THE GOSPEL OF HATE

Evening Post, Volume LXXXIX, Issue 126, 29 May 1915, Page 11

THE GOSPEL OF HATE

Lissauer's " Hymn of Hate" has been supplemented by a prose effusion in the same insensate tone, written by Lieut.Colonel Kaden. The Times gives the following translation of it: — FIRE. As children many of us have played with it ; some of us have seen an outbreak of fire. First a small tongue-like flame appears ; it grows into a devastating fury of heat. We out here in the field have seen more than enough of it. But there is also the fire of joy, of sacred enthusiasm : It arose from sacrificial altars, from mountain heights of Germany, and lit up the heavens at the time of solstice and whenever the home countries were in danger. This year fires of joy shall flare from the Bismarck columns throughout the length and j breadth of Germany, for on Ist April, just one hundred years ago, our country's greatest son was born. Let us celebrate this event in a manner deep, far-reaching and mighty ' Blood and Iron ! Let every German, man or woman, young or old., find in his heart a Bismarck column, a pillar of fire, now in these days of storm and stress. Let this fire, enkindled in every German breast, be a fire of joy, of holiest enthusiasm. But let it be terrible, unfettered ; let it carry horror and destruction ! Call it hate ! Let no one come to you with "Love thine enemy!" We all have but one enemy, England ! How long have we wooed her almost to the point of our own self-abasement. She would none of us, so leave to her tho apostles of peace, the "No War" disciples. The time has passed when we would do homage to everything English — our cousins that wex-e ! "pod punish England!" "May He punish her!" This is the greeting that now passes when Germans nipet. The fire of this righteous hate is all aglow. You men of Germany, from east to west, forced to shed your blood in the defence of your homeland through England's infamous envy and hatred of Germany's progress, feed the flame that burns in your souls. We have but one war-cry, "God punish England!" Hiss this to one another in the trenches, in the charge, hiss as it were the sound of licking flames. Behold in every dead comrade a sacrifice forced from you by this accursed people. Take tenfold vengeance for each hero's death ! You German people at home, feed this fire of hate ! You mothers, engrave this in the heart of the babe at your breast ! You thousands of teachers to whom millions of German children look up with eyes and hearts, teach Hate, unquenchable Hate ! You homes of German learning, pile up the fuel on this fire ! Tell the nation that this hate is not un-German, that it is not poison for our people. Write in letters of fire the name of our" bitterest enemy. You guardians of the truth, feed this sacred Hate ! You German fathers, lead your children Up to the high hills of our homestead, at their feet our dear country bathed in sunshine. Your women and children shall starve; bestial, devilish conception. England wills it ! Surely all that is in you rises against such infamy? Listen to the ceaseless song of the German forest, behold the fruitful fields like rolling seas, then will your love for this wondrous land find the right words, "Hate, unquenchable Hate! Germany, Germany, above all !" Let it be inculcated, in your children, and it will grow like a landslide, irresistible, from generation to generation. You fathers, proclaim it aloud over the billowing fields, that the toiling peasant below may hear you, that the birds of the forest may fly away with the message ; Into the land that echoes from German cliffs send it reverberating like the clanging of bells from tower to tower throughout the countryside: "Hate, Hate, the accursed English. Hate!" You masters, carry the flame to your workshops ; axe and hammer will fall the heavier when arms are nerved by this Hate. You peasants, guard this flame, fan it anew in th© hearts of your toilers that the hand may rest heavy on the plough that throws up the soil of our homeland. What Carthage was to Rome, England is to Germany. For Rome, as for us, it is a question of "•to be or not to be." May our people find a faithful mentor like Cato. His " Cetemm senseo, Carthaginem esse delendam " for us means: "GOD PUNISH ENGLAND."