Orbilian Colossus, You'd chide us and spank us and goad us and toss us, But when Polyphemus world-wigging would try He may--pardon the _argot_--get "one in the eye." And _Punch_, Herr Professor, whose point seldom misses, Is ready if needful to play the Ulysses. The attempt to represent Bismarck as a professor might not seem to show a very acute reading of the facts were it not that German professors proved the chief inflamers of militarism. It must be added that, as a set off to this expostulation, _Punch_ indited a remarkably genial poem to Bismarck a couple of weeks later on the occasion of his seventieth birthday. But this can hardly have atoned for the extremely acid and acute satire on the Spirit of German Colonization published about the same time. Here Germania declares her intentions to the native races in language which the treatment of the Herreros in German South-West Africa proved to be well within the mark:-- I haf brought you German culture for the poddy and the mind, Die erhabene Kultur of efery sort and efery kind; All the pessimistic dogtrines of the Schopenhauer school And the blessings of a bureaucratish-military rule. I shall teach you shplendit knowledge, vot you hitherto haf lacked, That religion is a fantasy, vhilst sausage is a fact; Ja, the mysteries of sauerkraut to you shall be made clear, And your souls shall learn to float on foaming waves of Lager-Bier! I do not intend to long-while you mit missionary rant, But to brighten up your intellects mit Hegel and mit Kant. Mit our Army-Service system I'll begift you by-and-by, And mit all the priceless blessings of our Hohe Polizei. Ach! I lofes you as a moder, and your happiness, I shwear, Shall forefer be the von surpassing object of my care. _I'll_ civilize you, Kinder, mid dem edlen Gerstenbrei, And mit discipline, Potztausend!--or I'll know the reason vhy! And then die hehre Göttin, hof'ring in the aether blue, Vill summon up her gunboats and her Pickelhauben too, Her bearded brawny varriors, vot nefer knew no fear, And troops of learned bureaucrats, all buttoned-up to here. Then if the shtupit natifes don't attend to vot she said, And makes themselves unpleasant, they must all be shooted dead; For trifles in the vay of German culture must not shtand-- Hoch soll der Bismarck leben! I drinks, "Our Fatherland!" [Sidenote: _Lord Randolph Churchill_]