An untutored savage of Central Africa, or of the wilds of Australia may be bored; so are many of the ignorant houris of Oriental harems and zenanas. Nay, even an energetic business man may feel temporarily bored by enforced bodily or mental inaction, or by dreary associations; but that can scarcely be described as ennui, a feeling which in the true sense of the word means being thoroughly blase and oppressed by moral and physical satiety. You must know everything, have tried everything, have had all your personal wishes and desires satisfied, all obstacles removed from your path, and pass your way through life with the firm conviction that there remains nothing to interest or arouse your ambition in order to be a victim of ennui. The greatest sufferers from this disagreeable sensation are, as I have just remarked, the royal and imperial personages of Europe, and although the emperors of Germany and Austria have the greater portion of their time taken up by the business of the State, and the administration of the government of their respective countries, yet neither of them is exempt from ennui. Indeed, there are no princes whose features betray to such an extent unmistakable evidence of ennui, as those of the imperial house of Hapsburg, while Emperor William’s choice of many of his friends is guided by the powers which they may possess to entertain him, and to deliver him in his hours of leisure from that dreaded complaint. Of course there are exceptions to this rule, and there are several of Emperor William’s cronies who owe the friendship of their sovereign to kindnesses which they rendered, and devotion which they displayed to him, in the days prior to his accession to the throne. But in the majority of instances, the sometimes strange selection of friends made by the emperor is attributable to the fact that the personages to whom he accords his favor succeed in amusing and entertaining him during the time that he is not occupied with the cares of his empire.