going south, I am going to France, our journey will seem
quicker in company, let us step forth."

He was a Christian Brother. He had been to Australia, where many of his
Order were established. I explained I knew of their work in education;
in fact, I happened to know many of the fraternity by name. I ran over a
gamut of names of those I knew in past years. There were Brothers Paul,
Wilbrid, Aloysius and Mark.

"I may know some of those you mention," he said, "but I do not think it
possible. We seldom know each other by name unless we are beneath the
same roof. There are hundreds called by the names you mentioned, I
myself am a 'Brother Wilbrid.'"

It is a wonderful fact that there is nothing that knits strangers
together, as the hitting on the name of a mutual friend, so we became
close companions.

He had been born in Lorraine, but had lived most of his time in Berlin.
His close-cropped grey hair showed he was well on in years. He had been
an artisan before he joined his Order, and he lightened our long tramp
to Coblenz with his idea of the trend of things.

The road was good and the air was clean and sweet. We passed by some
farms where women were behind the plough.

Summer was breaking, and the Autumn sunshine was drying the last
dewdrops from the grass.

"Note," Brother Wilbrid said, "how all Nature welcomes the sunshine,
hear the birds twitter, see the cattle slowly moving on that rise. All
Nature here joins in a hymn of peace, yet far beyond those western
ridges three million men lay trenched through the winter and stared in
hellish hate at each other across a narrow strip.

"All Nature welcomed the Spring with a paean of praise, but by fighting
men it was welcomed as the opportunity to rise from winter holes and
rush across the Spring sun-warmed earth to warm it anew with flowing
blood. But it is not the waste of blood that so appals, it's the waste
of effort and the waste of heroism. The labor of three million men
could, in the wasted months of war build much to ensure unending human
happiness. Thirty-two thousand men cut a channel through Panama and
shortened the world's journey to your home by a third! Think what the
labor of three million men could do!

"And then there is the waste of heroism.

"Men with large hearts will risk their lives to drag a comrade out of
danger. It is heroism--yes--but it is wasted on a cause of
foolishness----"

"But," I interrupted, "there is other heroism than that