s scientific mind dared not revolt against
the stupidity of this bloody game, where death for France as well as
for Germany--perhaps more than for Germany, was the stake.

Yes, he did revolt, but would not admit it to himself. He tried again
to influence Clerambault: "Your ideas perhaps are right and true, but
this is not the time ... not now. In twenty, or even fifty years. We
must first conquer, finish our task, found the freedom of the world,
the brotherhood of men, on the enduring victory of France."

Poor Daniel! Can he not see that, even at the best, the victory is
doomed to be tarnished by excesses, and that then it will be the turn
of the vanquished to set their minds on a frantic revenge and a just
victory? Each nation desires the end of wars through its own triumph,
and from one such victory to another humanity will go down to its
defeat.

As Daniel stood up to go he pressed Clerambault's hands and reminded
him with much feeling of his poem where, in the heroic words of
Beethoven, he exalted the suffering out of which joy is born...."
_Durch Leiden Freude_." He sighed.

"Ah! how well they understand.... We sing of suffering and our
deliverance, but they are enamoured of it. And now our hymn of
deliverance will become a song of oppression for other men...."

Clerambault could not answer, he had a real love for this young man,
one of those who sacrificed themselves for the war, knowing well
that they had nothing to gain; and the greater their sacrifices,
the stronger their faith. Blessings on them! But if only they would
consent not to immolate all mankind on the same altar....

Rosine came in just as Clerambault and Daniel reached the door of the
apartment; she started with pleasure at the sight of the visitor, and
Daniel's face lighted up also. Clerambault could not help noticing the
sudden gaiety of the two young people. Rosine urged Daniel to come in
again for a few moments and talk to her a little; Daniel hesitated,
did come back, but refused to sit down, and in a constrained way made
a vague excuse for going away. Clerambault, who guessed what was
passing in his daughter's heart, begged him to promise that he would
come at least once more before the end of his leave. Daniel, much
embarrassed, said no, at first, then yes, without fixing a time, and
at last, on being urged by Clerambault, he did say when they might
expect him, and took leave, but his manner was still rather cool.
Rosine stood th