After my departure from Berlin there flitted over to America
conflicting accounts of him, and during the short reign of his
father there was considerable growth of myth and legend to his
disadvantage. Any attempt to distil the truth from it all would
be futile; suffice it that both in Germany and Great Britain
careful statements by excellent authorities on both sides have
convinced me that in all that trying crisis the young man's
course was dictated by a manly sense of duty.

The first thing after his accession which really struck me as a
revelation of his character was his dismissal of Bismarck. By
vast numbers of people this was thought the act of an exultant
young ruler eager to escape all restraint, and this opinion was
considerably promoted in English-speaking countries by an
ephemeral cause: Tenniel's cartoon in "Punch" entitled "Dropping
the Pilot." As most people who read this will remember, the iron
chancellor was therein represented as an old, weatherbeaten
pilot, in storm-coat and sou'wester, plodding heavily down the
gangway at the side of a great ship; while far above him, leaning
over the bulwarks, was the young Emperor, jaunty, with a
satisfied smirk, and wearing his crown. There was in that little
drawing a spark of genius, and it sped far; probably no other
cartoon in "Punch" ever produced so deep an effect, save,
possibly, that which appeared during the Crimean War with the
legend "General February turned Traitor"; it went everywhere,
appealing to deep sentiment in human hearts.

And yet, to me--admiring Bismarck as the greatest German since
Luther, but reflecting upon the vast interests involved--this act
was a proof that the young monarch was a stronger man than any