"SATAN'S PARTY."
(To as EDITOS OF Ma " SPECT ATOR."1 SM.-^I read with some surprise the letter from your correspondent "Fair Play" in your issue of December 14th. He need not fear that our just indignation will degenerate into violence and vindic- tiveness. The British people are just at heart; the danger, if any, comes from the panic which some of our rulers display when they are threatened by unwise persons with very loud voices. We must be firm and strong, but we need not imitate those Germans whose spirit—the spirit which arouses the Just wrath of every honest man—is well described in the following verses, which were. written by a distinguished soldier now serving abroad. In the letter which accompanied them he says :— "1 find that many share my dread the though we are near conquering the armies of our detestable foe, and, I trust, going to give him such financial and other punishment as will rest in the general memory of mankind, the Germans may yet beat us spiritu- ally by reason of our becoming inoculated with some of their worst characteristics:. After all, the war came as a result of Germany putting logically into action the theories of the song which occurs in the enclosed verses—theories which were largely, if more feebly, held before the war in other " civilized " countries. Those theories are deadly, and as foolish as their opposite—i.e., mawkish sentiment."
"SATAN'S PARTY.
Satan gave a cheery party, and he summoned all his friends And he set the table for them in the dusk : There was Mammon—purple robes a-fringed with guineas at the ends, There was Moloch—dripping jaws and gleaming tusk.
And for lighting, what could better a cathedralled ancient town Set so skilfully ablating by his imps P While for music—screams of women, as their captors cut 'em down After samples were selected by the pimps.
Round his lofty caverned halls, with their skull encrusted walls, Rose the odours and the smoking, of the feast, And he chuckled in his pride, Since the night the " Saviour" died Never banquet could appproach it in the least.'
Satan little drinks himself, though on each surrounding shelf Gleamed the bloody-frothing tankards for his guests, For he keeps his wits—does he—though it pleases him to see That 'hie friends are drinking deeply of his best.
When the whole of them were sated, each achievement was nar- rated And he measured out his praises and his blame; Then he called 'em close around—you could hardly hear a sound, Nor have thought those eager listeners the same.
'So far good '—he cleared his throat to attain a clearer note— But there's much that still remains for us to do; For our most be-petted nation swiftly sinks to its damnation; We must find us fresh supporters, staunch and true.
Now I'm sure a little thought will instruct us how we ought To approach the new conditions that we find; We must pour the German soul from its cracked and broken bowl And so poison quite another sort of mind.
These " Allies " are stupid men, and, were much astonished when German Thought and Method burst upon their view.
They must also say that Force (as you know it does, of course) Gives the means to raise their fortunes once anew.
Justice is Folly, and Mercy is stuff; Pile up my riches, I can't have enough. Woe to the struggler, up with the strong. Hail to Beelzebub—fetch him along! Friendship is nought and Religion a Farce, Teach us how best we may rivals out-pass, Grinding bureaucracy circles our dream, Merit and honour are just what they seem, Useless embroideries—sharpen the knife—! Down with the friend in the struggle-for-life.
Such is the song that I wish you to teach 'em, Lecture 'em, write 'em, and sing 'em, and preach 'ems Soak 'em in falsehood and set 'em to fight— So we may finally conquer the Right.'
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• B. C. P.
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