weekly. The man was a disciple of Ernest Psichari, the soldier mystic
who died so superbly at Charleroi in the dreadful days before the Marne.
From him I learned something of the French conception of the idea of
war. It was not uninteresting to compare the French point of view with
the German, and we talked late into the night while the ship was
plunging through the storm. An article in the review, "La Psychologie
des Barbares," was the starting-point of our conversation.

"You must remember that the word 'barbarian' which we apply to the
Germans, is understood by the French intellectually," said he. "Not only
do German atrocities seem barbarous, but their thought also. Consider
the respective national conceptions of the idea of war. To the Germans,
war is an end in itself, and in itself and in all its effects perfect
and good. To the French mind, this conception of war is barbaric, for
war is not good in itself and may be fatal to both victor and
vanquished." (He spoke a beautiful, lucid French with a sort of military
preciseness.)

"It was Ernest Psichari who revealed to us the raison d'être of arms in
modern life, and taught us the meaning of war. To him, war was no savage
ruée, but the discipline of history for which every nation must be
prepared, a terrible discipline neither to be sought, nor rejected when
proffered. Thus the Boches, once their illusion of the glory of war is
smashed, have nothing to fall back on, but the French point of view is
stable and makes for a good morale. Psichari was the intellectual leader
of that movement for the regeneration of the army which has saved
France. When the doctrines of pacificism began to be preached in France,
and cries of 'A bas l'armée' were heard in the streets, Psichari showed
that the army was the only institution left in our industrialized world
with the old ideals and the power to teach them. Quand on a tout dit,