Part 27

More to the east the Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Armies, namely, twelve army corps, four reserve corps, and numerous Ersatz formations, were in contact with our troops, the Fourth and Fifth Armies between Vouziers and Verdun and the others in the positions which have been indicated above, from Verdun to the Vosges.

It will, therefore, be seen that our left, if we accepted battle, might be in great peril through the British forces and the new French Army, operating more to the westward, having given way.

A defeat in these conditions would have cut off our armies from Paris and from the British forces and at the same time from the new army which had been constituted to the left of the English. We should thus be running the risk of losing by a single stroke the advantage of the assistance which Russia later on was to furnish.

General Joffre chose resolutely for the solution which disposed of these risks, that is to say, for postponing the offensive and the continuance of the retreat. In this way he remained on ground which he had chosen. He waited only until he could engage in better conditions.

In consequence, on Sept. 1, he fixed as an extreme limit for the movement of retreat, which was still going on, the line of Bray-sur-Seine, Nogent-sur-Seine, Arcis-sur-Aube, Vitry-le-François, and the region to the north of Bar-le-Duc. This line might be reached if the troops were compelled to go back so far. They would attack before reaching it, as soon as there was a possibility of bringing about an offensive disposition, permitting the co-operation of the whole of our forces.

THE EVE OF THE OFFENSIVE.

On Sept. 5 it appeared that this desired situation existed.

The First Germany Army, carrying audacity to temerity, had continued its endeavor to envelop our left, had crossed the Grand Morin, and reached the region of Chauffry, to the south of Rebaix and of Esternay. It aimed then at cutting our armies off from Paris, in order to begin the investment of the capital.

The Second Army had its head on the line Champaubert, Etoges, Bergeres, and Vertus.

The Third and Fourth Armies reached to Chalons-sur-Marne and Bussy-le-Repos. The Fifth Army was advancing on one side and the other from the Argonne as far as Triacourt-les-Islettes and Juivecourt. The Sixth and Seventh Armies were attacking more to the east.

But--and here is a capital difference between the situation of Sept. 5 and that of Sept. 2--the envelopment of our left was no longer possible.

In the first place, our left army had been able to occupy the line of Sézanne, Villers-St. Georges and Courchamps. Furthermore, the British forces, gathered between the Seine and the Marne, flanked on their left by the newly created army, were closely connected with the rest of our forces.

This was precisely the disposition which the General in Chief had wished to see achieved. On the 4th he decided to take advantage of it, and ordered all the armies to hold themselves ready. He had taken from his right two new army corps, two divisions of infantry, and two divisions of cavalry, which were distributed between his left and his centre.

On the evening of the 5th he addressed to all the commanders of armies a message ordering them to attack.

"The hour has come," he wrote, "to advance at all costs, and to die where you stand rather than give way."

_(To be continued in the next issue.)_

BY THE NORTH SEA.

By W.L. COURTNEY.

[From King Albert's Book.]

Death and Sorrow and Sleep: Here where the slow waves creep, This is the chant I hear, The chant of the measureless deep.

What was sorrow to me Then, when the young life free Thirsted for joys of earth Far from the desolate sea?

What was Sleep but a rest, Giving to youth the best Dreams from the ivory gate, Visions of God manifest?

What was Death but a tale Told to faces grown pale, Worn and wasted with years-- A meaningless thing to the bale?

Death and Sorrow and Sleep: Now their sad message I keep, Tossed on the wet wind's breath, The chant of the measureless deep.

When Marthe Chenal Sang the "Marseillaise"

By Wythe Williams

[From THE NEW YORK TIMES, Feb. 14, 1915.]

I went to the Opéra Comique the other day to hear Marthe Chenal sing the "Marseillaise." For several weeks previous I had heard a story going the rounds of what is left of Paris life to the effect that if one wanted a regular old-fashioned thrill he really should go to the Opéra Comique on a day when Mlle. Chenal closed the performance by singing the French national hymn. I was told there would be difficulty in securing a seat.

I was rather skeptical. I also considered that I had had sufficient thrills since the beginning of the war, both old fashioned and new. I believed also that I had already heard the "Marseillaise" sung under the best possible circumstances to produce thrills. One of the first nights after mobilization 10,000 Frenchmen filled the street beneath the windows of THE NEW YORK TIMES office, where I was at work. They sang the "Marseillaise" for two hours, with a solemn hatred of their national enemy sounding in every note. The solemnity changed to a wild passion as the night wore on. Finally, cuirassiers of the guard rode through the street to disperse the mob. It was a terrific scene.

So I was willing to admit that the "Marseillaise" is probably the most thrilling and most martial national song ever written, but I was just not keen on the subject of thrills.

Then one day a sedate friend went to the Opéra Comique and came away in a raving condition. It was a week before his ardor subsided. He declared that this rendition of a song was something that will be referred to in future years. "Why," he said, "when the war is over the French will talk about it in the way Americans still talk concerning Jenny Lind at Castle Garden, or De Wolf Hopper reciting 'Casey at the Bat.'"

This induced me to go. I was convinced that whether I got a thrill or not the singing of the "Marseillaise" by Chenal had become a distinct feature of Paris life during the war.

I never want to go again. To go again might deepen my impression--might better register the thrill. But then it might not be just the same. I would be keyed to such expectancy that I might be disappointed. Persons in the seats behind me might whisper. And just as Chenal got to the "Amour sacré de la patrie" some one might cough. I am confident that something of the sort would surely happen. I want always to remember that ten minutes while Chenal was on the stage just as I remember it now. So I will not go again.

The first part of the performance was Donizetti's "Daughter of the Regiment," beautifully sung by members of the regular company. But somehow the spectacle of a fat soprano nearing forty in the role of the twelve-year-old vivandière, although impressive, was not sublime. A third of the audience were soldiers. In the front row of the top balcony were a number of wounded. Their bandaged heads rested against the rail. Several of them yawned.

After the operetta came a "Ballet of the Nations." The "nations," of course, represented the Allies. We had the delectable vision of the Russian ballerina dancing with arms entwined about several maids of Japan. The Scotch lassies wore violent blue jackets. The Belgian girls carried large pitchers and rather wept and watered their way about the stage. There were no thrills.

After the intermission there was not even available standing space. The majority of the women were in black--the prevailing color in these days. The only touches of brightness and light were in the uniforms of the officers liberally sprinkled through the orchestra and boxes.

Then came "Le Chant du Depart," the famous song of the revolution. The scene was a little country village. The principals were the officer, the soldier, the wife, the mother, the daughter, and the drummer boy. There was a magnificent soldier chorus and the fanfare of drums and trumpets. The audience then became honestly enthusiastic. I concluded that the best Chenal could do with the "Marseillaise," which was next on the programme, would be an anti-climax.

The orchestra played the opening bars of the martial music. With the first notes the vast audience rose. I looked up at the row of wounded leaning heavily against the rail, their eyes fixed and staring on the curtain. I noticed the officers in the boxes, their eyes glistening. I heard a convulsive catch in the throats of persons about me. Then the curtain lifted.

I do not remember what was the stage setting. I do not believe I saw it. All I remember was Chenal standing at the top of a short flight of steps, in the centre near the back drop. I indistinctly remember that the rest of the stage was filled with the soldier chorus and that near the footlights on either side were clusters of little children.

"Up, sons of France, the call of glory"----

Chenal swept down to the footlights. The words of the song swept over the audience like a bugle call. The singer wore a white silk gown draped in perfect Grecian folds. She wore the large black Alsatian head dress, in one corner of which was pinned a small tri-colored cockade. She has often been called the most beautiful woman in Paris. The description was too limited. With the next lines she threw her arms apart, drawing out the folds of the gown into the tricolor of France--heavy folds of red silk draped over one arm and blue over the other. Her head was thrown back. Her tall, slender figure simply vibrated with the feeling of the words that poured forth from her lips. She was noble. She was glorious. She was sublime. With the "March on, March on" of the chorus, her voice arose high and fine over the full orchestra, and even above her voice could be sensed the surging emotions of the audience that seemed to sweep over the house in waves.

I looked up at the row of wounded. One man held his bandaged head between his hands and was crying. An officer in a box, wearing the gorgeous uniform of the headquarters staff, held a handkerchief over his eyes.

Through the second verse the audience alternately cheered and stamped their feet and wept. Then came the wonderful "Amour sacré de la patrie"--sacred love of home and country--verse. The crashing of the orchestra ceased, dying away almost to a whisper. Chenal drew the folds of the tricolor cloak about her. Then she bent her head and, drawing the flag to her lips, kissed it reverently. The first words came like a sob from her soul. From then until the end of the verse, when her voice again rang out over the renewed efforts of the orchestra, one seemed to live through all the glorious history of France. At the very end, when Chenal drew a short jeweled sword from the folds of her gown and stood, silent and superb, with the folds of the flag draped about her, while the curtain rang slowly down, she seemed to typify both Empire and Republic throughout all time. All the best of the past seemed concentrated there as that glorious woman, with head raised high, looked into the future.

And as I came out of the theatre with the silent audience I said to myself that a nation with a song and a patriotism such as I had just witnessed could not vanish from the earth--nor again be vanquished.

A War of Commerce to Follow

By Sir William Ramsay

That commerce in Germany is regarded as war, that the "powerful mass of the German State" is projected into methods meant to kill off the trade of other nations, and that after the war between the nations the German war with British trade will be resumed, is the burden of this address. Sir William Ramsay delivered it in Manchester on Jan. 22, 1915, before representatives of British associations of employers and of leading industrial concerns in many parts of the United Kingdom, making up the Employers' Parliamentary Association. Sir William is one of the world's great chemists.

I suppose that among my audience some are convinced free traders, while some believe that our commercial interests would be better served by a measure of protection. This is neither the time nor the place, nor have I the knowledge and ability for a discussion of this much-debated question. Nor will I reveal my own private views, except in so far as to say that I agree with the majority. But, as the question cannot be ignored, I should like to say that I hold firmly the conviction that all trade should be carried on for the mutual advantage of the parties engaged. The old fable of Æsop may be quoted, which relates to a quarrel between the different members of the body. Every one of us can be, and should be, helpful to every other, independent of nation, country, and creed. That is, I am sure, what lies on the conscience of each one of us, as an ultimate end to be struggled for, although perhaps by many considered unattainable.

For the same kind of reason, it appears to me that we all think that peace is a blessing, and war a curse. For under peace commerce and industry prosper; science and the arts flourish; friendships are made and adorn the amenities of life. Moreover, our religious traditions in all Christian countries, and in some non-Christian ones like China, influence us to believe that war is wrong, indefensible, and, in the present year of our Lord, an anachronism.

We imagined, perhaps not most, but many of us, that no important European nation thought differently. Your leading Liberal paper, The Manchester Guardian, on July 22, 1908, wrote, "Germany, though the most military of nations, is probably the least warlike"; and this doubtless represented the views of the majority of Englishmen. Some of us knew better. I have, or had, many German friends; we have lived for many years on a footing of mutual kindliness; but it was impossible to disregard the signs of the times. The reason of this war is at bottom, as we have now discovered, the existence of a wholly different ideal in the Germanic mind from that which lies at the base of the Latin, Anglo-Saxon, Dutch, or Scandinavian nations. Such a statement as this is sweeping; it can be illustrated by a trivial tale. In 1912 an international scientific congress met at Berlin; I was a member. Although the conventional language was German, in compliment to our hosts, it turned out that in the long run all discussions were conducted in French. After such a sitting, the members separated, the German committee remaining behind for business purposes. The question of language was raised, I think by a Dutchman, in the corridor. Of the representatives of the fourteen or fifteen nations present, all were agreed on this--that they were not going to be compelled to publish in German; some chose English; some French; Spanish was suggested as a simple and easily understood language; but there was no love lost between the "foreign" and the German representatives, and this not the least on personal, but purely on national grounds. Acknowledging to the full the existence of high-minded German gentlemen, it is a sad fact that the character of the individuals of the nation is not acceptable to individuals of other nations. Listen to a quotation from a letter I have received from a very distinguished Swiss: "Une chose me frappait aussi, dans les tendances allemandes, une incroyable inconscience. Accaparer le bien d'autrui leur paraissait si naturel qu'ils ne comprenaient même pas que l'on eût quelque desir de se défendre. Le monde entier était fait pour constituer le champ d'exploitation de l'Allemagne, et celui qui s'opposait á l'accomplissement de cette destinée était, pour tout allemand, l'objet d'une surprise." [Translation: "One thing has also struck me in German tendencies; that is an unbelievable want of conscience. To grab the belongings of others appeared to them so natural, that they did not understand that one had some wish to defend himself. The whole world was made for the field of German operations, and whoever placed himself in opposition to the accomplishment of this destiny was for every German the object of surprise."] The view is not new; the feeling of surprise at opposition was expressed wittily by a French poet in the words:

Cet animal est trés mechant; Lorsqu'on l'attaque, il se defend.

This animal is full of spite; If you attack him, he will bite.

Well, gentlemen, this war has opened the eyes of some of us, and has confirmed the fears of others. Not one of us wanted to fight. Our hand was forced, so that we could not have abstained without national and personal dishonor.

Now, I do not think it is even yet realized that Germany's methods in trade have been, and are, as far as possible identical, with her methods in war. Let me rub this in. As long ago as 1903, at a meeting of the Society of Chemical Industry, under the Presidency of your fellow-citizen, Mr. Levinstein, I pointed out that under the German State there was a trade council, the object of which was to secure and keep trade for Germany. This council had practical control of duties, bounties, and freights; its members were representative of the different commercial interests of the empire; and they acted, as a rule, without control from the Reichstag. You can read what I said for yourselves, if you think it worth while, in The Journal of the Society of Chemical Industry for 1903.

Let me give you a simple case of the operations of that trade council. _Ex uno disce omnes._ A certain firm had a fairly profitable monopoly in a chemical product which it had maintained for many years. It was not a patented article, but one for which the firm had discovered a good process of manufacture. About six years ago this firm found that its Liverpool custom was being transferred to German makers. On inquiry, it transpired that the freight on this particular article from Hamburg to Liverpool had been lowered. The firm considered its position, and by introducing economies it found that it could still compete at a profit. A year later German manufacturers lowered the price substantially, so that the English firm could not sell without making a dead loss. It transpired that the lowering of price was due to a heavy export bounty being paid to the German manufacturers by the German State.

It is the bringing of the heavy machinery of State to bear on the minutiæ of commerce which makes it impossible to compete with such methods. One article after another is attacked, as opportunity offers; British manufacture is killed; and Germany acquires a monopoly. No trade is safe; its turn may not have come.

Much has been said about British manufacture of dyestuffs, and much nonsense has been written about the lack of young British chemists to help in their manufacture. There is no lack of able inventive young British chemists. Owing to the unfairness of German competition by methods just exemplified, a manufacturer, as a rule, does not care to risk capital in the payment of a number of chemists for making "fine chemicals." He finds "heavy chemicals" simpler. I do not wonder at his decision, though I lament it. There are also other reasons. The duty on methyl alcohol (for which no rebate is given) makes it impossible to introduce economically methyl groups into dyes; the restrictions incident on the use of duty-free alcohol do not commend themselves to manufacturers; these constitute other obstacles in the way of the British color maker. Lastly, our patent regulations are even yet not what they might be, although an attempt has recently been made to improve them. The British manufacturer is thus trebly handicapped.

Besides, the English competitor is at a disadvantage owing to what may be termed systematic and fraudulent attacks, for which no redress has been obtainable. Thus the manufacturers of Sheffield still complain, I suppose justly, that German articles for foreign consumption bear the words "Sheffield steel" stamped upon them. I myself have been approached by a German swindler with the proposition that I should assist his firm in infringing patents; he was surprised and pained to learn that I did not consider his proposal an honorable one.

Nor are methods like these confined to business or manufacture; they have greatly affected British shipping. Our shipping companies, in good faith, have associated themselves with others in "conferences," apparently for the mutual advantage of all, forgetting that behind the German companies lay the powerful mass of the German State. Tramp steamers, and with them cheap freights to the East, have been eliminated. The Royal Commission on Shipping Rings, which met some years ago, referring to the system obtaining in Germany, and fostered by the German Government, on charging through rates on goods from towns in the interior to the port of destination, observed in its report: "Such rates constitute a direct subsidy to the export trade of German manufacturers, and an indirect subsidy to those German lines by whom alone they are available. And as they are only rendered possible by the action of the German Government, it appears to us that the British lines can in no way be held responsible for the preferences which these rates afford to German goods." Now, our Government pays large mail subsidies to many of our shipping companies. Could these not be so utilized that it would become impossible for Germans to capture our trade by indirect state bounties?

These are a few examples (and your greater knowledge will enable you to supplement them with many others) of the methods which have been employed against us by Germans with the co-operation--nay, the active support--of their State.

Of late a new factor has appeared. The German Imperial Chancellor made his noteworthy (or notorious) remark about a "scrap of paper." And Dr. von Bethmann-Hollweg, speaking in the Reichstag, acknowledged openly that the German Nation had been guilty of a "wrong" to Belgium. This breach of faith has the approval of the whole German people. Do they realize what it means? Are they not aware that no treaty, political or otherwise, with the German people is worth the paper it is written on? That the country and its inhabitants have forfeited all claims to trust? That no one, in future, should make a bargain with a German, knowing that he is a dishonorable and dishonored man?... Germany has made many blunders--an almost inconceivable number of blunders; but this blundering crime is surely the culminating point of blunder. Did any nation ever before deliberately throw away its political, commercial, financial, and social credit to no purpose? To gain what? England as an adversary, and the contempt of the whole civilized world. Her treatment of the poor Belgian civilians has added to contempt, loathing and scorn.

Now, gentlemen, you see our problem. At, the end of this war we shall have Germans again as trade rivals; if there is a German State our German rivals will be backed by their State. They will, as they have done before, steal our inventions, use trickery and fraud to oust us from world markets, and we know now that we need not expect any bargain to be binding. I am not a commercial man; science is supposed to be above such trickery. Yet I read a few days ago, not as a single example, but only as the last I happen to remember, an article by a distinguished American professor, protesting with great moderation that an important scientific generalization which he published in 1902 had been annexed, without acknowledgment, by a versatile and adroit professor in the University of Berlin--an acquaintance of my own--in the year 1906; and it was not until 1910 that the latter was made to confess his guilt, with much subterfuge and blustering.

Commerce, indeed, is in Germany regarded as war; we now know it, and we must meet war by war. How is that war to be waged?