exercise pressure upon her. They reproach Germany severely for not falling in with this demand. But if Germany requests France to exert a moderating influence on her ally, then that is a perfidious attempt to cause dissension! Moreover, how does this friendly keeping in touch with the French government by the German ambassador, which has been so much misinterpreted on the French side, agree with the later assertion of M. Viviani, that Germany was thoroughly desirous of war and that against France?

The documents published in the French Yellow Book lay stress on the admirable spirit of conciliation and peaceableness which the Russian government is said to have displayed from the beginning of the crisis. In opposition to this, the fact need only be recalled that M. Sazonof remarked in the very first conversation which he had with the French and English ambassadors that Russia would be compelled to mobilize. According to this, the intention existed from the outset of exerting pressure by means of military threats in the negotiations with AustriaHungary. As is well known, Russian mobilization was then resolved upon as early as July 25 and was in progress from that day in the whole Russian Empire, as was established subsequently on unimpeachable evidence.

The reports of the English ambassador in St. Petersburg, who, however, acted in this matter with apparent independence and without directions from his government, prove that he watched the military activity whch was beginning in Russia with increasing anxiety and repeatedly warned the Russian foreign minister against premature mobilization.

The manner in which the official documents published in the Yellow Book try to wind round about this important point is extremely worthy of notice. The proof must be furnished at any cost that it was Germany who made a beginning with military preparations. But the Yellow Book is only able to adduce for such "proofs" the fact that, according to the report of the French consul at Frankfurt, troops had arrived there on July 29, by the roads from Darmstadt, Cassel and Mainz; also that, according to the report of the French ambassador in Munich of the same date, the mills in Illkirch had been requested to reserve their stocks for the army, and that the transportation of flying machines was reported from Strassburg and the recall of Bavarian non-commissioned infantry

officers on leave from Metz. A more meager body of proof can hardly be imagined.

The French ambassador in St. Petersburg then sees himself also compelled, when he reports to his government Russia's mobilization against Germany, in default of other effective proof, to have recourse to his imagination and to assert that the Russian general mobilization had only been a consequence of the Austro-Hungarian general mobilization and the military measures of Germany. It is not easy to say in a few words so many untruths as are contained in this telegram from M. Paléologue of July 31, No. 118 of the Yellow Book. Not even the Russian government has ventured to justify its mobilizaton in this manner. It is universally known that Germany confined herself, up to July 31, to precautionary measures which were unconditionally necessary, in view of the comprehensive military measures of her neighbors. It was only after the mobilization of the whole Russian army, which was officially announced on July 31, that the state of threatening danger of war was proclaimed in Germany, and only on the evening of August I that mobilization was ordered.

The French Yellow Book tries to prove another point which the well-known report of the English ambassador at Vienna, drawn up four weeks after the outbreak of war, had vainly endeavored to do, namely, that Austria-Hungary and Russia were about to come to an understanding in regard to the note to Serbia, when Germany suddenly destroyed all hopes of the preservation of peace by her declaration of war. This assertion has already been refuted by the Wiener Fremdenblatt on September 25 in a conclusive manner. To prevent the repetition of the legend, however, it must be pointed out once more, that Russia, at the moment when Germany had succeeded in setting the Austro-Hungarian and Russian direct conversations going again, regardless of the assurances solemnly given by the Russian minister of war and chief of the general staff to the German military attaché, that the troops on the German frontier would not be mobilized, ordered during the night of July 30-31 general mobilization-consequently against Germany as well-and thereby brought to naught the whole mediatory work of Germany. Consequently all the juggling tricks of the Triple Entente will not succeed in getting rid of the fact that the guilt of having unleashed the European war falls on Russia.

THE SOUL OF PARIS1

In the beginning of the war it seemed as though the soul had gone out of Paris and that it had lost all its life.

In all the streets of Paris there was a shutting up of shops. Every day put a new row of iron curtains between the window panes, until at the end of the twelfth day the city seemed as dismal as London on a Sunday, or as though all the shops were closed for a public funeral. Scraps of paper were pasted on the barred-up fronts.

"Le magasin est fermé à cause de la mobilisation."

“M. Jean Cochin et quatre fils sont au front des armées.” "Toute la personelle de cet établissement est mobilsée." The French government was afraid of the soul of Paris. Memories of the Commune haunted the minds of men who did not understand that the character of the Parisian has altered somewhat since 1870. Ministers of France who had read a little history, were terribly afraid that out of the soul of Paris would come turbulence and mob-passion, crises de nerfs, rioting, political strife, and panics. Paris must be handled firmly, sobered down by every possible means, kept from the knowledge of painful facts, spoon-fed with cheerful communiqués whatever the truth might be, guarded by strong but hidden force, ready at a moment's notice to smash up a procession, to arrest agitators, to quell a rebellion, and to maintain the strictest order.

Quietly, but effectively, General Galièni, the military governor of "the entrenched camp of Paris," as it was called, proceeded to place the city under martial law in order to strangle any rebellious spirit which might be lurking in its hiding place. Orders and regulations were issued in a rapid volley fire which left Paris without any aid of its old life or liberty. The terasses were withdrawn from the cafés. No longer could the philosophic Parisian sip his petit verre and watch the drama of the boulevards from the shady side of a marble-topped table. He must sit indoors like an Englishman, in the darkness of his public-house, as though ashamed of drinking in the open. Absinthe was banned by a thunder-stroke from the Invalides, where

1 From "The Soul of the War," by Philip Gibbs. Copyright, 1915, by McBride, Nast & Co., and reprinted here by permission of the publishers.

the military governor had established his headquarters, and Parisians who had acquired the absinthe habit trembled in every limb at this judgment which would reduce them to physical and moral wrecks, as creatures of the drug habit suddenly robbed of their nerve-controlling tabloids. It was an edict welcomed by all men of self-control who knew that France had been poisoned by this filthy liquid, but they too became a little pale when all the cafés of Paris were closed at eight o'clock.

Other edicts followed, or arrived simultaneously like a broadside fired into the life of the city. Public processions "with whatever patriotic motive" were sternly prohibited. "Purveyors of false news, or of news likely to depress the public spirit" would be dealt with by courts martial and punished with the utmost severity. No musical instruments were to be played after ten o'clock at night, and orchestras were prohibited in all restaurants. Oh, Paris, was even your laughter to be abolished, if you had any heart for laughter while your sons were dying on the fields of battle?

The newspaper censors had put a strangle grip upon the press, not only upon news of war but also upon expressions of opinion. Gustave Hervé signed his name three days a week to blank columns of extraordinary eloquence. Georges Clemenceau had a series of striking headlines which had been robbed of all their text. The intellectuals of Paris might not express an opinion save by permission of the military censors, most of whom, strangely enough, had German names.

The civil police under direction of the military governor were very busy in Paris during the early days of the war. Throughout the twenty-four hours, and especially in the darkness of night, the streets were patrolled by blue-capped men on bicycles, who rode, four by four, as silently as shadows, through every quarter of the city. They had a startling habit of surrounding any lonely man who might be walking in the late hours and interrogating him as to his nationality, age, and business.

They were very quick to follow the trail of a stranger, and there was no sanctuary in Paris in which he might evade them. For several months there was a spy mania in Paris, and the police, acting under military orders, showed considerable activity in "Boche" hunting. It was a form of chase which turned me a little sick when I saw the captured prey, just as I used to

turn sick as a boy when I saw a rat caught in a trap and handed over to the dogs, or any other animal run to earth. All my instincts made me hope for the escape of the poor beast.

But it was not of German spies that the French government was most afraid. The French government was more afraid of the true Parisians. To sober them down in case their spirit might lead to trouble, the streets of Paris were kept in darkness and all places of amusement were closed as soon as war was declared. In case riots should break forth from secret lairs of revolutionary propaganda, squadrons of Gardes Republicains patrolled the city by day and night, and the agents de police were reenforced by fusiliers marins with loaded rifles, who— simple fellows as they are could hardly direct a stranger to the Place de la Concorde or find their own way to the Place de la Bastille.

At all costs Paris was not to learn the truth about the war if there were any unpleasant truths to tell. For Paris there must always be victories and no defeats. They must not even know that in war time there were wounded men; otherwise they might get so depressed or so enraged that (thought the French government) there might be the old cry of "Nous sommes trahis!" with a lopping off of ministers' heads and dreadful orgies, in which the streets of Paris would run red with blood. This reason alone-so utterly unreasonable, as we now know-may explain the farcical situation of the hospitals in Paris during the first two months of the war. Great hotels like the Astoria, Claridge's, and the Majestic had been turned into hospitals magnificently equipped and over-staffed. Nothing that money could buy was left unbought, so that these great palaces might be fully provided with all things necessary for continual streams of wounded men. High society in France gave away its wealth with generous enthusiasm. Whatever faults they might have they tried to wash them clean by charity, fullhearted and overflowing, for the wounded sons of France. Great ladies who had been beauties of the salons, whose gowns had been the envy of their circles, took off their silks and chiffons and put on the simple dress of the infirmière and vol'unteered to do the humblest work, the dirty work of kitchenwenches and scullery-girls and bedroom-girls, so that their hands might help, by any service, the men who had fought for France. French doctors, keen and brilliant men who hold