forget to greet him from me.' So, when I arrived at Friedrichsruh, I told the Prince that I had greetings from Rome to deliver to him. Oh! indeed!' said Bismarck. 'I suppose you have paid a visit to the Pope. How fares the health of the Holy Father? I must tell you that I always got on very well indeed with him. He even gave me his highest decoration, mounted in brilliants. It was only that confounded [verflixte] little Excellency [Windthorst] whom I could not manage to get along with.""

No man could have had less taste for dogmatical discussions than Bismarck, and yet his was essentially a religious nature. A deep sense of reverence and true humility in face of the enigmas of nature was among the mainsprings of his religious feeling. On one occasion he expressed himself to Herr von Poschinger with regard to the doctrine of metempsy

*This must have been between 1888 and 1890, as the present Emperor is meant.-S. W.

chosis-a doctrine in which Count Moltke was also deeply interested. With Bismarck it may have been only a fleeting, fanciful thought—as Herr von Poschinger assures me it was-but what Bismarck said on the subject was eminently characteristic of the man. "If I had to choose the form in which I should prefer to live again," he said, "I am not so sure that I should not like to be an ant. You see," he said, "that little creature lives in a state of perfect political organization; every one of them is obliged to worklead a useful life-every one is industrious. There is complete subordination, discipline, and order among the ants. They are happy, for they work."

Those who are apt to judge Bismarck's character by the impression conveyed in reading accounts of his dealings with his opponents would naturally suppose him to have been a man of very strong and passionate likes and dislikes. If so, it is at least beyond doubt that in private life never a word passed his lips of a nature to lend countenance to such an assumption. Whether it was that he stood above the emotions of smaller men I am unable to tell, but I can vouch for the fact that I never heard him express a single opinion which I could construe as conveying an intense feeling or dislike for either man, beast, or doctrine. I mention this because in some parts it has become almost natural to expect an occasional outburst of indignation, of noble scorn, on the part of those who, from time to time, have taken upon themselves the task of pointing to a higher life by denouncing the mean motives of their opponents in the every-day struggle of pushful ambition. Bismarck had nothing of that in his composition. Neither did he bother himself much about the spiritual welfare of other people. He seemed to be perfectly content to let them take their chance with him in the realm of Frederick the Great, where everybody is supposed to obtain salvation in his own way. A certain dispassionate-may I say philosophic?calm was also noticeable in him whenever deceased persons were mentioned in his presence, even when they were such for whom he had entertained a feeling of attachment when alive. The conventional expressions of sympathy for those who had gone before, sorrow or pity for the dead-such sentiments rarely crossed his lips. Although im

bued with true piety, he would speak of the dead of his friend Motley, for instance, to whom he was sincerely attached-by recalling some quaint incident of their joint youth, but more in a jocular, whole-hearted, sympathetic manner, entirely free from the sad thought that the old friend had now for years past been dead. Death in itself seemed, after all, only a natural incident to him, in which nearly all his friends had preceded him. Thus to waste any conventional words about so natural a matter was repugnant to him. There were, indeed, exceptions to this attitude, and these were when anything concerning the death of the Emperor William, or latterly of his wife, was mentioned. These were indeed tender memories to him. On the other hand, it must be borne in mind that Bismarck's life was singularly free from the misfortune common to so many of us

that of losing prematurely those near and dear to us. Bismarck never lost a child, and his favorite sister, Baroness von Arnim, survives him.

One day at lunch, some years ago, Prince Bismarck said to me: I have just been reading one of my old speeches. It was delivered so many years ago that the whole matter came upon me with a certain degree of novelty. In fact, I was quite surprised to find that I had ever spoken thus. I can't make out now where I got all those ideas from, and I am perfectly sure I should not be equal to such an effort now." His words bore the impress of evident sincerity-a childlike surprise at his own former intellectual powers, which, in his innate modesty, he really fancied had left him in his old age, whereas down to his eightieth birthday, and even later, he was still capable of delivering speeches, every word of which went home with pristine force to the hearts of thousands of hearers.

Much has been written about Bismarck as a public speaker-for his published speeches fill twelve bulky volumes-and a deal of argument has been spent to prove that he was indeed no orator. In a certain sense this is and must be true. For if there was one thing he loathed, it was the art of the rhetorician-the born mobhypnotizer. He was no actor; he could be none, since he disliked the very rudiments of the art-self-conscious pose. But this does not mean that Bismarck could not speak effectively. This does not mean

that he has not spoken with more lasting effect to a whole nation than have a full generation of gifted orators, intoxicated with their own phraseology, whose efforts fade from human memory ere scarce the echo of their voice has died away. Bismarck was a child of Goethe herein-that he believed with Goethe:

Denn eben wo Begriffe fehlen

Da stellt ein Wort zur rechten Zeit sich ein.*

This is to say, volubility of speech, too fluent readiness with empty phrases, was repugnant to him; it excited his suspicion. Thus he never prepared himself for a speech. When in Parliament he got his facts together beforehand on important occasions. That was all. Their enunciation he left to chance. On the various occasions I have heard him address large audiences at Friedrichsruheven several times in one day-he never, so far as I could tell or judge, prepared himself in the least for the ordeal, or, I would venture to assert, even thought what he was going to say, five minutes beforehand. What he had to say seemed to come to him in the course of each sentence, which he always brought out slowly, even jerkily, but with a something "behind it which made the listener feel confident "this man is not going to lose the thread of what he is about to say, for it is of adamant." To hear him speak in public was to receive the impression that he was continuously engaged in a grim wrestle with his inner self to force out what a rugged nature refused to yield up without a struggle, the clear crystals of his pellucid mind. Also, the effect on his audience in such cases was electrical. They seemed to partake breathlessly in the physical struggle they were witnessing. I have seen stout men weep at his words. To read his speeches one would never think that their delivery had been a labor, although one cheerfully undertaken —an ordeal, though he got through free from any particle of nervousness, at least so far as outward evidence could enable one to judge. But such it always was.

In comparison with the prodigious effect Bismarck's voice produced on his hearers it was one of limited power, slightly high in pitch, but by no means sharp in tone. There was always something distinguish

For there just where ideas are lacking
A word comes handy in the nick of time.

ed and agreeable in its timbre. Even when speaking before thousands it still retained the subdued character of a gentleman's voice holding casual converse at his own dinner table, bare of every trick of affectation or of the knowledge of the effect it might produce. Thus everything he said went straight to the hearer's heart, as only a voice can do which is entirely free from the suspicion of comedy or insincerity.

According to the testimony of everybody with whom I have spoken who had ever known Bismarck personally, it would be impossible to imagine a man in private life more spontaneously cordial, one to all appearance more completely unconscious of his transcendent intellectual powers, let alone of his dazzling worldly position. But here the testimony of John Lothrop Motley, the historian, may well take precedence of all others. It takes precedence not only on account of its being the opinion of so eminent an authority, but also because Motley met Bismarck as a fellow-student, then again in the early years of his political career, when he was Prussian member of the Diet in Frankfort on the Main, and, lastly, after the 1870 war, when he was at the very height of his greatness and popularity. Thus Motley's opportunities of observing him may be said to embrace the most striking periods of Bismarck's life. Writing to his wife from Frankfort, on the 27th of July, 1855, Motley says:

"I cannot express to you how cordially he received me.* If I had been his brother, instead of an old friend, he could not have shown more warmth and affectionate delight in seeing me. I find I like him even better than I thought I did; and you know how high an opinion I always expressed of his talents and disposition. He is a man of very noble character, and of very great powers of mind.”

And let us bear in mind that this judgment was given a few years before Bismarck became the best-hated man throughout Germany.

Again, in the year 1872, Motley writes from Varzin: "The intense affection which he has for his wife and children is delightful to contemplate, and, as you may imagine, he is absolutely worshipped by them. The week passed here is some

*It was the first time they had met since leaving the universities of Göttingen and Berlin.