e
future by buying Government stock now, I experienced a jolt. Because
this picture has always been one of the sacred things, and to see it
again was a necessary part of any visit to Paris. As to the shock
which the sight would have caused the painter, were he alive to-day,
the pen prefers to say little. Even with three patriotic motives to
control him--for he was American by birth, French by sympathy, and
English by residence--WHISTLER must have delivered his mind. That he
would consider this anything but a gentle art of breaking enemies, is
certain; nor can I see him holding his peace about it.

[Illustration: "These good dogs would prefer WAR BONDS to a bone."]

Personally, however, I got over my own sense of the outrage very
quickly. For the new War Bonds must succeed, and the end justifies the
means, however desperate--that is how I looked at it, and therefore,
instead of maintaining an attitude of preciosity, I began to wonder
how I could assist the authorities (who had dared to bend the
Butterfly to their purpose) to further useful acts of vandalism.
Nothing should, I determined, stand in my way. Where they were merely
"hairy," I would be absolutely bald-headed. Hence, if there is
anything in the suggestions that follow which may set the teeth of
the reverent on edge, it must be attributed to honest zeal. All that
I want is for the Kennedy-Jones of the movement to lift Art from her
pedestal for a few days only--in the interests of the Allies and to
the lasting detriment of Germany--and then replace her. But there is
no need to trouble about the replacing. That will be automatic.

Beginning with the postulate that War's sinews must be forthcoming, or
HAIG and BYNG will batter at the Hun to insufficient purpose, we can
do anything. Let then, I say, all the artists be conscripted, whether
old masters or young. The facade of the National Gallery is to-day one
vast hoarding advertising the progress of the Loan; let us go inside
and levy upon its treasures too. A few pictorial suggestions will be
found on this page; others will occur to its habitues, and doubtless
the Trustees (although Lord LANSDOWNE is one) will be only too glad
to fall in with the project.

[Illustration: "She's happy. She's bought WAR BONDS."]

BURNE-JONES'S "Cophetua and the Beggar Maid" hangs, for instance, in
the National Gallery--temporarily borrowed from the Tate--at this
moment. It would make a good piece of propaganda. "Why is the maid