and injured. The head of Jupiter is
cracked; the Venus di Milo has no arms; Aphrodite has been repaired with
plaster; Apollo has lost a part of his neck and one leg. From time to
time an old marble is dug up in a field, where some ploughman has
chanced upon the treasure. Owners hid their beautiful statues, ivories
and bronzes, to save them from the vandals. Unfortunately, the modern
Huns rushed into the French towns, riding in automobiles, and sculptors
and painters had no time to hide their treasures. The great cathedrals
could not be hidden. The Kaiser in one of his recent statements boasted
that he had destroyed seventy-three cathedrals in Belgium and France. It
is all too true. From the beginning, the Cathedral of Rheims, dear to
the whole world, and glorious through the associations of Jeanne d'Arc,
was doomed, because the Germans, having no treasure of their own, and
incapable of producing such a cathedral, determined that France should
not have that treasure. The other day, in Kentucky, a negro jockey came
in at the tail end of a race, ten rods behind his rival. That night, the
negro bought a pint of whiskey, and determined to have vengeance, so he
went out at midnight, and cut the hamstrings of the beautiful horse that
had defeated his own beast. Now that is precisely the spirit that
animated the German War Staff and the men that have devastated France
and Belgium, and every man who has witnessed these German crimes with
his own eyes will never be the same person again. His whole attitude
towards the Hun is an attitude of horror and revulsion. A certain noble
anger burns within him, as burned that noble passion in Dante against
those criminals who spoiled Florence of her treasures.

10. Was This Murder Justified?

One raw, December day, in 1914, an American gentleman, widely known as
traveller and correspondent, was in a hospital in London, recovering
from his wound, received in Belgium. He was startled by the appearance
of an old Belgian priest, and a young Belgian woman. The American author
was travelling in Belgium at the time of the German invasion. Quite
unexpectedly he was caught behind the lines, near Louvain. Having heard
his statement, the German officer recognized its truthfulness and
sincerity, and insisted that this American scholar should be his guest
at the Belgian chateau of which he had just taken possession. The German
had already shot the Belgian owner, and one or two of the servants, who
d