For all his love of skylarking, and the freedom of his manners, his name has never been associated with any questionable story, save by the gutter element of the Parisian press, which endeavored to drag him into the Dreyfus case by declaring that Germany's strange attitude in the affair was due to the alleged knowledge the French War Department of terrible immorality proved to have been committed by Prince Henry during frequent secret visits to Paris. Of course there is not a word of truth in these contemptible stories, and the prince's reputation as a perfect husband and a healthy-minded gentleman, stands high, even in Berlin, where people are overfond of scandalous gossip. Certainly there are plenty of stories current about the pranks that he has played, but these are all of an innocent and boyish character. The prince creates the impression of the most complete wholesomeness; his six feet of well set up manhood, his bright eyes and clear, tanned skin, seem the outward and visible sign of a thoroughly clean and sound mind; common sense, frankness, fearlessness, dignity and kindness, are written in his every feature in a way that reminds people vividly of his lamented father; while the easy movements of an athletic body, always apparently in the pink of condition, are evidently allied to the smooth serenity of a mind confident in itself, but modest with the humility of knowledge. After having said so much that is pleasant of the prince, I must, in pursuance of my determination to give the shadows as well as the lights of my portraits, admit that there are two particulars in which Prince Henry cannot be said to shine. One of these is public speaking, and the other is shooting; he is as unfortunate in the one respect as in the other. His only public utterance of any importance was made at the time of his departure for China, when he addressed the emperor in such extravagant terms, referring to his "consecrated majesty," and so on, that it created mingled feelings of amazement and amusement from one end of the civilized world to the other! There has always been an impression in my mind that there was in this extraordinary speech just a suspicion of a disposition to guy his brother: for not only were the terms that he used entirely foreign to his character,--their _outré_ tenor bordering on the ridiculous,--but it is impossible for anyone who has ever heard him chaffing his seasick brother while out yachting, putting his head in at the cabin door every now and again, and calling out, "Well, Willie, how do you feel now, and what has become of your imperial dignity?" to believe that he was really serious when he so solemnly ascribed divine attributes to this selfsame Willie.