on
cried out, "Then I decide for myself! The responsibility is mine. I
alone will bear it." And out of the hospital she swept with the dignity
and beauty of the Lady of Sorrows.

A year later, in Paris, the French judge and court cleared the young
girl who choked to death with a string the babe of the German officer
who had attacked her. But since that time, all France and Belgium and
the lands where there are refugees are discussing the question--Where
does the right lie? Has the French mother, cruelly wounded, no right?
And this foul thing forced upon her a superior right? Which path for the
bewildered girl leads to peace? Where does the Lord of Right stand? What
chance has a babe born of a beast, abhorred and despised, when it comes
into the world? The women of the world alone can answer this question.

IN FRANCE THE IMMORTAL!

IV

1. The Glory of the French Soldier's Heroism

As much as the German atrocities have done to destroy our confidence in
the divine origin of the human soul, the French soldiers have done to
vindicate the majesty and beauty of a soul made in the image of God.

I have seen French boys that were so simple, brave and modest in their
courage, so beautiful in their spirit, as to make one feel that they
were young gods and not men. One day, into one of the camps, came a
lawyer from Paris. He brought the news of the revival of the Latin
Quarter. For nearly three years a shop near the Beaux Arts had been
closed. During all this time the French soldier had been at the front.
When the first call came on that August day he put up the wooden
shutters, turned the key in the lock, and marched away to the trenches.

Said the lawyer: "I come from your cousin. The Americans are here in
Paris. Your cousin says that if you will give me the keys and authorize
her to open the shop she will take your place. She can recover your
business, and perhaps have a little store of money for you when you have
your 'permission' or come home to rest. She tells me that she is your
sole relative." The soldier shook his head, saying: "I never expect to
come home. I do not want to come home. France can be freed only by men
who are ready to die for her. I do not know where the key is. I do not
know what goods are in the shop. For three years I have had no thought
of it. I am too busy to make money. There are other things for
me--fighting, and perhaps dying. Tell my cousin that she can have the
shop." Then the soldi