itional light-heartedness of the Parisian has been translated to a
fine simplicity of courage and devotion to the common cause and to a
high seriousness of patriotism. There is something splendidly impressive
and stimulating in the spectacle of civilization's most sensitive
culture suddenly confronted by the stern realities of a life-and-death
struggle, and responding unanimously to the call of duty. Without
hesitation or complaint, Paris has put away childish things, her toys,
her luxury, and her laughter; today her whole life reflects only fixed
purposes of united effort, of courage never, never to submit or yield,
and this splendid determination is all the more significant for being
undemonstrative and almost silent.

We English people, who, observing chiefly the surface life of the French
capital, have generally been disposed to regard the Parisian temperament
as mutable and often impatient of adversity, must now make our
confession of error and the amende honorable; for nothing could be more
admirable than the attitude of all classes of the community in their
stoic acceptance of the sacrifices and sufferings imposed upon them by
this war at their gates. Especially striking is the philosophic
acquiescence of the city, accustomed to know and to discuss all things,
in the impenetrable [Transcriber: original 'impentrable'] veil of
secrecy which conceals the movements and the fortunes of the French
armies in the field. Go where you will, even among those of the very
poor who have lost their breadwinners, and you will hear few criticisms
and no complaints. The little midinette thrown out of employment, the
shopkeeper faced with ruin, the artist reduced to actual want--they also
are in the fighting line, and they are proud of it. The women of the
thrifty middle class consider it just as much their duty to devote their
savings of years to the common cause as their husbands and brothers do
to bear arms against the enemy; only in the last extremity of need do
they make appeal to the "Secours National" for assistance. And when they
do, they are well content to live on a maintenance allowance of 1s. a
day and 5d. for every child.

The other Sunday morning at the hour of mass, when two German aeroplanes
were engaged in their genial occupation of throwing bombs over the
residential and business quarters of the city, I assisted at several
sidewalk conversations in the district lying between the Madeleine and
the Rue de Rivoli. N