venerable image even during his life, similar to the old legend, exercised its charm far beyond the German boundaries until, at last, the heavy burden of years brought him to the grave. And when at that grave it is said that no future Emperor will bear the crown of the Empire as his equal it is true in a sense of profound significance.
This does, indeed, not mean that no successor may equal or even surpass him in mental power, for his gifts were not those of genius; but he did possess the gift invaluable in a ruler—a gift of mind and of character at the same time—to perceive with a clear eye the genius, the wisdom and the energy of others, to accommodate himself with modesty to the superiority of others, and to open to them the sphere of action and of glory, aye, without jealousy to see the merit of others under his orders placed, in the opinion of the world, above his own. In September, 1870, after the battle of Sedan, he offered in the circle of his faithful ones, but heard by the whole civilized world, this toast: “We must to-day drink the health of my brave army. You, Minister of War von Roon, have sharpened the sword; you, General von Moltke, have wielded it, and you, Count Bismarck, have lifted Prussia to the present altitude of its power through the conduct of its policy.” Well, and if Roon, Moltke and Bismarck had done all this, for which King William expressed to them his gratitude, before all the world, what then remained for King William himself? The merit of having brought to light and of having given free scope to the statesmanlike genius of Bismarck, the organizing genius of Roon and the military genius of Moltke; the merit of that sound sense which, sacrificing pride and prejudice, puts those more capable into action and encourages them to the highest exertion of their power; the merit of that unselfishness which is so often lacking in
