d we are singing "Over There!"

In those first months of the war there was, we were told, in England
and France a revival of "religion," and indeed many of the books then
written gave evidence of having been composed in exalted, mystic moods.
I remember one in particular, called "En Campagne," by a young French
officer. And then, somehow, the note of mystic exaltation died away,
to be succeeded by a period of realism. Read "Le Feu," which is most
typical, which has sold in numberless editions. Here is a picture
of that other aspect--the grimness, the monotony, and the frequent
bestiality of trench life, the horror of slaughtering millions of men
by highly specialized machinery. And yet, as an American, I strike
inevitably the note of optimism once more. Even now the truer spiritual
goal is glimpsed through the battle clouds, and has been hailed in
world-reverberating phrases by our American President. Day by day the
real issue is clearer, while the "religion" it implies embraces not
one nation, wills not one patriotism, but humanity itself. I heard a
Frenchwoman who had been deeply "religious" in the old sense exclaim: "I
no longer have any faith in God; he is on the side of the Germans." When
the war began there were many evidences of a survival of that faith that
God fights for nations, interferes in behalf of the "righteous"
cause. When General Joffre was in America he was asked by one of our
countrywomen how the battle of the Marne was won. "Madame," he is
reported to have said, "it was won by me, by my generals and soldiers."
The tendency to regard this victory, which we hope saved France and the
Western humanitarian civilization we cherish, as a special interposition
of Providence, as a miracle, has given place to the realization that
the battle was won by the resourcefulness, science, and coolness of the
French commander-in-chief. Science preserves armies, since killing, if
it has to be done, is now wholly within that realm; science heals the
wounded, transports them rapidly to the hospitals, gives the shattered
something still to live for; and, if we are able to abandon the
sentimental view and look facts in the face--as many anointed chaplains
in Europe are doing--science not only eliminates typhoid but is able to
prevent those terrible diseases that devastate armies and nations. And
science is no longer confined to the physical but has invaded the
social kingdom, is able to weave a juster fabric into the govern