n
humanity that thrift and refinement mean enervation. We should have
believed in the alarmists who talk of oriental hordes and of the vigor
of primitive manhood overcoming art and education.

The Germans could not give up their idea that both the French and the
English must be dying races. The German staff had been well enough
informed to realize that they must first destroy the French Army as the
continental army most worthy of their steel and, at the same time, they
could not convince themselves that France was other than weak. She loved
her flesh-pots too well; her families would yield and pay rather than
sacrifice only sons.

At any time since October, 1914, the French could have had a separate
peace; but the answer of the Frenchman, aside from his bounden faith to
the other Allies, was that he would have no peace that was given--only a
peace that was yielded. France would win by the strength of her manhood
or she would die. When the war was over a Frenchman could look a German
in the face and say, "I have won this peace by the force of my blows;"
or else the war would go on to extermination.

At intervals in the long, long months of sacrifice France was very
depressed; for the French are more inclined than the English to be up
and down in their emotions. They have their bad and their good days.
Yet, when they were bluest over reports of the retreat from the Marne or
losses at Verdun they had no thought of making terms. Depression merely
meant that they would all have to succumb without winning. Thus, after
the weary stalling and resistance of the blows at Verdun, never making
any real progress in driving the enemy out of France, ever dreaming of
the day when they should see the Germans' backs, France had waited for
the movement that came on the Somme.

The people were always talking of this offensive. They had heard that it
was under way. Yet, how were they to know the truth? The newspapers gave
vague hints; gossip carried others, more concrete, sometimes correct but
usually incorrect; and all that the women and the old men and the
children at home could do was to keep on with the work. And this they
did; it is instinct. Then one morning news was flashed over France that
the British and the French had taken over twenty thousand prisoners. The
tables were turned at last! France was on the march!

"Do you see why we love France?" said my friend T----, who was with me
that day, as with a turn of the road we had