Again some years passed. The accounts of the old Emperor’s health showed that his end was drawing near, but at the same time began the disquieting rumors about the Crown Prince’s health. The Prince sent for me shortly after his arrival in London, where he had come for the Queen’s Jubilee, 1887. He looked as grand as ever, and in his eyes there was the same light and life and love, but his voice had become almost a whisper. Nevertheless, he spoke hopefully, almost confidently, and went through all the festivities like a hero. Who will ever forget him on horseback in the white uniform of the Prussian Cuirassiers, in the midst of the sons and sons-in-law of the Queen? I saw him once more at Windsor, the day before he left for Germany. In the evening, after dinner, he walked up to me and spoke to me for a long time. His voice had regained its timbre, and I felt convinced like himself that the downward course of his malady was over, and that the uphill work was now to begin. After he had spoken to me for nearly half an hour, one of his aides-de-camp came up to him, and said: “Not another word, your Royal Highness.” He shook my hand: I looked up to him full of hope; it was for the last time. He himself, I believe, retained his hopefulness to the very end. The Greeks said: “Those whom the gods love die young.” When the Prince Consort died, and when the Emperor Frederick died, one felt inclined to say: “Those whom all men love die young.” Five reigns have thus passed before my eyes, those of Frederick William III., 17971840; Frederick William IV., 1840–1861; Wilhelm I., 1861–1888; Frederick III., 1888; Wilhelm II., 1888; and if there is one lesson which their history teaches us, and which everybody should take to heart, it is that the wonderful work which they have achieved is due to the hard work, the determined purpose, and the persevering industry of these sovereigns. I did not know much of the personal work of Frederick William III., but, beginning with Frederick William IV. to the present Emperor, I have had occasional glimpses of their private life, enough to show that none of these men looked upon his place in life as a sinecure. In no case was their throne an easy chair. Their bed was in very truth a bed of iron, not a bed of roses. These sovereigns have been at work day and night; they have shared not only in the triumphs, but in the privations and sufferings of their army. I shall never forget, when I was at Ems in 1871, passing the house where the old Emperor resided; and there in the first storey, behind a green curtain, one could clearly see him standing at his desk, with a lamp by his side, reading and signing despatches, while everybody else enjoyed the cool air of the evening, nay, long after most people had gone to bed. The Emperor Frederick, before he was Emperor, was unhappy about one thing only, that he had not work enough to do, and if there is a sovereign indefatigable in the service of his