Unquestionably there are limitations imposed by humanity which must not be transcended. A country must not be wasted, or buildings destroyed, unless under some commanding necessity. This great power must not be wantonly employed. Men must not become barbarians. But, if, in the pursuit of the enemy, or for purposes of defence, property must be destroyed, then by International Law it can be done. This is the rule. Vattel, while pleading justly and with persuasive examples for the preservation of works of art, such as temples, tombs, and structures of remarkable beauty, admits that even these may be sacrificed:-- “If for the operations of war, to advance the works in a siege, it is necessary to destroy edifices of this nature, one has undoubtedly the right to do so. The sovereign of the country, or his general, destroys them indeed himself, when the necessities or the maxims of war invite thereto. The governor of a besieged city burns its suburbs, to prevent the besiegers from obtaining a lodgment therein. Nobody thinks of blaming him who lays waste gardens, vineyards, orchards, in order to pitch his tent and intrench himself there.”[8] This same rule is recognized by Manning, in his polished and humane work, less frequently quoted, but entitled always to great respect. This interesting writer expresses himself as follows:-- “It is clearly a belligerent’s right to destroy the enemy’s property _as far as necessary in making fortifications_.… Destruction of the enemy’s property is justifiable as far as indispensable for the purposes of warfare, but no further.”[9] With the limitations which I have tried to exhibit, the rule is beyond question in the relations between nations. Do you call it harsh? Undoubtedly it is so. It is war, which from beginning to end is terrible harshness. Without the incidents sanctioned by this rule war would be changed, so that it would be no longer war. It was such individual calamities that Shakespeare had in mind, when he spoke of “the purple testament of bleeding war”; and it was such which entered into the vision of that other poet, when, in words of remarkable beauty, he pictured, by way of contrast, the blessings of peace:-- “Straight forward goes The lightning’s path, and straight the fearful path Of the cannon-ball. Direct it flies, and rapid, Shattering that it may reach, and shattering what it reaches. My son! the road the human being travels, That on which blessing comes and goes, doth follow The river’s course, the valley’s playful windings, Curves round the cornfield and the hill of vines, Honoring the holy bounds of property; And thus, secure, though late, leads to its end.”[10]