nor the sacrifices made to retain their nationality. And it is well the
true state of feeling throughout the annexed territory should be known
outside its limits. With a considerable knowledge of French life and
character, I confess I went to Mulhouse little prepared to find there a
ferment of feeling which years have not sufficed to calm down.

[Illustration: ETTENHEIM]

"Nous ne sommes pas heureux a Mulhouse" were almost the first words
addressed to me by that veteran patriot and true philanthropist, Jean
Dollfus.

And how could it be otherwise? M. Dollfus, as well as other
representatives of the French subjects of Prussia in the Reichstag, had
protested against the annexation of Alsace in vain. They pointed out the
heavy cost to the German empire of these provinces, in consequence of the
vast military force required to maintain them, the undying bitterness
aroused, the moral, intellectual, and material interests at stake. I use
the word intellectual advisedly, for, amongst other instances in point, I
was assured that the book trade in Mulhouse had greatly declined since
the annexation. The student class has diminished, many reading people
have gone, and those who remain feel too uncertain about the future to
accumulate libraries. Moreover, the ordeal that all have gone through has
depressed intellectual as well as social life. Mulhouse has been too much
saddened to recover herself as yet, although eminently a literary place,
and a sociable one in the old happy French days. The balls, soirees and
reunions, that formerly made Mulhouse one of the friendliest as well as
the busiest towns in the world, have almost ceased. People take their
pleasures very soberly.