destroyed. I should estimate that when I saw it in July at least half
the houses in it were standing entire, and, though disfigured, were
capable of being rapidly repaired. Thousands of the humble of
Ypres could return to their dwellings and resume home-life there
with little trouble, provided that the economic situation was fairly
favourable--and, of course, sooner or later the economic situation is
bound to be favourable, for the simple reason that it must ultimately
depend upon the exertions of a people renowned throughout the
world for hard and continuous industry.

On the other hand, practically all that was spectacular in the city, all
the leading, all the centre round which civic activities had grouped
themselves for centuries, is destroyed. Take the Grande Place. If
Ypres is to persist in a future at all comparable to its immediate past
(to say nothing of its historic past), the privately owned buildings on
the Grande Place will, without exception, have to be begun all over
again, and before that task can be undertaken the foundations will
have to be cleared--a tremendous undertaking in itself. I do not
know how many privately owned buildings there were on the
Grande Place, but I will guess a hundred and fifty, probably none of
which was less than three stories in height. All these buildings
belonged to individuals, individuals who intimately possessed them
and counted on them as a source of income or well-being,
individuals who are now scattered, impoverished, and acutely
discouraged. The same is to be said of the Rue de Lille and of other
important streets.

Suppose the Germans back again in the land of justice, modesty,
and unselfishness; and suppose the property-owners of Ypres
collected once more in Ypres. The enterprise of reconstruction
facing them will make such a demand of initiative force and mere
faith as must daunt the most audacious among them. And capital
dragged out of a bankrupt Germany will by no means solve the
material problem. For labour will be nearly as scarce as money; the
call for labour in every field cannot fail to surpass in its urgency any
call in history. The simple contemplation of the gigantic job will be
staggering. To begin with, the withered and corrupt dead will have to
be excavated from the cellars, and when that day comes those will
be present who can say: "This skeleton was So-and-So's child,"
"That must have been my mother." Terrific hours await Ypres. And
when (or if) t