of intercourse. Rhythm, symmetry, the composition of lines, the grouping of colours and forms, go to make up his language; and in this manner he unburdens his heart to his fellow-men. Thus the greatest value of a work of art lies in its action as a medium of high intercourse by means of vision and aspect in place of language.

When we look at the works of a master in this art of spiritual expression we are stirred and stimulated by the sensations which he himself has experienced, we read off the message which he has put before us, we see things from his point of view; and a bond of emotional and intellectual sympathy is created between us which could have been established by no other means. In most cases the message thus conveyed is of an ideal nature, telling of emotions which are exalted altogether above the common incidents of the day, and placing us in touch with those beauties of life which are usually regarded as being in some manner God-given. The galleries of pictures and statuary which the Germans ransacked, the groups of splendid monuments and edifices which they blew to pieces, are the libraries of men's souls, where, through our eyes, we may receive the spiritual communications of the masters, and may be linked one to another by sympathy and understanding. In this manner works of art constitute the most powerful bond between the nations; for they connect man to man without regard to nationality. Where a babel of languages leads to confusion and misunderstanding, Art speaks with a voice that men of all races can comprehend; it speaks through the senses, and the language of the senses is common to all mankind.

The writer in the Dresden Nachrichten told his

readers that the destruction of Italian works of art would be Italy's just punishment; and evidently he had no belief that the loss would also be felt by his own nation. In his warlike frenzy he had no wish to come into touch with the point of view of other people; and, moreover, his war-dedicated mind regarded with mistrust all consideration of what may be called a spiritual subject. His stern philosophy dulled his brains and blunted his wits; and he refused to admit either the possibility or the desirability of receiving any stimulation from the work of foreign hands. A picture for him was simply paint and canvas, and Italian paint and canvas were enemy goods. Similarly in regard to the French cathedrals which he shot nearly to pieces he admitted the sanctity of neither the art nor the religion of France. Or if there were a glimmering in his mind that such works were the medium for the expression of a point of view, and as such were the cherished vehicles of international sympathy, he shunned with so much the more decision the contamination of non-Germanic ideals. The essence of his system was anti-democratic: it was entirely opposed to internationalisation or to any tolerant and benevolent understanding between the peoples of the world; and anything that led to such a condition was scorned by him as being incompatible with those tyrannical doctrines of the mailed fist, to which in his frenzy he clung.

It is not necessary here to discuss the many arguments of an idealistic kind which can be advanced in favour of the preservation of antiquities. I have stated simply two practical lines of thought: namely, that antiquities regarded as relics of a past age have the same value as documentary records, and illustrate

the story of the development of the soul of mankind; and that, regarded as works of art, they serve as an international bond, putting us in touch with the aspirations and the high endeavour of all races and of all periods. In either case, antiquities are seen to be of untold value to the world. On the one hand, they put the people of to-day au fait with the movement of the intellect of other ages; they keep us in touch with past experience, and give us the benefit of earlier effort. On the other hand, they enlarge the breadth of our outlook and put the thought of the different races of the world before us in its spiritual aspect more clearly than written records could put it. In either case they perform a function which is essential to that unity of mankind and that international tolerance upon which the future peace of the earth must be based. We fought for the maintenance of what may be termed the soul of the world; and to destroy antiquities is to destroy the record and the manifestation of that soul. We fought, or so we believed, for the cessation of international misunderstanding, and to destroy works of art is to destroy a vital bond of sympathy between the nations. We fought for the happiness and well-being of our children's children; and we must hand on to them intact the good things that we receive from the past and the present: not only the things that we, in our own phase of thought, consider good but all those which the past has cherished and the future may find of value. To obliterate now anything which may be the inspiration of our descendants is against the principles for which we should strive. The Germans of the old régime deliberately destroyed the records of early ideals as worthless to their materialistic civilisation. We

fought, and toiled, and poured out our blood and our treasure, that idealism, sympathy, tolerance, understanding, and good will might be established on this earth for ever. The dream has not been realised after all, but a right appreciation of the value of the records of the past will assuredly help towards its attainment

CHAPTER V

THE MORALITY OF EXCAVATION

I AM asked with great frequency by travellers in Egypt and persons interested in Egyptology why it is that the excavation of ancient tombs is permitted. Surely, they say, the dead ought to be left to rest in peace. How would we like it were foreigners to come to England and ransack our graveyards? Is it not a sacrilege to expose to view once more the sepulchres and the mummies of the Pharaohs?

Questions of this kind, suggesting disapprobation of the primary actions of archæology, were at first inclined to take the breath away; but it soon became clear that in every case they were asked in all sincerity and were deserving of a studied reply. Moreover, there is no doubt that the whole subject of the morality of excavation, and the circumstances under which it is justifiable or unjustifiable, has been much neglected, and is liable to considerable misapprehension. I therefore venture here to play the part of an apologist and to explain the attitude assumed towards excavation by the small group of Egyptologists of what may be called the modern school, that it may serve as a response, halting but sincere, to this recurrent inquiry.

The main argument in favour of the excavation of tombs by archæologists is easily stated. The careful