\Wf/ O o RAEMAEKERS' CARTOONS RAEMAEKERS' CARTOONS WITH ACCOMPANYING NOTES BY WELL-KNOWN ENGLISH WRITERS WITH AN APPRECIATION FROM H. H. ASQUITH, PRIME MINISTER OF ENGLAND GARDEN CITY NEW YORK DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY i 9 i 6 J Copyright, igi6, by DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages, including the Scandinavian NOV -2 1916 ©CU445436 List of Cartoons and the Descriptive Notes Portrait of Louis Raemaekers - Introduction Francis Slopford An Appreciation from the Prime Minister - - H.H. Asquith Christendom After Twenty Centuries - - Francis Stopford 8 A Stable Peace Eden Phillpotts 10 The Massacre of the Innocents - - - - E. Charles Vivian 12 Bernhardiism ------- Hilaire Belloc 14 From Liege to Alx-La-Chapelle - Francis Stopford 16 Spoils for the Victors - Hilaire Belloc 18 The Very Stones Cry Out ----- Bernard Vaugkan, S.J. 20 Satan's Partner - - G.K. Chesterton 22 Thrown to the Swine The Dean of St. Paul's 24 The Land Mine - Herbert Warren 26 "For Your Motherland" Eden Phillpotts 28 The German Loan E. Charles Vivian 30 Europe, 1916 - - G.K. Chesterton 32 The Next to Be Kicked Out— Dumba's Master - Arthur Pollen 34 The FRffiNDLY Visitor H. DeVere Stacpoole 36 "To Your Health, Civilization!" - - - The Dean of St. Paul's 38 Fox Thipitz Preaching to the Geese - - - Herbert Warren 40 The Prisoners ------- Eden Phillpotts 42 It's Unbeld2;vable - Hilaire Belloc 44 Kreuzland, Kreuzland Uber Alles - - - The Dean of St. Paul's 46 The Ex-convict ------- Hilaire Belloc 48 Miss Cavell - - -\ - - - - -G.K. Chesterton 50 The Hostages ------- j h n Oxenham 52 King Albert's Answer to the Pope - - - E. Charles Vivian 54 The Gas Fend ------- Eden Phillpotts 56 The German Tango ------ j h n Buchan 58 The Zeppelin Triumph W.L. Courtney 60 Keeping Out the Enemy H. DeVere Stacpoole 62 The German Offer Hilaire Belloc 64 The Wolf Trap Herbert Warren 66 Ahasuerus II John Buchan 68 Our Candid Frdend The Dean of St. Paul's 70 LIST OF CARTOONS AND THE DESCRIPTIVE NOTES PAGE Peace and Intervention ----- Boyd Cable 72 Little Red Riding Hood ----- H. DeVere Stacpoole 74 The Sea Mine - - Arthur PoUen 76 "Seduction" - - - - - - - G.K. Chesterton 78 Murder on the High Seas Arthur Pollen 80 Ad Finem -------- John Oxenham 82 "U'S" --------- Arthur Pollen 84 Mater Dolorosa - Eden Phillpo ts 86 "Gott Strafe Italdzn!" ----- Ralph D. Blumenf eld 88 Serbia - Sir Sidney Lee 90 "Just a Moment — I'm Coming" - Boyd Cable 92 The Holy War Boyd Cable 94 "Gott Mit Uns" ------- Eden Phillpotts 96 The Widows of Belgium The Dean of St. Paul's 98 The Harvest Is Ripe ------ William Mitchell Ramsay 100 "Unmasked" Boyd Cable 102 The Great Surprise G.K. Chesterton 104 Thou Art the Man! John Oxenham 106 Sympathy -------- Ralph D. Blumenfeld 108 The Refugees - - Joseph Thorp 110 "The Junker" ------- Clive Holland 112 "AuMd^euDeFantomesTristesEtSansNombre" Alice Meynell 114 Bluebeard's Chamber ------ William Mitchell Ramsay 116 The Raid -------- Arthur Pollen 118 Better a Living Dog Than a Dead Lion - - Arthur Shadwell 120 "The Burden of the Intolerable Day" - - William Mitchell Ramsay 122 Eagle in Hen-run Boyd Cable 124 The Future -- Sidney Lee 126 Christ or Odin? Bernard Vaughan 128 Ferdinand -------- Edmund Gosse 130 Juggernaut John Oxenham 132 Michael and the Marks W. M. J. Williams 134 Their Beresina ------- John Oxenham 136 New Peace Offers W.L. Courtney 138 The SHffiLDS of Rosselaere William Mitchell Ramsay 140 The Obstinacy of Nicholas - Joseph Thorp 142 The Order of Merit Ralph D. Blumenfeld 144 The Marshes of Pinsk Alice Meynell 146 Cod With Us ------- John Buchan 148 Ferdinand the Chameleon - - - - -G.K. Chesterton 150 The Latin Sisters ------ Horace Annesley Vachell 152 Misunderstood ------- Joseph Thorp 154 Prosperity Reigns in Flanders - - - - Cecil Chesterton 156 The Last Hohenzollern - - - - - E. Charles Vivian 158 Piracy Arthur PoUen 160 "Weeping, She Hath Wept" ... - Father Bernard Vaughan 162 Military Necessity ------ Eden Phillpotts 164 LIST OF CARTOONS AND THE DESCRIPTIVE NOTES PAGE Liberte! Liberte, Cherie! .... JohnOxenham 166 I — "A Knavish Pece of Work" --- - George Birdwood 168 II— "Sisyphus,— His Stone" .... George Birdwood 170 Concrete Foundations A. Shadwett 172 Pallas Athene Herbert Warner 174 The Wonders of Culture Clive Holland 176 "Folk Who Do Not Understand Them" - - Bernard Vaughan 178 On the Way to Calais - Eden Phillpotts 180 Von Bethmann-Hollweg and Truth ... Herbert Warren 182 Van Tromp and De Ruyter Arthur Pollen 184 War and Christ Cecil Chesterton 186 Barbed Whie E. Charles Vivian 188 The Higher Politics Boyd Cable 190 The Loan Game W. M.J. Williams 192 \ War of Rapine - E. Charles Vivian 194 The Dutch Junkers A. ShadweU 196 The War Makers ------ j hn Oxenham 198 The Christmas of Kultur, A.D. 1915 - - A. ShadweU 200 Serbia -- Horace Annesley Vachell 202 The Last of the Race ------ Arthur Pollen 204 The Curriculum ------- w. M. J. Williams 206 The Dutch Journalist to His Belgian Confrere G. K. Chesterton 208 A Bored Critic - - Eden Phillpotts 210 "The Peace Woman" - Clive Holland 212 The Self-satisfed Burgher - - - - W.L. Courtney 214 The Decadent John Oxenham 216 Liquid Fire -------- Clive Holland 218 Nish and Paris - - Sidney Lee 220 Gott Strafe England! ------ Cecil Chesterton 222 The Pacbftcist Kaiser (The Confederates) - Sidney Lee 224 Dinant W.R. Inge 226 "Hesperia" (Wounded FmsT) - H. DeVere Stacpoole 228 Gallipoli - - - - - - - - G.K. Chesterton 230 The Beginning of the Expiation - - -G.K. Chesterton 232 The Shhjkers ------- Sidney Lee 234 One of the Kaiser's Many Mistakes - - - John Oxenham 236 Belgium in Holland Edmund Gosse 238 Serbia William Mitchell Ramsay 240 Jackals in the Political Field - Herbert Warren 242 A Letter from the German Trenches - - Cecil Chesterton 244 His Master's Voice - A. ShadweU 246 Hun Generosity Horace Annesley Vachell 248 Easter, 1915 G.K. Chesterton 250 Pan Germanicus as Peace Maker ... Alfred Stead 252 Gott Mit Uns Cecil Chesterlon 254 Our Lady of Antwerp W.L. Courtney 256 Deportation Cecil Chesterton 258 LIST OF CARTOONS AND THE DESCRIPTIVE NOTES PAGE The German Band John Oxenham 260 Arcades Ambo - - Horace Annesley Vachell 262 "Is It You, Mother?" - - Sidney Lee 264 The Fate of Flemish Art at the Hands of Kultur Arthur Morrison 266 The Graves of All His Hopes - H. DeVere Stacpoole 268 "My Slxth Son Is Now Lying Here— Where Are Yours?" - - H. DeVere Stacpoole 270 Bunkered w.R. Inge 272 Gott Strafe Verdun W.R. Inge 274 The Last Throw e. Charles Vivian 276 The Zeppelin Bag --.-__ dive Holland 278 "Come In, Michael, I Have Had a Long Sleep" Horace Annesley Vachell 280 Five on a Bench - - - - . . - G. K. Chesterton 282 What About Peace, Lads? W.R. Inge 284 The Liberators - - Joseph Thorp 286 Tom Thumb and the Giant E. Charles Vivian 288 "We Have Finished Off the Russians - - E. Charles Vivian 290 Muddle Through ------- ciive Holland 292 My Enemy Is My Best Friend - William Mitchell Ramsay 294 How I Deal With the Small Fry ... ciive Holland 296 The Two Eagles - - A. Shadwell 298 London— Inside the Savoy E . Charles Vivian 300 London— Outside the Savoy .... E . Charles Vivian 302 The Invocation ------- A. Shadwell 304 Introduction IOUIS RAEMAEKERS will stand out for all time as one of the supreme figures which the Great War has called into being. His genius has been enlisted j in the service of mankind, and his work, being entirely sincere and untouched by racial or national prejudice, will endure; indeed, it promises to gain strength as the years advance. When the intense passions, which have been awakened by this world struggle, have faded away, civilization will regard the war largely through these wonderful drawings. Before the war had been in progress many weeks the cartoons in the Amsterdam Telegraaf attracted attention in the capitals of Europe, many leading newspapers reproducing them. The German authorities, quick to realize their full significance, did all in their pov.er to suppress them. Through German intrigue Raemaekers has been charged in the Dutch Courts with endangering the neutrality of Holland and ac- quitted. A price has been set on his head, should he ever venture over the border. When he crossed to England, his wife received anonymous post-cards, warning her that his ship would certainly be torpedoed in the North Sea. The Cologne Gazette, in a leading article on Holland, threatens that country that "after the War Germany will settle accounts with Holland, and for each calumny, for each cartoon of Rae- maekers, she will demand payment with the interest that is due to her." Not since Saul and the men of Israel were in the valley of Elah fighting with the Philistines has so unexpected a champion arisen. With brush and pencil this Dutch painter will do even as David did with the smooth stone out of the brook : he will destroy the braggart Goliath, who, strong in his own might, defies the forces of the living God. When Mr. Raemaekers came to London in December, he was received by the Prime Minister, and was entertained at a complimentary luncheon by the Journalists of the British capital. Similar honour was conferred on him on his second visit. He was the guest of honour at the Savage Club ; the Royal Society of Miniature Painters elected him an Honorary Member. But it has been left to France to pay the most fitting recognition to his genius and to his services in the cause of freedom and truth. The Cross of the Legion of Honour has been presented to him, and on his visit to Paris this month a special reception is to be held in his honour at La Sorbonne, which is the highest purely intellectual reward Europe can confer on any man. The great Dutch cartoonist is now in his forty-seventh year. He was born in Holland, his father, who is dead, having been the editor of a provincial newspaper. His mother, who is still alive and exceedingly proud of her son's fame, is a German INTRODUCTION by birth, but rejoices that she married a Dutchman. Mr. Raemaekers, who is short, fair, and of a ruddy countenance, looks at least ten years younger than his age. He took up painting and drawing when quite young and learnt his art in Holland and in Brussels. All his life he has lived in his own country, but with frequent visits to Belgium and Germany, where, through his mother, he has many relations. Thus he knows by experience the nature of the peoples whom he depicts. For many years he was a landscape painter and a portrait painter, and made money and local reputation. Six or seven yeara ago he turned his attention to political work, and became a cartoonist and caricaturist on the staff of the Amsterdam Telegraaf, thus opening the way to a fame which is not only world-wide but which will endure as long as the memory of the Great War lasts. His ideas come to him naturally and without effort Suggestions do not assist him; they hinder him when he endeavours to act on them. He is an artist to his finger-tips and throws the whole force of his being into his work. Some years ago he married a Dutch lady, who is devoted to music, and they have three children, two girls and a boy (the youngest): the eldest is now twelve. Very happy in his home, Mr. Raemaekers has no ambitions outside it, except to go on with his work. A Teuton paper has declared that Raemaekers' car- toons are worth at least two Army Corps to the Allies. The strong religious tendency which so often distinguishes his work makes one instinctively ask to what Church does the artist belong. He replies that he belongs to none, but was brought up a Catholic, and his wife a Protestant, and the differences which in later life severed each from their early teaching caused them to meet on common ground. But the intense Christian feeling of these drawings is beyond cavil or dispute: they again and again bring home to the heart the vital truths of the Faith with irresistible force, and the artist ever expresses the Christianity, not perhaps of the theologian, but of the honest and kindly man of the world. Praise has been bestowal upon his work by several German papers — qualified praise. The Leipziger VoUtszeitung has declared that Raemaekers' cartoons show unimpeachable art and great power of execution, but that they all lack one thing. They have nowit.no spirit. Which is true — in a sense. They do lack wit — German wit; they do lack spirit — German spirit. And what German wit and German spirit may be one can comprehend by a study of Raemaekers' cartoons. It has been well said that no man living amidst these surging seas of blood and tears has come nearer to the role of Peacemaker than Raemaekers. The Peace which he works for is not a matter of arrangement between diplomatists and politicians: it is the peace which the intelligence and the soul of the Western world shall insist on in the years to be. God grant it be not long delayed, but it can only come when the enemy is entirely overthrown and the victory is overwhelming and complete. Empire House. FRAXCIS STOPFORD, Ejngsway, London. Editor, Land and Water. February, 1916. An Appreciation from the Prime Minister M Downing Street, Whitehall, S. \V R. RAEMAEKERS' powerful work gives form and colour to the menace which the Allies are averting from the liberty, the civilization, and the humanity of the future. He shows us our enemies as they ap- pear to the unbiassed eyes of a neutral, and wherever his pictures are seen determination will be strengthened to tolerate no end of the war save the final overthrow of the Prussian military power. Signed H. H. ASQUITH. Christendom After Twenty Centuries THESE pictures, with their haunting sense of beauty and their biting satire, might almost have been drawn by the finger of the Accusing Angel. As the spectator gazes on them the full weight of the horrible cruelty and senseless futility of war overwhelms the soul, and, sinking helplessly beneath it, he feels inclined to assume the same attitude of despair as is shown in "Christendom After Twenty Centuries." "War is war," the Germans preached and practised, and no matter how clement and correct may be the humanity of the Allies, we realize through these pictures what the human race has to face and endure once peace be broken. Is " Christendom After Twenty Centuries" to be even as Christianity was in the first century— an excuse for the perpetra- tion of mad cruelties by degenerate Caesars or Kaisers (spell it as you will) at their games? Cannot the higher and finer attributes of man- kind be developed and strengthened without this apparently needless waste of agony and life? Is human nature only to be redeemed through the Cross, and must Calvary bear again and again its heavy load of human anguish? One cannot escape from this inner questioning as one gazes on Raemaekers' cartoons. FRANCIS STOPFORD. CHRISTENDOM AFTER TWENTY CENTURIES A Stable Peace WERE I privileged to have a hand at the Peace Conference, my cooperation would take the part of deeds and I should only ask to hang the walls of the council chamber with life-size reproductions of Raemaekers in blood-red frames. For human memory is weak, and as mind of man cannot grasp the mean- ing of a million, so may it well fail to keep steadily before itself the measure of Belgium — the rape and murder, the pillage and plunder, the pretences under which perished women and priests and children, the brutal tyranny — the left hand that beckoned in friendly fashion, the right hand, hidden with the steel. We can very safely leave France to remember Northern France and Russia not to forget Poland; but let Belgium and Serbia be at the front of the British mind and conscience; let her lift her eyes to these scorching pictures when Germany fights with all her cunning for a peace that shall leave Prussia scotched, not killed. Already one reads despondent articles, that the English tradition, to forgive and forget, is going to wreck the peace; and students of psychology fear that within us lie ineradicable qualities that will save the situation for Germany at the end. To suspect such a national weakness is surely to arm against it and see that our contribution to the Peace Conference shall not stultify our contribution to the War. The Germans have been kite-flying for six months, to see which way the wind blows; and when the steady hurricane broke the strings and flung the kites headlong to earth, those who sent them up were sufficiently proclaimed by their haste to disclaim. But when the actual conditions are created and the new "Scrap of Paper" comes to light, since German honour is dead and her oath in her own sight worthless, let it be worthless in our sight also, and let the terms of peace preclude her power to perjure herself again. Make her honest by depriving her of the strength to be dishonest. There is only one thing on earth the German will ever respect, and that is superior force. May Berlin, therefore, see an army of occupation; and may "peace" be a word banished from every Allied tongue until that preliminary condition of peace is accomplished, and Germany sees other armies than her own. Reason has been denied speech in this war; but if she is similarly banished from the company of the peace-makers, then woe betide the constitution of the thing they will create, for a "stable peace" must be the very last desire of those now doomed to defeat. EDEN PHILLPOTTS. 10 A STABLE PEACE The Kaiser: 'And remember, if they do not accept, I deny altogether." 11 The Massacre of the Innocents SOME "neutrals," and even some of the people here in England, still doubt the reality of the German atrocities in Belgium, but Raemaekers has seen and spoken with those to whom the scene depicted in this cartoon is an ugly reality. One who would under- stand it to the full must visualize the hands behind the thrusting rifle butts, and the faces behind the hands, as well as the praying, maddened, despairing, vengeful women of the picture — and must visualize, too, the men thrust back another way, to wait their fate at the hands of these apostles of a civilization of force. Yet even then full realization is impossible; the man whose pencil has limned these faces has only caught a far-off echo of the reality, and thus we who see his picture are yet another stage removed from the full horror of the scene that he gives us. Not on us, in England, have the rifle butts fallen; not for us has it chanced that we should be shepherded "men to the right, women to the left"; not ours the trenched graves and the extremity of shame. Thus it is not for us to speak, as the people of Belgium and Northern France will speak, of the limits of endurance, and of war's last terrors imposed on those whom war should have passed by and left untouched. We gather, dimly and with but a tithe of the feeling that experience can impart, that these extremities of shame and suffering have been imposed on a people that has done no wrong, and we may gain some slight satisfac- tion from the thought that to this nation is apportioned a share in the work of vengeance on the criminals. E. CHARLES VIVIAN. 12 THE MASSACRE OF THE INNOCENTS 'We must do everything in good order — so men to the right, women to the left. 13 Bernhardiism IT IS the most bestial part of this most bestial thing that it is cal- culated and a matter of orders. The private soldier takes his share of the loot, and is generally the instrument of the cold and ordered killing; but it is the officer-class which most profits in goods, and it is the higher command which dictates the policy. It was so in 1870. It is much more so to-day. This note of calculation is particularly to be seen in the fluctua- tions through which that policy has passed. When the enemy was absolutely certain of victory, outnumbering the invader by nearly two to one and sweeping all before him, we had massacres upon mas- sacres: Louvain, Aerschot, the wholesale butchery of Dinant, the Lorraine villages (and in particular the hell of Guebervilliers). Even at the very extremity of his tide of invasion, and in the last days of it, came the atrocities and destruction of Sermaize. In the very act of the defeat which has pinned him and began the process of his destruc- tion he was attempting yet a further repetition of these unnameable things at Senlis under the very gates of Paris. Then came the months when he felt less secure. The whole thing was at once toned down by order. Pillage was reduced to isolated cases, and murder also. Few children suffered. A recovery of confidence throughout his Eastern successes last summer renewed the crimes. Poland is full of them, and the Serbian land as well. In general, you have throughout these months of his ordeal a regular succession, of excess in vileness when he is confident, of re- straint in it when he is touched by fear. This effect of fear upon the dull soul is a characteristic familiar to all men who know their Prussian from history, particularly the wealthier governing classes of Prussia. It is a characteristic which those who are in authority during this war will do well to bear in mind. Properly used, that knowledge may be made an instrument of victory. HILAIRE BELLOG. 14 BERNHARDIISM 'It's all right. If I hadn't done it some one else might." 15 From Liege to Aix-La-Chapelle MOREOVER, by the means of Wisdom I shall obtain im- mortality, and leave behind me an everlasting memorial to them that come after me. "I shall set the people in order, and the nations shall be subject unto me. "Horrible tyrants shall be afraid, when they do but hear of me; I shall be found good among the multitude, and valiant in war." (Wisdom viii. 13, 14, 15.) Wisdom and Wisdom alone could have painted this terrible pic- ture — the most terrible perhaps which Raemaekers has ever done and yet the simplest. That he should have dared to leave almost every- thing to the imagination of the beholder is evidence of the wonderful power which he exercises over the mind of the people. Each of us knows what is in that goods-van and we shudder at its hideous hidden freight, fearing lest it may be disclosed before our eyes. Wisdom is but another name for supreme genius. So apposite are the verses which are quoted here from "The Wisdom of Solomon" in the "Apocrypha" that they seem almost to have been written on Louis Raemaekers. Moreover, this picture brings home to all of us in the most forcible manner possible the full reality of the horror of war. FRANCIS STOPFORD. 16 FROM LIEGE TO A1X-LA-CHAPELLE 17 Spoils for the Victors THE feature that will stamp Prussian War forever, and make this group of campaigns stand out from all others, is the character of its murder and pillage. Of all the historical ignorance upon which the foolish Pacifist's case is founded, perhaps the worst is the conception that these abomi- nations are the natural accompaniment of war. They have attached to war when war was ill organised in type. But the more subject to rule it has become, the more men have gloried in arms, the more they have believed the high trade of soldier to be a pride, the more have they eliminated the pillage of the civilian and the slaughter of the innocent from its actions. Those things belong to violent pas- sion and to lack of reason. Modern war and the chivalric tradition scorned them. The edges of the Germanies have, in the past, been touched by the chivalric tradition: Prussia never. That noblest inheritance of Christ- endom never reached out so far into the wilds. And to Germany, now wholly Prussianized — which will kill us or which we shall kill — soldier is no high thing, nor is their any meaning attached to the word "Glorious." War is for that State a business : a business only to be undertaken with profit against what is certainly weaker; to be undertaken without faith and with a cruelty in proportion to that weakness. In particular it must be a terror to women, to children, and to the aged — for these remain un- armed. This country alone of the original alliance has been spared pillage. It has not been spared murder. But this country, though the process has perhaps been more gradual than elsewhere, is very vividly alive to-day to what would necessarily follow the presence of German soldiery upon English land. HILAIRE BELLOC. 18 %^~ m .^. ~Z' ■ SPOILS FOR THE VICTORS "We must despoil Belgium if only to make room for our own culture. 19 The Very Stones Cry Out IF THE highly organized enemy with whom we are at grips in a life-and-death struggle would only play the war game in ac- cordance with the rules drawn up by civilized peoples, he would, indeed, command our admiration no less than our respect. Never on this earth was there such a splendid fighting machine as that "made in Germany." The armies against us are the last word in discipline, fitness, and equipment; and are led by men who, born in barracks, weaned on munitions, have but one aim and end in view — "World- Dominion or Downfall." As a matter of fact, instead of winning our admiration they have drawn our detestation. Not content with brushing aside all inter- national laws of warfare, they have trampled upon every law, human and divine, standing in their way of conquest. Indeed, Germany's method of fighting would disgrace the savages of Central Africa. Prussianized Germany has the monopoly of "frightfulness." When not "frightful," Prussian troopers are not living down to the instruc- tions of their War-lords to leave the conquered with nothing but eyes to weep with. Not content to crucify Canadians, murder priests, vio- late nuns, mishandle women, and bayonet children, the enemy tor- pedoes civilian-carrying liners, and bombs Red Cross hospitals. More, sinning against posterity as well as antiquity, Germans stand charged before man and God with reducing to ashes some of the finest artistic output of Christian civilization. When accused of crimes such as these, Germany answers through her generals: "The commonest, ugliest stone put to mark the burial-place of a German grenadier is a more glorious and venerable monument than all the cathedrals of Europe put together" (General von Disfurth in Hamburger Nachrich- ten). "Thus is fulfilled the well-known prophecy of Heine: 'When once that restraining talisman, the Cross, is broken . . . Thor, with his colossal hammer, will leap up, and with it shatter into frag- ments the Gothic cathedrals' " (Religion and Philosophy in Germany in the Nineteenth Century). What, I ask, can you do with such people but either crush or civilize them? The very stones cry out against them. BERNARD VAUGHAN, S.J. 20 •J .OLMSL H^cjemn*- U THE VERY STONES CRY OUT 21 Satan's Partner THE cartoon bears the quotation from Bernhardi "War is as divine as eating and drinking." Yes; and German war is as divine as German eating and drinking. Any one who has been in a German restaurant during that mammoth midday meal which generally precedes a sleep akin to a hibernation, will understand how the same strange barbarous solemnity has ruined all the real romance of war. There is no way of conveying the distinction, except by saying vaguely that there is a way of doing things, and that butchering is not necessary to a good army any more than gobbling is necessary to a good dinner. In our own insular shorthand it can be, insufficiently and narrowly but not unprofitably, expressed by saying that it is possible both to fight and to eat like a gentleman. It is therefore highly significant that Mr. Raemaekers has in this cartoon conceived the devil primarily as a kind of ogre. It is a matter of great interest that this Dutch man of genius, like that other genius whose pencil war has turned into a sword, Will Dyson, tends in the presence of Prussia (which has been for many moderns their first glimpse of absolute or positive evil) to depriving the devil of all that moonshine of dignity which sentimental sceptics have given him. Evil does not mean dignity, any more than it means any other good thing. The stronger caricaturists have, in a sense, fallen back on the medieval devil; not because he is more mystical, but because he is more material. The face of Raemaekers' Satan, with its lifted jowl and bared teeth, has less of the half-truth of cynicism than of mere ignominious greed. The armies are spread out for him as a banquet; and the war which he praises, and which was really spread for him in Flanders, is not a Crusade but a cannibal feast. G. K. CHESTERTON. 22 SATAN'S PARTNER Bernhardt "War is as divine as eating and drinking Satan: "Here is a partner for me." 23 Thrown to the Swine THE Germans have committed many more indefensible crimes than the military execution of the kind-hearted nurse who had helped war-prisoners to escape. They have murdered hun- dreds of women who had committed no offence whatever against their military rules. But though not the worst of their misdeeds, this has probably been the stupidest. It gained us almost as many recruits as the sinking of the Lusitania, and it made the whole world understand — what is unhappily the truth — that the German is wholly destitute of chivalry. He knows indeed that people of other nations are af- fected by this sentiment; but he despises them for it. Woman is the weaker vessel ; and therefore, according to his code, she must be taught to know her place, which is to cook and sew, and produce "cannon- fodder" for the Government. Readers of Schopenhauer and Nietzsche will remember the advice given by those philosophers for the treatment of women. Nietzsche recommends a whip. It never occurred to German officialdom that the pedantic condemnation of one obscure woman, guilty by the letter of their law, would stir the heart of Eng- land and America to the depths, and steel our soldiers to further efforts against an enemy whose moral unlikeness to ourselves becomes more apparent with every new phase in the struggle. THE DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S. 24 THROWN TO THE SWINE The Martyred Nurse. 25 The Land Mine WHAT does this cartoon suggest? I am asked and I ask my- self. At first very little, almost nothing, only uninteresting, ugly death, gloomy, ghastly, dismal, but dull and largely featureless, blank and negative. Has the artist's power failed him? No, it is strongly drawn. Has his inspiration? What does it mean? Is it indeed meant? As I gaze and pore on it longer, I seem to see that it is just in this blank negation that its strength and its suggestion lie. It is meant. It has meaning. A blast has passed over this place, and this is its sequel, its derelict rubbish. It is death unredeemed, death with no very positive suggestion, with no hint of heroism, none of heroic action, little even of heroic passion; just death, helpless, hopeless, pointing to nothing but decom- position, decay, disappearance, aneantissement, reduction of the fair frame of life to nothingness. That is the peculiar horror of this war. Were the picture, as it well might be, even more hideous, and did it suggest something more definite, a story of struggle, say, recorded in contortion, or by wounds and weapons, it might be better. But men killed by machines, men killed by natural forces un- naturally employed, are indeed a fact and a spectacle squalid, sorry, unutterably sad. All wars have been horrible, but modern wars are more in ex- tremes. Heroism is there, but not always. It is possible only in patches. There is much of the mere sacrifice of numbers. Strictly, there are scenes far worse than this, for death unredeemed is not the worst of sufferings or of ills. But few are sadder. This is indeed war made by those who hold it and will it to be "not a sport, but a science." There is no sport here. Men killed like this are like men killed by plague or the eruption of a volcano. And, indeed, what else are they? They are victims of a diseased humanity of the eruption — literal and metaphorical — of its hidden fires. And wars will grow more and more like this. What can stop them and banish these scenes? Only the hate of hate, only the love that can redeem even such a sight as this when at last we remember that it is for love's sake only that flesh and blood are in the last retort content to endure it. HERBERT WARREN. 26 THE LAND MINE 27 ''For Your Motherland ?? England's your Mother! Let your life acclaim Her precious heart's blood flowing in your heart; Take ye the thunder of her solemn name Upon your lips with reverence; play your part By word and deed To shield and speed The far-flung splendour of her ancient fame. England's your Mother! Shall not you, her child, Quicken the everlasting fires that glow Upon your birthright's altar? England smiled Beside your cradle, trusting you to show, With manhood's might, The undying light That points the road her free-born spirits England's your Mother! Man, forget it not Wherever on the wide-wayed earth your fate Calls you to labour; whatsoe'er your lot — In service, or in power, in stress or state — Whate'er betide, With humble pride, Remember! By your Mother you are great. England's your Mother! What though dark the day Above the storm-swept frontier that you tread? Her vanished children throng the glorious way; A myriad legions of her living dead — ■ Those starry trains That shared your pains — Shall set their crown of light upon your head. England's your Mother! When the race is run And you are called to leave your life and die, Small matter what is lost, so this be won: An after-glow of blessed memory, Gracious and pure, In witness sure " England was this man's Mother: he, her son." EDEN PHILLPOTTS. 28 'MY SON, GO AND FIGHT FOR YOUR MOTHERLAND!' 29 The German Loan THE bubble is very nicely balanced, for German "kultur," which is in reality but another word for "system" or "organ- ization," rather than that which English-speaking people under- stand by "culture," has built up a system of internal credit that shall ensure the correct balance of the bubble— for just as long as the mili- tarist policy of Germany can endure the strain of war. But money alone is not sufficient for victory; the peasant hard put to it to suppress his laugh, and the crowned Germania that built up the paper pedestal of the bubble, needed many other things to make that pedestal secure; there was needed integrity, and the respect of neighbouring nations, and the understanding of other points of view beside the doctrine of force, and liberty instead of coercion of a whole nation, and many other things that the older civilizations of Europe have accepted as parts of their code of life — the things this new, upstart Germany has not had time to learn. Thus, with the paper credit — and even with the gold reserve of which Germany has boasted, the pedestal is but paper. And the winds that blow from the flooded, corpse-strewn districts of the Yser, from Artois, from Champagne and the Vosges hills and forests, and from the long, long line of Russia's grim defences — these winds shall blow it away, leaving a nation bankrupt not only in money, but in the power to coerce, in the power to inspire fear, and in all those things out of which the Hohenzollern dynasty has built up the last empire of force. E. CHARLES VIVIAN. 30 I— J — >00|S. |~\or,v:Qe(s^= THE GERMAN LOAN "Don't breathe on the bubble or the whole will collapse.' 31 Europe, 1916 THERE are some English critics who have not yet considered so simple a thing as that the case against horrors must be hor- rible. In this respect alone this publication of the work of the distinguished foreign cartoonist is a thing for our attention and enlightenment. It is the whole point of the awful experience which has to-day swallowed up all our smaller experiences, that we are in any case confronted with the abominable; and the most beautiful thing we can hope to show is only an abomination of it. Nevertheless, there is horror and horror. The distinction between brute exaggeration and artistic emphasis could hardly be better studied than in Mr. Rae- maekers' cartoon, and the use he makes of the very ancient symbol of the wheel. Europe is represented as dragged and broken upon the wheel as in the old torture; but the wheel is that of a modern cannon, so that the dim background can be filled in with the suggestion of a wholly modern machinery. This is a very true satire; for there are many scientific persons who seem to be quite reconciled to the crushing of humanity by a vague mechanical environment in which there are wheels within wheels. But the inner restraint of the artist is sug- gested in the treatment of the torment itself; which is suggested by a certain rending drag in the garments, while the limbs are limp and the head almost somnolent. She does not strive nor cry; neither is her voice heard in the streets. The artist had not to draw pain but to draw despair; and while the pain is old enough the particular despair is modern. The victim racked for a creed could at least cry "I am converted." But here even the terms of surrender are unknowable; and she can only ask "Am I civilized?" G. K. CHESTERTON. 32 irsFvcitffna^*;^ EUROPE, 1916 'Am I not yet sufficiently civilized ? " 33 The Next to Be Kicked Out — Dumbas Master UNCLE SAM is no longer the simple New England farmer of a century ago. He is rich beyond calculation. His family is more numerous than that of any European country save Russia. His interests are world-wide, his trade tremendous, his industry complex, his finance fabulous. Above all, his family is no longer of one race. The hatreds of Europe are not echoed in his house; they are shared and reverberate through his corridors. It is difficult, then, for him to take the simple views of right and wrong, of justice and humanity, that he took a century ago. He is tempted to balance a hundred sophistries against the principles of freedom and good faith that yet burn strongly within him. He is driven to tem- porize with the evil thing he hates, because he fears, if he does not, that his household will be split, and thus the greater evil befall him. But those that personify the evil may goad him once too often. Dumba the lesser criminal — as also the less dexterous — has betrayed himself and is expelled. When will Bernstorff's turn come? That it will come, indeed must come, is self-evident. The artist sees things too clearly as they are not to see also what they will be. He therefore skips the ignoble interlude of prevarication, quibble, and intrigue, and gives us Uncle Sam happy at last in his recovered simplicity. So we see him here, enjoying himself, as only a white man can, in a whole- hearted spurning of lies, cruelty, and murder. Note that Bernstorff — the victim of a gesture "fortunately rare amongst gentlemen" — is already in full flight through the air, while Uncle Sam's left foot has still fifteen inches to travel. The promise of an added velocity indicates that the flight of the unmasked diplo- matist will be far. The sketched vista of descending steps gives us the satisfaction of knowing that the drop at the end will be deep. Every muscle of our sinewy relative is tense, limp, and projectile — the mouth- piece of Prussia goes to his inevitable end. There is no need of a sequel to show him shattered and crumpled at the bottom of the stairway. ARTHUR POLLEN. 34 i. ! !»■!■» IHvW X THE NEXT TO BE KICKED OUT— DUMBA'S MASTER 35 The Friendly Visitor RAEMAEKERS is never false, and he never works for effect alone. That is what makes him so terrible to the people he criticises, and so effective. When he wants to depict the sturdy Dutch soul he draws a sturdy Dutch Body — ready to defend her home. No flags, no highfalutin, no symbolical figure posed for show; just cleanliness, determination, and good sense facing bestiality and oppression. The figure that stands for the Freedom of the Home opposed to the figure that stands for the Freedom of the Seas. Many an Englishman might take this picture to heart. H. DE VERE STACPOOLE. 36 THE FRIENDLY VISITOR The German : " I come as a friend." Holland : "Oh, yes. I've heard that from my Belgian sister. 37 ' To Your Health, Civilization ! ? THIS terrible cartoon points its own lesson so forcibly that its effect is more likely to be weakened than strengthened by any verbal comment. Death quaffs a goblet of human blood to the health of Civilization. Death has never enjoyed such a carnival of slaughter before, and it is Civilization that has made the holocaust possible. The comparatively simple methods of killing employed by barbarians could not have destroyed so many lives; nor could bar- barian states have raised such huge armies. The artist makes us feel that such a war as this is an act of moral madness, a disgrace to our common humanity. It is true that some of the nations engaged are guiltless, and others almost guiltless; but there is a solidarity of Euro- pean civilization which obliges us all to share the shame and sorrow of this monstrous crime. Universal war is the reductio ad absurdum of false political theories and false moral ideals; and the reductio ad absurdum is the chief argument which Providence uses with mankind. Perhaps it is the only argument which mankind in the mass can under- stand. THE DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S. 38 "TO YOUR HEALTH, CIVILIZATION!" 39 Fox Tirpitz Preaching to the Geese THERE is nothing more pathetic in some ways to-day than the position of the small neutral countries in Europe, and especially those which directly adjoin Germany. And there is nothing more galling than the inability of the Allies to give them any help. For the hour they are absolutely at the mercy of Germany, or would be, if she had any, and they know it. They are certainly liable and exposed to all her flouts and cuffs and to any displays of bad temper or bullying or terrorism it may please her to exercise. And none perhaps is worse off in this respect than Holland. It suits Germany to be fairly civil to Switzerland, who could give her a good deal of trouble by joining France and Italy; and no doubt it suits her too to some extent to consider Denmark, for Denmark commands the entrance to the Baltic; and, further, Germany does not wish to bring all Scandinavia down upon herself just at present. That can wait; but Holland is in the worst plight of all. She has the terrible spectacle of Belgium, ruined and ravaged, just on the other side of the way. And she has a very con- siderable and valuable mercantile marine. The great and good Germany cannot be troubled to distinguish between Dutch and other boats, and if occasionally a Dutch ship is captured or sent to the bottom, it is a useful reminder of what she might do to her "poor relation" if she really let herself go. Fighting for the freedom of the seas! Holland has fought for them herself. Holland has a great naval tradition. She knows quite well what Eng- land has been and is. She knows too, and can see, how her sons and brothers in South Africa were treated by the British in England's last war, and how they regard England and Germany now. Raemaekers' cartoon is very skilful. If we had not seen it done, we should not have believed it possible to produce at once so clever a likeness of Von Tirpitz and so excellent an old fox. But the goose is by no means a foolish bird, though its wisdom may sometimes be shown in knowing its own weakness. It was they, and not the watch- dogs, that saved the Capitol. In old days it was the custom to call the Germans the "High Dutch" and the inhabitants of Holland the "Low Dutch." It was a geographical distinction. The contrast in moral elevation is the other way. HERBERT WARREN. 40 . FOX T1RPITZ PREACHING TO THE GEESE You see, my little Dutch geese, I am fighting for the freedom of the seas. (The Germans illegally captured several Dutch ships.) 41 The Prisoners A VILE feature of German "f rightfulness" is this: that she mixes poison with her prisoners' rations. Not content with starving their bodies, she hides truth from them and floods their minds with lies. Those in command — officers, educated men, claiming the service of their soldiers and civil guard and the respect of their nation — deliberately hash a daily meal of falsehood and serve up German victories and triumphs on land and sea as sauce to the starvation diet of their defenceless captives. In the earlier months of the war, while yet the spiritual slough into which Germany had sunk was unguessed, and the mixture of child and devil exemplified by " f rightfulness " continued unfathomed, these daily lies undoubtedly answered their cowardly purpose, cast down the spirit of thousands, and added another pang to their captivity. But our armies know better now, and those diminishing numbers likely to be taken prisoner in the future see the end more clearly than the foe can. Lies will be met with laughter henceforth, for our enemies have put themselves beyond the pale. They may starve and insult our bodies; but their power to poison our brains has passed from them forever. We know them at last. They have spun a web of barbed villainy between their souls and ours; and the evil committed for one foul purpose alone — to terrify free men and break the spirit of the sons of liberty — has produced results far different and created a situation more terrible for them than for their outraged enemies. For in this matter of misrepresentation and lying, born of Prussia and by her spoon-fed pack of martinets, professors, and Churchmen, mingled with Germany's daily bread for a generation, it is she and not we who will reap the whirlwind of that sowing; it is she and not we who must soon pant and tear the breast in the pangs of the poison. Between the mad and the sane there can be only one victor; and when the time comes, may Germany's robe of repentance be a strait- waistcoat of the Allies' choosing. For she has drunk deep of the poison, and those who anticipate a speedy cure will be as mad as she. When the escaped tigress is back in her cage, men look to the bars, for none wants a second mauling. EDEN PHILLPOTTS. 42 THE PRISONERS 43 Ifs Unbelievable I AM not sure that in this cartoon of Raemaekers the most pleasing detail is not the servant's right eye. Yon will observe in that servant's right eye an expression familiar in those who over- hear this sort of comment upon the peculiar bestialities of the Prus- sian in Belgium and Poland, this extenuation of his baseness. When the war was young the opportunity for giving that glance was com- moner than it is now. There were many even in a belligerent country who would tell you in superior fashion how foolishly exaggerated were the so-called "atrocities." The greater number of such men (and women) talked of "two Germanies" — one the nice Germany they knew and loved so well, and the other apparently nasty Germany which raped, burned, stole, broke faith, tortured, and the rest. Their number has diminished. But there is a little lingering trace of the sort of thing still to be discovered : men and women who hope against hope that the Prussian will really prove good at heart after all. And it is usually just after some expression of the kind that the most appalling news arrives with a terrible irony to punctuate their folly. It reminds one a little of the man in the story who was sure that he could tame a wild cat, and was in the act of recording its virtues when it flew in his face. To an impartial observer who cared nothing for our sufferings or the enemy's vices, there would be something enormously comic in the vision of these few remaining (for there are still some few remaining) that approach the wild beast with soothing words and receive as their only reward a very large bomb through the roof of their house, or the news that some one dear to them has been murdered on the high seas. But to those actively suffering in the struggle the comic element is difficult to seize, and it is replaced by indignation. This fantastic misconception of the thing that is being fought is bound to be burned right out by the realities of the enemy acts in belligerent countries. It will be similarly destroyed — and that in no very great space of time — in all neutral countries as well. Prussia will have it so. She is allowing no moral defence to remain for her future. It is almost as though the men now directing her affairs lent ear carefully to every word spoken in praise of them abroad, and met it at once by the tremendous denial of example. It is almost as though the Prussian felt it a sort of per- sonal insult to receive the praise of dupes and fools, and perhaps it is. HILAIRE BELLOC. 44 IT'S UNBELIEVABLE Dutch Officer : " How can they have soiled their hands by such atrocities?" She : " Can they have done it, my dear? German officers are so nice." 45 Kreuzland, Kreuzland JJber Alles THIS war has produced examples of every kind of misery which human beings can inflict upon each other, except one. Europe has mercifully been spared long sieges of populous towns, ending in the surrender of the starving population. But many towns and villages have been burnt; and masses of refugees have fled before the invader, knowing too well the brutal treatment which they had to expect if they remained. Very many of the unhappy Belgians have taken refuge in Holland; a considerable number have found an asylum in this country. They are homeless and ruined ; if the war were to end to-morrow, many of them would not know where to go or how to live. Families have been broken up; husbands and wives, parents and chil- dren, are ignorant of each other's fate. In this picture we see a crowd of children, herded together like a flock of sheep, with nobody to take care of them. Their via dolorosa is marked by long rows of crosses on either side, emblems of suffering, death, and sacrifice. In the distance rise the smoke and flames from one of the innumerable incendiary fires which the Germans, like the cruel banditti of the Middle Ages, have kindled wherever they go. THE DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S. 46 KREUZLAND, KREUZLAND UBER ALLES Belgium, 19 14: " Where are our fathers ? " 47 The Ex-convict PRUSSIA in every war has betrayed that peculiar mark of bar- barism consisting in using the intellectual weapons of a superior, but not knowing how to use them. It is still a matter of mys- tery to the directing Prussian mind why the sinking of the Lusitania should have shocked the world. A submarine cannot take a prize into port. The Lusitania happened to be importing goods available in war, therefore the Lusitania must be sunk. All the penumbrse of further consideration which the civilized man weighs escape this sort of logic. Similarly, the Prussian argues, if an armed man is prepared to surrender, convention decrees that his life should be spared. There- fore, if an armed man be just fresh from the murder of a number of children, he has but to cry "Kamerad" to be perfectly safe. And Prussia foams at the mouth with indignation whenever this strict rule of conduct is forgotten in the heat of the moment. The use of poison in the field which Prussia for the first time employed (and reluctantly compelled her civilized opponents to reply to) is in the same boat. A shell bursts because solid explosive becomes gaseous. To use shell which in bursting wounds and kills men is to use gas in war; therefore if one uses gas in the other form of poison, disabling one's opponent with agony, it is all one. Precisely the same barbaric use of logic — which reminds one of the antics of an animal imitating human gestures — will later apply to the poisoning of water supplies, or the spreading of an epidemic. It is soldierly and excites no contempt or indignation to strike at your enemy with a sword or shoot a pellet of lead at him in such a fashion that he dies. What is all this foolish pother about killing him with bacilli in his cisterns or with a drop of poison in his tea? Men in war have burned groups of houses with the torch in anger or for revenge. Why distinguish between that and the methodical sprinkling of petroleum from a hose by one gang and the equally methodical burning of the whole town house by house with little capsules of pre- pared incendiary stuff? The rule always applies — but only against the opponent : never to one's self. From that attitude of mind the Prus- sian will never emerge. We shall, please God, see that mood in all its beauty in later stages of the war, when the coercion of the Prussian upon his own soil leads to acts indefensible by Prussian logic. We have already had a taste of this sort of reasoning when the royalties fled from Karlsruhe and when the murderers upon the sinking Zeppelin received the reward due to men who boast that they will not keep faith. HILAIRE BELLOC. 48 THE EX-CONVICT " 1 was a ' lifer,' but they found I had many abilities for bringing civilization amongst our neighbours, so now 1 am a soldier." 49 Miss Cavell MOST of the English caricaturists are much too complimentary to the German Emperor. They draw his moustaches, but not his face. Now his moustaches are exactly what he, or the whole Prussian school he represents, particularly wishes us to look at. They give him the fierce air of a fighting cock; and however little we may like fierceness, there will always be a certain residual respect for fighting, even in a cock. Now the Junker moustache is a fake; almost as much so as if it were stuck on with gum. It is, as Mr. Belloc has remarked, curled in a machine all night lest it should hang down. Raemaekers, in the sketch which shows the Kaiser as waiting for Nurse Cavell's death to say, "Now you can bring me the American protest," has gone behind the moustache to the face, and behind the face to the type and the spirit. The Emperor is not com- manding in a lordly voice from a throne, but with a leer and behind a curtain. In the few lines of the lean, unnatural face is written the real history of the Hohenzollerns, the kind of history not often touched on in our comfortable English humour, but common to the realism of Continental art: the madness of Frederick William, the perversion of Frederick the Great, the hint, mingled with subtler talents, of the mere idiocy that seems to have flowered again in the last heir of that in- human house. The Hohenzollerns have varied from generation to generation in many things and like many families; some of them have been tyrants, some of them geniuses, some of them merely boobies; but they have shared in something more than that hereditary policy which has been the poison in Christendom for tw r o hundred years. There is a ghost who inhabits these perishing tenements, and in such a picture as this of Raemaekers men can see it looking out of the eyes. And it is neither the spirit of a tyrant nor of a booby; but the spirit of a sly invalid. G. K. CHESTERTON. 50 MISS CAVELL William : " Now you can bring me the American protest." 51 The Hostages AY, boy — you may well ask. /\ And the world asks also, and in due time will exact an answer — to yY the last drop of innocent blood. What have you done? You have fallen into the hands of the most scientifically organized barbarism the world has ever seen, or, please God, ever will see — to whom, of deliberate choice, such words as truth, honour, mercy, justice, have become dead letters, by reason of the pernicious doctrines on which the race has been nourished — by which its very soul has been poisoned. Dead letters? — worn-out rags, the very virtues they once represented, even in Germany, long since flung to the dust-heaps of the past in the soulless scramble for power and a place in the sun which no one denied her. Deliberately, and of malice prepense, the military caste of Prussia has taught, and the unhappy common-folk have accepted, that as a nation they are past all that kind of thing. There is only one right in the world — the might of the strongest. The weak to the wall ! Make way for the Hun, whose god is power, and his high- priests the Kaiser and the Krupps. And so, every nation, even the smallest, on whom the eye of the Minotaur has settled in baleful desire, has said, "Better to die fighting than fall into the hands of the devil!" And they have fought — valiantly, and saved their souls alive, though their bodies may have been crushed out of existence by overwhelming odds. As nations, however, they shall rise again, and with honour, when their treacherous torturers have been crushed in their turn. And, wherever the evil tide has welled over a land, indemnities, incredible and unreasonable, have been exacted, and hostages for their payment, and for good behaviour under the yoke meanwhile, have been taken. Woe unto such! In many cases they have simply been shot in cold blood — murdered as brazenly as by any Jack-the-Ripper. Murder, too, of the most despicable — murder for gain — the gain that should accrue through the brutal terrorism of the act and its effect on the rest. And, if deemed advisable to gloss the crime with some thin veneer of imitation justice for the — unsuccessful — hoodwinking of a shocked and astounded world, what easier than an unseen shot in some obscure corner from a German rifle? Then — "Death to the hostages! — destruction to the village! — a fine of £100,000 on the town!" Those provocative shots from German rifles have surely been the most profit- ably engineered basenesses in the whole war. They have justified — but in German eyes only — every committable crime, and they cost nothing — except the souls of their perpetrators. "It's your money we want — and your land — and your property — and, if necessary, your lives! You are weak — we are strong — and so !" That is the simple Credo of the Hun. But for all these things there shall come a day of reckoning and the account will be a heavy one. May it be exacted to the full — from the rightful debtors! "What have you done?" You have at all events put the rope round the necks of your murderers, and the whole world's hands are at the other end of it. JOHN OXENHAM. 52 1 isyls^Sini Q£. THE GERMAN TANGO " From East to West and West to East I dance with thee! ! 59 The Zeppelin Triumph WHEN the future historian gives to another age his account of all that is included in German "frightfulness," there is no feature upon which he will dilate more emphatically than the extraordinary use made by the enemy of their Zeppelin fleet. In the experience we have gained in the last few months we discover that the Zeppelins are not employed — or, at all events, not mainly employed — for military purposes, but in order to shake the nerves of the non-combatant population. The history of the last few Zeppelin raids in Eng- land is quite sufficient testimony to this fact. London is bombarded, although it is an open city, and a large amount of damage is done to buildings wholly unconnected with the purposes of the war. The persons who are killed are not soldiers, they are civilians; the buildings destroyed are not munition works, but dwelling- houses, and some of the points of attack are theatres. The same thing has happened in the provinces. In the last raid over the Midlands railway stations were destroyed, some breweries were injured, but, with exceedingly few exceptions, munition works and factories for the production of arms were untouched. Here again the victims are not either soldiers or sailors, or even workmen employed in turning out instruments of war, but peaceable citizens and a large proportion of women and children. Some such act of brutality is illustrated in the accompanying cartoon. A private house has been attacked, the mother has been killed, the father and child are left desolate. The little daughter at her father's knee, who cannot under- stand why guiltless people should suffer, asks the importunate question whether her mother had done anything wrong to deserve so terrible a fate. To the childish mind it seems incomprehensible that aimless and indiscriminate murder should fall on the guiltless. Indeed the mother had done no wrong. She only happened to belong to one of the nations who are struggling against a barbaric tyranny. In that reckless crusade which the Central Powers are waging against all the higher laws of morality and civilization, some of the heaviest of the blows fall on the defenceless. It is this appalling inhumanity, this godless desire to maim and wound and kill, which nerves the arms of the Allies, who know that in a case like this they are fighting for freedom and for the Divine laws of mercy and loving-kindness. And it is for the young especially that the war is being waged, young boys and young girls like the motherless child in the picture, in order that they may inherit a Europe which shall be free from the horrible burden of German militarism, and be able to live useful lives in peace and quietness. No, little girl, mother did no wrong ! But we should be guilty of the deepest wrong if we did not avenge her death and that of other similar victims by making such unparalleled crimes impossible hereafter. W. L. COURTNEY. 60 THE ZEPPELIN TRIUMPH But Mother had done nothing wrong, had she, Daddy?" 61 T Keeping Out the Enemy HE Prussian turns everything to account, from the scrapings of the pig-trough to the Austrian Emperor. The Bavarian lists, the Saxon lists, the Austrian lists — these are all only indications of injuries to the Prussian's life-saving waistcoat. If this war is to be a war to the last penny and the last man, the last Austrian will die before the last Saxon, the last Saxon before the last Bavarian, the last Bavarian before the last Prussian — and the last Prussian will not die: he will live to clutch at the last penny. And the pity of it is that the Austrian is quite a good fellow, the Saxon is a decent sort of man, the Bavarian is chiefly a brute in drink, whilst the Prussian — we all know what the Prussian is, the black centre of hardness, the incarnation of the shady trick, and the very complex soul of mechanical efficiency. The Hohenzollern here makes a sandbag of the Hapsburg, of whom Fate has already made a football. Fate has always been behind the Hapsburg for his own sins and those of his house. She has made him kneel at last. H. DE VERE STACPOOLE. 62 '.■ u i s l~^\ a «■ m nrk> ' . r . " You see how I manage to keep the enemy out of my country 63 The German Offer THE German claim — not the Austrian nor the Turk, for the alliance following Germany is to be allowed little force — is that, the civilization of Europe now being defeated, a Roman pride may be generous to the fallen. Before modern Germany is routed, as may be seen in the features of its citizens, the nobility of its public works, and the admirable, restrained, and classic sense of its literature, this generosity to a humbled world will take the form of letting nations, of right independent, enjoy some measure of freedom under a German suzerainty. In the matter of property the magnanimous descendants of Frederick and William the Great will restore the machines which cannot be wrenched from their concrete beds, and the walls of the manufactories. More liquid property, such as jewellery, furniture, pictures — and coin — it will be more difficult to trace. In any case, Europe may breathe again, though with a shorter breath than it did before Germany conquered at the Marne. . . . This is the majestic vision which the subtle diplomats of Berlin present to the admiration of the neutral Powers, happily free from wicked passions of war, and not blinded, as are the British, French, Russians, Italians, Belgians, and the Serbians, by petty spite. Their audience, their triple audience, is part of Greece, some of the public of Spain, and sections of that of the United States. To the French and the British armies in the West, to the Russians in the East, and to the Italians upon their frontiers, the terms appear insufficient. Therein would seem to lie the gravity of Prussia's case. These belligerent Powers will go so far as to demand more than the mere restoration of stolen property, from cottage furni- ture to freedom. And their anger has risen so high that they even propose to make the acquirer of these goods suffer very bitterly indeed. What plea he will then raise under discomforts more serious than those he has caused to the peasants of Flanders and of Poland, and how those pleas will affect his neutral audience, will have no effect whatever on the result of the war, or on his own unpleasing fate. Those appeals will have a certain interest, however, because we know from the past that the German mind is unstable. Within fifteen short months it proposed the annihilation of the French armies and the occupation of Paris. It failed. It next offered terms upon suffering defeat. It withdrew them. It next made certain at least of a conquest of Russia, failed again, offered terms again, withdrew them again; was directed to the blockading of England, failed; thought Egypt better, and then changed its mind. It was but yesterday in the mood that this cartoon suggests; to-morrow its mood will have utterly changed again, probably to a whine, perhaps to a scream. Such instability is rare in the history of nations which purpose a conquest of others, and it is a very poor furniture for the mind. HILAIRE BELLOC. 64 The German : "If you will let me keep what I have, I will let you go." 65 The Wolf Trap THE wolf is not perhaps the beast by which one would most wish one's country to be represented. But the wolf, like every animal when defending its dearest, and when assailed with treachery, has its nobility. And the Roman she-wolf certainly has had in all ages her dignity and her force. "Thy nurse will hear no master, Thy nurse will bear no load, And woe to them that spear her, And woe to them that goad. When all the pack loud baying Her bloody lair surrounds, She dies in silence biting hard Amidst the dying hounds." Italy certainly calls not only for our sympathy, but for our admira- tion. She has had a very difficult course to steer. The ally for so long of Germany and Austria, if owing them less and less as time went on, it was difficult for her to break with them. But the day came when she had to break with them, and once again "act for herself." She told them a year ago she would be a party to no aggressive or selfish war, she would be no bully's accomplice. She "denounced" — it is a good word — such a compact. Non haec in fcedera veni. Then it was, when the she-wolf showed her teeth, that they offered to give her what was her own. But what would the Trentino be worth if Germany and Austria were victorious? No, the wolf is right, "she must fight for it," and behind Austria's underhanded treachery stands Germany's open violence and guns. And Italy loves freedom. This war is a war made by her people. As of old her King and her diplomats go with them in this new Resorgi- mento. And the she-wolf must beware the trap. She needs the spirit again not only of her people and of Garibaldi and of Victor Emmanuel, but of Cavour. And she has it. The cartoon suggests all the elements of the situation. The wolf ponders with turned head, half doubtful, half desperate. The poor little cub whimpers pitifully. The hunters dissemble their craft, the trap waits in the path ready to spring. It is not even concealed. Is that the irony of the artist, or is it only due to the necessity of making his meaning plain? Whichever it is, it is justified. HERBERT WARREN. 66 THE WOLF TRAP " You would make me believe that 1 shall have my cub given back to me, but 1 know I shall have to fight for it." 67 Ahasuerus II THE legend of the Wandering Jew obsessed the imagination of the Middle Age. The tale, which an Armenian bishop first told at the Abbey of St. Albans, concerned a doorkeeper in the house of Pontius Pilate — or, as some say, a shoemaker in Jerusalem — who insulted Christ on His way to Calvary. He was told by Our Lord, " I will rest, but thou shalt go on till the Last Day." Christendom saw the strange figure in many places — at Hamburg and Leipsic and Lubeck, at Moscow and Madrid, even at far Bagdad. Goodwives in the little mediaeval cities, hastening homeward against the rising storm, saw a bent figure posting through the snow, with haggard face and burning eyes, carrying his load of penal immortality, and seeking in vain for "easeful death." There is a profound metaphysic in such popular fancies. Good and evil are alike eternal. Arthur and Charle- magne and Ogier the Dane are only sleeping and will yet return to save their peoples; and the Wandering Jew staggers blindly through the ages, seeking the rest which he denied to his Lord. In George Meredith's "Odes in Contribution to the Song of French History" there is a famous passage on Napoleon. France, disillu- sioned at last, " Perceives him fast to a harsher Tyrant bound; Self-ridden, self -hunted, captive of his aim; Material gradeur's ape, the Infernal's hound." That is the penalty of mortal presumption. The Superman who would shatter the homely decencies of mankind and set his foot on the world's neck is himself bound captive. He is the slave of the djinn whom he has called from the unclean deeps. There can be no end to his quest. Weariness does not bring peace, for the whips of the Furies are in his own heart. The Wandering Jew of the Middle Age was a figure sympathetically conceived. He had still to pay the price in his tortured body, but his soul was at rest, for he had repented his folly. Raemaekers in his cartoon follows the conception of Gustave Dore rather than that of the old fabulists. The modern Ahasuerus has no surety of an eventual peace. We have seen the German War Lord flitting hungrily from Lorraine to Poland, from Flanders to Nish, watching the failure of his troops before Nancy and Ypres, inditing grandiose proclamations to Europe, prophesying a peace which never comes. He is a figure worthy of Greek tragedy. The fi/3/w which defied the gods has put him outside the homely consolations of mankind. He has devoted his people to the Dance of Death, and himself, like some new Orestes, can find no solace though he seek it wearily in the four corners of the world. JOHN BUCHAN. 68 AHASUERUS RETURNS "Once I drove the Christ out of my door; now I am doomed to walk from the Northern Seas to the Southern, from the Western shores to the Eastern mountains, asking for Peace, and none will give it to me." — From the Legend of the " Wandering jew." 69 Our Candid Friend THE position of Holland and Denmark is one of excruciating anxiety to the citizens of those countries. They know that the Allies are fighting the battle of their own political existence, but they are so hypnotized with well-founded terror of the implacable tyrant on their flank that they are not only bound to neutrality, but are afraid to express their sympathies too plainly. Dutch editors have been admonished and punished under pressure from Berlin; the bril- liant artist of these cartoons is in danger on his native soil. A leading German newspaper has lately announced that "we will make Holland pay with interest for these insults after the war." A German victory would inevitably be followed in a few years by the disappearance from the map of this gallant and interesting little nation, our plucky rival in time past, our honoured friend to-day. No nation has established a stronger claim to maintain its independence, whether we consider the heroic and successful struggles of the Dutch for religious and political liberty, their triumphs in discovery, colonization, and naval warfare, their unique contributions to art, or the manly and vigorous character of their people. It is needless to say that we have no designs upon any Dutch colony! THE DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S. 70 JL^quiS. l^\i fsSjppivaelj^TS PEACE AND INTERVENTION— GERMAN MILITARISM ON THE OPERATING-TABLE " For the sake of the world's future we must first use the knife." 73 I Little Red Riding Hood F YOU wish to see the position of Holland look at the map of Europe as it was before August 4, 1914, and the map of Europe as it is to-day. In 1914 Holland lay overshadowed by the vast upper jaw-bone of a monster — Prussia — a jaw-bone reaching from the Dollart to Aix- la-Chapelle. In August and September, 1914, Prussia, by the seizure of Belgium, developed a lower jaw-bone reaching from Aix-la-Chapelle to Cassan- dria on the West Schelde. To-day Holland lies gripped between these two formidable mandibles that are ready and waiting to close and crush her. For years and years Prussia has been waiting to devour Holland. Why? For the simple reason that Holland is rich in the one essential thing that Prussia lacks— coast-line. Look again at the map and see how Holland and Belgium together absolutely wall Prussia in from the sea. Belgium has been taken on by Prussia; if we do not tear that lower jaw from Prussia, Holland will be lost, and the sea-power of England threatened with destruction. The ruffian with the automatic pistol waiting behind the tree requires the life as well as the basket of the little figure advancing toward him. He has been in ambush for forty years. H. DE VERE STACPOOLE. 74 LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD Germany lying in wait for Holland. The Sea Mine WHEN Raemaekers pictures Von Tirpitz to us, he does so with savage scorn. He is not the hard-bitten pirate of story — but a senile, crapulous, lachrymose imbecile; an object of derision. He fits more with one of Jacob's tales of long- shore soakers, than with the tragedies that have made him infamous. But when he draws Von Tirpitz's victims, the touch is one of almost harrowing tenderness. The Hun is a master of many modes of killing, but however torn, or twisted, or tortured he leaves the murdered, Raemaekers can make the dreadful spectacle bearable by the piercing dignity with which he portrays the dead. In none of these cartoons is his sseva indignatio rendered with more sheer beauty of design, or with a craftsmanship more exquisite, than in this monument to the sea-mined prey. The symbolism is perfect, and of the essence of the design. The dead sink slowly to their resting-place, but the merciful twilight of the sea veils from us the glazed horror of the eyes that no piety can now close. Even the dumb, senseless fish shoots from the scene in mute and terrified protest, while from these poor corpses there rise surfaceward the silver bubbles of their expiring breath. One seems to see crying human souls prisoned in these spheres. And it is, indeed, such sins as these that cry to Heaven for vengeance. Blood-guiltiness must rest upon the heads of those that do them, upon the heads of their children — aye, and of their children's children too. This exquisite and tender drawing is something more than the record of inexpiable crime. It is a prophecy. And the prophecy is a curse. ARTHUR POLLEN. 76 THE SEA MINE 77 "Seduction' THE cartoon in which the Prussian is depicted as saying to his bound and gagged victim, "Ain't I a lovable fellow?" is one of the most pointed and vital of all pictorial, or indeed other, criticisms on the war. It is very important to note that German savagery has not interfered at all with German sentimentalism. The blood of the victim and the tears of the victor flow together in an un- pleasing stream. The effect on a normal mind of reading some of the things the Germans say, side by side with some of the things they do, is an impression that can quite truly be conveyed only in the violent para- dox of the actual picture. It is exactly like being tortured by a man with an ugly face, which we slowly realize to be contorted in an attempt at an affectionate expression. In those soliloquies of self-praise which have constituted almost the whole of Prussia's defence in the inter- national controversy, the brigand of the Belgian annexation has incessantly said that his apparent hardness is the necessary accompani- ment of his inherent strength. Nietzsche said: "I give you a new commandment: Be hard." And the Prussian says: "I am hard," in a prompt and respectful manner. But, as a matter of fact, he is not hard; he is only heavy. He is not indifferent to all feelings; he is only indifferent to everybody else's feelings. At the thought of his own virtues he is always ready to burst into tears. His smiles, however, are even more frequent and more fatuous than his tears; and they are all leers like that which Mr. Baemaekers has drawn on the face of the expansive Prussian officer in the arm-chair. Compared with such an exhibition, there is something relatively virile about the tiger cruelty which has occasionally defaced the record of the Spaniard or the Arab. But to be conquered by such Germans as these would be like being eaten by slugs. G. K. CHESTERTON. 78 cj^oufs" fy.if ,..;i'i!^'>- k_^ SEDUCTION "Ain't I a lovable fellow? 79 Murder on the High Seas THE recent descent of so many of her citizens from the people now warring in Europe has of necessity prevented America from looking on events in Europe with a single eye. But the pre- dominant American type and the predominant American frame of mind are still typified by the lithe and sinuous figure of the New England pioneer. It is his tradition to mind his own business, but it is also his business to see that none of the old monarchies make free with his rights or with his people. And he stands for a race that has been cradled in wars with savages. No one knows better the methods of the Apache and the Mohawk, and when women and children fall into such pitiless hands as these, it goes against the grain with Uncle Sam to keep his hands off them, even if the women and children are not his own. He would like to be indifferent if he could. He would prefer to smoke his cigar, and pass along, and be- lieve those who tell him that it is none of his affair. But when he does look — and he cannot help looking — he sees a figure of such heavy bestiality that his gorge rises. He must keep his hands clenched in his pockets lest he soils them in striking down the blood-stained gnome before him. Can he restrain himself for good? That angry glint in his eye would make one doubt it. Here, surely, the artist sees with a truer vision than the politician. And if Uncle Sam's anger does once get the better of him, if doubts and hesitations are ever thrust on one side, if he takes his stand where his record and his sympathies must make him wish to be, then let it be noted that this base butcher stands dazed and paralyzed by the threat. ARTHUR POLLEN. 80 J. .mi'iyTSpfr '-of *g r *- MURDER ON THE HIGH SEAS " Well, have you nearly done ? " 81 Ad Finem a Y — TO your end ! — to your end amid the execrations of a l\ ravaged world! Through all the ages one other only has ^ *" equalled you in the betrayal of his trust. May your sin come home to you before you go, as did his! May his despair be yours! It is most desperately to be regretted that no personal suffering on your part, in this life at all events, can ever adequately requite you for the desolations you have wrought. Outrage on outrage thunders to the sky The tale of thy stupendous infamy, — Thy slaughterings, — thy treacheries, — thy thefts, — Thy broken pacts, — thy honour in the mire, — Thy poor humanity cast off to sate thy pride; — 'Twere better thou hadst never lived, — or died Ere come to this. I heard a great Voice pealing through the heavens, A Voice that dwarfed earth's thunders to a moan: — Woe! Woe! Woe, to him by whom this came ! His house shall unto him be desolate And, to the end of time, his name shall be A byword and reproach in all the lands He repined. . . . And his own shall curse him For the ruin that he brought. Who without reason draws the sword — By sword shall perish ! The Lord hath said. . . . So be it, Lord! JOHN OXENHAM. 82 TO THE END War and Hunger : "Now you must accompany us to the end. The Kaiser : " Yes, to my end." 83 rr U'S" IT IS the essence of great cartooning to see things simply, and to command the technical resources that shall show the things, so simply seen, in an infinite variety of aspects. No series of Rae- maekers' drawing better exemplifies his quality in both these respects than those which deal with Germany's sea crimes. In the cartoon before us the immediate message is of the simplest. The Kaiser counts the head of British merchantmen sunk. Von Tirpitz counts the cost. But note the subtlety of the personation and environment. The Kaiser has those terrible haunted eyes that have marked the seer's presentment of him from quite an early stage of the war. There can be no ultimate escape from the dreadful vision that has set the seal of despair on this fine and handsome visage. He is shown, not as a sea monster, but as some rabid, evasive, impatient thing, dashing from point to point — as from policy to policy — with the angry swish that tells the unspoken anger failure everywhere compels. For the victories do not bring surrender, nor does frightfulness inspire ter- ror. The merchant ships still put to sea — and the U boats pay the penalty. The futility of this campaign of murder is typified by making Von Tirpitz, its inventor, an addle-headed seahorse, the nursery comedian of the sea. Stupid and ridiculous bewilderment stares from his foolish eyes. Another submarine has failed to find a safe victim in a trading ship, but has been hoisted with its own sea petard. The impotence of the thing! This conference of the Admirals of the Atlantic, held in the sombre depths, is a biting satire, in its mingled comedy and tragedy, on the effort to win command of the sea from its bottom. ARTHUR POLLEN. 84 -J 2.1 •' I r^dPMtff^p U'S' His Majesty : "Well, Tripitz, you've sunk a great many?" Tirpitz : " Yes, sire, here is another ' U ' coming down." 85 Mater Dolorosa YOU thought to grasp the world ; but you shall keep Its crown of curses nailed upon your brow. You that have fouled the purple, broke your vow, And sowed the wind of death, the whirlwind you shall reap. Shout to your tribal god to bless the blood Of this red vintage on the poisoned earth; Clash cymbals to him, leap and shout in mirth ; Call on his name to stay the coming, cleansing flood. We are no hounds of heaven, nor ravening band Of earthly wolves to tear your kingdom down. We stand for human reason; at our frown The coward sword shall fall from your accursed hand. We do not speak of vengeance; there shall run No little children's blood beneath our heel. No pregnant woman suffers from our steel; But Justice we shall do, as sure as set of sun. Or short, or long, the pathway of your feet, Stamped on the faces of the innocent dead, Must lead where tyrant's road hath ever led. Alone, perjured soul, your Justice you shall meet. No sacrifice the balance of her scale Can win; no gift of blood and iron can weigh Against this one mad mother's agony: In her demented cry a myriad women wail. The equinox of outraged earth shall blaze And flash its levin on your infamous might. Man cries to fellow-man ; light leaps to light, Till foundered, naked, spent, you vanish from our gaze. EDEN PHILLPOTTS. 86 MATER DOLOROSA 87 ' r Gott Strafe Italien! 11 WHEN Italy, still straining at the leash which held her, helpless, to the strange and unnatural Triplice, began to show signs of awakening consciousness, Germany's efforts to lull her back to the unhappy position of silent partner in the world-crime were char- acteristic of her methods. Forthwith Italy was loaded with compli- ments. The country was overrun with "diplomats," which is another name in Germany for spies. Bribery of the most brazen sort was attempted. The newspapers recalled in chorus that Italy was the land of art and chivalry, of song and heroism, of fabled story and manly effort, of honour and loyalty. Hark to the Hamburger Fremdenblatt of February 21, 1915: "The suggestion is made that Italy favours the Allies. Pre- posterous ! Even though the palsied hand of England — filled with rob- ber gold — be held out to her, Italy's vows, Italy's sense of obligation, Italy's word once given, can never be broken. Such a nation of noblemen could have no dealings with hucksters." Germany is, indeed, a fine judge of a nation's "word once given" and a nation's "vows," which its Chancellor unblushingly declared to be mere scraps of paper. Now let us see what the Hamburger Nachrichten had to say about Italy immediately after her secession from the Triple Alliance: "Nachrichten, June 1, 1915. That Italy should have joined hands with the other noble gentlemen, our enemies, is but natural. It would, of course, be absurd — where all are brigands — were the classical name of brigandage not included in the number. . . . We do not propose to soil our clean steel with the blood of such filthy Italian scum. With our cudgels we shall smash them into pulp." "Gott strafe Italien" indeed! Bombs on St. Mark's in Venice, on the Square of Verona, on world treasures unreplaceable. The poisoned breath of Germany carries its venom into the land of sun- shine and song, whose best day's work in history has been to wrest itself free from the grip of the false friend. RALPH D. BLUMENFELD. 88 J 1 -— - I _I©u 1 5» ]-nJJo<"> n-.c\e (^r £ , GOTT STRAFE ITALIEN! 89 Serbia SERBIA has suffered the fate of Belgium. Germany and Austria, with Bulgaria's aid, have plunged another little country "in blood and destruction." Another "bleeding piece of earth" bears witness to the recrudescence of the ancient barbarism of the Huns. Serbia's wounds, "Like dumb mouths, Do ope their ruby lips," to beg for vengeance on "these butchers." Turkey, whom the artist portrays as a hound lapping up the victim's blood, is fated to share the punishment for the crime. But the prime instigator is the German Emperor, whose Chancellor, with bitter irony, claims for his master the title of protector of the small nationalities of Europe. Herr von Bethmann-Hollweg can on occasion affect the mincing accents of the wolf when that beast seeks to lull the cries of the lamb in its clutches. The German method of waging war has rendered "dreadful objects so familiar" that the essential brutality of the enemy's activities runs a risk of escaping at times the strenuous denunciation which Justice demands. But the searching pencil of Mr. Raemaekers brings home to every seeing eye the true and unvarying character of Teutonic "frightfulness." All instincts of humanity are cynically defied on the specious ground of military necessity. Mr. Raemaekers is at one with Milton in repudiating the worthless plea : "So spake the fiend, and with necessity, The tyrant's plea, excused his devilish deeds." SIR SIDNEY LEE. 90 I I mm gn ILL— 011 '^T~V^ en " >q f e^S OCTOBER IN SERBIA The Austro-German-Bulgarian attack on Serbia began in October, which in Holland is called the " butcher's month," as the cattle are then killed preparatory to the winter. 91 "Just a Moment — I'm Coming" HERE is a drawing that ought to be circulated broadcast through- out Australia and New Zealand, that ought to hold a place of honour on the walls of their public chambers; should hang in gilded frames in the houses of the rich; be pinned to the rough walls of frame-house and bark humpy in every corner of "The Outback." It should thrill the heart of every man, woman, and child Down Under with pride and thankfulness and satisfaction, should even bring soothing balm to the wounds of those who in the loss of their nearest and dearest have paid the highest and the deepest price for the flaming glory of the Anzacs in Gallipoli. Here in the artist's pencil is a monument to those heroes greater than pinnacles of marble, of beaten brass and carven stone; a monu- ment that has travelled over the world, has spoken to posterity more clearly, more convincingly, and more rememberingly than ever written or word-of-mouth speech could do. It is to the everlasting honour of the people of the Anzacs that they refrained from echoing the idle tales which ran whispering in England that the Dardanelles campaign was a cruel blunder, that the blood of the Anzacs' bravest and best had been uselessly spilt, that their splendid young lives had been an empty sacrifice to the demons of Incompetence and Inefficiency. To those in Australia who in their hearts may feel that shreds of truth were woven in the rumours — that the Anzacs were spent on a forlorn hope, were wasted on a task foredoomed to failure — let this simple drawing bring the comfort of the truth. The artist has seen deeper and further than most. The Turkish armies held from pouring on Russia and Serbia, from thumping down the scales of neutrality in Greece and Roumania perhaps, from massing their troops with the Central Powers; the Kaiser chained on the East and West for the critical months when men and munitions were desper- ately lacking to the Allies, when the extra weight of the Turks might have freed the Kaiser's power of fierce attack on East and West this is what we already know, what the artist here tells the wide world of the part played by the heroes of the Dardanelles. In face of this, who dare hint they suffered and died in vain? BOYD CABLE. 92 " JUST A MOMENT— I'M COMING. 93 The Holy War SURELY the artist when he drew this was endowed with the wisdom of the seer, the vision of the prophet. For it was drawn before the days in which I write, before the Russian giant had proved his greatness on the body of the Turk, before the bludgeon-strokes in the Caucasus, the heart-thrust of Erzerum, the torrent of pursuit of the broken Turks to Mush and Trebizond. We know — and I am grateful for the chance to voice our gratitude to him — the greatness of our Russian Ally. We remember the early days when the Kaiser's hosts were pouring in over France, and the Russian thrust into Galicia drew some of the overwhelming weight from the Western Front. We realize now the nobility of self-sacrifice that flung an army within reach of the jaws of destruction, that risked its annihilation to draw upon itself some of the sword-strokes that threatened to pierce to the heart of the West. Our national and natural instinct of admiration for a hard fighter, and still greater admiration for the apex of good sportmanship, for the friend or foe who can "take a licking," who is a "good loser," went out even more strongly to Russia in the dark days when, faced by an overwhelming weight of metal, she was forced and hammered and battered back, losing battle-line after battle-line, stronghold after stronghold, city after city; losing everything except heart and dogged punishment- enduring courage. And how great the Russian truly is will surely be known presently to the Turk and to the masquerading false "Prophet of Allah." "No one is great save Allah," says William, and even as the Turk spoke more truly than he knew in calling the Russian great, even as he was bitterly to realize the greatness, so in the fullness of time must William come to realize how great is the Allah of the Moslem, the Christian God Whom he has blasphemed, and in Whose name he and his people have perpetrated so many crimes and abominations. BOYD CABLE. 94 _! — >t>ui. |~\aernuel^ei^ . THE HOLY WAR The Turk : " But he is so great." William : "No one is great, save Allah, and I am his prophet." 95 "Gott Mit Uns" WHEN we consider the public utterances of the German clergy, we can very easily substitute for their symbol of Christian faith this malignant, grotesque, and inhuman monster of Louis Raemaekers. Indeed, our inclination is to thrust the green demon himself into the pulpit of the Fatherland; for his wrinkled skull could hatch and his evil mouth utter no more diabolic sentiments than those recorded and applauded from Lutheran Leipsic, or from the University and the chief Protestant pulpit in Berlin. Such sermons are a part of that national debacle of reasoning faculty which is the price intellectual Germany has paid for the surrender of her soul to Prussia. An example or two may be cited from the outrageous mass. Professor Rheinhold Seeby, who teaches theology at Berlin Univer- sity, has described his nation's achievements in Belgium and Serbia as a work of charity, since Germany punishes other States for their good and out of love. Pastor Philippi, also of Berlin, has said that, as God allowed His only Son to be crucified, that His scheme of redemption might be accomplished, so Germany, God with her, must crucify humanity in order that its ultimate salvation may be secured; and the Teutonic nation has been chosen to perform this task, because Germany alone is pure and, therefore, a fitting instrument for the Divine Hand. Satan, who has returned to earth in the shape of Eng- land, must be utterly destroyed, while the immoral friends and allies of Satan are called to share his fate. Thus evil will be swept off the earth and the German Empire henceforth stand supreme protector of the new kingdom of righteousness. Pastor Zoebel has ordered no compromise with hell; directed his flock to be pleased at the sufferings of the enemy; and bade them rejoice when thousands of the non-elect are sent to the bottom of the sea. Yes, we will give the green devil his robe and bands until Germany is in her strait-jacket; after which experience, her conceptions of a Supreme Being and her own relation thereto may become modified. EDEN PHILLPOTTS. 96 GOTT MIT UNS' 97 The Widows of Belgium THIS deeply pathetic picture evokes the memory of many sad and patient faces which we have seen during the last eighteen months. It is the women, after all — wives, mothers, sisters, and daughters — who have the heaviest load to bear in war-time. The courage and heroism which they have shown are an honour to human nature. The world is richer for it; and the sacrifices which they have bravely faced and nobly borne may have a greater effect in convincing mankind of the wickedness and folly of aggressive militarism than all the eloquence of peace advocates. We must not forget that the war has made about six German widows for every one in our country. With these we have no quarrel; we know that family affection is strong in Germany, and we are sorry for them. They, like our own suffering women, are the victims of a barbarous ideal of national glory, and a worse than barbarous per- version of patriotism, which in our opponents has become a kind of moral insanity. These pictures will remain long after the war-passion has subsided. They will do their part in preventing a recrudescence of it. Who that has ever clamoured for war can face the unspoken reproach in these pitiful eyes? Who can think unmoved of the happy romance of wedded love, so early and so sadly terminated? THE DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S. 98 THE WIDOWS OF BELGIUM 99 The Harvest Is Ripe THE artist spreads before you a view such as you would have on the great wheat-growing plains of Hungary, or on the level plateau of Asiatic Turkey — the vast, unending, monotonous, un- divided field of corn. In the background the view is interrupted by two villages from which great clouds of flame and smoke are rising — they are both on fire — and as you look closer at the harvest you see that, instead of wheat, it consists of endless regiments of marching soldiers. "The harvest is plentiful, but the labourers are few": here is only one, but he is quite sufficient — "the reaper whose name is Death," a skeleton over whose bones the peasant's dress — a shirt and a pair of ragged trousers — hangs loose. The shirt-sleeves of the skeleton are turned well up, as if for more active exertion, as he grasps the two holds of the huge scythe with which he is sweeping down the harvest. This is not war of the old type, with its opportunities for chivalry, its glories, and its pride of manly strength. The German development of war has made it into a mere exercise in killing, a business of slaughter. Which side can kill most, and itself outlast the other? When one reads the calculations by which careful statisticians demonstrate that in the first seventeen months of the war Germany alone lost over a million of men killed in battle, one feels that this cartoon is not exag- gerated. It is the bare truth. The ease with which the giant figure of Death mows down the harvest of tiny men corresponds, in fact, to the million of German dead, probably as many among the Russians, to which must be added the losses among the Austrians, the French, the British, the Belgians, Italians, Serbs, Turks, and Montenegrins. The appalling total is this vast harvest which covers the plain. WILLIAM MITCHELL RAMSAY. 100 THE HARVEST IS RIPE 101 "Unmasked" THE "Yellow Book," it may be remembered, was the official publication of some of the details of atrocities committed by the Huns on the defenceless women and children of rav- ished Belgium. It told in cold and unimpassioned sentences, in plain and simple words more terrible than the most fervid outpourings of patriot or humanitarian, the tale of brutalities, of cold-blooded crimes, of murders and rape and mental and physical tortures beyond the capabilities or the imaginings of savages, possible only in their refinements of cruelty to the civilized apostles of Kultur. There are many men in the trenches of the Allies to-day who will say that the German soldier is a brave man, that he must be brave to advance to the slaughter of the massed attack, to hold to his trenches under the horrible punishment of heavy artillery fire. As a nation we are always ready to admit and to admire physical courage, and if Germany had fought a "clean fight," had "played the game," starkly and straightly, against our fighting men, we could — and our fighting men especially could, and I believe would — have helped her to her feet and shaken hands honestly with her after she was beaten. But with such a brute beast as the unmasking of the "Yellow Book" has revealed Germany to be we can never feel friendship, admiration, or respect. The German is a "dirty fighter," and to the British soldier that alone puts him beyond the pale. He has outraged all the rules and the instincts of chivalry. His bravery in battle is the bravery of a ravening wolf, of a blood-drunk savage animal. It is only left to the Allies to treat him as such, to thrash him by brute force, and then to clip his teeth and talons and by treaty and agreement amongst them- selves to keep him chained and caged beyond the possibility of another outbreak. BOYD CABLE. 102 ,\ iJL'GuVsTR^rwkjp*'.* UNMASKED The Yellow Book 103 The Great Surprise IN THE note to another picture I have remarked on the farcical hypocrisy of the German Emperor in presenting himself, as he so often does, as the High Priest of several different religions at the same time. They are nearly all of them religions with which he would have no sort of concern, even if his religious pose were as real as it is artificial. Being in fact the ruler and representative of a country which alone among European countries builds with complete security upon the conviction that all Christianity is dead, he can only be, even in theory, the prince of an extreme Protestant State. Long before the War it was common for the best caricaturists of Europe, and even of Germany, to make particular fun of these preposterous tem- porary Papacies in which the Kaiser parades himself as if for a fancy- dress ball; and in the accompanying picture Mr. Raemaekers has returned more or less to this old pantomimic line of satire. The cartoon recalls some of those more good-humoured, but per- haps equally contemptuous, sketches in which the draughtsmen of the French comic papers used to take a particular delight; which made a whole comic Bible out of the Kaiser's adventures during his visit to Palestine. Here he appears as Moses, and the Red Sea has been dried up to permit the passage of himself and his people. It would certainly be very satisfactory for German world-politics if the sea could be dried up everywhere; but it is unlikely that the incident will occur, especially in that neighbourhood. It will be long before a German army is as safe in the Suez Canal as a German Navy in the Kiel Canal; and the higher critics of Germany will have no difficulty in proving, in the Kiel Canal at all events, that the safety is due to human and not to divine wisdom. G. K. CHESTERTON. 104 THE GREAT SURPRISE Moses II leads his chosen people through the Red Sea to the promised (Eng)land. 105 Thou Art the Man! THE Man of Sorrows is flogged, and thorn-crowned, and crucified, and pierced afresh, by this other man of sorrows, who has brought greater bitterness and woe on earth than any other of all time. And in his soul — for soul he must have, though small sign of it is evidenced — he knows it. Deceive his dupes as he may — for a time — his own soul must be a very hell of broken hopes, disappointed ambitions, shattered pride, and the hideous knowledge of the holocaust of human life he has deliberately sacrificed to these heathen gods of his. No poorest man on earth would change places with this man-that- might-have-been, for his time draws nigh and his end is perdition. Let That Other speak: "Their souls are Mine. Their lives were in thy hand; — Of thee I do require them! "The fetor of thy grim burnt-offerings Comes up to Me in clouds of bitterness. Thy fell undoings crucify afresh Thy Lord — who died alike for these and thee. Thy works are Death: — thy spear is in My side, — O man! man! — was it for this I died? Was it for this?— A valiant people harried to the void, — Their fruitful fields a burnt-out wilderness, — Their prosperous country ravelled into waste, — - Their smiling land a vast red sepulchre, — — Thy work! "Thou art the man! The scales were in thy hand. For this vast wrong I hold thy soul in fee. Seek not a scapegoat for thy righteous due, Nor hope to void thy countability. Until thou purge thy pride and turn to Me, — As thou hast done, so be it unto thee!" JOHN OXENHAM. 106 iUu.sKa^erpkrrS THOU ART THE MAN "We wage war on Divine principles. 107 Sympathy THE cartoon requires no words to tell the story. It holds chapter upon chapter of tragedy. " I will send you to Germany after your father!" Where is the boy's father in Germany? In a prison? Mending roads? Lying maimed and broken in a rude hos- pital? Digging graves for comrades about to be shot? Or, more likely still, in a rough unknown stranger's grave? Was the father dragged from his home at Louvain, or Tirlemont, or Vise, or one of the dozen other scenes of outrage and murder — a harmless, hard-working citizen — dragged from his hiding-place and made to suffer "exemplary justice" for having "opposed the Kaiser's might," but in reality because he was a Belgian, for whose nasty breed there must be demonstrations of Germany's frightfulness pour encourager les autres? And the child's mother and sisters — what of them? He is de- jected, but not broken. There is dignity in the boy's defiant pose. The scene has, perhaps, been enacted hundreds of times in the cities of Belgium, where poignant grief has come to a nation which dared to be itself. Follow this boy through life and observe the stamp of deep resolve on his character. Though he be sent "to Germany after your father," though he be for a generation under the German jack-boot, his spirit will sustain him against the conqueror and will triumph in the end. RALPH D. BLUMENFELD. 108 i ^L j oo * sT\<3fem ne/<« &&J SYMPATHY "If I find you again looking so sad, I'll send you to Germany after your father.' 109 The Refugees THE wonder is not that women went mad, but that there are left any sane civilians of the ravished districts of Belgium after all those infamies perpetrated under orders by the German troops after the first infuriating check of Liege and before the final turning of the German line at the battle of the Marne. We have supped full of horrors since, and by an insensible process grown something callous. But we never came near to realizing the Belgian agony, and Raemaekers does us service by helping to make us see it mirrored in the eyes of this poor raving girl. This indeed is a later incident, but will serve for reminder of the earlier worse. It is really not well to forget. These were not the inevitable hor- rors of war, but a deliberately calculated effect. There seems no hope of the future of European civilization till the men responsible for such things are brought to realize that, to put it crudely and at its lowest, they don't pay. What the attitude of Germany now is may be guessed from the blank refusal even of her bishops to sanction the investigation which Cardinal Merrier asks for. It is still the gentle wolf's theory that the truculent lamb was entirely to blame. JOSEPH THORP. 110 v- - THE REFUGEES FROM GHEEL Gheel has a model asylum for the insane. On the fall of Antwerp the inmates were conveyed across the frontier. The cartoon illustrates an incident where a woman, while wheeling a lunatic, herself developed insanity from the scenes she witnessed. Ill rr The Junker" THERE were few things that Junkerdom feared so much in modern Germany as the growth and effects of Socialism; and it is certain that the possible attitude of the German Socialists — who were thought by some writers to numbei somewhere in the neigh- bourhood of two million — in regard to the War at its outset greatly exercised the minds of Junkerdom and the Chancellor. A few days after the declaration of War a well-known English Socialist said to us, "I believe that the Socialists will be strong enough greatly to handicap Germany in the carrying on of the War, and possibly, if she meets with reverses in the early stages, to bring about Peace before Christ- mas." That was in August, 1914, and we are now well on in the Spring of 1916. We reminded the speaker that on a previous occasion, when Peace still hung in the balance, he had declared with equal conviction that there would be no War because "the Socialists are now too strong in Germany not to exercise a preponderating restraining influence." He has proved wrong in both opinions. And one can well imagine that the Junker class admires Chancellor von Bethmann-Hollweg for the astute manner in which he has succeeded in shepherding the German Socialist sheep for the slaughter, and in muzzling their representatives in the Reichstag. CLIVE HOLLAND. 112 [gyfe | - THE JUNKER " What I have most admired in you, Bethmann, is that you have made Socialists our best supporters." 113 rr Au Milieu De Fantomes Tristes Et Sans Nombre" THERE is something daunting, even to the mind of one not guilty of war or of massacres, in the thought of multitudes: the multitude of the dead, of the living, of one generation of men since there have been men on earth. And war brings this horror to us daily, or rather nightly, because such great companies of men have suddenly died together, passing in comradeship and com- munity from the known to the unknown. Yet dare we say "together?" The unparalleled solitariness and singleness of death is not altered by the general and simultaneous doom of battle. And it is with the multitude, and all the ones in it, that the maker of war is in unconscious relation. He does not know their names, he does not know them by any kind of distinction, he knows them only by thousands. Yet every one with a separate life and separate death is in conscious relation with him, knows him for the tyrant who has taken his youth, his hope, his love, his fatherhood. What a multitude to meet, whether in thought, in conscience, or in another world ! We all, no doubt, try to make the thought of massacre less intolerable to our minds by telling ourselves that the sufferers suffer one by one, to each his own share, and not another's; that though the numbers may appeal, they do not make each man's part more terrible. But this is not much comfort. There is not, it is true, a sum of multiplication; but there is the sum of addition. And that addition — the multitude man by man — the War Lord has tp reckon with: Frederick the Great with his men, Napoleon with his, the Ger- man Emperor with his — each one of the innumerable unknown knowing his destroyer. ALICE MEYNELL. 114 " Mais quand la voix de Dieu l'appela il se voyait seul sur la terre au milieu de fantomes tristes et sans nombre." 115 Bluebeard's Chamber THE Committee of Enquiry, like another Portia, clothed in the ermine-trimmed robe of Justice and the Law, has unlocked with the key of Truth the door of the closed chamber. The key lies behind her inscribed in Dutch with the name that tells its nature. The Committee then pulls back the curtain, and reveals the horrors that are behind it. Before the curtain is fully drawn back, Enquiry sinks almost in collapse at the terrible sight that is disclosed. There hang to pegs on the wall the bodies of Bluebeard's victims, a woman, an old man, a priest, two boys, and a girl still half hidden behind the curtain. The blood that has trickled from them coagulates in pools on the ground. Bluebeard himself comes suddenly: he hurries down the steps brandishing his curved sword, a big, burly figure, with square, thick beard, and streaming whiskers, wearing a Prussian helmet, his mouth open to utter a roar of rage and fury. The hatred and scorn with which the artist inspires his pictures of Prussia are inexhaustible in their variety: Prussia is barbarism attempting to trample on law and education, brutality beating down humanity, a grim figure, the in- carnation of "frightfulness." I can imagine the feelings with which all Germans must regard the picture that the Dutch artist always gives of their country, if they regard Prussia as their country. "For every cartoon of Raemaekers," said a German newspaper, "the payment will be exacted in full, when the reckoning is made up." To this painter the Prussian ruling power is incapable of understanding what nobility of nature means. He can practise on and take advantage of the vices and weaknesses of his enemies; he can buy the services of many among them, and have all the worser people in his fee as his servants and agents; but he is always foiled, because he forgets that some men cannot be bought, and that these men will steel their fellow-country- men's minds to resist tyranny to the last. The mass of men can be led either to evil or to good. The Prussian military system assumes the former as certain, and is well skilled in the way. But there is the latter way, too, which Prussia never knew and never takes into account as a possibility; and men as a whole prefer the way to good before the way to evil, when both are fully explained and made clear. This saves men, and ruins Prussia. WILLIAM MITCHELL RAMSAY. 116 BLUEBEARD'S CHAMBER The horrors perpetrated by the Germans were brought to light by the Belgian Committee of Enquiry. 117 The Raid THE seaman of history is a chivalrous and romantic figure, a gallant and relentless fighter, a generous and a tender conqueror. In Codrington's first letter to his wife after the battle of Trafal- gar, he tells her to send £100 to one of the French captains who goes to England from the battle as a prisoner of war. The British and French navies cherish a hundred memories of acts like these. If the German navy survives the war what memories will it have? It must search the gaols for the exemplars in peace of the acts that win them the Iron Cross in war. Note in this drawing that the types selected are not in themselves base units of humanity. They have been made so by the beastly crimes superior orders have forced them to commit. But even this has not brought them so low but they wonder at the topsy-turvydom of war that brings them honour where poor Black Mary only got her deserts in gaol. The crimes of the higher command have passed in Germany uncon- demned and unbanned by cardinals and bishops. But the conscience of Germany cannot be wholly dead. Nor will six years only be the term of Germany's humiliation and remorse. The spotless white of the naval uniform, sullied and besmirched by those savage cruelties, cannot, any more than the German soul, be brought back "whiter than snow" by any bestowal of the Iron Cross. The effort to cleanse either would "the multitudinous seas incarnadine." ARTHUR POLLEN. 118 Hie^-R o e ma p l< cie|^ i'.i.. "Why, I've killed you twice, and you dare to come back again.' 143 The Order of Merit TURKEY had no illusions from the beginning on the subject of the war. If the choice had been left to the nation she would not have become Germany's catspaw. Unfortunately for Turkey, she has had no choice. For years upon years the Sultan Abdul Hamid was Turkey. Opposition to his will meant death for his opponent. Thus Turkey became inarticulate. Her voice was struck dumb. The revolution was looked upon hopefully as the dawn of a new era. Abdul Hamid was dethroned; his brother, a puppet, was exalted, anointed, and enthroned. Power passed from the Crown, not, as expected, to the people and its representatives, but into the hands of a youthful adventurer, in German pay, who has led his country from one folly to another. Turkey did not want to fight, but she had no choice, and so she was dragged in by the heels. She has lost much besides her in- dependence. The crafty German has drained her of supplies while giving naught in return. The German's policy is to strive throughout for a weak Turkey. The weaker Turkey can be made, the better will it be for Germany, which hopes still, no matter what may happen else- where, so to manipulate things as to dominate the Ottoman Empire after the war. Turkey is still a rich country, in spite of her enormous sacri- fices in the past decade. She has been exploited from end to end by the German adventurer, who will continue the process of bleeding so long as there is safety in the method; but Turkey is beginning to ask herself, as does the figure of the fat Pasha in the cartoon: "And is this all the compensation I get?" An Iron Cross does not pay for the loss of half a million good soldiers. Yet that is the exact measure of Turkey's reward. RALPH D. BLUMENFELD. 144 THE ORDER OF MERIT Turkey: "And is this all the compensation I get?" 145 The Marshes ofPinsk IN WHAT are we most like our kinsmen the Germans, and in what most unlike? I was convicted of Teutonism when first, in Ger- many, I ate "brod und butter," and found the words pronounced in an English way, slurred. But if we are like the Germans in the names of simple and childish things, we grow more unlike them, we draw farther apart from them, as we grow up. We love war less and less, as they love it more. We love our word of honour more and more as they, for the love of war, love their word less. There is no nation in the world more unlike us; because there is no war so perfect, so conscious, so complete as the German. And being thus all-predominant, German war is the greatest of outrages on life and death. We English have a singular degree of respect for the dead. It has no doubt expressed itself in some slight follies and vulgarities, such as certain funeral customs, not long gone by; but such respect is a national virtue and emotion. No nation loving war harbours that virtue. And in nothing do the kinsmen with whom we have much language in common differ from us more than in the policy that brought this Prussian host to cumber the stagnant waters of the Marshes of Pinsk. The love of war has cast them there, displayed, profaned, in the "cold obstruction" of their dissolution. Corruption '. is not sensible corruption when it is a secret in earth where no eye, no hand, no breath- ing can be aware of it. There is no offence in the grave. But the lover of war, the Power that loved war so much as to break its oath for the love of war, and for the love of war to strike aside the hand of the peace-maker, Arbitration, that Power has chosen thus to expose and to betray the multitude of the dead. ALICE MEYNELL. 146 2==-© THE MARSHES OF P1NSK, NOVEMBER, 1915- The Kaiser said last spring: "When the leaves fall you'll have peace." They have! 147 God With Us THREE apaches sit crouched in shelter waiting the moment to strike. One is old and gaga, his ancient fingers splayed on the ground to support him and his face puckered with the petulance of age. One is a soft shapeless figure — clearly with small heart for the business, for he squats there as limp as a sack. One is the true stage conspirator with a long pendulous nose and narrow eyes. His knife is in his teeth, and he would clearly like to keep it there, for he has no stomach for a fight. He will only strike if he can get in a secret blow. The leader of the gang has the furtive air of the criminal, his chin sunk on his breast, and his cap slouched over his brows. His right hand holds a stiletto, his pockets bulge with weapons or plunder, his left hand is raised with the air of a priest encouraging his flock. And his words are the words of religion — "God with us." At the sign the motley crew will get to work. It is wholesome to strip the wrappings from grandiose things. Public crimes are no less crimes because they are committed to the sound of trumpets, and the chicanery of crowned intriguers is morally the same as the tricks of hedge bandits. It is privilege of genius to get down to fundamentals. Behind the stately speech of international pourparlers and the rhetoric of national appeals burn the old lust and greed and rapine. A stab in the dark is still a stab in the dark though courts and councils are the miscreants. A war of aggression is not less brigandage because the armies march to proud songs and summon the Almighty to their aid. Raemaekers has done much to clear the eyes of humanity. The monarch of Felix Austria, with the mantle of the Holy Roman Empire still dragging from his shoulders, is no more than a puzzled, broken old man, crowded in this bad business beside the Grand Turk, against whom his fathers defended Europe. The preposterous Ferdinand, shorn of his bombast, is only a chicken-hearted assassin. The leader of the band, the All Highest himself, when stripped of his white cloak and silver helmet, shows the slouch and the furtive ferocity of the street- corner bravo. And the cry "God with us," which once rallied Cru- sades, has become on such lips the signal of the apache. JOHN BUCHAN. 148 GOD WITH US 'At the command 'Gott mit uns' you will go for them. 149 Ferdinand the Chameleon THERE is one whole field of the evil international influence of Germany in which Ferdinand of Bulgaria is a much more im- portant and symbolic person than William of Prussia. He is, of course, a cynical cosmopolitan. He is in great part a Jew, and an advanced type of that mauvais juif who is the principal obstacle to all the attempts of the more genuine and honest Jews to erect a rational status for their people. Like almost every man of this type, he is a Jingo without being a patriot. That is to say, he is of the type that believes in big arma- ments and in a diplomacy even more brutal than armaments; but the militarism and diplomacy are not humanized either by the ancient national sanctities which surround the Czar of Russia, or the spontane- ous national popularity which established the King of Serbia. He is not national, but international; and even in his peaceful activities has been not so much a neutral as a spy. In the accompanying cartoon the Dutch caricaturist has thrust with his pencil at the central point of this falsity. It is something which is probably the central point of everything everywhere, but is especially the central point of everything connected with the deep quarrels of Eastern Europe. It is religion. Russian Orthodoxy is an enormously genuine thing; Austrian Romanism is a genuine thing; Islam is a genuine thing; Israel, for that matter, is also a genuine thing. But Ferdinand of Bulgaria is not a genuine thing; and he represents the whole part played by Prussia in these ancient disputes. That part is the very reverse of genuine; it is a piece of ludicrous and trans- parent humbug. If Prussia had any religion, it would be a northern perversion of Protestantism utterly distant from and indifferent to the controversies of Slavonic Catholics. But Prussia has no religion. For her there is no God; and Ferdinand is his prophet. G. K. CHESTERTON. 150 FERDINAND THE CHAMELEON "I was a Catholic, but, needing Russian help, I became a Greek Orthodox. Now I need the Austrians, I again become Catholic. Should things turn out badly, 1 can again revert to Greek Orthodoxy." 151 The Latin Sisters THE Latin Sisters! Note carefully the expression of France as contrasted with that of Italy. France, violated by the Hun, exhibits grim determination made sacrosanct by suffering. Italy's face glows with enthusiasm. One can conceive of the one fight- ing on to avenge her martyrs, steadfast to the inevitable end when Right triumphs over Might. One can conceive of the other drawing her sword because of the blood tie which links them together in a bond that craft and specious lies have tried in vain to sunder. What do they stand for, these two noble sisters? Everything which can be included in the word — ART. Everything which has built up, stone upon stone, the stately temple of Civilization, everything which has served to humanize mankind and to differentiate him from the beasts of Prussia. Looking at these two sisters, one wonders that there are still to be found in England mothers who allow their children to be taught Ger- man. One hazards the conjecture that it might well be imparted to exceptionally wicked children, if there be any, because none can ques- tion that the Teutonic tongue will be spoken almost exclusively in the nethermost deeps of Hades until, and probably after, the Day of Judgment. For my sins I studied German in Germany, and I rejoice to think that I have forgotten nearly every word of that raucous and obscene language. Had I a child to educate, and the choice between German and Choctaw were forced upon me, I should not select German. French, Italian, and Spanish, cognate tongues, easy to learn, delightful to speak, hold out sweet allurements to English children. Do not these suffice? If any mother who happens to read these lines is considering the pro- priety of teaching German to a daughter, let her weigh well the re- sponsibility which she is deliberately assuming. To master any foreign language, it is necessary to talk much and often with the natives. Do Englishwomen wish to talk with any Huns after this war? What will be the feeling of an English mother whose daughter marries a Hun any time within the next twenty years? And such a mother will know that she planted the seed which ripened into catastrophe when she permitted her child to acquire the language of our detestable and detested enemies. HORACE ANNESLEY VACHELL. 152 THE LATIN SISTERS Italy: "Indeed she is my sister." 153 Misunderstood IT NEED not necessarily be supposed that the directors of German destiny, who are not devoid of intelligence, took the ravings of Bernhardi over-seriously. He had his special uses no doubt before the day. But on the morrow of the day, when questions of responsi- bility came to be raised, he became one of many inconvenient witnesses; and there has scarcely been a better joke among the grim humours of this catastrophe than the mission of this Bedhot-Gospeller of the New Unchivalry of War to explain to "those idiotic Yankees" that he was really an ardent pacifist. The most just, the most brilliant, the most bitter pamphlet of invective could surely not say so much as this reeking cleaver, those bloody hands, that fatuous leer and gesture, this rigid victim. Bernhardism was not a mere windy theory. It was exactly practised on the Belgian people. And this spare, dignified figure of Uncle Sam, contemptuously in- credulous, is, I make bold to say, a more representative symbol of the American people than one which our impatience sometimes tempts us now to draw. Most Americans now regret, as Pope Benedict must regret, that the first most cruel rape of Belgium was allowed to pass without formal protest in the name of civilization. But that occasion gone, none other, not the Lusitania even, showed so clear an oppor- tunity. A people's sentiments are not necessarily expressed by the action of its Government, which moves always in fetters. Nor has President Wilson's task been as simple as his critics on this or the other side of the Atlantic profess to believe. JOSEPH THOBP. 154 MISUNDERSTOOD Bernhardt "Indeed I am the most humane fellow in the world. 155 Prosperity Reigns in Flanders WHEREVER Prussia rules she has only one method of ruling — that of terror. Wherever she finds civilization and the wealth which civilization creates, she can do nothing but despoil. She is as incapable of persuasion as of creation. No people forced to endure her rule have ever been won to prefer it as the Alsatians came to prefer the rule of France or as many Indians have come to prefer the rule of England. In Belgium she has been especially herself in this respect. A wise policy would have dictated such a careful respect for private rights and such a deference to native traditions as might conceivably have weakened the determination of the Belgians to resist to the death those who had violated their national independence. But Prussia is incapable of such a policy. In any territory which she occupies, whe- ther temporarily or permanently, her only method is terror and her only aim loot. She did indeed send some of her tame Socialists to Brussels to embark on the hopeless enterprise of persuading the Belgian Socialists that honour and patriotism were ideologies bourgeoises and that the "economic interests" of Belgium would be best promoted by a sub- mission. These pedantic barbarians got the answer which they de- served; but on their pettifogging thesis Raemaekers' cartoon is perhaps the best commentary. The "prosperity" of Belgium under Prussian rule has consisted in the systematic looting, in violation of international law, of the wealth accumulated by the free citizens of Belgium, for the advantage of their Prussian rulers; while to the mass of the people it has brought and, until it is forever destroyed, can bring nothing but that slavery which the Prussians have themselves accepted and which they would now impose upon the whole civilization of Europe. CECIL CHESTERTON. 156 PROSPERITY REIGNS IN FLANDERS Four hundred and eighty millions of francs have been imposed as a war tax, but soup is given gratis. 157 The Last Hohenzollern BEHIND him stands the embodiment of all that Prussian kultur and efficiency mean, wooden uninventiveness, clockwork ac- curacy of movement — without soul or inspiration. He himself is thin and scraggy — Raemaekers has intensified these characteristics, but even so the caricature of the reality is more accurate than unkind. Many months ago, this vacuous heir of the house of Hohenzollern set to work on the task of overcoming France, and the result. . . . may be found in bundles of four, going back to the incinerators beyond Aix, in the piled corpses before the French positions at and about Verdun; some of the results, the swag of the decadent burglar, went back in sacks from the chateaux that this despicable thing polluted and robbed as might any Sikes from Portland or Pentonville. He is the embodiment, himself, of the last phase of Prussian kultur. Somewhere back in the history of Prussia its rulers had to invent and to create, and then kultur brought forth hard men; later, it became possible to copy, and then kultur brought forth mechanical perfection rather than creative perfection, systematized its theories of life and work, and brought into being a class of men just a little meaner, more rigid, more automaton-like, than the original class; having reduced life to one system, and that without soul or ideal, kultur brought forth types lacking more and more in originality. Here stands the culmi- nating type; he will copy the good German Gott — he is incapable of originating anything — and will "do the same to France." As far as lies in his power, he has done it ; in the day of reckoning, Germany will judge how he has done it, and it is to be hoped that Germany will give him his just reward, for no punishment could be more fitting. The rest of the world already knows his vacuity, his utter uselessness, his criminal decadence. As his father was stripped of the Garter, so is he here shown stripped of the attributes to which, in earlier days, he made false claim. There remains a foolish knave posturing — and that is the real Crown Prince of Germany. E. CHARLES VIVIAN. 158 ~ * ( 1 1 ' y c?^ GOTT STRAFE ENGLAND! 'Father says I have to do the same with France." 159 Piracy IN THE summer of 1914 Germany stood before the world, a nation of immense, and to a great extent of most honourable, achievement. Her military greatness had never been in dispute. But in the previous twenty years she had developed an internal industry and an external commerce on a scale and with a rapidity entirely unprecedented. She had to build a navy such as no nation had ever constructed in so short a time. She seemed destined to progress in the immediate future as she had progressed in the immediate past. What has the madness for world conquest done for her now? She has made enemies of all, and made all her enemies suffer. Like the strong blind man of history, she has seized the columns of civilization and brought the whole temple down. But has she not destroyed her- self utterly amid the ruins? Her industry is paralyzed, her commerce gone. Her navy is dishonoured. Some force she still possesses at sea, but it is force to be expended on sea piracy alone. And it is not piracy that can save her. At most, in her extremity, it will do for her what a life belt does for a lone figure in a deserted ocean. It prolongs the agony that precedes inevitable extinction. It is the throw of the desperate gambler that Germany has made, when she flings this last vestige of her honour into the sea. ARTHUR POLLEN. 160 TIRPITZ'S LAST HOPE— PIRACY 161 "Weeping, She Hath Wept" WHILE a world' of mourners is plaintively asking, "What has become of our brave dead, where are they? Alas! how dark is the world without them, how silent the home, how sad the heart"; whilst the mourner is groping like the blind woman for her lost treasure, the Belgian mother, and the Belgian widow, and the Belgian orphan are on their knees, praying, "Eternal rest give to them, Lord; let a perpetual light shine upon them," the Christian plea that has echoed down the ages from the day of the Maccabees till now, exhort- ing us to pray for the dead that they may be loosed from their sins. I would remind the broken-hearted mother beseeching me to tell her where can her brave boy be gone, adding, "His was such a lonely journey; did he find his way to God?" of the words of the poet, who finds his answer to her question in the flight of a- sea bird sailing sun- ward from the winter snows: There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along the pathless coast, The desert and illimitable air, Lone, wandering but not lost : He who from zone to zone Guides, through the boundless sky, thy certain flight, In the lone way which thou must tread alone Will lead thy steps aright. The brave soldier, who in the discharge of high duty has been suddenly shot into eternity by the fire of the enemy, will surely, far more easily than the migrating bird, wing his flight to God, Who, let us pray, will not long withhold him the happy-making vision of Heaven. Pil- grims homeward-bound, as you readily understand, at different stages of their journey will picture Heaven to themselves differently, accord- ing as light or darkness, joy or sorrow encompass them. Some will picture Heaven as the Everlasting Holiday after the drudgery of school life, others as Eternal Happiness after a life of suffering and sorrow, others again as Home after exile, and some others as never-ending Rapture in the sight of God. But to-day, when " f rightfulness " is the creed of the enemy, and warfare with atrocities is his gospel, very many amongst us, weary with the long-drawn battle, sick with its ever-recurring horrors, and broken by its ghastly revelations, will lift up their eyes to a land beyond the stars. FATHER BERNARD VAUGHAN. 162 THE WIDOWS OF BELGIUM 163 Military Necessity IT MAY be asserted that the plea of "Frightfulness" will not be recognized a "military necessity" when Germany is judged, and that this enemy of civilization, even as the enemy of society, will be held responsible for its crimes, though they stand as far above the imagination as beyond the power of a common felon. Bill Sikes may justly claim "military necessity" for his thefts and murders, if Ger- many can do so for hers. Under Article No. 46 of the Regulations of The Hague, we learn that "Family honour and rights, individual life and private property must be respected," and, under Article No 47, "all pillage is expressly forbidden." But while it was a political necessity to subscribe to that fundamental formula of civilization, Germany's heart recognized no real need to do so, and secretly, in cold blood, at the inspiration of her educated and well-born rulers, she plotted the details of a campaign of murder, rape, arson, and pillage, which demanded the breaking of her oath as its preliminary. Well might her Chancellor laugh at "the scrap of paper," which stood between Germany and Belgium, when he reflected on the long list of sacred assurances his perjured country had already planned to break. No viler series of events, in Northern France alone, can be cited than those extracted from the note-books of captured and fallen Germans. Such blood-stained pages must be a tithe of those that returned to Germany, but they furnish a full story of what the rank and file accomplished at the instigation and example of their officers. Space precludes quotation; but one may refer the reader to "Ger- many's Violations of the Laws of War,"* published under the auspices of the French Foreign Office. It is a book that should be on the tables at the Peace Conference. We cannot hang an army for these unspeakable offences, or treat those who burn a village of living beings as we would treat one who made a bonfire of his fellow-man; nor can we condemn to penal servitude a whole nation for bestial outrages on humanity, ordered by its Higher Command and executed by its troops; but at least we may hope soon to find the offending Empire under police supervision of Europe, with a ticket-of-leave, whose conditions shall be as strict as an outraged earth knows how to draw them. EDEN PHILLPOTTS. *Enelish translation. Heinemann. 164 z?r% ON TICKET-OF-LEAVE Convict: "The next time I'll wear a German helmet and plead 'military necessity. 165 Liberte! Liberte, Cherie! THERE have been many surprises in this war. The evil sur- prises, patiently, scientifically, diabolically matured in the dark for the upsetting and downcasting of a too-trusting world by the enemy of mankind, whose "Teuton-faith" will surely forever out- rival that "Punic-faith" which has hitherto been the by-word for perfidious treachery. The heartening surprises of gallant little Belgium and Serbia; the renascence of Russia; the wonderful upleap to the needs of the times by Great, and still more by Greater Britain; and, not least, the bracing of the loins of our closest Allies just across the water. In the very beginning, when the Huns tore up that scrap of paper which represented their honour and their right to a place among decent dwellers on the earth, and came sweeping like a dirty flood over Belgium and Northern France, the overpowering remembrance of 1870 still lay heavy on our sorely-tried neighbours. They had not yet quite found themselves. The Huns had a mighty reputation for invincibility. It seemed impossible to stand against them. There were waverings, even crumplings. There were said to be treacheries in high places. The black flood swept on. Von Kluck was heading for Paris, and seemed likely to get there. Then suddenly, miraculously as it seemed, his course was diverted. He was tossed aside and flung back. And it is good to recall the reason he himself is said to have given for his failure. "At Mons the British taught the French how to die." That is a great saying and worthy of preservation for all time. Whether Yon Kluck said it or not does not matter. It represents and immortalizes a mighty fact. France was bending under the terrible impact. Britain stood and died. France braced her loins and they have been splendidly braced ever since. The Huns were found to be resistible, vulnerable, breakable. The old verve and elan came back with all the old fire, and along with these, new depths of grim courage and tenacity, and, we are told, of spirituality, which may be the making of a new France greater than the world has ever known. And that we shall welcome. France, Belgium, Serbia, Russia have suffered in ways we but faintly comprehend on this side of the water. When the Great Settling Day comes, this new higher spirit of France will, it is to be devoutly hoped, make for restraint in the universal craving for vengeance, and prove a weighty factor in the righteous re-adjustment of things and the proper fitting together of the jig-saw map of Europe. JOHN OXENHAM. 166 LIBERIE! L1BERTE, CHERIE! 167 I — ™A Knavish Piece of Work" THERE can be no defence of the spirit of hatred in which the Germans have, so fatally for their future, carried on this amaz- ing mad war of theirs, in violation of all human instincts of self-respect and self-preservation, to say nothing of the obligations of religion and morality observed among mankind from the first dawnings of civilization. The knavery, the villainy, and the besotted bestiality of it can never be forgotten, and must never be forgiven, and Louis Raemaekers, gifted as he is with the rare dramatic genius that dis- criminates his Cartoons, has but discharged an obvious patriotic duty in publishing them to the world at large, as true and faithful witnesses to the unspeakable and inexpiable abominations wrought throughout Belgium and French Flanders by the Germans — which, already, in the course of Divine retribution, have involved their own country in mate- rial losses it will take from three to four generations to repair; and their once honoured name in contempt, and reprobation, and infamy, where- from it can never be redeemed. Nevertheless, as an Englishman, I shrink from giving any emphasis there may be in my "hand and signature" to these righteously con- demnatory and withering cartoons; and because, each one of them, as I turn to it, brings more and more crushingly home to me the tran- scending sin of England — of every individual Englishman with a vote for Members of Parliament — in not having prepared for this war; a sin that has implicated us in the destruction of the whole rising generation of the flower of our manhood ; and, before this date, would have brought us under subjection to Germany but for the confidence placed by the rank and file of the British people and nation in Lord Kitchener of Khartum. N ow — f ace to face with enemies — from the Kaiser downward to his humblest subjects — animated by the highest, noblest ideals, but again perverted for a time — as in the case of their ancestors in the Middle Ages — by a secular epidemic of "Panmania," they are to be faced not with idle reproaches and revilings, still less with undignified taunts and gibes, but with close-drawn lips and clenched teeth, in the deter- mination that, once having cast Satan out of them, he shall be bound down to keep the peace of Christendom — "for a thousand years." GEORGE BIRDWOOD. 168 WE'LL GIVE YOU THE TITLE OF MPRET OF POLAND The new Governor has had the title of Mpret given to him, the same that was given to the ill-starred Prince of Wied when made ruler of Albania in 1914. 169 II — "Sisyphus, — His Stone •>•> SISYPHUS, as the story goes, was a King who widely extended the commerce, and largely increased the wealth, of Corinth, but by avaricious and fraudful ways; for the sin whereof he was sentenced after death to the unresting labour of rolling up a hill in Tartarus, a huge unhewn block of stone, which so soon as he gets it to the hill top, for all his efforts, rolls down again. In classical representa- tion of the scene he is associated with Tantalus and Ixion; Tantalus, who, presuming too much on his relations with Zeus, was after death afflicted with an unquenchable thirst amidst flowing fountains and pel- lucid lakes — like the lakes of "The Thirst of the Antelope" in the marvellous mirages of Rajputana and Mesopotamia — that ever elude his anguished approaches; and with Ixion, the meanest and basest of cheats, and most demoniac of murderers, whose posthumous punishment was in being stretched, and broken, and bound, in the figure of the svastika, on a wheel which, self-moved — like the wheels of the vision of Ezekiel — whirls forevermore round and round the abyss of the nether world. The moral of these tortures is that we may well and most wisely leave vengeance to "the high Gods." They will repay! GEORGE BIRDWOOD. 170 SISYPHUS 171 Concrete Foundations NOTHING has damned the Germans more in the eyes of other nations, belligerent and neutral alike, and nothing will have a more subtle and lasting influence on future relations, than the revelation of stealthy preparation for conquest under a mask of in- nocent and friendly intercourse. The whole process of "peaceful penetration," pursued in a thousand ways with infernal ingenuity and relentless determination, is an exhibition of systematic treachery such as all the Macchiavellis have never conceived. Germany has revealed herself as a nation of spies and assassins. To take advantage of a neigh- bour's unsuspecting hospitality, to enter his house with an air of open friendship, in order to stab him in the back at a convenient moment, is an act of the basest treachery, denounced by all mankind in all ages. No one would be more shocked by it in private life than the Germans themselves. But when it is undertaken methodically on a national scale under the influence of Deutschland tiber Alles, the same conduct becomes ennobled in their eyes, they throw themselves into it with enthusiasm and lose all sense of honour. Such is the moral perversion worked by Kultur and the German theory of the State. . An inevitable consequence is that in future the movements and pro- ceedings of Germans in other countries will be watched with intense suspicion, and if Governments do not prevent the sort of thing depicted by Mr. Raemaekers the people will see to it themselves. The cartoon is not, of course, intended to reflect personally on the owner of Krupp's works, who is said to be a gentle-minded and blameless lady. It is her misfortune to be associated by the chance of inheritance with the German war machine and one of the underhand methods by which it has pursued its aims. A. SHADWELL. 172 ON CONCRETE FOUNDATIONS Big Bertha: "What a charming view over Flushing harbour! May I build a villa here?" 173 Pallas Athene H AS it come to this?" Well may the Goddess ask this question. Times are indeed changed since the heroic days. Germany has still her great Greek scholars, one or two of them among the greatest living, men who know, and can feel, the spirit, as well as the letter, of the old Classics. Do they remember to- day what the relation of the Goddess of Wisdom was to the God of War, in Homer, when, to use the Latin names which are perhaps more familiar, to the general reader than the Greek, Mars "indulged in lawless rage," and Jove sent Juno and Minerva to check his "f rightfulness?" "Go! and the great Minerva be thine aid; To tame the monster-god Minerva knows, And oft afflicts his brutal breast with woes." and how the hero Diomede, with Minerva's aid, wounded the divine bully and sent him bellowing and whimpering back, only to hear from his father the just rebuke: "To me, perfidious! this lamenting strain? Of lawless force shall lawless Mars complain? Of all the gods who tread the spangled skies, Thou most unjust, most odious in our eyes! Inhuman discord is thy dear delight, The waste of slaughter, and the rage of fight!" It is most true. Such has ever been War for War's sake, and when the Germans themselves are wounded and beaten, they complain like Mars of old of "lawless force." But Raemaekers has introduced another touch more Roman than Greek, and reminding us perhaps of Tacitus rather than of Homer. Who was Caligula, and what does his name mean? "Little Jack-boots," in his childhood the spoiled child of the camp, as a man, and Caesar, the first of the thoroughly mad, as well as had, Emperors of Rome, the first to claim divine honours in his lifetime, to pose as an artist and an architect, an orator and a litterateur, to have executions carried out under his own eyes, and while he was at meals; who made himself a God, and his horse a Consul. Minerva blacking the boots of Caligula — it is a clever combination ! But there is an even worse use of Pallas, which War and the German War-lords have made. They have found a new Pallas of their own, not the supernal Goddess of Heavenly Wisdom and Moderation, but her infernal counterfeit, sung of by a famous English poet in prophetic lines that come back to us to-day with new force. Who loves not Knowledge, who shall rail Against her beauty, may she mix With men and prosper, who shall fix Her pillars? let her work prevail. Yes, but how do the lines continue? What is she cut from love and faith But some wild Pallas from the brain Of Demons, fiery hot to burst All barriers in her onward race For power? Let her know her place, She is the second, not the first. Knowledge is power, but, unrestrained by conscience, a very awful power. This is the Pallas whom the "Demons," from whose brain she has sprung, are using for their demoniac purposes. She too might have her portrait painted — and they. Perhaps Raemaekers will paint them both before he has done. HERBERT WARNER. 174 Pallas Athene: "Has it come to this?" 175 The Wonders of Culture OF ALL forms of "Kultur" or " f rightfulness " that which mate- rializes in the "the terror which flieth by night" is to the intelligent mind at one and the same time the most insensate and damnable. It fails to accomplish, either in Paris or in London, the subjugation by terror of the people for which Germans seem to hope. It is only in German imagination that it accomplishes "material and satisfactory damage to forts, camps, arsenals, and fortified towns." In reality it inflicts misery and death upon a mere handful of people (horrible as that may be) and destroys chiefly the homes of the poor. It serves no military end, and the damage done is out of all proportion to the expenditure of energy and material used to accomplish it. The fine cartoon which Raemaekers has drawn to bring home to the imagination what this form of "Kultur" stands for makes it easy for us in London to sympathize with our brothers and sisters in Paris. We have as yet been spared daylight raids in the Metropolitan area, and so we needed this cartoon to enable us to realize fully what "Kultur" by indiscriminate Zeppelin bombs means. Who cannot see the cruel drama played out in that Paris street? The artist has assembled for us in a few living figures all the actors. The dead woman; the orphaned child, as yet scarcely realizing her loss; the bereaved workman, calling down the vengeance of Heaven upon the murderers from the air; the stern faces of the sergents de ville, evidently feeling keenly their impotence to protect; and in the back- ground other sergents, the lines of whose bent backs convey in a mar- vellous manner and with a touch of real genius the impression of tender solicitude for the injured they are tending. And faintly indicated, further still in the background, the crowd that differs little, whether it be French or English, in its deeper emotions. CLIVE HOLLAND. 176 THE WONDERS OF CULTURE 177 "Folk Who Do Not Understand Them" HOW often have I been asked by sorrow-stricken mothers and wives: "Why does not Providence intervene either to stop this war, or at least to check its cruelties and horrors?" If for many amongst us not yet bereaved this European massacre is a puzzle, it should not cause us dismay or surprise, if the widow or son-bereaved mother lifts up her hands exclaiming: "Why did not God save him? Why did He let him be shot down by those Huns?" Truth to tell, God has, so to speak, tied up His own hands in setting ours free. When He placed the human race upon the surface of this planet He dowered them with freedom, giving to each man self-determining force, by the exercise of which he was to become better than a man or worse than a beast. Good and evil, like wheat and cockle, grow together, in the same field. The winnowing is at harvest- time, not before. Meanwhile, we ourselves have lived to see the fairest portions of this fair creation of God changed from a garden into a desert — pillaged, ravaged, and brought to utter ruin by shot and shell, sword and fire. When I have said this, I have but uttered a foreword to the hideous story, spoken the prologue only of the "frightful" tragedy. We are all familiar with at least some of the revolting facts and details with which the German soldiery has been found charged and convicted by Commissions appointed to investigate the crimes and atrocities adduced against them. The verdicts of French, Belgian, and English tribunals are unanimous. They all agree that Germany has been caught redhanded in her work of dyeing the map of Europe red with innocent blood. When you bend your eyes to the pathetic cartoon standing opposite this letter- press, is there not brought home to you in a way, touching even to tears, the ' ' frightful ' ' consequences of the misuse of human powers, more especially of the attribute of freedom? If Germany had chosen to use, instead of brute force, moral force, what a great, grand, and glorious mission might have been hers to-day. If, instead of trying the impossible task of dominating the whole world with her iron hand upon its throat and her iron heel upon its foot, she had been satisfied with the portion of the map already belonging to her, and had not by processes of bureaucratic tyranny driven away millions of her subjects who preferred liberty to slavery, America to Germany, by this date she might have consolidated an Empire second in the world to none but one. Alas! in her over-reaching arrogance she has, on the contrary, set out to de-Christianize, de-civilize, and even de-humanize the race for which Christ lived and died. Our high mission it is to try to save her from herself. Already I can read written in letters of blood carved into the gravestone of her corrupted greatness, "Ill-weaved ambition, How much art thou shrunk!" BERNARD VAUGHAN. 178 LES BEAUTES DE LA GUERRE Folk who do not understand them. 179 On the Way to Calais THEY are coming, like a tempest, in their endless ranks of gray, While the world throws up a cloud of dust upon their awful way; They're the glorious cannon fodder of the mighty Fatherland, Born to make the kingdoms tremble and the nations understand. Tramp ! Tramp ! Tramp ! the cannon fodder come Along their way to Calais; (God help the hearth and home.) They'll do his will who taught them, on the earth and on the waves, Till land and sea are festering with their unnumbered graves. The garrison and barrack and the fortress give them vent; They sweep, a herd of winter wolves, upon the flying scent; For all their deeds of horror they are told that death atones, And their master's harvest cannot spring till he has sowed their bones. Into beasts of prey he's turned them; when they show their teeth and growl The lash is buried in their cheeks; they're slaughtered if they howl; To their bloody Lord of Battles must they only bend the knee, For hard as steel and fierce as hell should cannon fodder be. Scourge and curses are their portion, pain and hunger without end, Till they hail the yell of shrapnel as the welcome of a friend; They drink and burn and rape and laugh to hear the women cry, And do the devil's work to-day, but on the morrow die. Drift! Drift! Drift! the cannon fodder go Upon their way to Calais, (God feed the carrion crow.) They've done his will who taught them that the Germans shall be slaves, Till land and sea are festering with their unnumbered graves. EDEN PHILLPOTTS. 180 THE YSER 'We are on our way to Calais. 181 Von Bethmann-Hollweg and Truth " Incorrupta Fides, nudaque Veritas." Horace. "Good Faith unstained, and Truth all-unadorned." •iy jUDA VERITAS: it was Horace who in a famous Ode first presented the /\ / figure of Truth thus. And whom did he make her companions and sisters? 1 V They were three, and their names were "Modesty," "Fair Dealing," and "Good Faith." The four sisters do indeed go together in a quadruple alliance and entente, and when one is flouted or estranged, the others are alienated and become enemies too. The Germans were believed to be — some few still believe them to be — a "truth- loving nation." They had a passion, we were told, for truth, for accuracy, for scientific exactness. Theirs might be a blunt and brutal frankness, but they were at least downright and truthful. Well, they first flouted Modesty — they bragged and blustered, bluffed and "bounded." They could not keep it up. They had to act. Fair Dealing went by the board. Then Good Faith became impossible, for, as this very von Bethmann- Hollweg declared, "Necessity knew no law." Now they have forsaken Truth. They must deceive their own people. The "lie" has entered into their soul. Never was so systematic a use made of falsehoods small and great. But Truth expelled is not powerless. Naked, she is still not weaponless. She has her little "periscope," her magic mirror, which shows the liar himself, as well as the world, what he is like. And she has another weapon, as those who know their "Paradise Lost" will remember: "Bright Ithuriel's lance Truth kindling truth where'er it glance." It is not shown here, for it is invisible, but none the less potent. With it Truth can indeed "shame the devil." She not only shows what the liar is like outside, but reveals his inner hideousness, and actual shape, for all to see. There are many sayings about Truth, and they are all awkward for the liar. "Truth will out," said a witty English judge, "even in an affidavit." It will out, even in a German Chancellor's dementi. The most famous is "Magna est Veritas et prawalet" "Great is Truth and she prevails," in the end. Yes, "She is on the path, and nothing will stop her." She started on the hills of the little but free republic of Switzerland ; she is slowly traversing the plains of the vast free republic of America. Her last contest will be over the Germans themselves. HERBERT WARREN. 182 .—L'OUiS r"\wrT>n«'Uj'\s . VON BETHMANN-HOLLWEG AND TRUTH "Truth is on the path and nothing will stay her." 183 Van Tromp and De Ruyter A GENERATION ago a little clique of wise men at Oxford patted themselves on the back for having discovered "The Historical Method." But the common people of all countries have always known it. The names of the great dead are not forgotten, nor yet the great things for which they stood. There may be no strict liturgy for the ancestor worship of the West, but that worship is a simple fact, and it is a thing that timorous politicians would do well to remember. Here Raemaekers appeals to his countrymen to regard their past, to be worthy of the great seamen who took the Dutch fleet up the Medway, and lashed brooms to the mast-head of the ships that swept the sea clear of British enemies. The Dutch were fighting for their liberty then. Great Britain is fighting for liberty in Europe to-day — and for Dutch liberty to boot. The enemy of all liberty uses Holland as a short cut whereby her pirates of the air can get more quickly to their murder work in England. Would the hero ancestors, of whom the Dutch so boast, have tolerated this indignity? The artist seer supplies the answer. Note the mixture of the ghostly and the real in this vivid and viva- cious drawing. But if it is easy to see through the faint outlines of the sailor spirits, it is easier for these gallant ghosts to see through the unrealities of their descendants' fears and hesitations. The anger of the heroes is plainly too great for words. How compressed the lips! How tense the attitude! The hands gripped in the angriest sort of impatience! Mark the subtle mingling of seaman and burgher in the poise and figures. Mark particularly Van Tromp's stiffened forefinger on his staff. Is the fate of L19 the fruit of our artist's stinging reminder that Holland once had nobler spirits and braver days? ARTHUR POLLEN. 184 — L.t'i'i'- { ^erhq »l«■•<<:* • 2I M . THE PROMISE " We shall never sheath the sword until Belgium recovers all, and more than all that she has sacrificed."— Mr. Asquith, 9th November, 1914. 239 Serbia THE fight of the one and the four might, in view of the difference in the size of the combatants, be called quite fairly "the fight of the one and the fifty-three." Each of the assailants has his own character. Germany is represented as a ferocious giant; Austria follows Prussia's lead, a little the worse for wear, with a band- aged head as the souvenir of his former campaign : he does his best to look and act like Germany. Bulgaria loses not a moment, but puts his rifle to his shoulder to shoot the small enemy : he acts in his own way, according to his own character: kill the enemy as quickly as possible and seize the spoil, that is his principle. Turkey is a rather broken- down and dilapidated figure, who is preparing to use his bayonet, but has not got it quite ready. Serbia, erect, with feet firmly planted, stands facing the chief enemy, a little David against this big Goliath and his henchman, Austria; and the other two, so recently deadly foes, now standing shoulder to shoulder, attack him while his attention is directed on Germany. The leader and "hero" of this assault is Prussia, big, brutal, remorseless. The Dutch artist always concentrates the spectator's attention on him. You can almost hear the roar coming out of his mouth: "Gott strafe Serbien." This is the figure, as Raemaekers paints him, that goes straight for his object, regardless of moral con- siderations. Serbia is in his way, and Serbia must be trampled in the mire. The artist's sympathy is wholly with Serbia, who is pictured as the man fighting against the brute, slight but active and noble in build, facing this burly foe. And poor old Turkey ! Always a figure of comedy, never ready in time, always ineffective, never fully able to use the weapons of so- called "civilization." Let it always be remembered that in the Gal- lipoli peninsula, when the Turks at first were taking no prisoners, but killing the wounded after their own familiar fashion with mutila- tion, for the sake of such spoil as could be carried away, Enver Pasha issued an order that thirty piastres should be paid for every prisoner brought in alive, a noble and humane regulation. Let us hope that the reward was always paid, not stolen on the way, as has been so often the case in Turkey. WILLIAM MITCHELL RAMSAY. 240 f rS _ SERBIA Now we can make an end of him." 241 Jackals in the Political Field WHEN the tiger," says the naturalist, "has killed some large animal, such as a buffalo which he cannot consume at one time, the jackals collect round the carcase at a respectful distance and wait patiently until the tiger moves off. Then they rush from all directions, carousing upon the slaughtered buffalo, each anxious to eat as much as it can contain in the shortest time." The human jackal is one of the most squalid and sordid creatures and features of war. We saw him in Dublin the other day emerging from his slum den to loot Sackville Street. Every battlefield feeds its carrion beasts and birds. This picture of Belgium and its jackals is doubtless only too true. Mr. Raemakers and the Dutch have better means of knowing than we. The jackal, says the same naturalist, belongs to the Canidx, the "dog tribe." The scientific name of the true dog is Canis familiar is, "the household dog." The jackal is Canis aureus, the "gold dog." The epithet describes no doubt his colour. The human Canis aureus perhaps deserves his title on not less obvious grounds. "The continent of Europe," the naturalist goes on, "is free from the jackal." It was supposed till yesterday to be free from the lion and tiger. But in the prehistoric times of the cave man, geologists say, there was both in England and Europe the great "sabre-tooth" tiger. Kipling, who knows everything about beasts, knows him and puts him into his "Story of Ung": "The sabre-tooth tiger dragging a man to his lair." To-day the cave tiger has come back and with him the cave jackal. There is a terrible beauty about the tiger. The jackal is a mean and hideous brute. But both are out of date. Did not Mon- sieur Capus say the other day that Europe "cannot allow a return of the cave epoch?" HERBERT WARREN. 242 JACKALS IN THE POLITICAL FIELD Jackals (Flemish Pro-Germans): "What he leaves of Belgium will be enough for us." 243 A Letter from the German Trenches IN THIS cartoon Raemaekers has contrived to indicate powerfully what is after all the dominant and peculiar note of the German people. No European nation has ever taken war — as people say — so "seriously," that is, with so much concentration of attention and elaborate preparation, as has the German Empire. No people has ever had it so thoroughly drilled into its collective mind as have the German subjects of that Empire that war is not only, as all Christian people have always believed, an expedient lawful and necessary upon oc- casion, but a thing highly desirable in itself, nay, the principal function of a "superior" race and the main end of its being. And yet after all the actual German is never, like the Frenchman, a natural and instinctive warrior — any more than he is, like the Englishman, a natural and instinctive adventurer. The whole busi- ness of Prussian militarism, with the half-witted philosophy by which it is justified, has to be imposed upon him from without by his masters. He fights just as he works, just as he tortures, violates, and murders, because he is told to do so by persons in a superior position, holding themselves stiffly, dressed in uniform, and able to hit him in the face with a whip. Long before the war the absurd Koepenick incident gave us a glimpse of this astonishing docility on its farcical side. Its tragic side is well illustrated by the droves of helpless and inarticulate bar- barians driven into the shambles daily (as at Verdun) for the sole purpose of covering up the blunders of their very "efficient" superiors. One could pity the wretches if there were not so considerable a leaven of wickedness in their stupidity. CECIL CHESTERTON. 244 A LETTER FROM THE GERMAN TRENCHES We have gained a good bit; our cemeteries now extend as far as the sea. 245 His Master's Voice THE manipulation of the Press is one of the weapons which Bismarck taught German Imperialism to use. Like others it has been developed by his successors into an instrument which the master himself would hardly have recognized. It is one of the most potent means of that "peaceful penetration" of all other coun- tries which was nothing but a preparation for war. And it has been used in the war with a purposefulness of aim and a versatility of method that betoken long and systematic study. It is a ubiquitous influence and the most subtle of all. Yet the Press is held in greater contempt by official and other ruling circles in Germany than in any other country. They despise the tool, while tacitly acknowledging its utility by unsparing use. This curious state of things is the fault of the Press. What has rendered it such a pliant tool in the hands of German Imperialism is either credulity or venality; and both are contemptible qualities. Credulity is probably the more prevalent, at least in this country, where shoals of newspapers, blinded by their own prejudices, were the dupes of German duplicity. But there has been venality, too, both crude and subtle. The case of the "Vlaamsche Sten," here satirized by Raemaekers, is exceptional. So crude and gross a method of influencing the Press as bribing the proprietor of a newspaper (prob- ably with the aid of threats) to hand it over with its staff and good- will could hardly be practised where any independence survived. It was not practised with success even in conquered Flanders, for the staff, to their eternal credit, refused to listen to the new master's voice. But there are journalists who, less intelligent than the terrier, faithfully accept the voice from the Pickelhaube and wag their little tails when they hear it. To them is offered the parable which shows their relation to their master. A. SHADWELL. 246 HIS MASTER'S VOICE The Vlaamsche Stem (Flemish Voice), a Flemish paper, was bought by the Germans, whereupon the whole staff resigned, as it no longer represented its title. 247 Hun Generosity THE All-Highest, so we are told, loves a joke at another's expense, a trait in his character essentially barbaric. Raemaekers reproduces the twinkle in the Imperial eye as William of Potsdam offers to a quondam ally the foot which belongs to his senile and helpless brother of Hapsburg. The roar of anguish from the prostrate octogenarian provokes, as we see, not pity but a grim smile. Italy's monarch, we may imagine, is muttering to himself: — Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes. The bribe, wrenched from another, was, of course, indignantly re- jected, but one wonders what the secret feelings of the Hapsburgs may be toward the Hohenzollerns. We know that the Turk cherishes no love for the Hun who has beguiled him, but we cannot gauge as yet the real strength or weakness of the bond between the Huns on the one hand and the Austrians and Hungarians on the other. Raemaekers has portrayed Franz Josef flat on his back. In the language of the ring he is "down and out." Possibly it may have been so from the beginning. At any rate, in this country, there is an amiable dis- position to regard Franz Josef as a victim rather than an accomplice, a weakling writhing beneath the jack-boot of Prussia, impotent to hold his own. It may not be so. Time alone will reveal the truth. But this much is reasonably certain. When peace is declared, the sincere friendship which once existed between ourselves and the Dual Monarchy may be reestablished, but many years must pass before we for- give or forget the Huns. They are boasting to-day that as a nation they are self-sufficing and self-supporting. Amen! Most of us desire nothing better than to leave them alone till they have mended their manners and purged themselves of a colossal and unendurable conceit. I cannot envisage Huns playing tennis at Wimbledon, or English girls studying music at Leipzig. The grass in the streets of Homburg will not, for many years, be trodden out by English feet; the harpies of hotel keepers throughout the Happy Fatherland will prey, it may be presumed, upon their fellow Huns. Then they will fall to "strafing" each other instead of England. And then, as now, their mouthings will provoke inextinguishable laughter. HORACE ANNESLEY VACHELL. 248 •HAVE ANOTHER PIECE? 249 Easter, 1915 EVER since with the beginning of Christendom a new soul entered the body of exhausted Europe, it is true to say that we have not only had a certain idea but been haunted by it, as by a ghost. It is the idea crystallized in legends like those of St. Chris- topher and St. Martin. But it is equally apparent in the most modern ethics and eloquence, as, for instance, when a French atheist orator urged the reconsideration of a criminal case by pointing at the pic- tured Crucifixion which hangs in a French Law Court and saying: "Voila la chose jugee." It is the idea when that oppressing the lowest we may actually be oppressing the highest, and that not even impersonally, but personally. We may be, as it were, the victims of a divine masquerade; and discover that the greatest of kings can travel incognito. Such a picture, therefore, as the cartoonist has drawn here can be found in all ages of Christian history as a comment on contemporary oppression. But while the central figure remains always the same, the types of the tyrant and the mocker hold our temporary attention; for they are sketched from life and with a living exactitude. Upon one of them especially it would be easy to say a great deal: the grinning Prussian youth with the spectacles and the monkey face, who is using a Prussian helmet instead of the crown of thorns. Such a scientific gutter-snipe is the real and visible fruit of or- ganized German education; he is a much truer type than any gory and hairy Hun. In the face of that young atheist there is everything that can come from the congestion of the pagan with the parvenu; all the knowingness that is the cessation of knowledge; and that something which always accompanies real atheism — arrested development. G. K. CHESTERTON. 250 ---L'j^fy-'-'' EASTER, 1915 'And the}' bowed the knee before Him. 251 Pan Germanicus as Peace Maker IMAGINE the feelings of the hindlegs of a stage elephant on being told that the performance is to be a continuous one and you will have some inkling of the dismay of the Kaiser and his henchman, concealed in the plumage of the War Eagle and the Dove of Peace respectively. The one bird is as useless as the other in bringing the war to the end desired in Berlin. The stage eagle is daily losing its plumage, and is rapidly becoming but a moulty apology for the king of birds. As for the dove, it has been used so often, with con- stantly changing olive branch in its beak, that it now makes its ap- pearance shamefacedly and absolutely without heart. Imperial eagle mask with half-mad military quasi-deity inside and dove of peace, on the German model, with calculating miscalculating statesman, you rang the curtain up, you cannot ring it down, either to the music of the Hymn of Hate or the Te Deum for peace— the eagle can no longer look boldly straight into the sun, looking for his place in it; the dove has taken permanent quarters in the German ark as it whirls round and round in the whirlpool of impotent effort, ever drawing nearer to the final crash. When the Dove of Peace does come, it will be a real bird of good omen, not a German reserve officer mas- querading as one. ALFRED STEAD. 252 -Lows rY»emae| Li -.T^ciemn^C-. LONDON— INSIDE THE SAVOY 301 London — Outside the Savoy THE newsboy, under military age; one man, well over military age; three women — and all the rest in uniform — even the top of the bus that shows in the distance is filled with soldiers. Thus Raemaekers sees the Strand, one of the principal thoroughfares of the heart of the British Empire. For the sake of contrast with the companion cartoon, "Inside the Savoy," there is a slight exaggeration in this view of London street life in war-time — the proportion of civilians to soldiers is neces- sarily greater than this, or the national life could not go on. A host of industries are necessary to the prosecution of the war, and it falls to some men to stay behind — many of them unwillingly. There was a time, in the early days, when Britain suffered from an under-estimate of the magnitude of this task of war — a time which the cartoon "Inside the Savoy" typifies in its presentment of careless enjoyment. But that attitude was soon dispelled, and it is significant of the spirit of the nation that only when nine-tenths of the necessary army had been raised by voluntary — indeed, this is a certainty, for not until long after the cartoon was published did any conscripts appear in the streets. Though, in the proportion of soldiers to civil- ians, the cartoon may exaggerate, in its presentment of the spirit of the nation, and of the determination of the nation with regard to the war, it is true to life. E. CHARLES VIVIAN. 302 LONDON— OUTSIDE THE SAVOY 303 The Invocation THIS drawing touches the highest level of the draughtsman's art and demonstrates the unique power of the pencil in a master hand. So simple, so true, so complete, so direct and so eloquent is the message that words can add nothing to it. They can only pay a tribute of appreciation. Everybody can read the meaning at a glance; none can read it wholly unmoved. For here is pure humanity, which none can escape, the primal instinct without which man that is born of woman would not be. Before this weak, bowed, and homely figure Knowledge is silent, Pride and Passion are rebuked. Strength is shamed. Mother- hood and mother-love transcend them all. There is here nothing of anger, no thought of hostility or revenge, no trace of evil passion. Only a mother yearning after her son and pleading to another mother, the Divine type of motherhood, the Mother of God. And what she asks is so little, only to see him again. She has given him, as the mother to whom she prays gave her Son, and she does, not demand him back. She reproaches no one, accuses no one, makes no complaint and no claim for herself, but meekly pleads that she may be allowed to see him again to still the longing in her breast. She is a woman of the people, a simple peasant, but she personifies all mothers in every war, as she bows her silvered head in humble prayer at the way-side shrine. A. SHADWELL. 304 MON FILS— BELGIUM, 1914 Let me see him again, Holy Virgin! 305 THE COUNTRY UFE PRESS GARDEN CITY, N. Y. H 52-79