we were instantly
'disarmed,' bound, and cast into chains of utter helplessness, not
even feeling free to express the feeblest sentiment against the
high rising tide of military activity. We were lost on a
tempestuous sea; the dove of peace had been beaten, broken winged
to shore, and the olive branch lost in its general fury."

Describing conditions in Paris on August 12, he says:

"We are in a state of tense expectation, so acute that it dulls the
senses; Paris is relapsing into the condition of an audience
assisting at a thrilling drama with intolerably long entr'acts,
during which it tries to think of its own personal affairs.

"We know that pages of history are being rapidly engraved in steel,
written in blood, illuminated in the margin with glory on a
background of heroism and suffering, not more than a few score
miles away.

"The shrieking camelots (peddlers) gallop through the streets
waving their news sheets, but it is almost always news of
twenty-four hours ago. The iron hand of the censor reduces the
press to a monotonous repetition of the same formula. Only
headlines give scope for originality. Of local news there is none.
There is nothing doing in Paris but steady preparation for meeting
contingencies by organizing ambulances and relief for the poor."

From the thousands of tales brought back by American tourists caught in
Germany at the outbreak of the war, there is more than enough evidence
that they were not treated with that courtesy manifested towards them by
the French. They were arrested as spies, subjected to all sorts of
embarrassments and indignities; their persons searched, their baggage
and letters examined, and frequently were detained for long periods
without any explanation being offered. When finally taken to the
frontier, they were not merely put across--frequently they were in a
sense thrown across.

Nor were the subjects of other nations, particularly those with which
Germany was at war, treated with that fine restraint which characterized
the French. Here is an account by a traveller of the treatment of
Russian subjects:

"We left Berlin on the day Germany declared war against Russia. Within
seventy-five miles of the frontier, 1,000 Russians in the train by
which they were travelling were turned out of the carriage and
compelled to spend eighteen hours without