peaks of the continents, transmitting alternate hopes and fears.

Russia was mobilizing a part of its army. Germany, with its troops in
readiness under the pretext of manoeuvres, was decreeing the state of
"threatened war." The Austrians, regardless of the efforts of diplomacy,
were beginning the bombardment of Belgrade. William II, fearing that the
intervention of the Powers might settle the differences between the
Czar and the Emperor of Austria, was forcing the course of events by
declaring war upon Russia. Then Germany began isolating herself, cutting
off railroad and telegraphic communications in order to shroud in
mystery her invading forces.

France was watching this avalanche of events, temperate in its words and
enthusiasm. A cool and grave resolution was noticeable everywhere. Two
generations had come into the world, informed as soon as they reached
a reasonable age, that some day there would undoubtedly be war. Nobody
wanted it; the adversary imposed it. . . . But all were accepting it
with the firm intention of fulfilling their duty.

During the daytime Paris was very quiet, concentrating the mind on
the work in hand. Only a few groups of exalted patriots, following the
tricolored flag, were passing through the place de la Concorde, in order
to salute the statue of Strasbourg. The people were accosting each other
in a friendly way in the streets. Everybody seemed to know everybody
else, although they might not have met before. Eye attracted eye,
and smiles appeared to broaden mutually with the sympathy of a common
interest. The women were sad but speaking cheerily in order to hide
their emotions. In the long summer twilight, the boulevards were filling
with crowds. Those from the outlying districts were converging toward
the centre of the city, as in the remote revolutionary days, banding