_PUCK, February 15th, 1888._
This cartoon bears date of February 15th, 1888, but it might have
appeared with very little variation at any time during the last ten
or twelve years of Bismarck’s premiership. While that great and clear
light shone in the European heavens nothing was left wholly to chance
in all that quarreling, jealous congeries of states. Nothing was
done--nothing was even planned that was not in some measure suggested
or shaped by that giant will and that alert and far-seeing intelligence.
It is worth while to call attention to the logical composition of this
cartoon. Observe that it is _thought out_ to the last point. The eye
takes in at a glance the thronging, hungry beasts of prey, the mighty
luminary hanging high in the firmament and the poor little Bulgarian
rat helpless on his little rock amidstream between the frowning cliffs,
yet safe in that clear radiance so long as it deigns to shine upon him.
But note the settled suggestion of warlike possibilities conveyed by
the helmet on the head of the Man in the Moon and the curious hints
of animal ferocity given by the lines under the heavy moustache, the
feline cleft in the middle, and the mane-like touches beside the
cheeks. Now, looking at the cat-like beasts of prey, observe that
Prussia occupies the point of advantage, and uses it to “stand off” the
approach of Russia, who crouches on a somewhat higher cliff, rapacious,
strong, eager, yet with wary eyes half-turned upon the ever-dreadful
Prussia. Follow that furtive cat-like glance a little further and you
will see that it takes cognizance of the sly approach toward the prey
which Austria is making under cover of Germany’s position. Italy and
France crawl on in the background, paying more attention to each other
than to their remote chances of individual gain. Russia and France, you
see, are on one side of the stream; the Triple Alliance of the hour
on the other. For a touch of interesting detail look at the figure of
France with its fine bushy beard, its red liberty cap, and its very
conspicuous epaulettes. To one who follows the nicety of the artist’s
symbolization, this indicates that the picture was drawn at the time
when “Boulangism” was rampant in Paris. It was not the era of Thiers,
the clean-shaven statesman, or the _vieux Militaire_ time of MacMahon,
or the time of Grévy with his little bourgeois whiskers. It was a
sort of bogus-Gambetta revival, which is aptly characterized here in
features that suggest those of President Carnot, without permitting the
weak amiability of his expression to typify militant France. And--one
thing more--note how that whole picture, by means of color, composition
and perspective, centres itself to your eye in one little figure that
does not occupy (by measure) the one two-hundredth part of its space.
[Illustration]
IN MEMORIAM EMPEROR WILLIAM I.--HOW HE FOUND GERMANIA, AND HOW HE
LEAVES HER.
_PUCK, March 21st, 1888._
“There was one King in Europe two weeks ago, one King worthy of the
name, and there is none to-day. And in this fact there is much more
significance than we of America are likely to note. To us a King is
an anachronism. His name is something that belongs to the time of
fable and fairy-story. We do not quite realize that he exists; that
he is still a power. There is an intrinsic unreasonableness in the
idea of his continuance, out of the world of fiction, that inclines
us to disbelieve in his very existence. We can hardly conceive of him
as anything more than a puppet--as a mere figure-head for a governing
ministry.
“But the late Emperor of Germany was a King. He was King of Prussia
before he was Emperor of Germany; and as King and Emperor he set up a
standard of conduct by which few men would care to govern their lives.
He tried to be a King, having a high conception of what a King should
be, and, as far as in him lay the power, he was a King. At least, he
was a mortal who strove hard to be more than other mortals, and who
strove from a sense of duty. We may--and must--hold the effort futile;
yet we may respect the spirit that prompted it. We Americans have no
use for Kings; and we have ideas as to popular government that King
Wilhelm of Prussia, later Emperor of Germany, would never understand.
But let us consider that it would be well for us if we had a few
statesmen, among those who are governing us on speculation, who would
look on their responsibilities as this dead European monarch did on
his. He knew that his place was greater than he was, and he tried to
make himself fit for it. And, now that he is dead, his people mourn
a brave man gone; if they are to have Kings or Emperors to rule them
in the future, they will go far before they find a better man of his
kind.”--PUCK, _March 21st, 1888_.
[Illustration]