He sits with a map of the world before him, and he places his finger upon the inevitable spots which Germany must possess to keep time with the march of the world, to find new homes for her overflowing millions.

He has no military fervour, no tinselly patriotism.

He knows what Germany needs and he will carve her way towards it.

Look at him with his napkin tucked under his chin, broad-visaged, podgy, a slave, you might think, to the joys of the table and the grosser things of life.

You should see his eyes sometimes when the right note is struck, watch his mouth when he sits and thinks.