young, and their despair at the loss of it; but it was not alone their ruined, blasted youth that pressed on these poor soldiers,—­though that was terrible enough—­the worst was not to know the reason for this sacrifice, and the poisonous suspicion that it was all in vain.  The pain of these victims could not be soothed by the gross appeal of a foolish racial supremacy, nor by a fragment of ground fought for between States.  They knew now how much earth a man needs to die on, and that the blood of all races is part of the same stream of life.

Clerambault felt that he was a sort of elder brother to these young men; the sense of this and his duty towards them gave him a strength that he would not otherwise have had, and he charged their messenger with words of hope and consolation.

“Your sufferings are not thrown away,” he said.  “It is true that they are the fruit of a cruel error, but the errors themselves are not all lost.  The scourge of today is the explosion of evils which have ravaged Europe for ages; pride and cupidity.  It is made up of conscienceless States, the disease of capitalism, and is become the monstrous machine called Civilisation, full of intolerance, hypocrisy, and violence.  Everything is breaking up; all must be done over again; it is a tremendous task, but do not speak of discouragement, for yours is the greatest work that has ever been offered to a generation.  The fire of the trenches and the asphyxiating gases that blind you come as much from agitators in the rear as from the enemy; you must strive to see clearly, to see where the real fight lies.  It is not against a people but against an unhealthy society founded on exploitation and rivalry between nations, on the subordination of the free conscience to the Machine-State.  The peoples, resigned or sceptical, would not have seen this with the tragical clearness in which it now appears, without the painful disturbance of the war.  I do not bless this pain; leave that to the bigots of our old religions!  We do not love sorrow and we all want happiness, but if sorrow must come, at least let it be of some use!  Do not let your sufferings add to those of others.  You must not give way.  You are taught in the army that when the order to advance is once given in a battle it is more dangerous to fall back than to go on; so do not look back; leave your ruins behind you, and march on towards the new world.”

As he spoke the eyes of his young auditor seemed to say:  “Tell me more, more yet, more even than hopes, give me certainties, tell of the victory which will come soon.”