THE BLOT ON THE KAISER'S 'SCUTCHEON

by

NEWELL DWIGHT HILLIS

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THE BLOT ON THE KAISER'S 'SCUTCHEON

by

NEWELL DWIGHT HILLIS, D. D. Author of "German Atrocities, " etc. 

[Decoration]

New York ChicagoFleming H. Revell CompanyLondon and Edinburgh

Copyright, 1918, byFleming H. Revell Company

_Uniform with this Volume_

German AtrocitiesBy NEWELL DWIGHT HILLISIllus. , Cloth, $1. 00 net

_A Million and a HalfExtracts from this bookhave been issued by theLiberty Loan Committee!_

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Contents

 I. THE ARCH-CRIMINAL 11 1. The Kaiser's Hatred of the United States. 2. The Kaiser's Character Revealed in His Choosing the Sultan for His friend. 3. Pershing's Charges versus the Kaiser. 4. Who Taught the Kaiser That a Treaty Is a Scrap of Paper? 5. The Plot of the Kaiser. 

 II. THE JUDAS AMONG NATIONS 31 1. The Original Plot of the Members of the Potsdam Gang. 2. The Berlin Schemers and Their Plot. 3. German Superiority a Myth That Has Exploded. 4. German Intrigues. 5. German Burglars Loaded with Loot Are the More Easily Captured. 6. Germans Who Hide Behind the Screen. 7. Must German Men Be Exterminated?

 III. THE BLACK SOUL OF THE HUN 60 1. German Barbarism Not Barbarism to the German. 2. The German "Science of Lying. " 3. The Malignity of the German Spies. 4. The Cancer in the Body-Politic of Germany. 5. Polygamy and the Collapse of the Family in Germany. 6. The Red-Hot Swords in Sister Julie's Eyes. 7. The Hidden Dynamite: The Hun's Destruction of Cathedrals. 8. The German Sniper Who Hid Behind the Crucifix. 9. The Ruined Studio. 10. Was This Murder Justified?

 IV. IN FRANCE THE IMMORTAL! 98 1. The Glory of the French Soldier's Heroism. 2. Why the Hun Cannot Defeat the Frenchman. 3. "I Am Only His Wife. " 4. A Soldier's Funeral in Paris. 5. The Old Book-Lover of Louvain. 6. A Vision of Judgment in Martyred Gerbéviller. 7. The Return of the Refugees. 8. An American Knight in France. 9. An American Soldier's Grave in France. 10. "These Flowers, Sir, I Will Lay Them Upon My Son's Grave. " 11. The Courage of Clemenceau. 

 V. OUR BRITISH ALLIES 132 1. "Gott Strafe England"--"And Scotland. " 2. "England Must Not Starve. " 3. German-Americans Who Vilify England. 4. British vs. American Girls in Munition Factories. 5. The Wolves' Den on Vimy Ridge. 6. "Why Did You Leave Us in Hell for Two Years?" 7. "This War Will End Within Forty Years. " 8. "Why Are We Outmanned By the Germans?"

 VI. "OVER HERE" 164 1. The Redemption of a Slacker. 2. Slackers versus Heroes. 3. German Stupidity in Avoiding the Draft. 4. "I'm Working Now for Uncle Sam. " 5. The German Farmer's Debt to the United States. 6. "Sharper Than a Serpent's Tooth" Is an Ungrateful Immigrant. 7. In Praise of Our Secret Service. 

Publisher's Explanatory Note

These brief articles are sparks struck as it were from the anvil ofevents. They were written on trains, in hotels, in the intervals betweenpublic addresses. During the past year beginning October 1, 1917, Dr. Hillis, in addition to his work in Plymouth Church, and as President ofThe Plymouth Institute, has visited no less than one hundred andsixty-two cities, and made some four hundred addresses on "The NationalCrisis, " "How Germany Lost Her Soul, " "The Philosophy of the GermanAtrocities, " and "The Pan-German Empire Plot, " the substance of theselectures and addresses being given in the book, "German Atrocities, "heretofore published. These articles are illustrative of andsupplementary to the principles stated in that volume. 

While consenting to publication, the author was not afforded opportunityfor full revision of this second volume, being again called over-seasjust as this book was being put into type. This will account for theform in which the material appears. 

THE ARCH-CRIMINAL

I

1. The Kaiser's Hatred of the United States

It is a proverb that things done in secret soon or late are publishedfrom the housetops. 

Certainly everything that was hidden as to the plots of the Potsdam gangis, little by little, now being revealed. 

Nothing illustrates this fact better than that volume published inLeipsic in 1907, called "Reminiscences of Ten Years in the GermanEmbassy in Washington, D. C. "

When that aged diplomat published the story of his diplomatic career hedoubtless thought that the volume prepared for his children andgrandchildren and friends was forever buried in the German language. Itnever even occurred to the Councillor of the Ambassador, von Holleben, that the book would ever fall into the hands of any American. The veryfact that an American author found the volume in a second-handbookstore of Vienna in 1914 and translated the three chapters on theKaiser's representatives in the United States and the organization ofthe German-American League, must have roused the Foreign Department inBerlin to the highest point of anger. 

Children and diplomats oftentimes unconsciously betray the mostimportant secrets. No volume ever published could possibly have revealedmatters of greater moment to Germany than this volume of reminiscencesthat sets forth the propaganda carried on in the United States byAmbassador von Holleben and his legal councillor for the furthering ofthe Pan-German Empire scheme. 

No scholar can doubt the right of this old diplomat to speak. The Kaiserpersonally vouched for him by giving him this important duty. Thehonours bestowed at the end of his long diplomatic career tell their ownstory. Every page breathes sincerity and truthfulness. No one who readsthis volume can doubt that this author gave the exact facts--facts wellknown to his German friends--in the recollections of his diplomaticcareer. 

This diplomat tells us plainly that von Holleben and himself were sentto the United States specially charged with the task of reunitingGermans who were naturalized in America with the German Empire. 

It was their duty to organize secret German-American societies in everygreat city like New York and Brooklyn, Chicago and Milwaukee, Cincinnatiand St. Louis, and to present to these societies a German flag sent fromthe hands of the Kaiser himself. 

Their work, says the author, was based upon the fact that the Kaiser hadpassed a law restoring full citizenship in Germany to those Germans whohad become naturalized citizens of the United States. When, therefore, these members of the German-American League formally accepted theirrestored citizenship their first duty was to the Fatherland and theKaiser and their second duty to the United States and its Government. Indeed, this lawyer and author actually goes so far as to give extractsfrom von Holleben's speech before the German-American League in Chicagowhen he presented the society with a German flag and swore the membersto the old-time allegiance. 

He says that in some way the editor of the Chicago _Tribune_ found outabout this meeting and wrote a very severe editorial, after which, headds, that von Holleben and himself had to be more careful. 

Concerning the Milwaukee meeting, he refers to a conversation whichrevealed his judgment that if ever there was trouble between Germany andthe United States the war would partake of the nature of a civil war. The author not only gives an account of the conference held at theWaldorf-Astoria between Ambassador von Holleben, Professors Munsterbergof Harvard and Schoenfield of Columbia and himself, on the one side, andHerman Ridder on the other, but he gives the instructions from Berlinthat Herr Ridder could only keep his subsidy from the German Governmentfor the New Yorker _Staats Zeitung_ by placing his fealty to Germanyfirst and subordinating his Americanism, and that otherwise Ambassadorvon Holleben would found a rival German paper that would have back of it"unlimited resources, to wit: the total resources of the German Empire. "

Here, then, is proof positive that the Kaiser began his efforts toestablish a pro-German movement against the United States for severalyears before 1906 and that he methodically kept it up until the warbegan. 

Through it all he claimed to be our sincere friend; but he was then, ashe is to-day, an implacable and relentless enemy, with a heart ladenwith hatred and bitterness. 

2. The Kaiser's Character Revealed in His Choosing the Sultan for HisFriend

Nothing tests manhood like the choice of a bosom-friend. Criminalschoose bad associates. 

Every Black Hand leader goes naturally towards the saloon, the gamblinghouse and the dens where thieves congregate. Dickens made Fagin surroundhimself with pickpockets, burglars and murderers. 

History tells us that Christianity has always kept good company. Itsfriends have been architects, artists, poets and statesmen. Christianityrepeats itself through its friends in the Gothic Cathedral shaped in theform of the cross, in the Transfiguration of Raphael, the Duomo ofGiotto, the Paradise Lost of Milton, the In Memoriam of Tennyson, theEmancipation Proclamation of Lincoln. Christianity has never formed anyclose friendships with jails, gallows or slave ships. Men like Gladstoneand Lincoln always kept good company; their friends have been scholarsand heroes; but, in striking contrast, consider the friends selected bythe Kaiser. 

To the Kaiser came a critical hour; at that moment he was at the partingof the ways. It became necessary for him to make a choice of friends. Like every man, his isolation was impossible and friendship became anecessity. 

The Kaiser had the whole world from which to choose. Yonder in Londonwere King Edward and his son, the Prince of Wales. In France werecertain statesmen and scientists like Curie. There was the old heroliving in the capital of Japan and two ex-Presidents known the worldaround for their splendid manhood; and he could have made overtures offriendship to any one of these brave men; but in the silence of thenight the Kaiser passed in review earth's great men, and finallyselected for his close friend the lowest of the low--the butcher, unspeakable butcher--the Sultan of Turkey. 

At that time the Sultan had just completed the butchery of manyArmenians. His garments were red with blood, his hands dripped withgore. His house was a harem; his hand held a dagger. The sea-wall behindhis palace rose out of the blue waters of the Bosporus. 

When an American battle-ship was anchored there and a diver went down hepulled a rope and was brought up, shivering with terror, and saying thathe found himself surrounded with corpses tied in sacks and held down bystones at the bottom of the sea. 

In that hour the Kaiser exclaimed: "Let the Sultan be my associate! Iwill go to Constantinople and sign a treaty with the unspeakablebutcher. "

And so the Kaiser took his train, lived in the Sultan's palace, signedthis treaty, and hired the Sultan's knife and club, just as the ChiefPriest Annas chose Judas to be his representative upon whom he couldload the responsibility for the murder of Jesus. 

Never was a friendship more damnable. Reared in a country that believedin the sanctity of the marriage relation and in monogamy, the Kaiserlined up with polygamy. The treaty that he made was thoroughgoing. Hesent out word to all Mohammedans, whether they lived in India or Persia, in Arabia or Turkey, that they must remember that the Kaiser had enteredinto a treaty to become their protector and friend. Having become aLutheran in Berlin, he became a Mohammedan in Constantinople on theprinciple that "When you are in Rome do as the Romans do, and when youare in hell act like the devil"--a simple principle which the Kaiserproceeded to obey as soon as he reached Constantinople. 

Every one knew that the Kaiser wanted to build a German railroad throughto Bagdad and the Persian Gulf; this would give him an outlet forsurplus goods to be sold in India. Serbia lay straight across the path, and he had to work out some scheme to attack Serbia. Then he needed theSultan's friendship, and the end justified the means--and the end wasthe Bagdad Railroad. 

But the Turk tired of being the Kaiser's tool; he wanted more land; theArmenian was in his way; the Turk was lazy, shiftless and a spendthrift. The Armenian was industrious and hard-working. The Turk's method ofliving made him poor. The gifts of the Armenian tended towards wealth. Once in twenty years the Turk found himself a pauper and found theArmenian rich; the result was envy and covetousness on the part of theSultan and his people. It became necessary to bribe the Turk to stand bythe Kaiser and his Baghdad Railroad. The Kaiser's German officers, therefore, furnished the bribe. 

"Let us go to this Armenian village, or that, and kill the people. WeGerman officers will take the large houses of the rich merchants andmove into them, and your Turkish soldiers can kill the old men, use theArmenian girls for the harem, and fling the little children's bodiesinto pits dug in the garden behind the house. We will enter the villagein the morning as soldiers; when the night comes, as Germans and Turks, we will be the only people living in the Armenian village, and we willmove into their stores and take possession of their houses and theirlooms. "

"You cannot hang an entire nation, " said Edmund Burke. "You must arrestthe leaders and hang them. " Burke was right as to the punishment ofcriminals, but he was wrong when it comes to murdering industrious andhonest Armenians. You can murder an entire nation, for the Germans andthe Turks have practically done it. Ambassador Morgenthau has just saidthat the Kaiser and the Sultan through their forces have murdered nearlya million Armenians. But, soon or late, remorse and conscience will takehold upon these two unspeakable butchers with hands that drip withblood--the butcher Kaiser, the butcher Sultan, that represent earth'stwo murderous twins. 

3. Pershing's Charges versus the Kaiser

Nothing measures a man so accurately as the names he gives to hisfavourite son. Most significant, therefore, is the fact that the Kaisernamed his second son Eitel, or Attila. Who was this Attila who hascaptured the imagination of the Kaiser? He was a Hun who devastatedItaly fifteen hundred years ago. The motto of this black-heartedmurderer Attila the Hun was: "Where my feet fall, let grass not grow fora hundred years. " When the Kaiser read Attila's story he exclaimed:"That is the man for me!" First, he named his favourite son for Attilathe Hun. Second, in sending his German soldiers out to China, and laterin 1914 to Belgium, he gave them this charge: "You will take noprisoners; you will show no mercy; you will give no quarter; you willmake yourselves as terrible as the Huns under Attila. " Plainly theKaiser knew his men. He knew that they were capable of outdoing eventhat monster Attila the Hun. So he sent them forth to bayonet babes, violate old women, murder old men, crucify officers, violate nuns, sink_Lusitanias_, and turn solemn treaties into scraps of paper. 

Now over against the Kaiser's charge, black as hell, and big with death, witness Pershing's charge, reported loosely by a French boy, with hisimperfect knowledge of English, translated out of the French newspaperson July 18, 1917. Pershing's brief address comes to this:

"Young soldiers of America, you are here in France to help expel aninvading enemy; but you are also here to lift a shield above the poorand weak; you will safeguard all property; you will lift a shield abovethe aged and oppressed; you will be most courteous to women, gentle andkind to little children; guard against temptation of every kind; fearGod, fight bravely, defend Liberty, honour your native land. God haveyou in His keeping. " "Pershing. "

The difference between yonder lowest hell in its uttermost abyss andyonder highest heaven, where standeth the throne of a just God, is notgreater than the chasm that separates that unspeakable butcher, theKaiser, from General Pershing and the American soldier boys, who havenever betrayed in France, the noblest ideals of service cherished by thepeople of the American Republic. 

4. Who Taught the Kaiser That a Treaty Is a Scrap of Paper?

Each month of this war clears away some clouds and reveals Germany aswholly given over to crime and treachery. At the beginning of theinvasion of Belgium, the Kaiser spoke of his treaty safeguarding theneutrality of that little land as a "scrap of paper. " At the moment noone seems to have realized whence the Kaiser had that cynicalexpression. Now the whole damnable story has been made clear. Twenty-five years ago the Kaiser, in one of his addresses, used thesewords:

"From my childhood I have been under the influence of fivemen--Alexander, Julius Cæsar, Theodoric II, Napoleon and Frederick theGreat. These five men dreamed their dream of a world empire; theyfailed. I am dreaming my dream of a world empire, but I shall succeed. "

Now why did the Kaiser over and over again proclaim his allegiance toFrederick the Great? How is it that he celebrates his ancestor, Frederick? This "scrap of paper" incident makes it all quite clear. Thebitter waters gushing out of the Potsdam Palace go back to a bitterspring named Frederick the Great. The poisoned fruit that ripened in1914 hangs on a bough whose trunk was planted by Frederick in far-offdays. 

Among many musty old German books recently published is a little book bythat same Frederick. The Prussian king was writing certain notes for theguidance of his sons and successors, among whom is the present Kaiser. In his page of counsels Frederick talks very plainly about the breakingof treaties:

"Consider a treaty as a scrap of paper under any one of the followingemergencies: First, when necessity compels it. Second, when you lackmeans to continue the war. Third, when you cannot by any other meanscombat your ally or enemy. "

Then Frederick raises one question: "If the interests of your army oryour people or yourself are at stake or you have to keep your word onone hand and your pledge word and treaty is on the other hand, whichpath will you take? Who can be stupid enough to hesitate in answeringthis question? In other words, treaties are to be kept when they promoteyour interest, and shamelessly broken when you gain thereby. "

The Kaiser, therefore, had from Frederick, his ancestor, this handbookon lying. In turn, the Kaiser gave this notion of the treaty as a scrapof paper to his Chancellor, Bethmann-Hollweg, who engraved, as has beensaid, "on eternal brass the infamy of Germany": "We are now in a stateof necessity, and necessity knows no law. We were compelled to overridethe the just protest of Luxembourg and Belgian Governments. The wrong--Ispeak openly--that we are committing we will endeavour to make good assoon as our military goal has been reached. Anybody who is threatened, as we are threatened, and who is fighting for his highest possessions, can have only one thought, how he is to hack his way through. "

Guizot mentions "honour and fidelity to the pledged word" as one of thedistinguishing elements of what is called "a civilized State. " But thisputs Germany among the barbarous savages. Three indictments andconvictions have blackened the name of Germany throughout all the world. First, her atrocious and dishonourable methods of warfare; second, thecarrying off into slavery of non-combatants, the Belgians and French, and third, the breach of the pledged word and the solemn treaties withother nations. 

But at last we know that Frederick the Great, the ancestor of theKaiser, was the author of the phrase, "the treaty is a scrap of paper. "What was once in the gristle in the ancestor is now bred in the bone ofthe Kaiser and Crown Prince. That phrase, "a scrap of paper, " holds thegerm of a thousand wars. It spells the ruin of civilization. Not toresent it by war, is for the Allies to commit spiritual suicide. 

5. The Plot of the Kaiser

All the pamphlets issued secretly to the members of the Pan-GermanLeague invariably used Rome as their illustration. We are not surprised, therefore, to find that the German leaders called attention to the factthat it took two wars at intervals of some years to make Rome a worldempire. 

In like manner, therefore, the Kaiser and his Cabinet told the Germanpeople at home and abroad that the first war, beginning in 1914, wouldestablish a Middle-Europe Empire extending from Hamburg on the North Seato Bagdad on the Persian Gulf. 

One of the pamphlets issued many years ago fixed the countries to beconquered about 1915, and distinctly mentioned Denmark, Holland, Belgiumand North France, Poland and Rumania, Hungary and Austria, Serbia andBulgaria, and the wheat granaries of Russia, with Turkey and Armenia. 

The number of people to be conquered and included after the first warwas fixed at 250, 000, 000. 

The argument states that it will take but a few years to compact thisMiddle-Europe Empire and that naturally Great Britain, Spain and Italy, to the west, with Norway and Sweden to the north, with Italy andSwitzerland to the south, and of course Greece and Egypt would, fromtime to time, as crises came, fall inevitably into Germany's hand. Berlin, as the world capital, should by 1920 be the magnet, and thelittle particles of iron, named the Balkan States, would be drawn andheld by this great German magnet in Berlin. 

The first step to be taken and the first goal to be reached concerned, of course, the English Channel, the Dutch cities on the mouth of theRhine, and the iron mines of Northern France. We know to an absolutecertainty all the details of this plan. 

For more than thirty years Germany had been organizing her army; sheknew every road, inn, bridge, factory, shop, and wholesale store inDenmark and Holland, Belgium and France. In all of the larger ones shehad German agents belonging to the Pan-German League toiling as workmenand every detail was planned out in advance. 

In 1910 General von Bissing, one of the Kaiser's closest friends, wassent to Brussels. For years he spent the summer months apparently atthe watering places near The Hague in Holland and Ostend in Belgium, preparatory to the hour when Germany would seize Belgium and he assumehis position as Governor-General, living in Brussels. 

Men nearing death tell the truth. In January of 1917 von Bissingprepared a memorandum for the direction of Belgian affairs in HisMajesty's name and according to his wish. This document contains themeditations of a dying man. The statements he makes, he says, containthe views that inspired his every act in Belgium during hisadministration. 

In his last will and testament von Bissing, in the spring of 1917, advises the German Government in Berlin that the time has come to throwoff all disguises. He says that at the beginning of the war it wasprobably good policy to deny that the Government ever intended to annexBelgium, but, he says, "now that we are victorious there is no reasonwhy we should not publish to the world the fact that we never intend togive up one foot of the Belgian sea-coast, nor one ton of the Belgiancoal, nor one acre of the French iron mines. "

He says plainly: "The annual Belgian production of 23, 000, 000 tons ofcoal has given us a monopoly on the continent which has helped tomaintain our vitality. If we do not hold Belgium, administer Belgium infuture for our interest and protect Belgium by force of arms, our tradeand industry will lose the positions they have won in Belgium andperhaps will never recover them. "

And what about Dutch cities and seaports? On page eighteen of Generalvon Bissing's last will and testament he adds:

"Our frontier, in the interest of our sea power, must be pushed forwardto the sea. " This sentence makes it perfectly plain that a little laterGermany intends to incorporate Rotterdam in her own customs union. "Belgium must be seized and held, as it now is, and as it is to-day itmust be in the future. The conquest of Belgium has simply been forcedupon us by the necessities of German expansion. "

Von Bissing, however, recognizes the difficulty of annexing Belgium andsecuring the consent of the members who shall arrange the treaty ofpeace at the conclusion of the war, and this is his decision:

"Our best method, therefore, is to avoid, during the peace negotiations, all discussion about the form of the annexation and to apply nothingbut the right of conquest. Plainly Belgium's King can never consent toabandon his sovereignty, but we can read in Machiavelli that he whodesires to take possession of a country will be compelled to remove theKing or regent, even by killing him. "

Von Bissing has torn off all masks. He himself states that he isspeaking for the Kaiser, as his most trusted friend and counsellor. Germany intends, therefore, ultimately to kill King Albert of Belgium, and this carries with it that the Kaiser and his War Staff believe theyhave the right to kill any King or President who happens to stand in thepathway of their ambition. Every lover of mankind whose heart is knittedin with the poor and the weak will understand what that editor meant theother day when he said:

"The one duty of the hour, therefore, for America, is to kill Germans, that we may keep the rest of the world from being killed. "

THE JUDAS AMONG NATIONS

II

1. The Original Plot of the Members of the Potsdam Gang

Many historic meetings, big with social disaster, are recorded inhistory. Witness the meeting of the Athenian judges for the killing ofSocrates. Witness the coming together of the priests and Judas for thepiteous tragedy of the death of Jesus. Witness that midnight meeting ofthe conspirators in Florence for the burning of Savonarola. Terriblealso the results of that meeting in the Potsdam Palace in 1896 thatculminated in the Pan-German Empire scheme. 

What began as a spark that day has ended in a world conflagration. 

In retrospect the Kaiser and his associates had many events behind themto encourage the ambition to make Berlin a world capital, Kaiser Wilhelmthe world emperor and all the other nations and races subject peoples. 

Beginning in 1860 with thirty-five millions of people and only fifteenbillions of dollars, Germany had climbed to greatness upon iron steps, heated hot by war. Never did wars yield so large a return. 

The war with Denmark had given Germany the Kiel Harbour, the Kiel Canaland a sea-coast for her ships. 

The war with Austria had given Germany the rich coal provinces ofCentral Europe. The war with France had given Germany the iron mines ofAlsace and Lorraine. 

And here for the next war were Denmark and Holland, Belgium and northernFrance--so many jewel boxes that could be looted. To the eastward werePoland with her coal mines, Rumania with her oil fields and Russia withher wheat granaries. And once Central Europe became a Middle-EuropeGerman Empire there was no reason why later on Germany should not extendher conquests to Russia on the east and England on the west, and then toNorth and South America. 

It was a great scheme. Never was prize so rich. Never could obstacles beso easily swept away. To make Berlin a world-capital and Kaiser Wilhelma world-emperor only two things were needed. 

Plainly the first thing to be done was to organize the Pan-German EmpireLeague and educate the leading men of Germany--the ship owners, bankers, merchants and manufacturers, editors, ministers, priests and universityprofessors. 

Local branch societies were organized in all the large German towns andcities. Weekly meetings were held, papers read and reports made. Slowlypeople of the middle class were included in the league. Documents marked"Secret and Confidential" were distributed, setting forth the details ofthe scheme. 

Full reports were made as to what Germany could make by seizing thefields of Denmark, the cities on the mouth of the Rhine in Belgium, thecoal and iron mines of France, Poland and Russia, and also theundeveloped resources of the Valley of the Euphrates. 

Careful statements were prepared as to the difficulties that must besurmounted, but always this lure was held out--that the poorest Germanwho then had nothing, would when Germany was victorious become alandowner, live in a mansion and drive his own automobile. Then he wouldhave Russians and Frenchmen to wait upon him, since the German was asuperman, intended for a patrician, while all other races were pigs, intended by nature to be bondsmen and plebeians. 

"The rest of the world is amassing wealth, and when the fruit is ripethen we Germans will pluck it"--this was their motto. 

Little by little the germ of world-ambition became a fever, burning inthe soul of every German at home or abroad. It took twenty years tothoroughly inculcate every individual of the German race with thisfeverish ambition, but when 1914 came every German had gone over to thePan-German scheme and was ready to die for it. 

2. The Berlin Schemers and Their Plot

After all the Germans at home and abroad understood the Pan-Germanscheme of seditious intrigue in foreign countries and the vast web wasspun and thrown out over all the cities and continents where theKaiser's representatives were living, the second thing to be done was tomake the plan clear by spreading it out like a great map. The methodused, therefore, was pictorial. 

The Department of Publicity in Berlin became experts on geography. Theybegan to issue illustrated maps so that the rudest German peasants andthe German colonists living in Milwaukee or El Paso, in Rio Janeiro orBuenos Aires, in Brussels or St. Petersburg, in Melbourne or Calcutta, could easily understand the method and the goal. 

Out of twenty maps issued in Berlin and reproduced by Andre Cheredame, no one is more important than the one marked "The Old Roman Empire. " Thesimplest German miner understood the map at a glance and realized itsmeaning for the members of the Pan-German League. Here is old Romemarked world capital. Here is Cæsar Augustus called the first worldemperor. Here is Carthage with its capital looted and Roman peasantsremaining after the victory to move into rich men's houses and estatesof North Africa. And here also were the maps of conquered Palestine, Ephesus, Athens and Corinth. To be sure the old Romans had to becomesoldiers, but, later, did not each Roman soldier live in the richgardens around Thebes, Ephesus and Corinth?

Instantly the imaginations of the German peasants and workmen kindled. The Kaiser was right. What had been in Rome must be in Berlin. The Elbemust succeed the Tiber. Berlin shall be the second world-capital. OurWilhelm shall be the second world-emperor. Germania shall be writtenstraight across Europe from Hamburg on the North Sea to Bagdad on thePersian Gulf. Germans alone shall be allowed to carry weapons, as onceonly the Roman was allowed to own a spear; only Germans shall be allowedto hold title deeds to lands, even as once only Romans could hold afield or a house in fee simple. Old Rome won by becoming a militaryState. 

Did not the people of Rome go forth as soldiers and return withtriumphal processions, with treasures of loot that took days to passalong the Appian Way, while the Romans stood cheering and the women andchildren sang and threw flowers in the path? Why should not the Germanarmy, between the reaping of the wheat in July and the threshing of thewheat in October, return from Brussels and Paris laden with treasure, while a second triumphal procession marched down Wilhelmstrasse?

The German peasants kindled at this dream. Why should the German haveto live always on bologna sausage, drink beer, eat sauerkraut and livein ugly houses when the people of Paris and London drank champagne, ateroast fowl, wore French laces and the finest English wools? It was awicked shame. Surely the German was intended for something better thansauerkraut and beer!

"Two weeks and we will be in Brussels. Three weeks and we will haveParis. Two months and we will loot London. "

This was the plan. How significant that letter, taken from the dead bodyof a German boy found in No Man's Land, near Compiègne. 

"Within three days, Liebschen, we will be in Paris. I intend to bringyou a pocketful of Paris rings and jewels, with Paris gowns and laces. "

From the body of a German boy found near Lunéville was taken this lettersaying that, with his three companions, he had picked out four Frenchfarms and left the houses standing, and that his friends and himself hadpicked out these farms as permanent homes. Later he added that Heinrichthought it would be much better for them to wait until they smashedEngland and made Canada a German colony. Then they could own, not smallFrench farms, but vast Canadian farms with a hundred tenants working forhim in the valleys around Toronto and the vineyards of Winnipeg andorchards of Hudson Bay. 

Most shrewd and cunning, the plotters of the Potsdam gang. They knew howto feed the fires of envy and avarice in the German people. Every fewweeks they placed new material in the hands of every German at home andabroad. They reminded each poor peasant and foreign colonist that he wasa superman, and that by day and by night he was to prepare for the timewhen he would become the head of all the people of the town or industrywith which he was related. Poor Germans in foreign countries dreamedtheir dreams of the time when they would be appointed by the Kaiser andForeign Minister to take charge of the village in Mexico, the mine inChile, or when they would be the tax collector in some distant province. 

We know now, from letters that have been found, that the German soldiersin France carried in their pockets a description by the German historianCurtius of the triumphal procession along the Appian Way, when theRoman conquerors came home loaded with loot. These skillful Germanplotters printed at the bottom of Curtius's description the statementthat each German soldier must look forward to a similar return fromLondon, Paris and Brussels to march through the streets of Munich andBerlin. 

What a dream was this German dream! What treasures were to be broughtinto Berlin! What marbles and bronzes of Rodin stolen from Paris! Atlast Berlin was to own beautiful paintings, for the treasures of theLouvre were to be the Kaiser's. 

Never was there such a dream dreamed by peasants who soon were to becomeprinces and kings and patricians. The German had exchanged the rye breadof 1913 for the "fog bank" of 1918; had given up German beer to grasponly empty, breaking bubbles. But it was a great dream while it lasted. In pursuance of his hope he sacrificed three million German boys, leftdead in the fields of Flanders and France. He sent home four millionGerman cripples. He filled the land with vast armies of widows andorphans. 

It could not have been otherwise. There has never been, and never willbe, but one world city--Rome; and there has never been but oneworld-emperor--Cæsar Augustus. There is to be one universal kingdom--andthat is the kingdom of God, the kingdom of love, justice, peace andgood-will. The German has been pursuing a will-o'-the-wisp. 

A world-kingdom will come, but no Kaiser will rule over that empire oflove. In that world-parliament all the races shall be represented asequals; then the earth that has long been a battle-field shall become anEden garden, where all are patriots towards the world-kingdom, andscholars towards the intellect, and self-sufficing towards the family, and obedient towards their God. 

3. German Superiority a Myth That Has Exploded

Several years before the great war began a Dutch humorist wrote a playon German megalomania. He portrayed a German schoolroom in Prussia. Thirty or forty embryonic Prussians are at the desks and a Prussianschoolmaster is in the chair. 

"Children, what is the greatest country in the world?"

All shouted vociferously, "Germany!"

"What is the greatest city in the world?"

"Berlin!"

"Who is the greatest man in the world?"

"The Kaiser!"

"Should there ever be, children, a vacancy in the Trinity, who is bestfitted to fill the position?"

"The Crown Prince!"

"Who are the chosen people of the good old German God?"

"The German people!"

Never was there a finer bit of sarcasm and yet the Germans were neverable to understand the play. The Kaiser, the War Staff, the Cabinet, down to the last wretched creature working in the stables and thesewers, reading the play, exclaimed:

"What is the man driving at? Why, of course the Germans are the greatestpeople in the world--we admit it!"

Now, during the last few years the Germans have spent untold millions inpropagating this myth of superiority, and yet the German intellect hasnever even had a second-rate position. Call the roll of all the toolsthat have redeemed men from drudgery and you will find that Germany'scontributions are hopelessly inferior to the other nations. 

The new industrial era began with the locomotive and steamship; JamesWatt invented the one and Stevenson the other. 

The new era of physical comfort began with the loom; a Frenchman namedJacquard and an Englishman named Arkwright made men warm for their workin winter. Garments within the reach of the poor man in forest andfactory, field and mine, means the cotton gin, and that gin is the giftof an American. The sewing machine changed woman's position, but theworld owes that to our own Elias Howe. 

We owe the telegraph to an English inventor and, in part, to Morse. Weowe the cable in part to Lord Kelvin and, in part, to Cyrus Field. Weowe the telephone to Bell and the wireless to Marconi. 

Holland invented the submarine, Wright the airplane, McCormick thereaper and Edison the phonograph. 

An American invented the German submarine; an American invented theGerman torpedo; an American invented the German machine-gun; an Americaninvented the Murphy button, the yellow fever antitoxin, the Dakinsolution. 

An English physician discovered the circulation of the blood, Jennergave us vaccination, Lister antiseptics, France the Pasteur serums andthe Curie radio discoveries, while a Bulgarian, Dr. Metchnikoff, discovered the enemies of the blood. 

It was from France, England and the United States that Germany stole thetypewriter, the steel building, the use of rubber, the aniline dyes, reënforced concrete bridges, air-brakes, the use of electricity. 

One of the most amazing volumes in the world is the "History of Toolsand Machinery. " We have all known for a long time that there is not onesingle German name among the eight great masters of painting that beginswith Rembrandt and includes men like Velasquez and Giotto. We have longknown that there is no German sculptor of the first class nor a Germansculptor that is within ten thousand leagues of Rodin, Michael Angelo orPhidias. We have long known that Schubert and Schumann and Rubinsteinand Haydn and Chopin were all Jews, and that three-fourths of the otherso-called German musicians were Jews whose ancestors suffered suchfrightful political disabilities in Germany and were so regularly lootedof all their property that they gave up their Hebrew names and tookGerman, just as now thousands upon thousands of Germans in thiscountry, ashamed of their names, are Americanizing their family title. 

The simple fact is that if a Jew will only write the creative music, like that of Beethoven, a German whose gift is detail will conduct theorchestra. 

The German can standardize a machine, providing an Englishman, aFrenchman or an American will first invent it. The German will gather upthe remnants and scraps and odds and ends in a clothing factory--but, oh, think of an American gentleman having to wear the coat that was cutby a tailor in Berlin or Munich! Having during ten different summerslooked at their garments, all one can say is that the German men andwomen are covered up but not clothed. 

For thirty years the Germans have paid their representatives to stand onthe corner of the street and bawl out to every passer-by: "Great is theKaiser! Great are we Germans! Let all people with cymbals, sackbut, shawms and psaltery cry aloud, saying 'Great is the Kaiser and all hispeople!'"

And now suddenly the myth has burst like a bubble. The delusion isexploded. The Kaiser has found out that it is dangerous to blow toomuch hot air into a German bladder. 

Measured around the stomach in the Hofbraus in the presence of a barrelof beer, the Prussian and the Bavarian are great; but the hat bandrequires the least material of any made in four countries. 

For the time has come to confess this simple fact that for any one greattool, or art, or contribution to science created by a German there arefour invented by either an American, an Englishman or a Frenchman. 

4. German Intrigues

The spider's web stretched out over a flower bed with a great fat spiderat the centre and the threads along which the spider runs to thrust itspoisoned sting into the enmeshed butterfly is nature's most accuratesymbol of the vast web of espionage lying over North and South Americawith secret threads that vibrated to the touch of the spider at thecentre named Berlin. 

In that web thousands of German-Americans were enmeshed. The records ofour Secret Service concerning these German enemies of the AmericanGovernment read like a book of assassinations or like a history of theblack arts. When the whole story comes to be told it will horrify theworld. 

The quality of the German-Americans that Berlin bribed is set forth inthe reminiscences of Witte when he says that the Kaiser and the ForeignDepartment paid Munsterberg of Harvard University $5, 000 a year salaryand that Munsterberg was the most successful and efficient spy that theGerman system had ever developed. 

In the long list of German agents are to be found the names ofGerman-American bankers who received secret decorations and medals fromthe German Government; of German merchants who were partners in thiscountry of firms in the Fatherland and were bribed by a ribbon and aninvitation to the Potsdam Palace; of German newspaper men who were underGerman pay, and, most amazing of all, among the papers seized in theoffice of a German Consul was found a commission appointing this Consulin an American city to the office of Governor-General of one of thegreatest States of Canada as soon as Canada became a German colony. 

Many of the threads from Berlin ran into the various cities of Mexico. AGerman head office was set up under the general direction of Zimmermannin Berlin and of von Bernstorff in Washington. Certain largeinstitutions that did business in Mexico, working in the same field, were quietly elbowed out of Mexico, and an American company, ostensiblyAmerican, but controlled by Germans, took over the business of the otherfirms under special arrangement with Mexico. Pledges were given Mexicothat as soon as Germany had reduced Canada and the United States to theposition of German colonies, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada andCalifornia should be handed back to the Mexicans. 

Millions were spent by the German Foreign Office as ordinary men spenddollars. The German spies, like Boy-Ed and von Papen, arranged to blowup American munition factories and held dinners waiting for a telephonemessage saying that the magazine had just exploded or the depot hadtaken fire or a scow had been sunk, after which they drank the health ofthe man who lighted the match. 

German agents burned up wheat elevators with hundreds of millions ofdollars' worth of wheat; they fired warehouses, blew up bridges, wreckedmunition plants, destroyed shiploads of food, dynamited the House ofParliament in Ottawa, sank the _Lusitania_ near Ireland, spread glandersamong the horses in Sweden, poisoned the food in Rumania, sank the shipsof Norway, plotted against the Argentine Republic. Their spies, dynamiters, secret agents, were in every capital and country because itwas their purpose to make Berlin a world capital, Kaiser Wilhelm theworld emperor and to Germanize the people of the whole earth. 

The web had as its centre the Potsdam Palace, but its black lines ranout into all the earth. 

5. German Burglars Loaded With Loot Are the More Easily Captured

It seems that Germany has published, for the Spaniards, a list oftreasures she has won. In the long calendar the reader finds that eightStates--Belgium, France, Poland, Rumania, Russia, Serbia, Armenia, Italy--have all been looted. 

The Germans claim they have spoiled over three hundred first classcities, several thousand secondary cities and towns; they add that theyhave destroyed seventy-three cathedrals and looted them of theirpriceless treasures of statues, paintings, stained glass, vessels ofsilver and gold. 

With brazen audacity the German pamphlet tells the Spaniards that theyhave seized so many hundred thousand watches, so many hundred thousandrings, so much treasure of diamonds and jewels, so many paintings fromrich men's houses, and the long boast ends with the statement that they"obtained nearly five billions of loot out of western Russia and haveassessed two billions more upon the farmers, villages and cities ofUkraine. "

But the boast is an idle and empty boast. It is true that no army of theAllies has crossed the German frontier to permanently hold a city. Butlet no man think that Germany has succeeded because of the richness ofher loot. There is a success that is failure. There is a victory that isdefeat. 

Macbeth killed Duncan and went to live in the palace of the dead king, but did Macbeth succeed? Was not his palace a brief halting place in hisjourney towards remorse, insanity and the day when Duncan's friends inturn slew Macbeth?

The rich judges of Athens succeeded and Socrates failed. They went hometo drink wine and feast, while Socrates went to the jail to drink a cupof poison. But who succeeded? The judges whose names are written lowdown and bespattered with dirt--or Socrates, whose name fills the skyand who has become the thinker for the world?

What if the Kaiser does boast of his successes to-day? So boastedNero--sending Paul to his rags, crusts and the dungeon preparatory tothe headman's axe. But it is Nero that lost out, and it is Paul whoreigns a crowned king. 

The chief priests celebrated their victory; at the close of the day, after they had succeeded in crucifying Jesus; but after nineteencenturies the murderers are unknown and almost forgotten, while thatyoung carpenter rules over His Empire of Love. 

To-day the Kaiser claims to have won the victory of "a superman. " Inthat he has carried murder, arson, lying, rapine, lust up to the _nth_power, let us concede his claim. Not otherwise two hundred years agothe Indian, with his scalping knife, his war-whoop and his tomahawk, was "a superman" in terms of savagery. Not otherwise the Spaniards underBloody Alva were "supermen" in terms of rack, thumbscrew and instrumentsof torture. 

But what savages once did in the little, the Kaiser and his men now doin the large. But because the Kaiser can publish a long list of wealthgained--by breaking his treaties, by murder, arson and lust--let no manthink that he is successful. 

The two Biddle brothers looted the Bank of England, but they becameoutcasts upon the face of the earth, and always the dungeon yawned forthem, just as the Kaiser and von Hindenburg never sleep at night withouta vision of an oak tree, a long bough and a hemp rope dangling at theend, for the hemp is now twisted that will one day choke to death themurderous Kaiser and his War Staff. 

Let no patriot, whether he lives in Spain, Russia or the United States, forget that ours is a world ruled by men who were defeated. 

To-day on the thrones of the world are the heroes, like Paul andDemosthenes; the martyrs who were burned with Savonarola in Florence orpoisoned with Socrates in Athens. 

To-day, the soldiers of Marathon and Marston Moor, Gettysburg and theMarne now rule the world. 

The treasure of the burglar and the brigand dissolves like snowflakes ina river. 

Long ago the Hebrew poet said: "I have seen the wicked flourish like agreen bay tree, and then I lifted up my eyes, and, behold! he was not. "And when a little time has passed all lovers of liberty and humanitywill exclaim: "During four years I have seen the Kaiser and vonHindenburg flourish as the green bay tree, and I lifted up mine eyes, and, behold! they were not. For the breath of His nostrils had slainthem. "

6. Germans Who Hide Behind the Screen

Two thousand years are a long time in terms of history. 

Many damnable tools have been invented during these twenty centuries. The rack, the thumbscrew, the tomahawk, the fagot belong among thesedevilish instruments. 

Cruelties so terrible have been devised that old scholars often feltunwilling to believe that men were so low in the scale as to have beenthe authors of these methods of fiendishness. 

In the hope, therefore, of keeping respect for man many scholarstransferred all responsibility unto devils. They called in Satan andmade him to be the father of hate and cruelty. They could not believethat Nero, Judas or Torquemada could conceive such wickedness. Theytherefore made the devil with his cloven feet and his long tail towhisper these cunning suggestions in the ear of the traitor. Thus theresponsibility for unwonted cruelty was divided between the murderer andthe devil who counselled the black crime. 

Perhaps the most damnable thing that was ever suggested by the devil intwo thousand years is this little object called the German soldier'stoken. Never did an object so small send forth cruelties so large andmanifold. 

The little disc is stamped out on thick paper for German privates andupon aluminum for the officers. At the top of this cardboard is theportrait of that awful being called by the Kaiser "our good old GermanGod. "

Look at his white hair, the long beard and the great sword in the righthand, with the suggestion that since God uses the sword the Germansoldier must cut men to pieces also. 

Beneath you see flames gushing up, suggesting to the German soldier thathe is quite right in burning the houses of France and Belgium after hehas looted them, and for flinging the dead bodies into the blazingrafters. Now read the words written beneath the face of the being theGermans call God. 

"Strike them all dead. The Day of Judgment shall ask you no questions. "

Strike dead old men and women! Dash the children's brains out againstthe stone wall! Violate young girls! Mutilate their fair bodies so thatthey will be unseemly when they are found by the husband or father. Burn, steal, kill--but remember that your Kaiser and the War Staff havepromised to stand between you and God Almighty and the Day of Judgment!Even if Jesus did say, "Woe unto them that offend against my littleones, " you must remember that your Kaiser and officers have promised youimmunity on the Day of Judgment. 

That is what is meant by the sentence on page thirty-one in the Germanhandbook of "War on Land": "That which is permissible to the Germansoldier is anything whatsoever that will help him gain his goalquickly. "

Nothing better illustrates the total collapse of manhood in the Germansthan this soldier's token. 

A coward by nature, the German is afraid to kill and steal, and so heinvented a screen behind which he could hide and named it "the soldier'stoken. "

Going into a French village the Germans collect the women and children, order them to march in advance, shoot a few to terrorize the rest, andthen, hiding behind this living screen, the Germans march forward. Inthis way they protect themselves. 

The whole history of the human race contains no chapter of atrocity likethe atrocity of the Germans. The history of the world contains no storyof cowardice so black and damnable as the cowardice of the Germans. Outof cowardice the soldier's token was born. 

And so the Kaiser and the War Staff invented this round piece ofcardboard, with the representation of God as going forth with His swordto kill men and with His flames to burn them and with the motto: "Strikethem all dead, for the Day of Judgment will ask you no questions. "

Therefore among the instruments of cruelty, called the rack, the fagot, the thumbscrew and the tomahawk, let us give the first place to theGerman soldier's token, the most damnable weapon that has come out ofhell during the last two thousand years. 

7. Must German Men Be Exterminated?

A singular revulsion of sentiment as to what must be done with theGerman army after the war, is now sweeping over the civilized world. Menwho once were pacifists, men of chivalry and kindness, men whose lifehas been devoted to philanthropy and reform, scholars and statesmen, whose very atmosphere is compassion and magnanimity towards the poor andweak, are now uttering sentiments that four years ago would have beenastounding beyond compare. These men feel that there is no longer anyroom in the world for the German. Society has organized itself againstthe rattlesnake and the yellow fever. Shepherds have entered into aconspiracy to exterminate the wolves. The Boards of Health are planningto wipe out typhoid, cholera and the Black Plague. Not otherwise, loversof their fellow man have finally become perfectly hopeless withreference to the German people. They have no more relations to thecivilization of 1918 than an orang-outang, a gorilla, a Judas, a hyena, a thumbscrew, a scalping knife in the hands of a savage. These brutesmust be cast out of society. 

Some of us, hoping against hope, after the reluctant confession of thetruth of the German atrocities, have appealed to education. We knew thatTacitus said, nearly two thousand years ago, that "the German treatswomen with cruelty, tortures his enemies, and associates kindness withweakness. " But nineteen centuries of education have not changed theGerman one whit. The mere catalogue of the crimes committed by Germanofficers and soldiers and set forth in more than twenty volumes ofproofs destroys the last vestige of hope for their future. Think of thecatalogue! Babies nailed like rats to the doors of houses! Childrenskewered on a bayonet midst the cheers of marching Germans--as if thechild were a quail, skewered on a fork! Matrons, old men and priestsslaughtered; young Italian officers with throats cut and hanging onhooks in butchers' shops; the bombing of Red Cross hospitals and nursesand the white flag; everything achieved by civilized man defiled anddestroyed--reverence for childhood and age, the sanctity of womanhood, the standards of honour, fidelity to treaties and all destroyed, not ina mood of drunkenness or a fit of rage, but on a deliberate, cold, calculated policy of German frightfulness. 

The sense of hopelessness as to civilizing the German and keeping him asan element in the new society grew out of the breakdown of education andscience in changing the German of the time of Tacitus. Plainly the timehas come to make full confession of the fact that education can changethe size but not the sort. The German in the time of Tacitus wasignorant when he took the children of his enemy and dashed their brainsout against the wall; the German of 1914 and 1918 still butcherschildren, the only difference being that the butchery is now moreefficient and better calculated, through scientific cruelty, to stirhorror and spread frightfulness. The leopard has not changed its spots. The rattlesnake is larger and has more poison in the sac; the Germanwolf has increased in size, and where once he tore the throat of twosheep, now he can rend ten lambs in half the time. In utter despair, therefore, statesmen, generals, diplomats, editors are now talking aboutthe duty of simply exterminating the German people. There will shortlybe held a meeting of surgeons in this country. A copy of the preliminarycall lies before me. The plan to be discussed is based upon the IndianaState law. That law authorizes a State Board of Surgeons to use upon theperson of confirmed criminals and hopeless idiots the new painlessmethod of sterilizing the men. These surgeons are preparing to advocatethe calling of a world conference to consider the sterilization of theten million German soldiers, and the segregation of their women, thatwhen this generation of German goes, civilized cities, states and racesmay be rid of this awful cancer that must be cut clean out of the bodyof society. 

THE BLACK SOUL OF THE HUN

III

1. German Barbarism Not Barbarism to the German

Strictly speaking, the only man who thoroughly understands the crueltyof the Germans is the German himself. No American or Englishman, noBelgian or Frenchman has the gift of telepathy that enables him to knowwhat is going on in the German mind that guides the German's hand incommitting his horrible atrocities. Now and then, in a moment when he isoff guard, an occasional German reveals the explanation, and we look in, just as John Bunyan's pilgrim saw the door into Hades opened by a littlecrack, through which he looked upon the flames. Not otherwise was itwith that German in Baltimore, who recently exposed the German mind, andfrom the German view-point explained the Germans in their hour ofbrutality. 

During a most intimate and personal conversation with a banker, thisGerman, the other day, explained his people's atrocities by saying thatwhat is barbarism and atrocities to England, France or the United Statesis not barbarism at all to the Germans. In proof of this astoundingstatement the German gave this personal incident of his boyhood. He saidthat in his gymnasium there was another boy who had something that hewanted. When the opportunity came, being the stronger, he jumped uponthe other boy, beat him up terribly and made him a cripple for life. Onreaching his home he showed his parents what he had stolen, and he waspatted on the back, praised for his might with his fists, and told thatthat was the method he was to follow in after life. 

He insisted that this sort of thing was drilled into every German boy, and for that reason it never once even occurred to him that he had donewrong. "After I became a man I settled in America, and as I came tounderstand the spirit of American civilization it grew upon me that Ihad committed a crime, and now for twenty-two years, as some atonementfor my sin, I have been supporting that crippled man and his widowedmother. "

The modern banker has become a sort of confessor, and to the banker manysins are revealed as once to the priest. Nothing is more significantthan this German confession and his philosophy of the German atrocity. In his own written letter concerning that crime of his boyhood thisGerman adds: "Had I remained in Germany no one would ever have thoughtof suggesting to me that I had done wrong, and it would never haveentered into my head that I was under any obligation to the man I hadmaimed. In the light of American civilization I understand thedifference, and I am seeking to atone for my sin, but all Germans havebeen taught, as I was taught. The Germans, therefore, in their campaignof frightfulness, are committing deeds which from the view-point ofAmerican civilization are barbarous, but from the view-point of Germansare not crimes at all. "

The significance of this frank confession of a German, his story of howAmerica had redeemed his soul out of the spirit of force and crueltyinto the spirit of kindness, humanity and justice, reveals more of thereal nature of the German beast and the Potsdam gang than a thousandvolumes on the philosophy of German atrocities. The simple fact is thatthe crimes of the Germans are abominable atrocities to us, but thatintellectually and morally the German officer and soldier simply do notknow what we mean by our horror and the wave of moral indignation thathas swept over the earth. Jesse Pomeroy used to pull canary birds apart, and tortured children to death. But the boy was deficient in the nerveof humanity. He simply stared with blank eyes when the judge and thejury condemned him. He was incapable of knowing what the excitement overthe dead body was about. On the side of compassion and humanity theGerman is, as it were, colour blind, is without musical sense, and thenerves of kindness and humanity are atrophied. The ordinary Germanprisoner when shown the bodies left behind after the flight of theGerman army simply looks blankly at the mutilated corpse and exclaims:"Well, what of it? Why not? Why shouldn't we?" and shrugs his shoulders, taking it as a matter of course. That is another reason why a greatnumber of American business men, bankers, merchants, manufacturers, scholars, statesmen, have reluctantly been forced to the conviction thatthe ten millions of German soldiers should be painlessly sterilized, that the German people (saving only the remnant who accept Jesus' ideaof compassion and kindness towards God's poor and weak) should beallowed to die out of the world. Re-read, therefore, what this Germanhas said about the teaching of his German parents and the German peoplein praise of cruelty, and how for twenty years now, redeemed by life inthe United States, he has tried to make atonement by supporting the manwhom he had crippled, and also his mother. Who shall explain to us thereason why German barbarism is not barbarism to the Germans? Why, thisGerman shall explain it, through his personal experience as a criminal. But the day will come when the Potsdam gang and ten million Germansoldiers will stand before the judgment seat of God. And what shall bethe verdict then pronounced? You will find it in the New Testament:"'Out of thine own mouth will I judge thee, ' thou wicked and cruelGerman!"

2. The German "Science of Lying"

For the first time in history a nation has organized lying into ascience and taught deceit as an art. 

At the very time when the diplomats of the world have refused any formof secrecy and insist upon publishing all international treaties anddoing everything in the open, Germany has organized lying into anational science. Even Maximilian Harden, editor of _Zukunft_, openlyacknowledges this in one of his editorials reproduced in the papers ofDenmark and Holland. 

Harden comes right out in the open. He tells the German people that atthe beginning of the war it was necessary to say to the world thatGermany was fighting a defensive war, that her back was against thewall, that those wicked enemies named England and France, Russia andBelgium were leaping upon her like wolves. 

Of course, says Harden, at first that was good diplomacy, but now thatwe are successful, "Why say this any longer? Let the Kaiser and hisChancellor tell the world plainly that we decided upon this wartwenty-five years ago; that during all of these years we were preparingcannons and shells; that we drilled ten million men against 'Der Tag';that we wanted this war, that we planned this war, that we forced thiswar and that we are proud of it. "

With one stroke Harden has torn off the mask. He exhibits the Kaiser asthe prince of liars. If his words mean anything, they mean that what haslong been surmised is absolutely true, namely, that Germany wished someone would kill the Austrian Prince and Princess so as to start the war, for which Berlin had prepared everything, down to the last buckle on theharness of the horses. 

General von Bissing is not less open. Dying men are not apt to telllies. When he saw that the end was coming the Governor-General ofBelgium prepared what he called his "last will and testament. "

As a close and intimate friend of the Kaiser, he left a letter with hiswill asking the German Government carefully to consider his wishes. Hesays plainly that all of the statements that Berlin never intended toannex Belgium were pure camouflage. He urges the Berlin office to flatlydeclare its purpose never to give up a foot of the Belgian coast nor anacre of the conquered territory of north France and Belgium. 

"It is of no consequence, " he says, "that we have given a solemn pledgenot to annex Belgium. Why not tell the world that we will have failed inthe one thing for which we set out if we evacuate Belgium? We needBelgium's coast line for our shipping. "

He adds that Germany has used twenty-three million tons of Belgian coaland has taken as much more iron ore out of France's basin in Briey. "Wecannot live and compete with France and England if we give up the coaland iron mines that we have conquered and the harbours that we havewon. "

Having affirmed, therefore, that the German Government lied at thebeginning in claiming that they entered Belgium fighting a defensivewarfare, General von Bissing cast about for some one behind whom he canhide as a screen and who can be used as an authority for lying. He findshis guide and leader in "The Prince, " written by Machiavelli. That bookhas often been called the treatise on the art of lying. Never was suchcunning exhibited. Never was the father of lies invoked with such skillas by the German leaders. In their sight truth is contemptible, kindness is weakness, honour is a figment. 

But the individual, the city, or the empire that builds its life on liesbuilds its house on sand. Soon the rains will descend and the floodscome, the winds will blow, and the house will fall, and great will bethe fall of it. 

The German is like a thirsty man who tries to quench his thirst bydrinking scalding water. He is like a hungry man who tries to satisfyhis appetite by eating red-hot coals. 

3. The Malignity of the German Spies

Disturbed by many events in their city, the Secret Service men guardvery carefully the speakers for the Liberty Loan, the Red Cross or theY. M. C. A. Hut work. Fearing lest some German agent might injure thegood name of their town, the Secret Service men of a certain communityrecently told the following incident, merely as a warning to all publicspeakers who might, by their words, arouse the enmity of half-balancedGerman fanatics. Because it was intended to put us all upon our guard, and because no interest could possibly be injured, but many persons bebenefited, the incident is here set forth in detail. The speaker was ayoung lawyer, of position, influence and fine education, who was servinghis country during the period of the war. 

"One morning I received my assignment through a sealed envelope. Experience told me that I was to take up the work of some other SecretService man and complete the task. Of course, one Secret Service mandoes not know who else is in the service. Since the war began we go bynumbers, rather than by our names. When I opened my envelope I foundthese directions: 'Go to No. ---- ----. Wait until there is no customerin the tobacco store. Then put down on the counter two ten-cent pieces, and say to the woman, "I want that package of green leaf tobacco. " Whenyou have left the store, open the package, and you will find fulldirections therein. ' I followed the instructions strictly, and out onthe street I opened the package, and found a large key and a small one, with these words written: 'Go to No. So-and-so (mentioning a third-classlittle apartment house in one of the worst districts in the city). Thelarge key will open room No. 14. The small key will open a littlewriting table in the room. In the drawer of that table you will findfull directions. '

"I soon found the apartment house, climbed to the second floor, found mylarge key turning in the lock, and the small key opened the drawer inthe desk. In that drawer I found these words: 'The man we want is in theadjoining room. He will come in about seven o'clock, but he may not comeuntil eleven or twelve. It is important that we have his testimony. Don't wound him seriously or kill him. You will find a hole boredthrough the door between your room and his. That hole is filled withputty, but underneath the putty is wax. Warm the wire in the drawer inthe gas jet and melt the wax. '

"I waited until eleven o'clock for the man to come in. For a while hesat on the bed, with his back towards me. He was reading. Finally helifted his pillow to shake it up, and I caught sight of a big revolverunder the pillow. For several reasons I decided to do nothing until hehad fallen asleep. I kept my ear glued to that little hole for one hourafter he turned out his light. When he was sleeping soundly I went intothe hall, with my skeleton key turned the lock in the door, and thenwith my lantern in the left hand and my revolver in the right made onebound into the room, struck my light and my revolver into his face underthe light and shouted: 'Hands up!' Within three minutes I had himhandcuffed and within ten had him bound. In that room, when the policecame at my call, we found enough chemicals and powerful explosives tohave blown up the entire block. In his satchel were found incriminatingletters, secret documents, and, with their help, we soon landed theentire crowd. All have now been taken care of. Their flames were stampedout before they were kindled. " That one incident was only one of aseries of closely-related dramatic events. Outwardly, life in that cityis very safe, simple and straightforward, but as to the forces of evil, the anarchists, the I. W. W. 's and German plotters the patriot can onlysay that but for the Secret Service and the police and the Department ofJustice, society could not go on for one single month. 

4. The Cancer in the Body-Politic of Germany

To-day, physicians and surgeons count the cancer man's deadliest enemy. Every year this baffling disease takes large and larger toll of humanlife. From time to time experts come together to plan its limitation, but meanwhile the terrible disease increases. Addressing a company ofexperts recently, a great physician exclaimed: "Even if we can stop itsgrowth by radium, it still remains for us to get rid of the growthitself. There seems to be no way to lift the evil cells out save throughthe knife, after which nature must heal the wound. Science knows noother way. " Plainly, no magic can be invoked. No miracle assists thesurgeon. His one recourse is to the knife, and after that the healingforces of nature. 

Let us confess that the knife has a large place in the extermination ofsocial diseases. Militarism is a cancer on the German body-politic, justas slavery was once a cancer fastened on the fair body of the greatSouth. That disease had fastened itself upon the South many years beforethe Civil War. Like a cancer, it spread its roots throughout the wholesocial and economic structure of the Southern States. It poisoned trade. Its virus was in the body of law. It destroyed kindness and sympathy forthe weak. Slavery debased the poor white working-man. It made the whitefathers of mulatto children so cruel that they sold their own flesh andblood. Overseers became brutes. Slave drivers stood up and bid upontheir own children in the auction markets. Slowly the disease spread. Men became alarmed. They tried everything excepting the knife held inthe hand of war surgeons. Clay recognized the cancer in the bodypolitic. He proposed compromise as a poultice. Garrison and Phillipsproposed the amputation of the diseased limb. John Brown tried to putsulphuric acid upon the sore spots and eat it out through the flames ofinsurrection. Lincoln knew that it was a case of life or death. TheRepublic could not endure half slave and half free. All measures failed. Finally the god of war went forth and lifted a knife heated red hot andcut the foul cancer out of the body and saved the fair South. When manyyears had passed nature healed the wound and saved the life of theRepublic. 

Germany, Austria and Turkey to-day are patients in a world hospital. Itis plain that they are stricken with death. The foul cancer ofmilitarism has fastened itself upon Germany. The cancer of autocracy iseating into the vitals of Austria. The cancer of polygamy is enmeshed inthe life of Turkey. Of late the disease has been spreading. Now thesesurgeons, named Foch, Haig and Pershing, have been anointed by theointment of war black and sulphurous, and, lifting their scalpel, thesemen have been ordained to cut out the foul growth from the body-politicof Germany. Perchance there is still enough vital force left therein toheal the wound after the disease has been removed. Meanwhile, the sickman of Turkey struggles. The patient hates the knife. The diseased bodywill not have the only instrument that holds possible cure, and yet, despite all his struggle, the disease must come out. Slowly the surgicalprocess goes on. One root at Verdun was cut, and now another is beingsundered in the West. Much blood flows, but the blood is black and foul. Every cell in the German body-politic seems to be diseased. Medicinesmust be found. The stimulants of sound ethics and morals must beinvoked--after that it is a question of the recuperative forces ofintellect and conscience in the German people. These forces alone canheal the wound left after the foul cancer has been cut away. To-day, menwith a large mind, blessed with magnanimity, kindness and good-will muststay their hearts upon history, that shows us that in the past in ourown country slavery was a cancer cut out by the surgeons of war, andthat after a long time the great South recovered its health, its beautyand its usefulness. 

5. Polygamy and the Collapse of the Family in Germany

The unexpected influences of this war upon Germany herself is a strikingconsideration. Few men anticipated the far-off results of the Kaiser'salliance with the Sultan and his polygamous philosophy. During the pasttwo years the German newspapers, magazines and debates in the Reichstaghave been filled with startling suggestions concerning the family. The_Berliner Lokalanzeiger_, on March 7, 1916, published a statement urgingthat "every girl should be given the right on reaching twenty-fiveyears to have one child born out of wedlock, for which she shouldreceive from the state an annual allowance. "

Dr. Krohne, in his address before the House, says: "The decline of thebirth rate in Germany has proceeded three times as fast as in thepreceding twenty-five years. No civilized nation has hithertoexperienced so large a decline in so short a time. Our annual number ofbirths falls already to-day by 560, 000 below what we had a right toexpect. We should have to-day 2, 500, 000 more inhabitants than we have. "Commenting thereupon, the _Berliner Lokalanzeiger_ demands that"illegitimate children should be put socially and morally on a levelwith the legitimate. "

When, therefore, the Kaiser cast about for an alliance with some man whocould be his bosom friend and could love what he loves, the Kaiser chosethe Sultan with his polygamy and the Moslem teaching with its harem. NoBritish or French officer, therefore, was surprised when documents likethe following began to be found on the dead bodies of young Germanofficers. This document is a verbatim and absolutely accurate copy ofone of the many now deposited in the various departments of Justice andthe War Departments in Havre and Paris:

"Soldiers, a danger assails the Fatherland by reason of its dwindlingbirth rate. The cradles of Germany are empty to-day; it is your duty tosee that they are filled. You bachelors, when your leave comes, marry atonce the girl of your choice. Make her your wife without delay. TheFatherland needs healthy children. You married men and your wives shouldput jealousy from your minds and consider whether you have not also aduty to the Fatherland. You should consider whether you may nothonourably contract an alliance with one of the million of bachelorwomen. See if your wife will not sanction the relation. Remember, all ofyou, the empty cradles of Germany must be filled. 

"Your name has been given us as a capable man, and you are herewithrequested to take on this office of honour, and to do your duty in aproper German way. It must here be pointed out that your wife or fiancéewill not be able to claim a divorce. It is, in fact, hoped that thewomen will bear this discomfort heroically for the sake of the war. Youwill be given the district of ----. Should you not feel capable ofcarrying on the task allotted to you, you will be given three days onwhich to name some one in your place. On the other hand, if you areprepared to take on a second district as well you will become'drekoffizier' and receive a pension. An exhibition of photographs ofwomen and maidens in the district allotted to you is to be seen at theoffice of ----. You are requested to bring this letter with you. "

This is an amazing document. Plainly the German family has broken down. But no household can be built on free love in 1918, just as no stonebuilding can be erected on hay, stubble or sand. The German family hasgone, and German society is tottering towards its final ruin. 

6. The Red-Hot Swords in Sister Julie's Eyes

The history of heroism holds nothing finer than the story of SisterJulie, decorated by the French Government with the Cross of the Legionof Honour. She lived in the little village of Gerbéviller, now called"Gerbéviller the Martyred. " On August 27th the French army broke theline of the German Crown Prince and compelled the Huns' retreat. GeneralClauss was ordered to go northeast and dig in on the top of the ridgesome twelve miles north of Gerbéviller. The Germans reached the villageat nine o'clock in the morning, and by half-past twelve they had lootedall the houses and were ready to burn the doomed city. The incendiarywagons were filled with the firebrands stamped 1912. Beginning at thesouthern end of the village, the German officers and soldiers lootedevery house, shop, store and public building, and then set fire to thetown. At last they came to the extreme northern end, where a few housesand the little hospital over which Sister Julie had charge, were stillstanding. 

About noon a German colonel with the blazing firebrand in his right handstood in front of Sister Julie's house. It has been said that there areflaming swords in the eyes of every good woman. In that terrible hourthe face of Sister Julie proved the proverb. She told the German officerthat these few houses that were left were filled with wounded Frenchsoldiers, with here and there a wounded German. The Hun answered thathis men would remove the Germans who were wounded, but that thebuildings must be fired. Behind him were several hundred buildingsblazing like one fiery furnace. Sister Julie stood squarely across thepath of the Hun. "While I live you shall not enter. You shall not killthese dying men. I swear it by this crucifix! Your hands are already redwith blood. God dwells within this house. Look at this figure of Jesus, who said, 'Woe unto him that offends against one of my little ones. These shall go away into everlasting hell. ' I myself will bear witnessagainst you. You have murdered our fifteen old men. All their lives longthese old men did us good and not evil. Look at the little girls youhave slain. God Himself will strike you dead. " General Clauss stooddumb. He was embarrassed beyond all words. Fear also got hold upon him. He turned and disappeared into a group of his soldiers. Two or threeminutes passed by. A German colonel came to Sister Julie. He told herthat the houses used for wounded soldiers would be spared by GeneralClauss provided Sister Julie would agree to continue her ministrationsto the wounded Germans lying in her hospital. As General Clauss alreadyknew that this had already been done, and would be, the Germans marchedaway, leaving the hospital buildings uninjured. It was a victory of thesoul of a noble woman. 

One morning last summer Sister Julie showed her decorations. Her facewas kind, gentle and motherly. Her atmosphere was peace and serenity. She seemed a tower of strength. It must have been easy for dying Frenchboys in those rooms to have identified Sister Julie with Mary theMother, who saw her son dying on the cross. Later on we met an agedwoman of martyred Gerbéviller. She had been nursing in the hospital andhad stood behind Sister Julie when she forbade General Clauss to lightthe firebrands. "What did Sister Julie say?" we asked the old woman. "Oh, sir, I do not know, and yet I do know. She told them that she wouldask God to strike them dead. In that moment I was afraid of her. Sheseemed to me more to be feared than General Clauss and all his wickedarmy. I can tell you what our good priest says about Sister Julie. " "Andwhat is that?" The old woman could not quote the verse accurately, butfrom what she said we were soon guided to a chapter in the old Bible, and there was the verse that described Sister Julie, with arms upliftedat the door of her hospital and denying access to General Clauss. Theverse was this: "And lo! an angel with a flaming sword stood at the gateand kept the garden. "

7. The Hidden Dynamite; the Hun's Destruction of Cathedrals

In one group of ruined cellars that was once a splendid French city, there is a beautiful building standing. It is rich with the art andarchitecture of the sixteenth century. The lines are most graceful andthe structure is the fulfillment of Keats' line: "A thing of beauty is ajoy forever. " Such a building belongs not to the French nation, but tothe whole human race. An architect like the man who planned this noblebuilding is born only once in a thousand years. Every visitor to thatruined town asks himself this question: "Why did the Germans allow thisbuilding to remain?" An incident of the story of Bapaume throws a floodof light upon the problem. 

One year ago, when the Germans were retreating from Bapaume, they lootedevery house, burned or dynamited every building save the Hôtel de Ville. That city hall the Germans left standing in all its majesty and beauty. In front of the building they placed a placard containing in substancethe statement that they left this building as a monument to Germany'slove of art and architecture. 

Secretly, however, in the cellar of this noble building the Germansburied several tons of dynamite. To this dynamite they attached aseven-day clock. They set the seven-day clock to explode at eleveno'clock one week after the Germans had retreated. These beasts workedout the theory that the largest possible number of British and Frenchofficers and public men would be inspecting the building at that hour ofthe day. 

The plot was successful. Their devilish cunning was rewarded and theirhate glutted. The clock struck the detonator, the dynamite exploded, blew the building and the visitors into atoms. Standing in the ruinedpublic square, one sees nothing but that great shell pit where the earthopened up its mouth and swallowed a monument builded to beauty andgrandeur. This other building, therefore, that stands in the city fiftymiles to the south of Bapaume is there for the sole reason that theseven-day clock failed to explode the dynamite--not because of any loveof architecture that possessed the Germans. It is there to tell us thatsome part of the mechanism of death failed to connect. 

In analyzing the German mind nothing is more certain than the fact thatthey lack a fine sense of humour and are often quite devoid ofimagination. 

As for sculpture, nothing can be more hideous than the statues of thefifteen Prussian kings that do not decorate, but simply vulgarize, theavenue leading towards Magdeburg. The vast broad statue of Hindenburg, to which the Germans come to drive nails and scratch their names in leadpencils, reminds one of the occasional public buildings in this countrydefaced by thoughtless and vulgar boys. Nor is there anything in theworld as ugly as the German sculptor's statue of the present Kaiser outat Potsdam Palace, unless it be the statue of an Indian in front of atobacco store down in Smithville, Indian Territory, though even this isdoubtful. It hardly seems possible that one earth only 7, 000 miles indiameter could hold two statues as ugly as that of the Kaiser!

It is this singular lack of imagination and failure to understand thebeautiful that explains the systematic destruction by the German army ofthe glorious cathedrals, the fourteenth century churches, libraries, châteaux and hôtels des villes that were the glory and beauty of France. 

"If we cannot have these vineyards and orchards, " said the Germans, "Frenchmen shall not have them. "

So they turned the land into a desert. Not otherwise the German seems tofeel that if he cannot build structures as beautiful as these gloriousbuildings in France that he will not leave one of them standing. 

Next to the Parthenon in Athens and St. Peter's in Rome, perhaps theworld's best loved and most admired building was the Cathedral ofRheims. There Joan of Arc crowned Charles IX; there for centuries thenoblest men of France had gone to receive their offices and theirhonours. A building that belonged to the world. What treasures of beautyfor the whole human race in the thousand and more statues in thecathedral! How priceless the twelfth-century stained glass! Whatpaintings which have come down from the masters of Italy! Whoevervisited the library and the Cardinal's palace without exclaiming: "Whatbeautiful missals! What illuminated manuscripts?"

Fully conscious of the fact that they were impotent to produce suchtreasures the Germans, unable to get closer to the cathedral than fourmiles, determined to destroy them. Day after day they bombed the noblecathedral. Gone now, too, the great stone roof! Fallen the flyingbuttresses, ruined the chapels. Perished all the tapestries, the rugsand the laces. Water stands in puddles on the floor. The cathedral is ablackened shell. 

The victim of grievous ingratitude, King Lear, was turned out into thesnow and hail by his wicked daughters; and the white-haired old kingwandered through the blackness of the night beneath the falling hail. And, lo! the Cathedral of Rheims is a King Lear in architecture--broken, wounded, exposed to the hails of the autumn and the snow of the winter, through the coarseness and vandalism of the Germans. 

The German Foreign Minister put it all in one word: "Let the neutralscease their everlasting chatter about the destruction of RheimsCathedral. All the paintings, statues and cathedrals in the world arenot so much as one straw to the Germans over against the gaining of ourgoal and the conquest of their land. "

Never was a truer word spoken. The German lacks the imagination and thegift of the love of the beautiful. He would prefer one bologna sausagefactory and one brewery to the Parthenon, with St. Peter's and RheimsCathedral thrown in. 

8. The German Sniper Who Hid Behind the Crucifix

For hundreds of years the French peasants have loved the crucifix. Manya beautiful woman carries a little gold cross with the figure of Jesusfastened thereto, and from time to time draws it out to press thecrucifix to her lips. Even in the harvest fields and beside the road, travellers find the carved figure of the Saviour lifted up to draw poor, ignorant and sinful men to His own level. 

One of the most glorious pieces of carving in France was wrought inwalnut by a great sculptor and lifted up on a tree in the midst of anestate, where the peasants, resting from their work, could refresh theirsouls by love and faith and prayer. 

One day last summer, during the Teuton advance, a German officer stoodbeneath that divine figure. Mentally he marked the place. That nightwhen the darkness fell a company of German officers returned to thatspot. One of them climbed up on the tree. He found that the carvedfigure of Jesus was life size. 

With the end of a rope a little platform was drawn up level with thefoot of the crucifix. Two ropes were fastened to the outstretched armsof the Saviour. Another rope was fastened around the neck of Jesus, until the platform was made safe. Then a German sniper with his gunclimbed up on the platform. He laid his rifle upon the shoulders of theDivine Figure, hiding his body behind that of Jesus. The German officermust have chuckled with satisfaction, for he knew that he had found ascreen behind which a murderer might hide, and the German villain wasquite right in his psychology. 

It was true that the French soldiers loved that beautiful figure. Tothem the crucifix was sacred. So beautiful were their ideals, so loftytheir spirit, so pure and high their imagination, that they wereincapable of conceiving that a German could use the sacred crucifix as ascreen from which to send forth his murderous hail. 

The green boughs of that tree hid the little puff of smoke. From time totime a French soldier would fall dead with a hole through his forehead. Once a French officer threw up his hands while the blood streamed fromhis mouth and he pitched forward dead. 

At last the French soldiers understood. There was a sniper behindChrist's cross. The French could have turned their cannon against thattree, but instead they simply kept below the trench until the nightfell. Then in the darkness some French boys took their lives in theirhands and crawled on hands and knees across No Man's Land. Lying ontheir backs they cut the wires above their heads. 

By some strange providence they dropped safely into the German trenchand crawled ten yards beyond. Then they climbed into the tree, removedthat glorious crucifix with the carved figure, brought it back insafety and at daybreak turned their cannon on the tree and blew theplatform to pieces. 

Foul Huns had made a screen of that sacred figure, but the French werenot willing to injure their ideals by shooting the crucifix to pieces. 

To-day all the world despises the Germans. Nothing is sacred to them. Their souls are dead within them and when the soul dies, everythingdies. 

The German's body may live on for twenty years, but you might as wellpronounce the funeral address to-day, for the soul of Germany is dead. Nothing but a physical fighting machine now remains. 

Meanwhile, France lives. Never were her ideals so lofty and pure. Thatis why the world loves France. She has kept faith with her ideals. 

9. The Ruined Studio

I have in my possession several photographs of a ruined studio. Sometwenty or thirty Germans dashed into a little French village one day, and demanded at the point of their automatic pistols the surrender bythe women of their rings, jewelry, money and their varied treasure. Atthe edge of the village was a simple little summer-house, in which oneof the French artists had his studio. He had been in that valley forthree months, sketching, and working very hard. Knowing that they hadbut a little time in which to do their work as vandals, the Huns startedto ruin the studio. With big knives they cut the fine canvases intoruins. They knocked down the marbles, and the bronzes; the little bustfrom the hand of Rodin was smashed with a hammer. The bronze broughtfrom Rome was pounded until the face was ruined. One blow of the hammersmashed the Chinese pottery, another broke the plates and the porcelaininto fragments. Then every corner of the room was defiled, and the pigsfled from their filthy stye. Across one of the canvases the Germanofficer wrote the words, "This is my trademark. " And every other part ofthe canvas was cut to ribbons with his knife. No more convincingevidence of the real German character can possibly be found than thesephotographs of the interior of that ruined studio. 

Here we have the reason why the Kaiser himself, who knew the Germanthrough and through, called his people Huns. Long ago the first Hunsentered Italy. They found a city of marble, ivory, and silver. They leftit a heap and a ruin. They had no understanding of a palace; they didnot know what a picture meant, or a marble; they were irritated by thesuperiority of the Roman. What they could not understand they determinedto destroy. That is one of the reasons why all the marbles and bronzesthat we have in Italy are marred and injured. The head of Jupiter iscracked; the Venus di Milo has no arms; Aphrodite has been repaired withplaster; Apollo has lost a part of his neck and one leg. From time totime an old marble is dug up in a field, where some ploughman haschanced upon the treasure. Owners hid their beautiful statues, ivoriesand bronzes, to save them from the vandals. Unfortunately, the modernHuns rushed into the French towns, riding in automobiles, and sculptorsand painters had no time to hide their treasures. The great cathedralscould not be hidden. The Kaiser in one of his recent statements boastedthat he had destroyed seventy-three cathedrals in Belgium and France. Itis all too true. From the beginning, the Cathedral of Rheims, dear tothe whole world, and glorious through the associations of Jeanne d'Arc, was doomed, because the Germans, having no treasure of their own, andincapable of producing such a cathedral, determined that France shouldnot have that treasure. The other day, in Kentucky, a negro jockey camein at the tail end of a race, ten rods behind his rival. That night, thenegro bought a pint of whiskey, and determined to have vengeance, so hewent out at midnight, and cut the hamstrings of the beautiful horse thathad defeated his own beast. Now that is precisely the spirit thatanimated the German War Staff and the men that have devastated Franceand Belgium, and every man who has witnessed these German crimes withhis own eyes will never be the same person again. His whole attitudetowards the Hun is an attitude of horror and revulsion. A certain nobleanger burns within him, as burned that noble passion in Dante againstthose criminals who spoiled Florence of her treasures. 

10. Was This Murder Justified?

One raw, December day, in 1914, an American gentleman, widely known astraveller and correspondent, was in a hospital in London, recoveringfrom his wound, received in Belgium. He was startled by the appearanceof an old Belgian priest, and a young Belgian woman. The American authorwas travelling in Belgium at the time of the German invasion. Quiteunexpectedly he was caught behind the lines, near Louvain. Having heardhis statement, the German officer recognized its truthfulness andsincerity, and insisted that this American scholar should be his guestat the Belgian château of which he had just taken possession. The Germanhad already shot the Belgian owner, and one or two of the servants, whodefended their master. To the horror and righteous anger of theAmerican, the German officer took his place at the head of the table, waved the American to his seat, and ordered the young Belgian woman toperform her duties as hostess. In that tense moment, it was a matter oflife and death to disobey. That German officer had his way, not onlywith the young Belgian wife, half dazed, half crazed, wholly broken inspirit, but with the American whom he sent forward to Brussels. 

Plunged into the midst of many duties in connection with Americans andrefugees who had to be gotten out of Belgium into England, this Americanauthor had to put aside temporarily any plan for the release of thatyoung Belgian woman held in bondage. Later, when he was wounded, theAmerican crossed to London for medical help. When the old Belgian priestand that young woman stood at the foot of his bed in the hospital inLondon, all the events of that terrible hour in the dining-room of theBelgian château returned, and once more he lived through that frightfulscene. The purpose of the visit soon became evident. The old Belgianpriest stated the problem. He began by saying that God alone could takehuman life since God alone could give it. He urged that the sorrow ofthe young woman's present was as nothing in comparison to the loss ofher soul should she be guilty of infanticide. It was the plea of a manwho lived for the old ideals. His white hair, his gentle face, his puredisinterested spirit lent weight to his words. Then came the statementof the young Belgian woman. She told the American author of the dreadfuldays and weeks that followed after his departure, that every conceivableagony was wrought upon her, and that now within a few months, she musthave a child by that wicked German officer. She cried out that the verybabe would be unclean, that it would be born a monster, that it was asif she was bringing into the world an evil thing, doomed in advance todirest hell. That every day and every hour she felt that poison wasrunning through her veins. She turned upon the old priest, saying, "Youinsist that God alone gives life! Nay, no, no, no! It was a German devilthat gave me this life that now throbs within my body! And every momentI feel that that life is pollution. German blood is poisoned blood. German blood is like putrefaction and decay, soiling my innermost life. "The young woman wept, prayed, plead, and finally in her desperationcried out, "Then I decide for myself! The responsibility is mine. Ialone will bear it. " And out of the hospital she swept with the dignityand beauty of the Lady of Sorrows. 

A year later, in Paris, the French judge and court cleared the younggirl who choked to death with a string the babe of the German officerwho had attacked her. But since that time, all France and Belgium andthe lands where there are refugees are discussing the question--Wheredoes the right lie? Has the French mother, cruelly wounded, no right?And this foul thing forced upon her a superior right? Which path for thebewildered girl leads to peace? Where does the Lord of Right stand? Whatchance has a babe born of a beast, abhorred and despised, when it comesinto the world? The women of the world alone can answer this question. 

IN FRANCE THE IMMORTAL!

IV

1. The Glory of the French Soldier's Heroism

As much as the German atrocities have done to destroy our confidence inthe divine origin of the human soul, the French soldiers have done tovindicate the majesty and beauty of a soul made in the image of God. 

I have seen French boys that were so simple, brave and modest in theircourage, so beautiful in their spirit, as to make one feel that theywere young gods and not men. One day, into one of the camps, came alawyer from Paris. He brought the news of the revival of the LatinQuarter. For nearly three years a shop near the Beaux Arts had beenclosed. During all this time the French soldier had been at the front. When the first call came on that August day he put up the woodenshutters, turned the key in the lock, and marched away to the trenches. 

Said the lawyer: "I come from your cousin. The Americans are here inParis. Your cousin says that if you will give me the keys and authorizeher to open the shop she will take your place. She can recover yourbusiness, and perhaps have a little store of money for you when you haveyour 'permission' or come home to rest. She tells me that she is yoursole relative. " The soldier shook his head, saying: "I never expect tocome home. I do not want to come home. France can be freed only by menwho are ready to die for her. I do not know where the key is. I do notknow what goods are in the shop. For three years I have had no thoughtof it. I am too busy to make money. There are other things forme--fighting, and perhaps dying. Tell my cousin that she can have theshop. " Then the soldier saluted and started back towards his trench. "Wait! Wait!" cried the attorney. Then he stooped down, wrote hurriedlyupon his knee, a little paper in which the soldier authorized his cousinto carry on the business, in his name. Scrawling his name to thedocument, the soldier ran towards the place where his heart was--theplace of peril, heroism and self-sacrifice. 

This was typical of the thousands of soldiers at the front, for Frenchsoldiers suffer that the children may never have to wade through thisblood and muck. The foul creature that has bathed the world in bloodmust be slain forever. With the full consent of the intellect, of theheart and the conscience, these glorious French boys have giventhemselves to God, to freedom, and to France. 

2. Why the Hun Cannot Defeat the Frenchman

One morning in a little restaurant in Paris I was talking with a Britisharmy-captain. The young soldier was a typical Englishman, quiet, reserved, but plainly a little excited. He had just been promoted to hiscaptaincy and had received one week's "permission" for a rest in Paris. We had both come down from near Messines Ridge. 

"Of course, " said the English captain, "the French are the greatestsoldiers in the world. "

"Why do you say that?" I answered. "What could be more wonderful thanthe heroism, the endurance of the British at Vimy Ridge? They seem to memore like young gods than men. "

To which the captain answered: "But you must remember that England hasnever been invaded. Look at my company! Their equipment is right fromhelmet to shoe, so perfectly drilled are they that the swing of theirright legs is like the swing of one pendulum. I will put my Britishcompany against the world. Still I must confess this, that, so far as Iknow, no English division of fifteen thousand men ever came home atnight with more than five thousand prisoners. 

"But look at the French boys at Verdun! As for clothes, one had ahelmet, another a hat, or a cap, or was bareheaded. One had redtrousers, one had gray trousers and one had fought until he had onlyrags left. When they got within ten rods of the German trench they wereso anxious to reach the Boche that they forgot to shoot and lifted uptheir big bayonets, while they shouted, 'For God and France!'

"That night when that French division came back ten thousand strong theybrought more than ten thousand German prisoners with them to spend thenight inside of barbed wire fences. 

"The reason is this: These Frenchmen fought for home and fireside. Theyfought against an invader who had murdered their daughters and mothers. The Huns will never defeat France. Before that could be done, " exclaimedthe English captain, "there would not be a man left in France to explainthe reason for his defeat. "

3. "I Am Only His Wife"

Human life holds many wonderful hours. Love, marriage, suffering, trouble, are crises full of romance and destiny, but I question whetherany man ever passed through an experience more thrilling than the hourin which he stands at the Charing Cross or Waterloo Station in London orin the great station in Paris and watches the hospital trains come in, loaded with wounded soldiers brought in after a great battle. 

Often fifty thousand men and women line the streets for blocks, waitingfor the trains. Slowly the wounded boys are lifted from the car to thecot. Slowly the cot is carried to the ambulance. The nurses speak onlyin whispers. The surgeons lift the hand directing them. You can hear thewings of the Angel of Death rustling in the air. 

When the automobile carrying two wounded boys moves down the street, themen and women all uncover while you hear whispered words, "God blessyou!" from some father or mother who see their own son in that boy. 

Now and then some young girl with streaming eyes timidly drops a flowerinto the front of the ambulance--pansies for remembrance and love--upona boy whom she does not know, while she thinks of a boy whom she knowsand loves who is somewhere in the trenches of France. 

One morning a young nurse in the hospital in Paris received a telegram. It was from a young soldier, saying: "My pal has been grievouslywounded. He is on the train that will land this afternoon. He has ayoung wife and a little child. You will find them at such and such astreet. I do not know whether he will live to reach Paris. Can you seethat they are at the station to meet him? That was his last whisperedrequest to me. "

That afternoon at five o'clock, with her face pressed between the ironbars, a young French woman, with a little boy in her arms, was lookingdown the long platform. Many, many cots passed by, and still he did notcome. At last she saw the nurse. The young wife did not know that hersoldier husband had died while they lifted him out of the car. 

The young nurse said that she never had undertaken a harder task thanthat of lifting the boy in her own arms and leading the French girl tothat cot, that she might know that henceforth she must look with alteredeyes upon an altered world. A few minutes passed by and then a miracleof hope had happened. 

"I saw her, " said the nurse, "with one hand upon his hair and the otherstretched upward as she exclaimed: 'I am only his wife, France is hismother! I am only his wife, France is his mother! I give him to France, the mother that reared him!'"

4. A Soldier's Funeral in Paris

The two boys were incredibly happy. Two mornings before they had landedin Paris. What a reception they had had in the soldiers' club from thesplendid French women! How good the hot bath had seemed! Clean linen, afresh shave, a good breakfast, a soft cot, plenty of blankets, twenty-four hours' sleep, and they had wakened up new men. The firstmorning they walked along the streets, looking into the shop windows; inthe afternoon one of the ladies took them to a moving picture show, andnow on the second day here they were, at a little table before the caféin one of the best restaurants in the Latin Quarter, with good red wineand black coffee, and plenty of cigarettes, and not even the boom ofcannon to disturb their conversation. Strange that in three days theycould have passed from the uttermost of hell to the uttermost of safetyand peace. "These are good times, " said one of the boys, "and we are inthem. "

Then they heard a policeman shouting. Looking up, they saw a singularspectacle. Just in front of them was a poor old hearse drawn by twohorses, whose black trappings touched the ground. Shabbier hearse neverwas seen. Strangest of all, there was only a little, thin, black-robedgirl walking behind the hearse. There were no hired mourners as usual. There was no large group of friends walking with heads bared in token ofreverence; there was no priest; no carriages followed after. Saddest ofall, there was not even a flower. What could these things mean? Howstrange that when they were so happy this little woman could be so sad. 

Suddenly one of the soldier boys arose. He stepped into the street andlooked into the hearse. There he saw these words: "A soldier of France. "He began to question the woman. Lifting her veil, he saw a frail girl, and while the traffic jam increased she told her story. The soldier hadbeen wounded at the Battle of the Marne. He was one of the first to bebrought to Paris. He never walked again. "I am very poor; I have onlyone franc a day. We have no friends. I borrowed money for the hearse. "

The boy returned to his fellows. "Fall in line, boys!" he shouted. "Hereis a soldier of France. This little girl has taken care of him for threeyears on one franc a day. Line up, everybody, and tell the men toswallow their coffee and wine and fall into the procession. Go into theshops and say that a soldier of France lies here. " When that hearsebegan to move there were twenty men and women walking as mourners behindthe body. Two soldier boys walked beside the frail little girl with herheavy crêpe. As the soldiers walked along beside the hearse theprocession began to grow. On and on for two long miles this slowlymoving company increased in number until one hundred were in line, andwhen they came into God's Acre they buried the poor boy as if he were aking coming in with trumpets from the battle. For he was a soldier ofFrance. 

5. The Old Book-Lover of Louvain

Among the fascinating pursuits of life we must make a large place forthe collection of old books, old paintings, old missals and curios. Certain cities, like Venice, Florence, Rome, Naples, and Madrid, havebeen for a thousand years like unto the Sargasso Sea in which beautifulthings have drifted. 

Fifty years ago, men of leisure began to collect these treasures. Somemade their way into Egypt and Palestine, and there uncovered templeslong buried in sands and ruins and all covered with débris. From time totime old missals were found in deserted monasteries, marbles were diggedup in buried palaces. Men came back from their journeys with some lovelyterra cotta, some ivory or bronze, some painting by an old master, whosebeauty had been hidden for centuries under smoke and grime. Theenthusiasm of the collectors exceeds the zest of men searching for goldand diamonds amid the sands of South Africa. 

Fifty years ago a young scholar of Louvain won high praise because ofhis skill in dating and naming old pictures and manuscripts. When tenyears had passed by, this scholar's name and fame were spread all overEurope. Many museums in different countries competed for his services. 

The time came when the heads of galleries in London and Paris and Romesent for this expert to pass upon some art object. During the fiftyyears this scholar came to know every beautiful treasure in Europe. 

In the old castles of Austria, in a monastery of Bohemia, in the houseof an ancient Italian family, in certain second-hand bookstores, inout-of-the-way towns he found treasures as precious as pearls anddiamonds raked out of the muck-heap. 

When death took away his only son and left his little grandchildrendependent upon himself the old book-lover looked forward serenely intothe future. He knew that every year his treasures were growing more andmore valuable. Living in his home in Louvain he received from time totime visits from experts, who came in from all the cities of the worldto see his treasures, and if possible, to buy some rare book. 

Then, in August, 1914, came the great catastrophe, as came the explosionof Vesuvius that buried Pompeii under hot ashes and flaming fire. 

One morning the old scholar was startled by the noise and confusion inthe street. Looking down from his window he saw German soldiers, Germanhorsemen, German cannon. He beheld women and children lined up on thesidewalk. He saw German soldiers assault old men. He saw them carryingthe furniture, rugs and carpets out of the houses. He saw the flamescoming out of the roofs of houses a block away. 

A moment later an old university professor pounded upon his door andcalled out that they must flee for their lives. There was only time topick out one satchel and fill it with his precious manuscripts andcostly missals. Then the two old scholars fled into the street with thegrandchildren. Fortunately a Belgian driving a two-wheeled coal cart waspassing by. Into the cart climbed the little grandchildren. Carefullythe satchel filled with its treasures was also lifted into place. 

At that moment a German shell exploded beside the cart. When the oldbook-lover recovered consciousness the cart was gone, the grandchildrenwere dead and of all his art treasures there was left only one littlebook upon which some scholar of the twelfth century had toiled withloving hands. 

Carried forward among the refugees several hours later, Belgian soldierslifted the old man into a train that was carrying the wounded down toHavre. In his hand the collector held the precious book. Excitement andsorrow had broken his heart. His mind also wandered. He was no longerable to understand the cosmic terror and blackness. A noble officer, himself wounded, put his coat under the old man's head and made apillow and bade him forget the German beast, the bomb shells, theblazing city. But all these foul deeds and all dangers now were asnaught to the old man. 

"See my little book, " he said. "How beautiful the lettering! Why, uponthis book, as upon a ship, civilization sailed across the dark waters ofthe Middle Ages. Look at this book of beauty. The ugliness of the tenthcentury is dead. The cruelty and the slavery of bloody tyrants is deadalso. The old cannon are quite rusted away. But look at this! Behold, its beauty is immortal! Everything else dies. Soon all the smoke andblood will go, but beauty and love and liberty will remain. "

And then lifting the little book the old collector of Louvain pressedhis lips to the vellum page, bright with the blue and crimson and goldof seven hundred years, and in a moment passed to the soul's summerland, where no shriek of German shells rends the air, where wickedGermans have ceased from troubling and where the French and Belgians, worn by the cruelty of the Huns, are now at rest and peace. 

6. A Vision of Judgment in Martyred Gerbéviller

To-day everybody knows the story of Gerbéviller, the martyred. 

To the northwest is that glorious capital of Lorraine, Nancy. Farthernorthwest are Verdun and Toul, with our American boys. The region roundabout the martyred town is a region of rich iron ores. 

Some years ago, Germany found herself at bay, by reason of thethreatened exhaustion of her iron mines in Alsace-Lorraine. The newsthat France had uncovered new beds of iron ore stirred Germany to afrenzy of envy and longing. 

High grade iron ore meant a new financial era for France. The exhaustionof Germany's iron mines meant industrial depression, and finally asecond and third rate position. Rather than lose her place Germanydetermined to go to war with France and Belgium and grab their ironmines. To break down resistance on the part of the French people, theGermans used atrocities that were fiendish beyond words. The richer theprovince she wished to steal, the more terrible her cruelties. 

At nine o'clock in the morning on August 27, General Clauss and 15, 000soldiers entered Gerbéviller. Ten miles to the south was the remainderof the German army, utterly broken by the French attack. Clauss had beensent north to dig his trenches until the rest of the German army couldretreat. 

Every hour was precious. The Germans remained in the little town from 9A. M. Until 12:30 P. M. They found in the village thirty-one hundredwomen, girls and children, fifteen old men (the eldest ninety-two), onepriest and one Red Cross ambulance driver. Even the little boys and menunder seventy had gone to the front to dig ditches and carry water tothe French. 

It took the Germans only two and one-half hours to loot all the housesand load upon their trucks the rugs, carpets, chairs, pictures, bedding, with every knife and fork and plate. At half-past eleven General Clausswas in the Mayor's house, when the German colonel came in and reportedthat everything in the houses had been stripped and that they were readyto begin the firing of the buildings. 

The aged wife of the secretary to the Mayor told me this incident:

"We find no weapons in the houses, and we find only these fifteen oldmen, one Red Cross boy, and this priest, " said the colonel. 

"Line up the old men then and shoot them, " shouted General Clauss. "Takethe priest as a prisoner to do work in the trenches. "

The old men were lined up on the grass. General Clauss himself gave thesignal to fire. Two German soldiers fired bullets into each one of theold men. 

One of the heart-broken onlookers was the village priest. The Germanscarried him away as prisoner and made him work as a common labourer;through rain and sun, through heat and snow, he toiled on, diggingditches, carrying burdens, working eighteen hours a day, eating spoiledfood that the German soldiers would not touch, until finallytuberculosis developed and he was sick unto death. Then the Germansreleased him as a refugee, so the priest returned to Gerbéviller to die. 

Then came the anniversary of the murder of the fifteen old men and ofthe one hundred and two women, girls and children. On the anniversaryday of the martyrdom the noble Governor of the province assembled thefew survivors for a memorial service about the graves of the martyrs. 

Knowing that the priest would never see another anniversary of that daythe Prefect asked the priest to give the address at the memorialservice. No more dramatic scene ever occurred in history. At thebeginning the priest told the story of the coming of the Germans, thelooting of the houses, the violation of the little girls, the collectingof the dead bodies. Suddenly the priest closed his eyes, and allunconsciously he lived the scene of those three and a half hours. 

"I see our fifteen heroes standing on the grass. I see the Germansoldiers lifting up their rifles. I hear General Clauss cursing andshouting the command to fire. 

"I see you, Thomas; a brutal soldier tears your coat back. He puts hisrifle against your heart. When you sink down I see your hands cometogether in prayer. 

"I see you, François. I see the two big crutches on which you lean. Youare weary with the load of ninety years. I hear your granddaughter whenshe sobs your name, and I see your smile, as you strive to encourageher. 

"I see you, Jean. How happy you were when you came back with yourwealth to spend your last years in your native town! How kind you wereto all our poor. Ah! Jean, you did us good and not evil, all the days ofyour life with us!

"I see you, little Marie. You were lying upon the grass. I see your twolittle hands tied by ropes to the two peach trees in your mother'sgarden. I see the little wisp of black hair stretched out under yourhead. I see your little body lying dead. With this hand of mine uponthat little board, above your grave, I wrote the words, 'Vengeance ismine; I will repay, saith the Lord. '

"And yonder in the clouds I see the Son of Man coming in His glory withHis angels. I see the Kaiser falling upon Gerbéviller. I see Claussfalling upon our aged Mayor. But I also see God arising to fall upon theGermans. Berlin, with Babylon the Great, is fallen. It has become a nestof unclean things. There serpents dwell. Woe unto them that offendagainst my little ones. For, lo, a millstone is hanged about their necksand they shall be drowned in the sea with Satan. "

The excitement was too much for the priest. That very night he died. Henceforth he will be numbered among the martyrs of Gerbéviller. 

7. The Return of the Refugees

The return of the refugees to Belgium and France holds the essence of athousand tragedies. From the days of Homer down to those of Longfellow, with his story of Evangeline, literature has recounted the sad lot oflovers torn from one another's arms and all the rest of their livesgoing every whither in search of the beloved one, only to find the lostand loved when it was too late. 

But nothing in literature is so tragic as the events now going on fromweek to week in the towns on the frontier of Switzerland. 

When the Germans raped Belgium and northern France they sent back to therear trenches the young women and the girls, and now, from time to time, those girls, all broken in health, are released by the Germans, who sendthem back to their parents or husbands. 

Multitudes of these girls have died of abuse and cruelty, but others, broken in body and spirit, are returning for an interval that is briefand heart-breaking before the end comes. 

Three weeks ago an old friend returned from his Red Cross work inFrance. By invitation of a Government official he visited a town on thefrontier through which the refugees released by Germany were returningto France. 

It seemed that during the month of September, 1914, the Germans hadcarried away a number of girls and young women in a village northeast ofLunéville. When the French officials finished their inquiry as to thepoor, broken creatures returning to France they found a French woman, clothed in rags, emaciated and sick unto death. In her arms she held alittle babe a few weeks old. Its tiny wrists were scarcely larger thanlead pencils. The child moaned incessantly. The mother was too thin andweak to do more than answer the simple questions as to her name, age, parents, and husband. 

Moved with the sense of compassion, the French official soon found inhis index the name of her husband, the number of his company andtelegraphed to the young soldier's superior officer, asking that the boymight be sent forward to the receiving station to take his wife back tosome friend, since the Germans had destroyed his village. By someunfortunate blunder the officials gave no hint of the real facts in thecase. 

Filled with high hope, burning with enthusiasm, exhaling a happinessthat cannot be described, the bronzed farmer-soldier stepped down fromthe car to find the French official waiting to conduct him to one of thehouses of refuge where his young wife was waiting. 

My American Red Cross friend witnessed the meeting between the girl andher husband. When the fine young soldier entered the room he saw a poor, broken, spent, miserable creature, too weak to do more than whisper hisname. When the young man saw that tiny German babe in his young wife'sarms he started as if he had been stung by a scorpion. Lifting his handsabove his head, he uttered an exclamation of horror. In utter amazementhe started back, overwhelmed with revulsion, anguish and terror. 

Gone--the beauty and comeliness of the young wife! Gone her health andallurement! Perished all her loveliness! Her garments were the garmentsof a scarecrow. Despite all these things the girl was innocent. But sherealized her husband's horror and mistook it for disgust. She pitchedforward unconscious upon the floor before her husband could reach her. 

The history of pain contains no more terrible chapter. That night thedying girl told the French officials and her husband the crimes andindignities to which she had been subjected. Two other babes had beenborn under German brutality, and both had died, even as this infantwould die, and when a few days later her husband buried her he wasanother man. The iron in him had become steel. The blade of intellecthad become a two-edged sword. His strength had become the strength often. He decided not to survive this war. Going back to the front, heconsecrated his every day to one task--to kill Germans and save otherwomen from the foulest degenerates that have ever cursed the face of theearth. 

8. An American Knight in France

Coming around the corner of the street in a little French village nearToul, I beheld an incident that explained the all but adoring lovegiven to our American boys by the French children. The women and thegirls of that region had suffered unspeakable things at the hands of theGerman swine. Photographs were taken of the dead bodies of girls thatcan never be shown. The terror of the women at the very approach of theGerman was beyond all words. The very words "Les Boches" send the bloodfrom the cheeks of the children. The women of the Dakotas on hearingthat the Sioux Indians were on the war-path with their scalping kniveswere never so terrified as the French girls are on hearing the Germansoldiers are on the march. Even the little children have black ringsunder their eyes, with a strained, tense expression as they standtremulous and ready to run. 

On the sidewalk near me was a little French girl of about six, with herlittle brother, perhaps four years of age. Suddenly around the cornercame an American boy in khaki. He was swinging forward with step sureand alert. The children turned, but there was no terror in their eyesand no fear in their hearts. They did not know the American soldier;never before had they seen his face, but his khaki meant safety. Itmeant a shield lifted between the German monster and themselves. Forgetting everything, the little French girl started on a run towardsthe American soldier, while her little brother came hobbling after. Sheran straight to the American boy, flung her arms around his legging, rubbed her cheek against his trousers and patted his knee with herlittle hands. A moment later when her little brother came up theAmerican boy stooped down, lifted the boy and girl into his arms, andwhile they were screaming with delight carried them across to a littleshop, and found for them two tiny little cakes of chocolate, the onlysweet that could be had. The French children understand. 

The German motto was: "Frightfulness and terrorism are the very essenceof our new warfare. "

Pershing's charge was: "You will protect all property, safeguard alllives, lift a shield above the aged, be most courteous to the women, most tender and gentle to the children. "

In France our boys have lifted a shield above the poor and the weak, and, having given service, they are receiving a degree of love beyondmeasure; but there is no danger that they will be spoiled by theadulation of the French women and children, who rank them with theknights and the heroes of old. 

9. An American Soldier's Grave in France

One August morning I was in the wheat fields near Roye. Somewhere inthat field the body of a noble American boy was lying. He was a graduateof the University of Virginia; his mother and his sister had a host offriends in my old home city, Chicago. Guided by a white-haired priest, out in the wheat we found at last a little mound with a part of a brokenairplane lying thereupon. I pulled the rest of his machine upon hisgrave and learned that when the French boys picked him up they foundthat four explosive bullets had struck him while flying in the air afterhis victory over many German enemies. 

With my knife I cut a sheaf of golden grain and an armful of scarletpoppies and said a prayer for the boy and his mother and his sister. 

Standing there in the rain I wrote a letter to those who loved him, saying: "When you see this head of wheat, say to yourself 'One graingoing into the ground shall in fifteen summers ripen into bread enoughto feed sixteen hundred millions of the family of men. ' When you look atthis pressed poppy, say, 'His blood like red rain went to the root tomake the flowers crimson and beautiful for all the world; soon thefields of France shall wave like a Garden of God, and peace and plentyshall dwell forever there. "Without shedding of blood there is noremission. " Wine means the crushing of the grapes. At great price ourfathers bought Liberty. '"

Two thousand years ago Cicero, sobbing above the dead body of hisdaughter Tullia, exclaimed: "Is there a meeting place for the dead?"What becomes of our soldier boys who died on the threshold of life? Thisis life's hardest problem. Where is that young Tullia so dear to thatgifted Roman orator? Where is that young musician Mozart? Where is youngKeats? And where is Shelley? And where are young McConnell and RupertBrooke and young Asquith? And ten thousand more of those young men withgenius. Where also is that young Carpenter of Nazareth, dead at thirtyyears of age?

The answer is in this: They have passed through the black waters andhave come into the summer land. There they have been met by the heroescoming out with trumpets and banners to bring them into a worldunstained by the smoke and din of battle. There they will write theirbooks, invent their tools, complete their songs and guide the darklingmultitudes who come in out of Africa, out of the islands of the sea, into the realm of perfect knowledge, love and peace. 

10. "These Flowers, Sir, I Will Lay Them Upon My Son's Grave"

Last August, at an assembly in Paris, Ambassador Sharp held a littlecompany spellbound, while he related several incidents of hisinvestigations in the devastated region near Roye. One afternoon thecaptain stopped his military automobile upon the edge of what had oncebeen a village. Surveyors were tracing the road and making measurementsin the hope of establishing the former location of the cellar and thehouse that stood above it. An old gray-haired Frenchman had the matterin charge. He had lost the cellar of his house. Also, the trees that hadstood upon his front sidewalk, also his vines and fruit trees. His storyas stated by Ambassador Sharp was most pathetic. The old man had retiredfrom business to the little town of his childhood. When it becamecertain that the Germans would take the village, the man pried up astone slab in the sidewalk and buried his money, far out of sight. Along time passed by. When the Hindenburg plans were completed, theGermans made their retreat. Among other refugees who returned was theaged Frenchman. To his unbounded amazement the old man could not locatethe site of his old home. In bombarding the little village, the Germansdropped huge shells. These shells fell into the cellar, and blew thebrick walls away. Other shells fell in the front yard, and blew thetrees out by the roots. Later other shells exploding blew dirt back intothe other excavations. Little by little, the ground was turned into amass of mud. Not a single landmark remained. Finally the old manconceived the idea of beginning back on the country road, and measuringwhat he thought would have been the distance to his garden. But eventhat device failed him. For the huge shells had blown the stone slabinto atoms, scattered his buried treasure, and left the man in his oldage penniless and heart-broken. 

Long ago Dumas represented the man who had taken too much wine as tryingin vain to enter his own home, explaining to his inebriated friend thatthe keyhole was lost. But think of a cellar that is lost! Think of shadetrees, whose very roots have disappeared! Think of a lovely littleFrench garden with its roses and vines, and fruit trees, all gone! "Why, the very well was with difficulty located, " said the Ambassador. Butafter all, the loss of buried treasure that could never be found is onlya faint emblem of the loss of human bodies and human minds. Think of thesoldiers who have returned to find that the young wife or daughter whomthey loved has disappeared forever! And think of the wives andsweethearts who have received word from their officers that the greatshell exploded and killed the lover, but that no fragment of his bodycould be found! During one day Mr. Chamberlain and myself were driventhrough twenty-four series of ruins, that once had been towns andvillages, but where there was nothing left but cellars filled withtwisted iron and blackened rafters. Already, men are anticipating thehour of victory and talking about the reconstruction of the devastatedregions, the enforced service of a million German factories, building upwhat once they had torn down. But the restoring of houses, therestoration of factory and schoolhouse, of church and gallery, representa material recovery. But the other day, a French woman was invitedbefore the general who decorated the widow and praised her, returning toher the thanks of France, in that her last and seventh son had just beenkilled. Her response was one of the most moving things in history. "Ihave given France my all. These flowers, ah, sir, I have but one use forthem. I will take them out, and lay them on my son's grave. "

11. The Courage of Clemenceau

One Sunday afternoon, last August, in Paris, Alexandre, head of the FineArts Department of the Government, brought me an invitation from Rodinto visit his studio. We found the successor to Michael Angelo turningover in his hand an exquisite little head of Minerva, goddess of wisdom, carved with the perfection of a lily or a rose. "He is always studyingsomething, " exclaimed the author. But what Rodin wanted us to see washis head of Clemenceau. When the covering was lifted, there stood thevery embodiment of the man who is supreme in France to-day, --Clemenceau. The sculptor's face kindled and lighted up. "The lion of France!" Howmassive the features! How glorious the neck and the shoulders!Clemenceau makes me think of a stag, holding the wolves at bay, whilehis herd finds safety in flight. He makes me think of the lion, roaringin defence of his whelps. Our descendants will say, of a truth therewere giants in those days, and among the giants we must make a largeplace for Clemenceau. 

The invincible courage of Clemenceau is in the challenge he has justflung out to the enemies of France. Reduced to simple terms it comes tothis, --"It is said that the Germans can get within bombing distance ofParis, or reach the capital, providing they are willing to pay theprice. Well, --the Allies can break through the German line and gain theRhine, providing they are willing to pay the price. To destroy Parismeans a price of 750, 000 Germans at least. The probabilities are that soheavy a price would mean a political revolution in Germany. But what ifLudendorff gets to Paris? Rome was twice destroyed, and later the cityof brick was rebuilt as a city of marble. Nearly fifty years ago thepeople of Paris destroyed their own city, at an expense of hundreds ofmillions of francs. The motive back of the destruction was the desire toreplace an old and ugly city by a new and the most beautiful city in theworld. Fire destroyed Chicago, intellect rebuilt it, --earthquake andflame levelled San Francisco, courage restored the ruins. Enemies maydestroy Paris, genius and French art and skill and industry and will, will replace it. Our eyes are fixed on the goal, namely, the crushing ofPrussianism. What if Paris must decrease? It will only mean thatcivilization in France, and humanity, will increase. " Reduced to thesimplest terms, that is the substance of Clemenceau's appeal. Never wasthere courage more wonderful. Not even Leonidas at Thermopylæ everbreathed nobler sentiments. That is why Paris is safe to-day. That iswhy France is secure. That is why we await with confidence and quietnessthe next great offensive for the Germans. 

In her darkest hour what France and the world needed was a hero, a manof oak and rock, a great heart, a lion, --and the world found such a manin Clemenceau. Nothing fascinates the listeners like tales of courage. Not even stories of love and eloquence have such a charm for childrenand youth. Many of us remember that in our childhood the crippledsoldier of the Civil War became a living college, teaching bravery tothe boys of the little town. For months Clemenceau has been going up anddown France, heartening the people. This Prime Minister with his greatmassive head, the roaring voice, the clenched fist, is an exhilaratingspectacle. That hero of Switzerland, William Tell, left behind him atradition that it meant much to him to waken each morning and find MontBlanc standing firm in its place. Not otherwise all patriots, soldiers, and lovers of their fellow men to-day can look on the great Frenchstatesman and patriot and gather comfort and courage from the fact thathe still stands firmly in his place. 

OUR BRITISH ALLIES

V

1. "Gott Strafe England"--"and Scotland"

At the crossroads near the city of Ypres is a sign-board giving thedirections and the distances to various towns. One day the Germanscaptured that highway. 

There was a man in the company who had lived in some German-Americancity of the United States. He knew that but for England Germany wouldhave gotten through to the Channel towns and looted Paris. Climbing upon the sign-board that German-American wrote in good plain English thesewords: "God ---- England!"

That afternoon the Australian and the New Zealand army pushed theGermans back and recaptured the highway. Among other soldiers was aScotsman named Sandy. 

He read the sign, "God ---- England!" with ever increasing anger. Finally he flung his arms and legs around the sign-post, pulled himselfup to the top and, while his companions watched him, they saw him do amost amazing thing. 

They were cheering him because they expected him to rub out the word"England. " But not Sandy! Holding on by his left hand, with his rightSandy added to the words "God ---- England!" these words, "andScotland. "

He felt that it was an outrage that Scotland should be overlooked in anygood thing. Blessed was the people who had won the distinction of beinghated by the German, and therefore Sandy added the words "and Scotland"!

Now Scotland deserved that high praise. When the historian comes towrite the full story of this great war it will make a large place forthe words "and Scotland. " Wonderful the heroism of the British army!Marvellous their achievements! But who is at the head of it? A greatScotsman, Sir Douglas Haig. 

What stories fill the pages of the achievements of English sailors eversince the days of Nelson, standing on the deck of the _Victory_, down tothe battle of Jutland! But that gallant Scot, Admiral Beatty, holds thecentre of the stage to-day. There came a critical moment also when a manof intellect and a great heart must represent Great Britain in hergreatest crisis in the United States, and in that hour they sent aScotsman, Arthur James Balfour, philosopher, metaphysician, theologian, statesman, diplomat and seer. 

And what shall one more say save that the finances of this war have beencontrolled by a Scotch Chancellor of the Exchequer, and her railwaysorganized by a Scotch inventor. Wonderful the achievements ofEngland--that "dear, dear land. " Marvellous the contribution of Wales, through men like the Prime Minister, Lloyd George!

Who can praise sufficiently the heroes of Canada, Australia and NewZealand? In Ireland, for the moment, things are in a muddle. "What isthe trouble with the Emerald Isle?" was the question, to which theIrishman made instant reply: "Oh, in South Ireland we are all RomanCatholics, and in North Ireland we are all Protestants, and I wish toheaven we were all agnostics, and then we could live together likeChristians. "

But Ireland will soon iron out her troubles. To the achievements of thevarious people of the great British Empire let us make a large place forthe contributions of Scotland. The Germans hate with a deadly hatred anycountry and any race that has stopped them in their headlong careertowards crime. 

But the next time that a German-American has gone back to Berlin and hasreached the western front and puts up a sign reading "Gott strafeEngland" let him not fail to add these words, "and Scotland. "

2. "England Shall Not Starve"

Despite all warnings, rumours, and alarms, no dire peril known topassengers disturbed our voyage. The nearest approach came on a morningwhen the ship was two hundred miles off the coast of Ireland. 

The steamer was making a letter S and constantly zigzagging, whensuddenly the lookout called down that there was a rowboat dead ahead. With instant decision the officer changed the ship's course and wepassed the life-boat a half mile upon our right. 

The usual rumour started up and down the deck that there were deadbodies in the boat, but the petty officer answered my question by sayingthat it was 2, 000 lives against one possible life that every driftingboat must be looked upon as a German decoy; that if the steamer stoppedto send sailors with a life-boat to investigate it would simply give aGerman submarine a chance to come up with torpedoes. At that very momentone of the men beside the gun sighted a periscope and a moment later thegun roared and then boomed a second time and then a third. Because theobject disappeared, all passengers said it was a submarine, but theofficers said it was a piece of driftwood, tossed up on the crest of awave. 

That night, on deck, a close friend of the purser came for an hour'swalk around the deck. The memory of those three shots rested heavilyupon his mind. 

It seemed that some months before he had been a purser on an East Indianliner. On the home voyage, twenty-four hours after they left Cairo, whenwell out into the Mediterranean, this officer went below for an hour'srest. Suddenly a torpedo struck the steamer. The force of the explosionliterally blew the purser out of his berth. Grabbing some clothes, heran through the narrow passageway, already ankle deep in rushing water. The great ship carried several thousand soldiers and a few women whowere coming home from India or from Egypt. Despite the fact that allrealized the steamer would go down within a few minutes, there was noconfusion and the soldiers lined up as if on parade. 

The boat went down in about eight minutes, but every one of the womenand children had on their life-preservers and were given first places inthe life-boats that had not been ruined by the explosion. 

The purser said that he decided to jump from the deck and swim as far aspossible from the steamer, but despite his struggles he was drawn underand came up half unconscious to find himself surrounded with swimmingmen and sinking rowboats that were being shelled by the Germansubmarine. Suddenly a machine-gun bullet passed through his rightshoulder and left an arm helpless. For half an hour he lay with his leftarm upon a floating board, held up by his life-preserver. The submarinehad disappeared. At distances far removed were three of the ship'sboats and one raft. It was plain that there was no help in sight. 

Near him was a woman, to whom he called. The purser told the woman thathe had been shot in the right arm and could not help her nor come nearto her. She answered that it was good to hear his voice. 

The water was very cold. He began to be alarmed and reasoned as towhether the cold water would not stay the bleeding. From time to time hewould call out to the woman to keep up hope and courage and not tostruggle, but at last he saw she was exhausted. With infinite effort, swimming with his left arm, he managed to draw near to her. 

"Is drowning very painful?" the woman asked. 

"No, " answered the officer. "Once the water rushes into the lungs onesmothers. "

To which the English girl answered, "Then I think I will not wait anylonger. Good-bye! Good luck!"

Utterly exhausted she let her head fall over and in a moment thelife-preserver was on the top and that was all that he saw. 

"The next thing I remember, " said the officer, "was waking up to find anurse trying to pour a stimulant down my throat. "

A destroyer had come up in response to the signals for help and pickedup the survivors. 

For months he was in the hospital before he could be carried to England. Even now he was not able to lift a hat from his head with his right arm, but he could write a little. This was his first voyage to test hisstrength to prove to the Government that he could take his old task aspurser. 

"How did you feel, purser, when you heard that cannon roar this morningagainst that submarine?"

You should have seen the fire flash in the man's eyes. 

"How did I feel?" answered the officer. "I felt like a race-horsesnuffing the battle from afar. Let them sink this ship--I will takeanother. Let them sink every steamer, I'll take a sailing vessel. Letthem sink all our sailing vessels, we will betake ourselves to tugs. 

"We have 5, 000 steamers that come and go between any Sunday and Sunday. Some are old cattle-boats, some are sea tramps and some are oceanhounds. They have carried 10, 000, 000 men and 20, 000, 000 tons of warmaterials, and 8, 000, 000 tons of iron ore and $3, 000, 000, 000 worth ofgoods. 

"We have lent six hundred ships to France and four hundred ships toItaly. Our ancestors smashed the Spanish Armada. Our grandfathersbaffled Napoleon and their sons defy the Hun and his submarine. 

"When I go down my son will take my place. When Germany beats Englandthere will not be an Englishman left to tell how it happened. "

Then, leaning over the railing of the ship, the officer pointed to thesetting sun, and lo, right out of the sea, sailing into our sight, camea fleet of English merchantmen, laden with wheat, and the purser said:

"By God's help, England shall not starve. "

3. German-Americans Who Vilify England

The biography of Grant holds many exciting incidents. One of themconcerns a spy who nearly wrecked Grant's plans. It seems that a rumourcame saying that Sheridan had been defeated at Winchester. A telegramcame a few minutes later saying that Sheridan was recovering from thedisaster. Meanwhile, Grant noticed one of his young assistants wasendeavouring in vain to conceal his pleasure over the news of Sheridan'sdefeat. That feeling seemed inexplicable to Grant. The Commander-in-Chiefhad three armies--Sherman's in the South, Sheridan's in the Valley ofthe Shenandoah, and his own army of the Potomac. How could a young aiderejoice over Sheridan's defeat without down in his heart wanting Grantdefeated, the Union destroyed, and secession made a success? Grantbecame more and more alarmed. He told one of his associates to followthis youth, whom he feared was a spy. Shortly afterwards the man wasdiscovered sending signals, was tried, the proofs of his treasonuncovered, and finally he was executed. 

To-day certain German-Americans never tire of announcing theirAmericanism. Their favourite expression is: "Germany was the Fatherland, but the United States is the wife. " Not daring, therefore, to attack ourGovernment, afraid to confess that they want Germany to succeed, andwhen that time comes expect to hold certain offices under Germany, theyspend all their time vilifying Great Britain. There is one absolute andinvariable test of the German-American's treason to this country, andthat is bitterness towards England, because England is doing all she canto prevent Germany's victory. One thing has saved this country duringfour years, giving us a chance to prepare--Great Britain's fleet, holding Germany's battle-ships behind the Kiel Canal. To-day ourRepublic is defended by three armies--General Pershing's, Marshal Foch'sand Marshal Haig's. But whenever a German-American vilifies Haig andattacks England you may know that down in his heart he wants Pershingdefeated, the United States conquered, and Germany made victorious. TheGerman-American who vilifies Great Britain is angry because GreatBritain has prevented Germany from loading a million German veteransupon her six or eight thousand passenger ships, freight ships, sailingvessels and war fleet, and sailing to New York and assessing fiftybillion dollars indemnity upon us. 

In a certain Western State a German professor of electricity resignedfrom his institution. He was receiving about $3, 000 a year. Many monthspassed by. One day this man was heard defaming England. "England hasdestroyed the freedom of the seas. England controls Gibraltar and theSuez Canal. England is the great land pirate. England is the worldbutcher. " A Secret Service man followed the German professor, and foundthat he was working as fireman at the wireless station of that greatcity. This German professor of electricity had resigned a $3, 000 a yearposition to work for $75 a month as fireman. As soon as he found thatthe United States Government was upon his track he fled to Mexico. Thisspy's camouflage was love for the United States, but his treason wasrevealed through his hatred of England. That man should have beenarrested at dark, tried at midnight, and shot at daybreak. 

There is a newspaper reporter in this country. This German-American wascaught by a trick. Another reporter faked a story, writing out on histypewriter an account of several German submarines getting into theharbour of Liverpool and blowing up half a dozen English steamers andkilling several thousand Englishmen, and this German-American reporterlifted his hands into the air in glee, and in the presence of half adozen fellow reporters shouted: "I knew it! I knew it! I knew theGermans would smash Hades out of them!" In that moment he revealed hisreal attitude towards the United States. Any man that wants AdmiralBeatty defeated wants the American transports sunk and American soldiersmurdered. That reporter should also have been arrested at dark, tried atmidnight, and shot at daybreak. 

In another city there is a young Irish writer. He fulfills all theproverbs about the crazy Irishman. In connection with the Sinn Feinconspiracy this young writer proposed a toast to the memory of Sir RogerCasement, the success of the revolution, and poured forth suchbitterness upon England as cannot be described by those who hateingratitude towards a country that has given us a chance to prepare. Wherever that man goes he carries hate with him towards Great Britain. His atmosphere is malign; his presence breathes treason towards England. That is another man who should have been arrested at dark, tried atmidnight, and shot at daybreak. No man can serve God and Mammon. No mancan be faithful to the United States who hates England and lovesGermany. He must love the one and hate the other; he must hold to theone and despise the crimes of the other. No man can serve God and theAllies, Germany and the devil, at one and the same time. 

4. British vs. American Girls in Munition Factories

To-morrow morning at eight o'clock one million British girls will enterthe munition and related factories. To-morrow afternoon at four o'clockanother million girls will enter the same factories, to be followed atmidnight by the third shift of women. 

These factories average forty feet wide, and end to end would be 100feet in length. The roar of the machinery is never silent by day ornight. 

In one factory I saw a young woman who was closely related, through hergrandfather, to a man in the House of Lords. Her arms were black withmachine oil, her hair was under a rubber cover, she wore bloomers. Hertask was pouring two tons of molten steel into the shell moulds. Thegreat shells passed from the hands of one girl to another until thefiftieth girl, 1, 500 feet away, finished the threads into which thecap's screw was fastened. 

Every twenty-four hours these women turn out more small calibrecartridges than all England did the first year of this war. Everyforty-eight hours they turn out more large cartridges than all Englanddid the first year of this war. Every six days, with the help of men notfit for the battle front, they turn out more heavy cannon than allEngland did the first year of this war. 

They have sent 17, 000, 900 tons of ammunition to the front. Their shellsare roaring on five battle fronts in three continents. When the Britishboys thrust their huge shells into the cannon these boys literallyreceive the shells at the hands of the millions of English girls who arepassing them forward. 

Wonderful the heroism of the British soldiers! The reason why the menfight well at the front is because there are women at home worthfighting for. In all ages battles have been won, partly by the strongarm of the soldier, but chiefly by the heart that nerves the arm. Thatis why John Ruskin once said that "the woman in the rear generally winsthe victory at the front. "

It stirs one's sense of wonder to find that all classes and all socialconditions are represented in these factories. Thousands of youngschool-teachers have left the schoolroom behind, closed the book anddesk and gone to the factory. Tens of thousands of young wives andmothers have left their little children with the grandmother. Manyrectors and clergymen and priests, unfit for service at the front byreason of age, work all day long in the munition factory. Many aprofessional man crowds his work in the office that he may reach thefactory for at least a few hours' work upon shot and shell. 

One day in France, as I was entering the factory, I saw perhaps twentyyoung women come out, hurry across the street to a building where twoold crippled soldiers were taking care of the little children. Theseyoung mothers nursed their babes, looked after the other children andthen hurried back to the factory. Every minute was precious; every daywas big with destiny. Their young husbands and brothers and lovers, whenthe German push came, must have their cartridges and shells ready and inabundance. 

Watching these women with their strained, anxious faces--women who cuteach thread in the shell with the accuracy of the expert--you could seethe lips of the woman murmuring, and needed no confession from her thatshe was silently praying for the man who would use this weapon to defendher beloved France, her aged mother and her little child. 

When the beast is slain and the Potsdam gang tried and executed fortheir crimes, and the boys come home with trumpets and banners, theovations will be for the soldiers; but after the soldiers have had theirparade and their honour and their ovation on the first day of thetriumph, there should be a second great parade, in which, while thesoldiers stand on the streets and observe, and the merchants and workingmen and the professional classes stand as spectators, down the streetshall march the munition girls, who fashioned the weapons with which thesoldiers slew the common enemy. 

For while the boys at the front have defended liberty the girls at homehave armed the soldiers. Neither one without the other could have madethe world safe for democracy. 

Through the imagination these women have a right, while they toil, towatch the shell complete their work. The smith who forges the chain forthe ship's anchor has a right to exult when he looks out through hisimagination upon the great boat held firm by his chain in the hour whenthe storm threatened to hurl the craft upon the rocks. The inventor hasa right to say: "That granary full of wheat is mine; I invented thereaper. " The physician has a right to rejoice over the battle andvictory over the youth whose life was saved by the surgeon's skill. Nototherwise, the munition girl has a right when the long day of battle isover to say: "I safeguarded that cottage; I lifted a shield above thatlittle child; I built a wall against the cathedral and the gallery andthe homes of yonder city. "

For American girls of vision there is nothing that they so much desireas the immediate condemnation by our Government of 10, 000luxury-producing plants in this country, which should immediately betaken over by our Government for munition purposes, and before thedaybreak of the first morning there would be ten million American girlsstanding before the doors, trying to break their way in to obtain achance to fashion the shells that would protect American boys in dangerat the front. 

5. The Wolves' Den on Vimy Ridge

The bloodiest battle of 1917 was fought on the slopes of Vimy Ridge. That ridge is seven and a half miles long and is shaped like a dog'shind leg. Lifted up to an elevation of several hundred feet, the hillnot only commands an outlook upon the German lines eastward, butprotects the great plains that slope westward towards the EnglishChannel. 

To hold that ridge the Germans constructed a vast system of trenches, barbed wire barriers, Portland cement pill-boxes and underneath theridge, at a depth of sixty feet, they made their prisoners dig a galleryseven and a half miles long, with rooms for the officers opening out oneither side of the long passageways. 

One morning the Canadian troops started up the long sloping hillside, under skies that rained cartridges, shells and gas bombs. So terrificwas the machine-gun fire that some cartridges cut trees in two as ifthey had been cut with a saw, while others did not so much strike theCanadian boys as cut their bodies into two parts. 

Lying upon their faces they crawled up the hillside, cutting the wiresas they crept forward. Not until the second afternoon did the shatteredremnants reach the German trench that crowned the hillcrest. Then theyplunged down into the trench, while the Germans rushed down the longstairs into the underground chamber and fled through the lower openingsof their long gallery northward towards safety. 

Not until the Canadian officers led us into one of those German chambersdid we understand the black tragedy. The room was shell-proof. The softyellow clay was shored up by rough boards. All around the walls werebunks. In that chamber the German officers had kept the captive Frenchand Belgian girls. There were two cupboards standing against the wall. One was made of rough boards; the other was a large, exquisitely carvedwalnut bureau for girls' garments. When the German officers fled fromthe trench above they had just time to escape to the lower shell-proofrooms, grab some of the treasure and flee. Unwilling to give thesecaptive girls their freedom, since they could not have the girls theydetermined that their French and Belgian fathers and sweethearts shouldnot recover them. 

There was just time during the excitement of the flight to unlock thedoor, rush in and send a bullet through each young woman. A few minuteslater the Canadian boys swarmed through the long connecting chambers andside rooms. 

In one of those rooms they found these young women now dead or dying. Gas bombs had already been flung down and the rooms were foul withpoisoned air. Protected by their masks the Canadian boys had time topick up these girls and carry them up the steps into the open air, wherethey laid them down on the grass in the open sunshine. But help came toolate. Beginning with an attempt to murder the souls of the girls theGerman officers had ended by slaying their bodies. 

An officer saw to it that the official photographer kept the record ofthe faces of these dead girls. Once they must have been divinelybeautiful, for all were lovely beyond the average. One could understandthe pride and joy of a father or lover when he looked upon the younggirl's face. The slender body made one think of the tall lily stem, crowned with that flower named the face and glorious head. Strangelyenough they seemed to sleep as if peace had come, after long pain. Plainly death had been longed for. 

Weeks passed by. The photographs of the dead girls were shown in thehope that if possible word might reach their parents, but no friend hadbeen found to recognize them. One day a Canadian officer, making slowrecovery in a hospital near the coast, was asked by his nurse for thephotograph. 

It seemed there was a Belgian woman working in the hospital. Her villagehad been entirely destroyed. Her home was gone and all whom she lovedhad disappeared. By some accident the Red Cross nurse remembered thisphotograph and decided to show it to the Belgian woman who had passed soswiftly from abundance and happiness to the utmost of poverty andheart-break. Almost unwillingly at first the woman looked at the print. A moment later she held the picture out at arm's length, rose to herfeet, then drew it to her lips and hugged it to her breast. 

With streaming eyes she almost shouted, "Thank God! Julia is dead!Thank God! Julia is dead! Now I know there is a God in Israel, for Juliais dead, is dead--is dead! Thank God! Thank God!"

Though for a long time the doves had been in the clutches of the Germanhawks; though for a long time the lambs had been in the jaws of theGerman wolves; when all else failed death came and released the lovelygirls from the clutch of German assassins. 

6. "Why Did You Leave Us in Hell for Two Years?"

For British soldiers it had been a long trying day on Messines Ridge. For many nights the boys had been coming up towards the front trenches. The next morning at 3:50 they were to go "over the top"; a feat whichthey accomplished, driving in a mile and a half deep, on a long, longline, only to be stopped by four days and nights of rain that drownedthe trenches and drove them back out of the flooded valley to thehillside. Because the Germans knew what must come the next day, theGerman cannon were trying to bomb out the British guns. 

That night--tired out--we drove back eighteen miles behind the line forone good night's sleep. After dinner an English lieutenant told me thistragic tale:

"It was an April night last spring. All day the wind and fog and rainhad been coming in from the North Sea. The chill and damp went into thevery marrow of the bones. When night fell a few of us officers creptdown the long stair into a shell-proof room. There we had our pipes andgossiped about the events of the day and talked with the French captain, our guest, who was spending a week studying our sector. Finally the timecame when we must go back into the trench to take our turn in the rain. 

"We were putting on our raincoats, when in my happiness I said, 'Well, men, you should congratulate me. One week from to-night I shall not behere in this rain and mud. I shall be home in England and have my littlewife and my baby girl. Just one week! It seems like seven eternitiesinstead of seven days and nights!'

"I little dreamed the little tragedy that I had precipitated. My colonelwas very kind. He told me that he would have his permission in threemore months. The rest of the boys also said nice things. Suddenly werealized that the French captain was acting very strangely and sayingexcited things with his back towards us. We did not know how we hadinsulted him, nor could we understand what had happened. Finally mycolonel said to him:

"'Captain, I hope you will have your vacation soon and have a chance togo home and see your family. '

"He turned on us like a crazy man. He put his fists in the air, he halfshouted and half sobbed at us. 

"'How do you men dare talk to me about going home? Your land has neverbeen invaded, nor your families ruined. Home! How can I go home? TheGermans have had my town for a year. In their retreat they carried awaymy little girl and my young wife, and now the priest has gotten word tome that in six weeks my little girl and my young wife will both havebabes by the German beast who carried them off. '

"And then the Frenchman cursed God and cursed the devil! Cursed theKaiser and cursed the Fatherland. Oh, it was so terrible. Doctor, Ioften wonder how Americans could have left the women and girls ofBelgium and France in hell for two and a half years, while you menstood in safety and in peace. "

The historian will find it hard to answer that question. History willhave it to say that England was the good Samaritan who helped theBelgians who had fallen among thieves, while Americans were among thosewho passed by on the other side. 

7. "This War Will End Within Forty Years"

A New Zealand officer was giving directions to a group of his soldiers. They were in the field at the foot of Bapaume. The immediate task wasthat of cutting and rolling up the barbed wire. In that territory theGermans had left trenches foul with fever, wells filled with the corpsesof men and horses, springs polluted with every form of filth, but worstof all, the barbed wire entanglements. Every sharp point was coveredwith rust and threatened lockjaw. Looking in every direction, the wholeland was yellow with the barbed wire. The work was dangerous. Therebound of the wire threatened the eye with its vision, threatened theface and the hand, and all the soldiers were in a mood of rebellion. Inan angry mood, the officer exclaimed, "There are a hundred million milesof German barbed wire in France!"

And when later I asked the first lieutenant how long this war wouldlast, he made the instant answer, "This war will continue forty yearsmore! One year for the fighting, and thirty-nine years to roll up thewire. "

Because every soldier at the front hated the wire entanglements, thatbright sentence ran up and down the entire line from Belgium to theSwiss frontier. And for men of experience there is more truth in thestatement than one would at first blush think. It will take one moreyear for the fighting, but it will take thirty-nine years more to growthe shade trees. Five centuries ago the French began to develop the loveof the beautiful. On either side of the roads running across the landthey planted two rows of poplars, oaks or elms. When long time hadpassed the fame of the French roads and the shade trees went out intoall the earth. Under these trees the French farmer stopped his cart, fedhis horses and refreshed himself beneath the shade. Under these treesthe old men at the end of their career rested themselves, and gossipedabout old friends that had gone. 

And when the German found he could not hold the land and enjoy the shadetrees, the splendid orchards, the purple vineyards, he determined thatthe Frenchman should not have them, and so he lifted the axe upon everypeach and pear, plum and grape, cherry and gooseberry tree. Perhaps itwas as black a crime to murder the land as it was to murder the bodiesof the farmers, since the soul is immortal. 

"One more year of fighting and thirty-nine years" not to roll up thewire, but to rebuild the cathedrals and churches, the colleges anduniversities, the halls of science, the temples of art, the mills forthe weaving of cotton and linen and wool, and above all for therebuilding of the railways, the reconstruction of the canals and thebridges, great and small. But the most grievous loss is the human loss. Think of 1, 500, 000 crippled heroes and poor wounded invalids in the landof France alone! Think of another 1, 500, 000 young widows, or lovers andmothers! Gone the young men who promised so great things for the Frenchessay, the French poem, for the paintings and the bronzes! Dead theyoung lawyers, physicians and educators! Gone the young farmers andhusbandmen! Perished 1, 000, 000 old people and 500, 000 little children, all dead of heart-break. The German beast has been in the land. Like awolf leaping into the sheepfold to tear the throats of the young lambsand the mother ewes. 

What! Thirty-nine years more to recover ruined France and Belgium, Poland and Rumania? France will never be the same again. The scar of thebeast will abide. That is why no man of large mind and great heart willever make friends with a soldier from Germany, will ever buy an articleof German stamp, so long as he lives, will ever read another Germanbook, or support another German business. It is our duty to forgive thetransgressor who is repentant, but it is a crime to forget theunspeakable atrocities, the devilish cruelties of the German Kaiser, theGerman War Staff and the German army, with its 10, 000, 000 criminals. 

8. "Why Are We Outmanned by the Germans?"

Many thoughtful men have lingered long over the despatches announcingthat Great Britain called thirty thousand farmers to the trenches, thusthreatening the loss of a part of her harvest. One of the Britisheditors and statesmen explains this event by the frank statement thatfor the moment the Allies are outmanned, and will be until anothermillion Americans reach France. Many men are puzzled to understand whatthis means, but the explanation is very simple. The combined populationof Germany, Austria, Hungary and Bulgaria is not far from 140, 000, 000. To this must be added seventy millions of conquered and impressedpeoples of Belgium, Poland, Rumania, with the Baltic provinces ofRussia, Ukraine and other regions. Over against this population standsthe 125, 000, 000 living in Great Britain, France, Italy, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and the English people of South Africa, andIndia, and the Isles of the Sea. Concede, therefore, that the army ofsix millions of Allies are over against six millions of Germans. Why arewe outmanned?

Back of that British editor-statesman's statement lies a most dramaticfact. Our Allies keep their treaties, and will not use German prisonersto fight against their brothers. Therefore the six million of Allies'soldiers have no support behind them. But the Germans impress allconquered peoples and lifted into the air if the observer had a glasspowerful enough, he would behold back of the German six millions anothersix millions of impressed prisoners and conquered peoples, who supportthe German army. These men, driven forward by an automatic pistol andthe rifle, work within half a mile of the rear German trench. They digditches, fill shell holes, repair roads, bring up burdens, care for thehorses, scrub the mud from the wagons, and the slightest neglect of thetask means that they are shot down by the German guards. All thisreleases the German soldier from the deadly work that breaks the nerve, and unfits a man to go over the top. That means that the German soldiercan fight eight hours, and have sixteen for rest and recreation. 

But over against this German army fighting eight hours, with the deadlywork wrought by several million of impressed servants and slaves, standsthe Allied army. But our men after eight hours of active service mustthen begin to dig ditches, fill shell holes, repair bridges, clean themud from the wagons, bring up the munitions, and this deadly work foreight hours, added to their eight hours of active service, means onlyeight hours for sleep and recovery, while the German has sixteen hoursoff duty for recovery and sleep. The Allies keep their treaties, and donot ask a German prisoner to fight against his brother. The Allies obeythe laws of right and wrong, but the Ten Commandments are a greathandicap in time of war. Is there any one who supposes that six millionof Allied soldiers, working sixteen hours a day, are as fresh and as fitas six million Germans, working only eight hours a day? That is why thesituation is so perilous. Fortunately victories are not won by musclewithout but by the soul within. The sense of justice in the heart lendsa form of omnipotence to a youth. In a moral universe, therefore, wemust win. The great problem is, how to carry on until we can get anothermillion Americans across to France, with full equipment, and fiftythousand aeroplanes. 

"OVER HERE"

VI

1. The Redemption of a Slacker

Out on the Ohio River there is a large steel town. During the last fewyears many foreigners who have the Bolsheviki spirit have crossed theocean and found work in the great shops and factories. Little by littlethe foreign newspapers have developed the spirit that has now ruinedRussia, and is here under the American name of the I. W. W. Movement. Inthis steel city was an anarchist, with real power to move the mobs. Themere mention of the name of Carnegie or Rockefeller was to him likewaving a red flag in the face of a bull. In the evenings it was hiscustom to climb upon a box at the corner of the street, close to alittle park, and tell his hearers that all the wealth in the rich man'shouse was created by the workman's muscle. He made no allowance for theinventor, for the organizer, for the risks taken by the man who built afactory. A few weeks ago this anarchist laid down a newspaper, containing an account of the trial of the I. W. W. Leaders in Chicago. That night, becoming alarmed, lest he himself be caught in the drag-net, and perhaps forced to enlist as an enemy alien, this agitatordisappeared, leaving behind him his board bill, laundry bill, tailor'sbill, not to mention many other forms of indebtedness--a disappearancethat led every one of his creditors to give up any and all faith in theAmerican Bolsheviki movement. 

Now there was a young boy of about twenty-three who had long beenlistening to this agitator. When, therefore, the second night after theanarchist's disappearance came, this young man, who aspired himself tobe a leader of the mob, climbed up on the soap box, at the corner of thelittle park, and began to speak to the same old crowd. 

"Think of it, my friends! Just think of it! Think of some soldier comingin here and making me enlist! I have no grudge against the Germans. Idon't want to kill them. My forefathers were all German! My name isGerman. And I am an American all right, all right! Still, I don'tpropose to have anybody tell me what I must do. If I want to enlist, Iwill enlist, and if I don't, I won't! I'd like to see some Governmentagent come along and grab me for the draft! When he comes, he'll hear afew things from me, and then some!"

At that point a man lifted up his hand and said: "Now you may stop rightthere!" Throwing back his coat collar, he showed a little metal badge. Climbing up on the box, the stranger took the young anarchist by hisshoulder and half choked him, saying: "So you want to have the peoplesee some one take you to the draft office? Well, " said the officer, "now's the time for them to see him, and I'm the man. And you people, "he went on, "just take a good look at this fellow. It'll be the lastchance you're going to have, for he will be in jail to-night, andto-morrow we will decide whether or not he has been opposing the draft. If he has, he stands a good chance of being shot. " Blowing a littlewhistle, the officer dragged the young anarchist to the edge of thestreet, half lifted and half kicked him into the police wagon, whichsoon disappeared. The enemy aliens who remained behind were stupefied, partly with astonishment and partly with terror. Aliens began to say, "What will come next?" That night a number more of pro-Germansdisappeared from this town with its steel mills. 

The next morning, at ten o'clock, the officer entered the jail. "Get amove on you, young man!" he said brusquely. "You're going up to thecourt to be examined to see whether you are a slacker or a traitor. Inthe one case you will be interned and in the other case you will behanged or shot. "

The young anarchist was on his feet in a moment. "But, officer, aren'tyou going to give me a chance to enlist?"

"Young man, this Government does not want traitors to enlist, norpro-Germans. "

"I am not a pro-German this morning, " cried the excited man. "I havethought the whole thing over last night. I did not sleep a wink. I thinkthis Government is the best government in the world. And I am willing tofight for it. "

The officer was astounded. "Well, my young enemy, " he exclaimed, "adungeon seems to have had a good effect upon your mind. What hasregenerated you? Was it the cold water or the corn bread? Or the steeldoor before your dungeon? Or was it the bad air in your cell? Orpossibly it was the fear of death, or God Almighty, or futurepunishment. Come now, out with it!"

It was a thoroughly frightened boy who stood half an hour later in theprisoner's dock. "Give me some book on the Government of the UnitedStates, " he exclaimed to the judge. "And give me a week in which to showthat I am in earnest, and I will then volunteer. " The judge was verygrave. "Young man, " he said sternly, "any boy that will eat the bread ofthe United States, that will enjoy the liberty of this country, and hashad all the chances to climb to place that have come to you, and refusesto enlist, has something wrong with him, and it is only a question oftime when he comes to the judgment day. " To this the young man made theanswer that he had been lazy, careless and ignorant; that he had allowedhimself to become the tool of the runaway agitator, and then once morehe asked that he might have a chance to enlist. With the help offriends, the judge and the draft board finally let him off and sent himto a camp for three months' intensive training. Then came the news thathis company had been sent over seas, and within a short time thereafterin the list of casualties the name of this young foreigner appeared. But one letter reached this country, and that letter was notable forthis sentence: "For the first time in my life I have had young Americansfor my companions. The boys in my company have had a college educationand they have taught me bravery, truth, self-sacrifice, kindness andchivalry. I have learned more in two months at the camp than in all therest of my life put together. The companionship in my company and in mycamp have saved my soul. " It is this that explains the redemption of theslacker. 

2. Slackers versus Heroes

Going through the long communication trench, between the ruined city ofRheims and an observation lookout, with its view of the German fronttrench, we passed several soldiers digging an opening in the soft whitemarl, into a parallel trench. The captain in charge called my attentionto a French poilu. His hair was quite black, save for the half inch nextto the scalp and that was white as snow. If one had lifted up his hairand estimated his age by the last two inches of the jet locks the poiluwould have been about thirty-five, but the hair, pure white at theroots, and a glance at his face told us that he was fifty-five to sixty. 

"He passed inspection, " said the captain, "by dyeing his hair, andseveral weeks ago he broke the bottle of dye. Now he is half scared todeath for fear he will be thrown out, because he is at the beginning ofold age. Still I have no better soldier, no stronger, braver man. But Iam hoping much from a friend in Epernay, to whom I sent for a bottle ofblack hair dye. "

So long as the Frenchmen have that spirit France will never be defeated. 

Many weeks ago I was in a manufacturing town near Pittsburgh. The windwas sharp and chill. All overcoats were turned up at the collar. On abox stood a young Australian lieutenant. His cheeks held two fieryspots. He was telling the story of the second battle of Ypres. While hetalked you walked with him the streets of the doomed city, you heard thecrash of the great shells as they smashed through the public buildings;you witnessed the burning of the Cloth Hall and shivered as the noblestructure fell. One laughed with him in his moments of humour and weptover the sorrows of the refugees. He pleaded with the Welshmen and theCornishmen, and told them that the motherland was bleeding to death andthat now every boy counted. He flogged his hearers, scoffed at them, praised them, wept, laughed, reviled, transformed and finally conqueredthem. 

At the close, shaking hands with him, lo! he was burning with fever, with skin hot and dry. "Lieutenant, you should be at the hotel, in bed. You will kill yourself speaking in this cold air. "

"Well, " he answered, "there are plenty of our boys who are perfectlysound who will be killed inside of three months. I have the t. B. , (tuberculosis), but I believe that I can pull through a year. I haveenlisted over one hundred coal miners from Wales and iron-workers fromCornwall. I am willing to die for the motherland, after a year of t. B. , since my pals will be dead within three months through bullets. And whenI die I want to die with the consciousness that I have kept my manhood. "

I left that poor, wounded, half-dead young soldier with the feeling thatI had been in the presence of a superior being. 

Over against these heroes stand the slackers. There are hundreds andthousands of young men from allied countries who are of draft age, whofind refuge in this land. There are other thousands who have beenexempted, one because he has a flat instep, another because he has hadtrouble with his eyes or his teeth; or has tuberculosis, in its initialform, or is a victim of bronchitis. Most of these men owe it to theircountry and themselves to tear up their exemption papers. They earntheir living in this country, working ten hours a day, but they will notwork six or eight hours a day for Old England, thus releasing some youngman to go to the front. 

The question is not whether the youth has an exemption paper. The heartof the question is, Has he any moral right to accept an exemption? Thiswar is being fought by untold thousands of soldiers who could obtainhalf a dozen exemptions. They prefer to run the risk of death in sixmonths, to looking after their own hides and keeping well away fromdanger for the next six years or sixty. No one who has been in the coalregions or in the great mines of the Rocky Mountains but realizes thatthere are an enormous number of allied slackers in this country. Theyhave left their country to its dire peril at a moment when Old Englandis bleeding to death--when every man counts and when the cripples, theinvalids, the old men, the women, everybody who can give four hours oreight of work a day should enter the great war offices or commissarydepartments and do office work, and thus release the stronger men fortheir work at the front. 

The time has fully come when Americans should ask themselves thequestion whether or not they have a moral right to support with moneythat could be far better used, in the war stamp purchases or Red Crosswork, all these slackers and cowards, at a time when the motherland asksthem to throw away their exemption papers, in an hour when civilization, liberty and humanity are treasures trembling in the balance. 

3. German Stupidity in Avoiding the Draft

Following the revolution of 1848 in Germany, multitudes of people fledfrom Prussia and Bavaria, and these fugitives, settling in the UnitedStates, organized colonies that grew until there were often one hundredfamilies in a single community. Strangely enough, as the years went on, these Germans forgot the iron yoke they once had borne, until, when manyyears had passed by, it came about that time and distance lent a glamourto the landscape of the far-off Fatherland. Occasional letters fromtheir relatives kept them in touch with the old German home. At lastthey quite forgot the militarism, the poverty, the cruel limitations andthe hypocrisy of Germany. Familiarity also with the institutions of theRepublic bred a kind of contempt. Through the imagination Germany becamean enchanted land. When, therefore, war was declared theseGerman-Americans came together in their clubs, beer gardens and Germanchurches, to pledge unswerving fealty to the Kaiser and to themilitarism from which once they had fled as from death itself. 

Last summer brought the Government draft to the young men of one ofthese German colonies. The week was approaching when the German boysmust have their physical examination. American officers, Americanphysicians and the members of the draft board were already in sessionin a certain town. One Sunday a German-American physician appeared inthat community. That night some twenty or more young German-Americansmet that physician. He told them plainly how deeply he sympathized withtheir unwillingness to turn their guns against their own German cousinsand relatives in the Fatherland. Out of pity and compassion had beenborn his plan to save their limbs and perhaps their lives, and also toserve the Fatherland and the beloved Kaiser. "I have here, " said thephysician, "a certain heart depressant. It will slow your heart like thebrake on an automobile. It is a simple coal-oil product. It is quiteharmless. It was made by the well-known German firm of Baer & Company, chemists, and it is so cheap. I shall see to it that you are rejectedfor the draft. And--think of it!--only twenty-five dollars! For thatlittle sum I will keep you from being wounded or killed. You will eachone give me twenty-five dollars; then I will give you this bottle, holding five grains for Monday, ten grains for Tuesday, fifteen grainsfor Wednesday, twenty grains for Thursday, twenty-five grains forFriday, and on Saturday you will be rejected. " Ten minutes later thenecromancer had juggled twenty-five dollars out of the pocket of eachnewly drafted boy and into his own right-hand pocket. 

On Saturday these young men appeared before the draft board and theGovernment physicians. All the boys were in a dreadful conditionnervously. Now the heart would drop to forty, and then at the slightestexertion run up to two hundred and twenty. All were dizzy, nauseated, yellow and green, feverish. But the Secret Service men knew every detailof what had taken place, and all the facts were in the hands of thedraft board. A certain farmer's son, young Heinrich H----, was firstexamined. The United States physician counted a pulse that varied fromforty to two hundred and twenty. The physician kept his face perfectlystraight. "Marvellous heart! Regular as a clock! Strong as the throbbingof a locomotive. Seventy-two exactly! Absolutely normal. I congratulateyou, young men, upon your fine heart action. A man is as old as hisheart engine. A boy with a heart like yours ought to live to be ahundred years old. All you need is a change of climate. France will dothe world for you. You may need a little heart stimulant, but I thinkthat nothing hastens the pulse beat like a few rifle balls and bombshells from Hindenburg. " He sent every one of the twenty boys into theservice, but separated them, one going to Camp Ayer, in Massachusetts;one to Camp Bliss, in El Paso, Texas, and the rest to camps in Statesbetween. In one Middle West community a German father and son went sofar as to deaden pain through cocaine and then cut off the finger of theright hand. It is generally understood that both the father and son arenow in two widely separated penitentiaries, reflecting each in his owncell upon the folly of treason and the crime of becoming a traitor tothe kindest and best Government that has ever been organized upon ourearth. 

4. "I'm Working Now for Uncle Sam"

The long transatlantic train came to a dead stop at the division stationin that great Southwestern State, where one was surrounded bysage-brush, the sand, the distant foot-hills and the far-off mountainrange. 

One of the Pullman cars showed signs of a hot box, and a moment laterthe wheel burst into a mass of flame. In the thirty minutes' wait forrepairs I made my way into the room where the conductors, engineers andfiremen met. On a little table I found a copy of the address givenbefore the railroad men of El Paso, Texas, by Secretary McAdoo. 

I called the attention of the different men to the address, to theclarity of the reasoning, the simplicity of the argument, the strengthof the appeal and the glowing patriotism that filled all the pages. Thepamphlet had been worn by much reading. It was covered with the blackfinger prints of busy men who had been working around the locomotivesand tenders. 

Plainly Mr. McAdoo's speech had made a profound impression upon theseemployees. Having first of all called the attention of the large groupof men to the creative work of Alexander Hamilton, the first Secretaryof the Treasury, who struck, as Daniel Webster said, "the dry rock ofnational credit and abundant streams of revenue gushed forth, " I askedthese men whether there had been in one hundred and twenty-five yearsany forward movement in finance that was comparable to the benefitsderived from the national reserve bank law, under Secretary McAdoo, alaw that not only had prevented a panic in this country during this war, but had raised more billions within four years than the total cost ofthe Government in the first century of our existence. 

Late that afternoon, on the train, the conductor sought me out. In themidst of the discussion he drew out a roll of bills. He told me that inthose mountain towns many of the ranchers did not buy their tickets atthe stations. 

To use his expression, "They had it in for the railroads. " "They pay metheir fare in cash, and when I give them the receipt they tear up thereceipt and wink at me. I always feel, " he said, "like resenting theseactions, because I know that they are incitements to petty theft, butnow, " he said, "I have my chance. I always tell them, " said theconductor, "that money belongs to Uncle Sam. He runs this railroad, Uncle Sam takes this money. 

"With it he will buy guns for the American boys at the front and buildships to carry food that will feed these soldiers. I would rather losethat right arm than take one penny of money that belongs to Uncle Sam. This is my job to run this train. I tell my crew every day that we mustmake the coal produce every possible pound of steam, that every wastemust be saved, and every pound of energy used and that we must run thistrain so as to help win this war. "

From morning till night I found that conductor was preaching thatsentiment. His words were directly traceable to the words of SecretaryMcAdoo at El Paso, Texas. That single speech transformed these men. 

Measured by the results--truth that transforms life and changes conductand character--that was a truly great speech. We must all hope much fromthis new sense of devotion to the interests of Uncle Sam. 

5. The German Farmer's Debt to the United States

There are literally thousands of small German colonies in differentparts of this country. In one far distant State is a community settledby about two hundred German families, who took up the land immediatelyafter the Civil War. 

By some good fortune they settled in what is now one of the veryrichest sections in the United States. Land that they bought for $1. 25an acre is now worth $250 an acre. In that community there are twoGerman churches. 

Both pastors came from Germany, both were educated in German colleges, both read German newspapers and both insist upon carrying on acolloquial German school, with German teachers, German text-books andGerman standards. 

Little pressure was brought to bear upon these farmers during the FirstLiberty Loan. By many devices they succeeded in getting their boys awaybefore the draft registration. While it was never proved technicallythat they had all pledged themselves not to oppose Germany, morally thisis known to be the fact. 

October of 1917 came and the Second Liberty Loan was on. One day allthese farmers received a printed card, saying there would be a meetingon Monday night, in connection with the Second Liberty Loan. "I find youmade no subscription whatsoever to the First Liberty Loan. There arereasons why I think it best for me to advise you to attend thismeeting. "

Every German farmer read that card several times. Who was this strangerwho was coming into the community? Was he a Secret Service man? How didhe find out that there had been a secret meeting of the Germansimmediately after war had been declared against Germany? Each farmerbegan to ask himself: "Has any one quoted me?" Each one decided toattend that meeting. 

The meeting began at precisely seven o'clock. Only one man who hadreceived the notice was absent, and his son brought a message concerninghis father's absence. The stranger arose in his place, but left ituncertain as to whether he was a Secret Service man, a banker or apatriot interested in his country. He began with substantially thesewords:

"Men, you are all German-Americans. I find that not one of yousubscribed to the First Liberty Loan. You came to this country poor men. This Government sold you Government land for from a dollar and a quarterto two dollars and a half an acre. But you seem to have forgotten onething. Your title deed to your farm rests upon your loyalty as citizensof the Republic. Whenever you refuse to support the people of theRepublic you have by your own act annulled the title deed of your land. 

"If you refuse to support your Government in this war, you are atraitor, and when this is proved you will be shot. If secretly you havebeen sending money to the Kaiser to buy guns with which to kill Americanboys you have forfeited the title deed to your farm. Your property hasbecome again the possession of the Government and people of the UnitedStates. "

By this time these farmers had their mouths open, and their faces becametense and alarmed. When his words had had time to sink in, the strangerwent on: "I have here a statement as to the number of acres in each farmowned by each man in this room. The first man's name is Heinrich ----;you own 320 acres of land. It is worth at least $75, 000. There is nomortgage on this farm. Heinrich, I think you had better buy $2, 500 worthof Liberty Bonds. I am simply advising with you as a friend. I have madeout an application for you, and all you have to do is to sign it. 

"My advice to every one of you is that you buy from three to five percent, of the value of your farm. I want to say incidentally that Itrust that there will never again be held a secret meeting of theGermans in this room to discuss the best way to avoid supporting theUnited States Government in this war against Germany, and how you canbest help the Kaiser. "

That little sentence worked like magic. Every farmer in the room rose tohis feet in his anxiety to rush forward to the table. Men literallystruggled to see who should sign up first. Their enthusiasm for theUnited States Government was as boundless as it was sudden in itsmanifestation. 

Remember that there were only two hundred farmers in the room. And yetthere are the best of reasons for believing that the men in that roombought that night nearly $200, 000 worth of Liberty Bonds. 

6. "Sharper Than a Serpent's Tooth" Is an Ungrateful Immigrant

One of the things that no patriot can ever understand is the ingratitudeof the Germans who fled from the Fatherland to escape German militarismand autocracy. 

Lecturing in a Western State, I met a banker who had returned from aschoolhouse in a rural district where he had been talking about theLiberty Bonds to a German audience. One old German refused to attendthis meeting. He was very bitter in his attacks upon our Government. Hehad made no subscription to the first two Liberty Loans; he had refusedto help in the campaign for the Red Cross Fund; he insisted that he paidhis taxes and that was all that the Government had any right to demandfrom him. 

He went one step further: The old man said that he had not read a singleAmerican newspaper since the war began, and that nothing but a Germannewspaper should cross his threshold until the war ended. Not until thatbanker descended upon this pro-German with the indignation of anoutraged patriot did the rich old farmer capitulate. 

The story of that German is typical. He came to this country about 1859. When the homestead act was passed he received from the United States onehundred and sixty acres of land in the very centre of one of the richestStates in this Union, and his one hundred and sixty acre farm is nowworth about $100, 000. 

When he ran away from Germany he was receiving twenty cents a day. Herose at daybreak, cleaned stables, milked cows, toiled in the field, began his milking after dark, worked sixteen hours a day, had nothing toeat except what could not be sold by his employer. He was a Germanplebeian, with no chance ever to improve his condition. He was ignorant, stupid, a mere beast of burden. 

So the German boy slipped across the line into Holland, came steerage tothis country, slept among the rats of the ship, but the people of theUnited States welcomed that miserable refugee. The American school, without any charge, gave him four months' instruction every winter untilhe was twenty. The American people gave him a farm as a free gift. ThisRepublic educated his children, his grandchildren and enriched them withland, office, honours and wealth. Once he hated autocracy and militarismin the Fatherland--but in 1918 he loved them. 

No sooner did the Kaiser invade Belgium and commit rape upon that landthan this German farmer passed through a revulsion. Whatever the Kaiserdid was right. If Germany did a thing it was proper. Germany had a rightto break her solemn treaties; Germany had a right to sink the_Lusitania_; if Germany was out of iron ore she had a right to invadeFrance and steal her iron mines. What had been crimes suddenly becamevirtues. 

Fleeing from the German tyrant in 1859, in 1918 the old farmer turnedupon the United States that had befriended him. 

"If I have to make my choice, I choose the Kaiser. "

Mentally, it seems absurd. Morally, his was a monstrous position. Butblood was thicker than water. Gratitude had no place in his heart. 

This old German regarded the gift of his farm by our people as a sign ofweakness. The Republic gave him a homestead because he was a superiorman. He actually had a belief that Germany would soon overrun the world;that the Kaiser would soon be enthroned in Washington; that some Germanin Iowa would supersede the Government in Des Moines, and he was simplygetting ready, having made friends with the Kaiser's Government, toreceive reward when the United States became a German colony. 

Who can explain the obsession?

It is clear that the German-Americans had been drilled for forty yearsthrough their German newspapers in these ideas. Little by little theyhave been alienated from the institutions of the Republic. Slowly theyhave been led to believe that Berlin is soon to be a world capital andKaiser Wilhelm the world emperor, while only Germans shall be allowed inthis country to hold office or land, while all Americans become tenantsand servitors thereto. 

Plainly this is what Siebert meant in his book, published five years agoin Berlin:

"When we have reached our goal Germany must see to it that no race savethe German race can have a title deed in land or carry weapons, just asin the first world empire no one but a Roman was allowed to own land orhave a sword or spear. "

7. In Praise of Our Secret Service

Of necessity our Secret Service work is carried on in silence andwithout blare of trumpets. The achievements of the Department of Justicecannot be proclaimed from the housetops. Everybody knows something aboutthe crimes committed by the German agents. These spies, loyal with theirlips, have in their hearts plotted innumerable crimes against ourGovernment. They have dynamited our factories and warehouses; they haveburned shops and planted bombs on ships; they have thrown trains fromthe track; they have poisoned the horses and mules upon the transportsen route to France; they have fouled the springs of knowledge throughtheir hired reporters; with all the cunning developed by long practice, they have spread their insidious and perilous influences into theremotest regions of the land. But over against these spies and secretagents have stood the United States Secret Service men, and witheverything in favour of the German plotter, our defenders have beatenthe German at his own game. 

War was declared against Germany on April 6, 1917. One Sunday night twoor three weeks later a large company of German-Americans belonging tothe secret German league met in their accustomed place of assembly. There were several hundred Germans present, but among them were threeSecret Service men. The German lawyer who opened the meeting was verybitter. Having made certain that only German sympathizers were present, he went on to say that the occasion of this war could be traced to WallStreet. Certain rich bankers and American plutocrats had loaned perhapsa billion dollars to England. Since the war was going against England, these rich men were afraid that they would lose their investment. Intheir emergency they forced war upon Congress. The speech was clever, specious, cunning, shrewdly calculated to stir up passion. And thespeech was applauded to the echo. The second speaker made a no lessskillful appeal to the prejudices of the members of the secretGerman-American league. Since the war was a money war, originated byWall Street, the Government could be defeated as to its plans only bymoney. Therefore, every member of the league must make his contribution;no one present but must give at least ten dollars. And, he added, inview of the fact that it was Sunday night and that some might be withoutmoney, and since no checks could be accepted, there were several Germanbankers present, who would be glad to advance money to the members whowished to make cash contributions. The Germans had provided in advanceagainst every possible emergency. 

Then came the opportunity for the Secret Service men. The first onearose and began with an apology for a German brogue that in reality hewas assuming. He spared no words in praising the first two speakers. "What a wonderful man was the Kaiser! What victories von Hindenburg hadachieved! The Fatherland was standing with back against the wall. Howwicked a nation was France, and Poland! What a black heart England had!"He pictured Germany as a lamb with fleece as white as snow, and a hugeBelgian wolf jumping at the lamb's tender throat. "What an ambitious manwas President Wilson. How eagerly had Congress waited until Germany wasweak, and then rushed in to grab the fruits of war!" When this man satdown his hearers were in a state of rapturous upheaval. But scarcely hadhis voice ceased echoing in the air when the second Secret Service manarose. Having complimented the first two speeches by the Germanplotters, he said that he thought he represented the members inexpressing the judgment that the third speaker had made a speech thatwas unrivalled in its statement as to the duty of the members toward theKaiser and the beloved Fatherland. The second Secret Service man, therefore, moved that it be the sense of the meeting that the member whohad just spoken be made secretary of the meeting, be custodian of thefunds just contributed. In five minutes he had all the secrets of themeeting safely lodged in the hands of the first Secret Service man. Atthis point the third representative of the Government arose andnominated the second Secret Service speaker, who had just taken hisseat, as teller to count the funds, and in recognition of this man'sgifts the teller immediately afterwards appointed the third SecretService man assistant teller. During the next three hours, in thesecrecy of their own meeting, over twenty prosperous and influentialGermans committed themselves against this Government. 

About midnight the secretary and the two tellers turned over to the twoGermans who had made the two big speeches at the opening of the meetingthe entire collection, which amounted to thousands of dollars. But athalf-past twelve, as these two Germans were entering their hotel, fourSecret Service men tapped them on the shoulder and promptly relievedthem of the aforementioned thousands. One of these men is now workingout his sentence in a Southern penitentiary and the other in a Westernpenitentiary. Their sentences were for twenty-eight years. The other menwho defended Germany and attacked the United States are servingterms--some long and some short. It is a proverb that the wicked fleewhen no man pursueth. But Dr. Parkhurst coined a striking sentence whenhe added: "The wicked man makes better time in fleeing when therighteous Secret Service man pursues him with a sharp stick. "

_Printed in the United States of America_

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Transcriber's Note:

 Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note.