y was
lifted from the face of Germany and the dripping fangs of the Blonde
Beast were displayed--the Minotaur countenance of one glutted
with human flesh, weary with rape and rapine, but still tragically
insatiable and lusting for the new sensation of hounding America to
destruction.

I have not placed these revelations in their proper sequence; some
were made after war had been declared. They had the effect of changing
every decent American into a self-appointed detective. The weight
of evidence put Germany's perfidy beyond dispute; clues to new and
endless chains of machinations were discovered daily. The Hun had come
as a guest into America's house with only one intent--to do murder as
soon as the lights were out.

The anger which these disclosures produced knew no bounds. Hun
apologists--the type of men who invariably believe that there is a
good deal to be said on both sides--quickly faded into patriots. There
had been those who had cried out for America's intervention from the
first day that Belgium's neutrality had been violated. Many of these,
losing patience, had either enlisted in Canada or were already in
France on some errand of mercy. Their cry had reached Washington at
first only as a whisper, very faint and distant. Little by little that
cry had swelled, till it became the nation's voice, angry, insistent,
not to be disregarded. The most convinced humanitarian, together with
the sincerest admirer of the old-fashioned kindly Hans, had to join in
that cry or brand himself a traitor by his silence.

America came into the war, as every country came, because her life was
threatened. She is not fighting for France, Great Britain, Belgium,
Serbia; she is fighting to save herself. I am glad to make this
point because I have heard camouflaged Pro-Germans and thoughtless
mischief-makers discriminating between the Allies. "We are not
fighting for Great Britain," they say, "but for plucky France." When I
was in New York last October a firm stand was being made against these
discriminators; some of them even found themselves in the hands of the
Secret Service men. The feeling was growing that not to be Pro-British
was not to be Pro-Ally, and that not to be Pro-Ally was to be
anti-American. This talk of fighting for somebody else is all lofty
twaddle. America is fighting for America. While the statement is
perfectly true, Americans have a right to resent it.

In September, 1914, I crossed to Holland and was immens