her mighty trucks, straight into Belgium to get at France.

The whole world felt the shock of such an act of national dishonor. And the act was made worse by the speech of the Chancellor of Germany, which showed the world that Germany did not even care for honor. The Chancellor said to the British Ambassador that it was dreadful for England to declare war because Germany had violated Belgium's neutrality. He said, "Just for a word, 'neutrality,' - just

for a scrap of paper!"

Nothing that Germany did afterwards gave the world a clearer idea of how she felt about honor. She called her treaty, the solemn promise of one nation to another, a scrap of paper.

D

XXIX

ISHONOR, like darkness, looks blacker against the light. Belgium's honor shone as pure and white as Germany's dishonor was black and ugly. The little country rose as one man, and fought. Every man and boy who could carry a gun rushed to the call of King Albert, and the small army, only partly trained, partly armed, badly fed, threw itself in the way of the endless stream of the tremendous German army.

Every child must read the story of Belgium's defense, for it is one of the great stories of all history.

The German army, great as it was, was held back by the magnificent defense of the little Belgian army. The leaders who started to march into Paris like a holiday procession, found themselves fighting in Belgium, while England and France had time to send soldiers to defend Paris.

This enraged the German leaders, and all at once here in America we began to hear stories so awful that we could not believe them.

We heard that the Germans had burned up whole towns in Belgium, that they had taken hundreds of village people, not soldiers, had driven them into village squares and cemeteries, and had shot them dead in masses. We heard that they were killing mothers and little babies, and old men, who could not harm any one. We heard that they were stealing what they did not burn, and, worst of all, that they were torturing people. To torture—that is, to hurt in dreadful ways on purpose is something only the savages are expected to do.

We said in America, "These are stories told by frightened people, who exaggerate everything. They cannot be true."

But soon came letters from our own people who happened to be in Belgium when the Germans came, men and women of the highest character, our own Government's representatives. They said it was true. Soon came Belgian men and women to this country who had escaped, men and women of unstained reputation. They said it was true. By and by the French and Belgian Governments held courts of inquiry, and after all the witnesses had been examined, the judges said it was true.

America did not wholly believe it even then. But in the years that followed, Germany went on doing dreadful things, violating all the principles of International Law, all the laws of international conscience, until at last the world had to believe. It was true.

First Germany violated Belgium's neutrality and called her solemn treaty a scrap of paper. Then Germany violated the laws of humanity by killing non-combatants, by destroying cities and towns, by torture and by theft. And soon other terrible violations were added to these.

The French and English armies that were hurried to France, with almost no preparation and with no time to make plans, gave the Germans the same surprise that Belgium did.

Germany had millions of soldiers trained to obey like clockwork; she had ammunition, supplies, everything. And her plan was perfectly ready. But France and England had the soul which cannot be conquered; the soul of Freedom and Honor. Every soldier felt the burning anger of a man whose home is attacked. A righteous cause makes a mighty army, as we Americans know. And the army of France met the army of Germany like a rock standing against the beating surf.

We shall read much of the Battle of the Marne, when we are older. And when we read it we shall find our hearts beating and our eyes wet, thanking God for the spirit in the hearts of men that makes them so heroic.

There at the river Marne, which lay between the German enemy and their Paris, the Frenchmen said, "No further." The German army, sweeping on, was suddenly stopped by a living wall of invincible defenders.

Dying by tens of thousands, borne down by awful numbers, fighting in a living volcano of fire and noise and suffering, the French and British soldiers pushed the German army back, back, away from the Marne and back to the Aisne. The battle of the Marne saved Paris, and France.