Hadrian endured an hour of terror. The task of dealing with an emperor—He was inclined to put it from Him as being too great a thing for Him. But He felt inquisitive to know what the Kaiser wanted. He Who sits upon the throne of Peter looks at all the world, knowing that He will see either enemies—or suitors. Hadrian also was inquisitive to see the person and the mind of the man whom He invariably had defended as being the only sovereign in Europe whose conduct indicated belief in his own divine right to sovereignty, and as being one of the few delightful persons in the world who can contemplate their own minds and behold they are very good. Hadrian was interested in William II as an extremely fine specimen of the absolute type. Yet—He hesitated to come to close relations with him, because—well, for one thing, because He disliked being domineered over, and this military Michael from the high Hohenzollem hilltop was certain to smack of the barracks. All the same, popes had received emperors before now; and it had not always been the emperors who had domineered. But could He love him? Well, at any rate, He could try to save him trouble. Then what was the Kaiser’s object? He knew that something or other was wanted of Him; and He feared—feared lest He should say, as usual, more than He meant to say, and give, as usual, more than He need give. That, though, could be prevented. He would make this rule for the occasion:—Listen little, inquire less, affirm least, and concede nothing now. Good! It should be done. He had a couple of easy chairs placed in the throne-room, and a small table with cigarettes, cigarette-papers and tobacco, the Crab Mixture which George Arthur Rose had invented. He sat-down in one of the chairs by the window: took out the little gold pyx from His bosom; and held it in His hands while He awaited the Emperor’s arrival. His eyes became still and grave. His lips moved swiftly. A singular serenity inspired Him. … The introducer-of-sovereigns announced “The Duke of Königsberg.”
“Your Majesty’s visit gives Us great pleasure,” was the Apostle’s greeting to the Kaiser, uttered in that clear young minor voice which was so well known in Rome. The two potentates took each the other’s measure in a glance. The Emperor, smartly groomed in plain evening-dress with ribbon, cross, and star, had that slightly conical head which marks the thinker and the single-minded obstinate man. The Pope, a year his junior, gave an impression of clean simplicity with His white habit and His keen white face. There was a distance, a reticence, in His gaze. He had remembered William’s Teutonic osculation of His indignant predecessor; and, as the Kaiser approached Him, He took the imperial hand and shook it in the glad-to-see-you-but-keep-off English fashion. Spring-dumb-bells had given the Pope a grip like a vice and an arm like a steel piston-rod. The Emperor blinked once.
“I am grateful to Your Holiness for receiving me in this informal manner.”
The Pope inclined His head: motioned His guest to a chair; and offered cigarettes. He Himself rolled one: lighted it; and sat down.
“I have the pleasure of personally congratulating Your Holiness on Your election; and I trust that God will grant You many years in which to rule Your section of His people wisely and well.”
“It is Our sincere hope that Our endeavour to feed Christ’s flock may be acceptable.”
“I have many Catholics in my empire; and I may say that their virtues merit my fullest approbation.”
The Pope again inclined His head.
“I understand that Your Holiness has never been in Germany?”
“No. Our life hitherto has been an unimportant one. We are almost ignorant of the world and of men, except perhaps from the viewpoint of the outside observer and student.”
“My sainted mother used to quote an English proverb which says that Onlookers see most of the game.”
“All English proverbs, which are positive, have their correspondent negative—‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’—‘Out of sight out of mind.’—Your Majesty’s proverb is contradicted by ‘Only the toad under the harrow has counted the spikes.’ We mean that We have learned much of what is done, but very little of the details of the doing.”
“Ah, that of course comes by heredity or by practice—”
“Or by occession.”
“I fear that I do not quite follow.”
The Pope suddenly was afraid that He had been guilty of a sort of appeal for this mighty emperor’s pity and consideration toward His plebeian origin and inexperience. Was this keeping His troubles to Himself? He hastened to divert the conversation from Himself.
“Our predecessor St. Peter was an illiterate plebeian of no importance: but, by the occession of Divine Grace, His Holiness was enabled to wield the keys of the kingdom of Heaven, and to win the unfading palm down there by the obelisk.”
“Ah yes. And I trust that Your Holiness may be similarly enabled. I have very little doubt but that You will be. The favour of the Almighty seems to be with men of our nation in a preeminent degree.”
“Our nation?”
“Yes. Surely Your Holiness remembers that, by birth, I am half-English?”
“Oh indeed yes. But, Majesty, in England you are thought of as being wholly German.”
“I am much misunderstood in England.” Again the head inclined in silence led the Emperor on. “And also I have been much misunderstood in Germany. The English suspect me of plotting mischief against England; and my empire has been suspecting me of such leanings toward England as to interfere with my proper duty of attending to the interests of Germany!”
“And both suspicions are equally gratuitous.”
“Both. As a matter of duty, I think first of the interests of Germany: but, for the sake of those very interests, I am anxious to cultivate the friendship of England. Personally I have a great appreciation of many English qualities, as my many English friends know. And of course, although she was a somewhat terrible
