the pickets of the two armies, each of them as earnest as any Germans, would exchange courtesies, how they would shout warnings to each other to fall back when an advance in force was taking place, and how to prevent the destruction of an ancient bridge, the British promised not to use it on condition that the French would forgo its destruction—­an agreement faithfully kept upon either side.  Could one imagine Germans making war in such a spirit as this?  Think of that old French bridge, and then think of the University of Louvain and the Cathedral of Rheims.  What a gap between them—­the gap that separates civilization from the savage!

Let us take a few of the points which, when focused together, show how the Germans have degraded warfare—­a degradation which affects not only the Allies at present, but the whole future of the world, since if such examples were followed the entire human race would, each in turn, become the sufferers.  Take the very first incident of the war, the mine laying by the Koenigin Luise.  Here was a vessel, which was obviously made ready with freshly charged mines some time before there was any question of a general European war, which was sent forth in time of peace, and which, on receipt of a wireless message, began to spawn its hellish cargo across the North Sea at points fifty miles from land in the track of all neutral merchant shipping.  There was the keynote of German tactics struck at the first possible instant.  So promiscuous was the effect that it was a mere chance which prevented the vessel which bore the German Ambassador from being destroyed by a German mine.  From first to last some hundreds of people have lost their lives on this tract of sea, some of them harmless British trawlers, but the greater number sailors of Danish and Dutch vessels pursuing their commerce as they had every right to do.  It was the first move in a consistent policy of murder.

Leaving the sea, let us turn to the air.  Can any possible term save a policy of murder be applied to the use of aircraft by the Germans?  It has always been a principle of warfare that unfortified towns should not be bombarded.  So closely has it been followed by the British that one of our aviators, flying over Cologne in search of a Zeppelin shed, refrained from dropping a bomb in an uncertain light, even though Cologne is a fortress, lest the innocent should suffer.  What is to be said, then, for the continual use of bombs by the Germans which have usually been wasted in the destruction of cats or dogs, but which have occasionally torn to pieces some woman or child?  If bombs were dropped on the forts of Paris as part of a scheme for reducing the place, then nothing could be said in objection, but how are we to describe the action of men who fly over a crowded city dropping bombs promiscuously which can have no military effect whatever, and are entirely aimed at the destruction of innocent civilians?  These men have been obliging enough to drop their cards as well