standing for to-day as opposed to the nationalism of
Germany. The Frenchman believes, like the American, that pressure
should be from within out, not from without in. In other words, his
own conscience, and not the arbitrary ruling of an arbitrary
government, is his dictator. To reconcile liberty and democracy, then,
has been France's problem, as it has been that of America. She has
faced the same problems against a handicap that America has not
had--the handicap of a discontented nobility. And by sheer force and
determination France has won.

It has been said that the French in their Revolution were not reckless
innovators. They were confiding followers. And the star they followed
was the same star which, multiplied by the number of states, is the
American flag to-day--Liberty.

Because of the many ties between the two countries, I had urged on the
French Ambassador the necessity of letting America know a little more
intimately what was being done by the French in this war. Since that
time a certain relaxation has taken place along all the Allied lines.
Correspondents have been taken out on day excursions and have cabled
to America what they saw. But at the time I visited the French Army of
the North there had been no one there.

Those Americans who had seen the French soldier in times of peace had
not been greatly impressed. His curious, bent-kneed, slouching step,
so carefully taught him--so different from the stately progress of the
British, for instance, but so effective in covering ground--his loose
trousers and huge pack, all conspire against the _ensemble_ effect of
French soldiers on the march.

I have seen British regiments at ease, British soldiers at rest and in
their billets. Always they are smart, always they are military. A
French regiment at ease ceases to be a part of a great machine. It
shows, perhaps, more humanity. The men let their muscles sag a bit.
They talk, laugh, sing if they are happy. They lie about in every
attitude of complete relaxation. But at the word they fall in again.
They take up the slack, as it were, and move on again in that
remarkable _pas de flexion_ that is so oddly tireless. It is a
difference of method; probably the best thing for men who are Gallic,
temperamental. A more lethargic army is better governed probably by
rule of thumb.

I had crossed the Channel again to see the French and English lines.
On my previous visit, which had lasted for several weeks, I had seen