With an unconscious and feverish bad faith kept up by his affection,
he sought in everything that he saw, heard, or read, for arguments
to prop up his will to believe in the holiness of the cause, for
everything which went to prove that the enemy alone had wanted war,
was the sole enemy of peace, and that to make war on the enemy was
really to wish for peace.

There was proof enough and to spare; there always is; all that is
needed is to know when to open and shut your eyes ...But nevertheless
Clerambault was not entirely satisfied. These half-truths, or truths
with false tails to them, produced a secret uneasiness in the
conscience of this honest man, showing itself in a passionate
irritation against the enemy, which grew more and more. On the same
lines--like two buckets in a well, one going up as the other goes
down--his patriotic enthusiasm grew and drowned the last torments of
his mind in a salutary intoxication.

From now on he was on the watch for the smallest newspaper items
in support of his theory; and though he knew what to think of the
veracity of these sheets, he did not doubt them for an instant when
their assertions fed his eager restless passion. Where the enemy was
concerned he adopted the principle, that the worst is sure to be
true--and he was almost grateful to Germany when, by acts of cruelty
and repeated violations of justice, she furnished him the solid
confirmation of the sentence which, for greater security, he had
pronounced in advance.

Germany gave him full measure. Never did a country at war seem more
anxious to raise the universal conscience against her. This apoplectic
nation bursting with strength, threw itself upon its adversary in a