Punch: Punch (75.1878)

iv

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[January 4, 1879.

To decant a bottle of the choicest sec into a foaming pot of the best bottled Barclay, was, for Punch, the work of a
moment. To floor it, was, for the Prince, the work of another.

"Das schmekt gut!" said the Keichskanzler, drawing a long breath, as he lifted his broad, bold beak from the pewter.
" And now, like ancient Teutons, having liquored, let us take counsel. About this troublesome Reichstag ? Parliamentary
plauderei is worse than Diplomatic."

" Take a hint from Beaconsfield. He does not find his Majority troublesome."

" Even he has Gladstone and the Opposition. Besides, in that geist-ridderx Vaterland of ours, all parties will insist
on having wills, wits, and ways of their own—idiotic, of course, but all the stubborner. Such a dumb, disciplined Majority
and Cabinet as your Beaconsfield is blessed with, are not for me—worse luck !—or I would have made something better out
of them than an Asia Minor Convention and an Afghan War."

" You forget Cyprus, and Peace with Honour !"

The Prince looked at Punch ; Punch looked at the Prince. Then, slowly and simultaneously, their thumbs rose to
the tips of their noses, and their Sogers expanded.

" He is very clever," said the Prince, after a pause. " Next to my own career, I know none so "—here he paused for
a word—" h'm—remarkable. I always respect architects of their own fortunes. One may even be pardoned for being curious
about their tools and plans, though one has no right to be critical, in this world of Parliaments and Plenipotentiaries."

<fHe still awaits the revelations of his Busch."

" Yes, Montague Corry is really a Private Secretary. But I hate mysteries, Asian or European. I like going straight
to the point, no matter what I may have to walk over, whether it be what commonplace people call good taste, good manners,
delicacy, humanity—was soli ich sagen ?—prejudices of all kinds. One has one's omelettes to make, and it is idle to cry over the
eggs. Your Beaconsfield plays his cards differently. We saw a good deal of each other—I was almost saying ' into each
other,' aber das rear nicht so leicht—at Berlin. We play different games. But then our stakes are so different. He punts
for himself. I for Vaterland. Apropos of Vaterland, wre are wrasting time. To our counsel. First, there is this
distress, bitter, wide-spread, and spreading ever wider; then these unreasonable discontents with discipline and the drill-
sergeant ; then these loieder-ivariige Priests ; then these stupid Socialists—not bad fellows, by any means, some of them;
Lasalle was a wonderfully clever l;erl—might have been a Beaconsfield had his lot been cast here, and had he been cooler
over his cards—and Buciier is a trump, for all he has come through the Socialist mill; then there's this old quarrel between
Free Trade and Protection, which you English flattered yourselves you had settled-"

" Stop, Prince ! " interposed Punch, courteously, but firmly. " Immensely flattered to be pumped by your Excellency ;
but on condition you allow Punch his turn at your handle. We have the same red-hot questions among us that blaze
or smoulder among you:—the Dis!ress ; the Discontent; the Priests—within the walls of our Protestant Church, too,
not outside of it, as with you; Socialism, though with us it has hardly got beyond Trades'-unionism, and striking at its own
bread-and-butter, instead of its Sovereign ; Protection—What if Lord Beaconsfield's last transmutation were to be into a
defender of Free Trade against his own pack ? On all these burning questions if I am to show, you how to throw cold water,
I shall expect jou to return the favour. My counsel stands ready written—here ! " And Punch laid his hand on a volume
bound in regal purple. " Where is the record of yours ? "

" H'm ! I write in Acts, not Books," said the Prince. "As for written record of me, compared with yours, as the
Greek warrior in Homer says, 'tis ' Brass armour against golden ; things worth nine oxen for things worth a hundred.' "

And he placed in Punch's hands Buschlein's Graf Bismarck und seine Leute, in unequal exchange for Punch's
latest treasure of Wit and Wisdom---