would cross the room and take possession of the comfortable armchair, which was placed in such manner that he could watch the dancers whilst talking to any one with whom he might wish to converse; or else, before going to his own particular corner, he would make a tour of the room, stopping to speak to those he knew, or requesting to have any he cared to know presented to him. est trop bonne,"-wildly hoping So soon as the music ceased he that the absolute vagueness of the phrase might in some way apply to the situation. Apparently it did not, for the Emperor looked a trifle puzzled, and then, with a frank smile lighting up the fine soldier-face, he said inquiringly "You speak German ? Yes, of course; you were good enough to sing for us on Sunday." From that moment it was all right; and in the course of the following three weeks, during which time I frequently had the honour of meeting and conversing with the Kaiser under Countess Lehndorff's hospitable roof, he invariably spoke in his native tongue, which I had no difficulty in understanding. Every evening, when dining at a little table on the terrace of the Baderschloss, we could see Kaiser Wilhelm, who, having first finished his own dinner, would smoke his cigar at the open window above, and look down in amused interest at the various parties there assembled; and when eight o'clock came, an open Victoria would drive up to the side door of the hotel, upon the box-seat of which, beside the coachman, was always the faithful jäger who so bravely screened his Imperial master from the shots of the assassin at the time of the first attempt upon his life at Berlin. The Emperor, attended by his handsome aide-de-camp, who generally went by the name of le beau Lehndorff, and who was a brother of the owner of La Solitude, would enter the Victoria and be rapidly driven to the evening's entertainment, whatever it might be. Had the dance already begun, the aged monarch would remain quietly standing at the door beside his hostess, smiling at those he knew who in turn might pass him, but allowing no interruption of the dance on account of his arrival. At one of these sociable little dances a figure was introduced into the cotillon which struck me as rather a trying one, and which, I fear, would hardly prove a success in a London drawing-room. Each lady had given to her, on a slip of paper, part of a verse of some poem, which she was to read aloud; and the man who found on his slip of paper the remaining half of the verse was likewise to read it, and then dance with the lady. Germans are passionately fond of poetry, and I was often struck by their familiarity with their native authors, therefore the responses to the ladies' readings were prompt and ready. I rather doubt the same result were "Young England" suddenly called upon to fit the remaining lines to the first half of a verse-even with the advantage of holding them written in his hand! Upon this particular occasion, I begged that my verse might be of the shortest. As a rule, I am thankful to say, I am not shy; but to stand directly in front of the Emperor of Germany, surrounded by a room full of Germans and Austrians-myself the one only foreigner among them-and amid deep silence to read aloud the words of one of their favourite poets in the German tongue,--I felt to be a trifle severe upon my nerves. However, this ordeal, as the previous one of singing in the church, passed off without actual would never have suspected his calamity. His Majesty was good enough to applaud the perform ance; and my destined partner read his part of the verse so promptly, and whirled me off in the dance so quickly, that I scarcely realised what I had done before it was all over. At another time, when I returned to my seat after a figure in the cotillon, I found the Emperor seated beside me, he having taken my partner's place during our absence. The old man was charming-talking so easily and agreeably, that I quite forgot any previous awe which I might have felt. He spoke of his beloved Berlin, asking if I had been there; and my account of the adventures which had befallen me in that notable city seemed to strike him as so comical, that he laughed heartily, and as though no cares of empire weighed upon his shoulders, no Prince Bismarck had fallen to his lot as Prime Minister, and no Socialists awaited impatiently the chance of shortening his venerable life. Yet others felt how carefully that life must be guarded if assassins, already baffled, were to be ultimately defeated; and the Emperor William never went for a morning stroll along his favourite Kaiser Promenade, that armed soldiers and sergents de ville did not precede and follow him, to see that no dastardly hand lay in wait to strike down the erect and soldierly form. Surrounded by the officers and gentlemen of his suite, he would walk along the broad path named after himself, or wend his way up the steep hillside to a certain point de vue where a bowling-alley had been erected; and there he would watch the games, or even join in them himself, despite the fact that he carried the weight of over eighty years. One great age when conversing with him, or seeing the active life he led. When the time came for the Emperor to leave Gastein, he sent a message through his aid-de-camp to those whom he wished to assemble in the hall of the Baderschloss to bid him adieu. I was reading in bed, about eight o'clock in the morning, when the message reached me, coupled with the intimation that I would be expected to present his Majesty with some flowers. The farewell ceremony was appointed for twelve o'clock. At once I sent my maid to get some blue corn-flowers, which are the Emperor's favourites, and which in Germany go by the name of Kaiserblumen, whilst I myself made as rapid a toilet as possible. The girl returned with only a small handful of the flowers-they had all been bespoken and bought up long since, in anticipation of the royal departure. To present a trifling little bunch was out of the question, knowing how elaborate were some of the floral designs and bouquets already prepared; so I quickly made the flowers into the form of a horse-shoe, fastening in the gold hearts of Marguerites as the nails. This I tied with a Prussian blue ribbon, upon which I painted in white, "Glück auf," the German for "Bon voyage." My humble offering completed, I descended the steep hill from our villa, and found myself among the little party at the Baderschloss, where were assembled the mayor of Gastein, my friend the HofPrediger, Count Lehndorff, and several other officials, three German ladies and three Austrian. all stood in a line around the hall, and waited until the Kaiser appeared, followed by his aidede-camp. To each in turn the Emperor said a few words, and the We ladies presented their bouquets; which, after taking, his Majesty handed to General Lehndorff, who walked directly behind him in this farewell "progress." I was the last in line, and to my great surprise, as I offered my horse-shoe of flowers, the emperor drew from his pocket a little case containing a horse-shoe in gold, which he hoped I would wear in remembrance of der alter Kaiser. Naturally I was much pleased by the gracious gift, which to-day is amongst my favourite possessions. I bent and kissed the old man's hand, and then watched him drive away, surrounded by his flowers, feeling that that I looked for the last time upon brave old Kaiser Wilhelm. I had myself been in Berlin when both attacks were made upon the life of the Emperor, when Hoedle shot at him from the crowd, and Nobling from a window overlooking the celebrated street, Unter den Linden. A curious little incident occurred upon the latter occasion. As the Emperor was going for his afternoon drive in the Thiergarten, he asked an attendant standing in the hall of the palace why such an unusual and gaily dressed crowd thronged the streets. against the metal. Had the unresisting cloth been there instead, who can tell how different the ending of the tragedy might have been? Two or three days after the attempted assassination, the old monarch asked to see the clothes he had worn on that fatal day. Looking at the military cape riddled with shot, and the dents in the eagle-capped helmet, he turned to those standing by his bedside, and with tears in his eyes, said, pointing to the marks of the bullets, "Thank God, it was not one of my own Berlin men who did that!" During those dark days in the German capital while it was not yet certain what the end might be, the anxious solicitude exhibited by all classes of society from the highest to the lowest, and through the length and breadth of the land, proved that if one hand had been found cowardly enough to fire at the oldest monarch in Europe, there were still thousands of men eager to prove themselves loyal subjects of the Emperor William. It is seldom that history records a life whose later years have only added to, instead of dimming, the greatness of its reputation; but at an age when most men have been laid aside as useless, and long after the date which even Scripture limits as the practical end of man, Kaiser Wilhelm continued to add new dignities and triumphs to his reign; and since establishing peace, has nobly championed the cause of peace, giving all the weight of his great influence to keep Europe undisturbed by the horrors of war. Rarely has there been an old age more honoured, or more worthy of honour; and one and all must unite in hoping that the rejoicings of the year 1887 may not be the last to greet the gallant Emperor at Berlin. LABOUR AND CAPITAL IN AUSTRALIA. THE depression of trade and agriculture at present prevalent over nearly all the world is in Australia more fictitious than real. The unemployed are there in large numbers, as they are in England. But how different is their position from that of the same class at home! In Australia they are unemployed, not because there is no work waiting to be done; they do not hunger for bread and meat, but they thirst for unlimited beer, and uphold the "eight hours a-day" principle, which in their opinion is the utmost time a man ought to be required to labour for his living. Sustained by a paternal Government with daily wages on relief works, paid with the money kindly provided for them out of loans subscribed by a credulous public at home, why should they work for private employers of labour, who can only afford to pay at the rate the state of trade justifies them in giving? "We shall not accept work from you," they say to the employers, "at a lower rate than Government pays us. No matter what is the state of the labour market, no matter how depressed trade may be, we must not suffer. Employers may be ruined, but Government can raise loans which will be utilised for public works-works to be made by us at a rate of wages which we consider necessary for our existence. As long as there is a Government, it is our right to demand from it that it should provide us with employment and wages." The Government, from the nature of its constitution, of necestity agrees with this. It cannot resist, for manhood suffrage has laid it at the feet of the working classes. What they demand must be conceded. Loans, therefore, are raised, and the working man prospers for the present. What matters it to him how much the loans increase, how much public debt is piled up? He has no future interest in the country, and as long as money can be borrowed, as long as labour can be kept up at a fictitious price, so long will he stay and prosper. But when the time comes as it surely will come, unless forms of government different in material respects from those at present in use arise to control the future-when no more money can be raised, then will the working man depart to some other place. "What need we look to, except to the present?" is his cry; "we have no stake in the country; the Government stock is not ours; we can always go away and try the same old game elsewhere." At the same time, the representatives of the working classes see, and see very clearly, that if the unemployed of England and other countries ever become acquainted with the real facts of the case, and understand the nature of the position, then will their day be nearly done. Other men willing to work will flock out to their shores, and their trades-unions, at present the most powerful in the world, will be unable to absorb them all, and the price of labour will fall to its proper level. The result, however disastrous to this selfish policy, would be that the country, which at present is insufficiently populated, would become rapidly opened up. Millions of acres of land in that would stop the supplies in the shape of loans, which alone enable the Government, really worked by the trades-unions, to obtain money to pay the demands of the so-called unemployed. Australia which are practically the credit of their colony in a way valueless because of the expense of clearing at the present excessive rate of labour, would become available. Land which would be profitable if cleared at £8 an acre, now lies as useless as the desert of Sahara for all practical purposes, simply because it would cost from £15 to 20 per acre under the existing state of affairs to clear it. About six months ago, the writer happened to be in Sydney when an emigrant-ship came in. At that time there were a number of unemployed at Sydney—that is, a number of men employed on the Government relief works, at the high Government rate of wages -and there were immediately loud outcries in the local papers against the Government for bringing more working men into the country. Nearly every man in the ship was engaged on the day of its arrival, at what would be very high wages in England, and there was a demand for at least four or five times the number-especially for agricultural labourers. Everywhere the same complaint was heard, that men were not to be got at any reasonable wages for the stations. Yet the Government of New South Wales dare not encourage emigration. The reason is not far to seek the members of its Parliament are elected under the constitution by manhood suffrage. The working men have thus the Parliament under their thumbs, while they themselves are governed by their tradesunions, which say that the price of labour must be maintained. The latter know that the most effectual way to maintain it is to discourage as far as possible emigration, although they are sharp enough to be aware that in doing this they must be careful not to run down Have not the action and power of the trades-unions in New South Wales, since the arrival of the emigrant-ship mentioned above, been shown in the Government regulations of the colony on emigration, where there is now written. "No application for assisted passages can at present be entertained"? Do the paid delegates of the New South Wales trades-unions, lately sent to England, think they have succeeded in hoodwinking their fellow labouring men? If so, they make a mistake. They for the time may have thrown dust into the eyes of the many, but it will be wiped away. Let the English working man only ask these same delegates one simple question - How much does the man seeking Government relief in New South Wales receive as a daily wage, in money and money's worth, for his most valuable services? When that question has been answered, the Englishman will be better able to appreciate and understand why his colonial friends kindly take so much trouble to warn him against their adopted land. The responsible Governments of Victoria, New South Wales, and South Australia have ceased granting assisted passages to emigrants; but the colony of Queensland, where the squatters are more numerous and powerful than in the other colonies, do so to a certain extent. The rate of wages is highest in New South Wales, where it exceeds £50 per head per annum. |