The military men of France knew that Germany had for years been preparing for aggression on a large scale.  They knew that she would strike when she felt that she was readiest and her opponents of the Triple Entente were least ready.

The state of mind of the civilians—­busy, prosperous, peace-loving, concerned with conversational warfare about a multitude of petty internal affairs—­is difficult to describe.  But I think it may not be impertinent to say of it that it was something like the state of mind of a congregation, well fed, comfortable, conscious of many pleasant virtues and few corroding sins, before whom a preacher holds up the last judgment.  None of them hopes to escape it, none of them can tell at what moment he may be called to his account, none of them would wish to go in just his present state, and yet none of them does anything when he leaves church to put himself more definitely in readiness for that great decision which is to determine where he shall spend eternity.

In 1911 it seemed for a brief while that the irruption from the east was at hand.  But Germany did not feel quite ready; she “dickered”; and things went on seemingly as before.

France seemed to forget.  But she was not so completely abandoned to hopefulness as was England—­England, who turned her deafest ear to Lord Roberts’ impassioned pleas for preparedness.

France has an institution called the Superior War Council.  It is the supreme organ of military authority and the center of national defense; it consists of eleven members supposed to be the ablest commanding generals in the nation.  The president of this council is the Minister of War; the vice president is known as the generalissimo of the French army.

In 1910 General Joseph Joffre became a member of the Superior War Council, and in 1911 he became generalissimo.

It was because the Council felt the imminence of war with Germany that General Pau—­to whom the vice presidency should have gone by right of his priority and also of his eminent fitness—­patriotically waived the honor, because in two years he would be sixty-five and would have to retire; he felt that the defense of the country needed a younger man who could remain more years in service.  So Joffre was chosen and almost immediately he began to justify the choice.

Joffre and his associates of the council not only foresaw the war, but they quite clearly previsioned its extent and something of its character.  In 1912 Joffre declared “the fighting front will extend from four hundred to five hundred miles.”  He talked little, but he worked prodigiously; and always his insistence was:  “We must be prepared!”

“With whole nations,” he said, “engaged in a mortal combat, disaster is certain for those who in time of peace failed to prepare for war.”  And “To be ready means, to-day, to have mustered in advance all the resources of the country, all the intelligence of its citizens, all their moral energy, for the purpose of attaining this one aim—­victory.  Getting ready is a duty that devolves not only upon the army, but upon all public officials, upon all organizations, upon all societies, upon all families, upon all citizens.”