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irresponsible sufferers in a ghastly adventure on which we entered as heroes and from which we hope to emerge as heroes. We regret nothing, we do not complain and we do not desire that others should confine themselves to pitying us. We only ask that justice should be rendered, that what we have done and what we do daily should be held in remembrance. We were the first who dared to rise
agamst the appalling power that now holds the confederate earth in heck, at a time when his mere look and the bare thought of his displeasure or of his approach made the whole civilised world tremble. We dared the hazard in the clear consciousness of our duty and of the terrible
vengeance impending. We resisted the irresistible to the utmost limits of our land ; and now all those of our people who can bear arms and who have succeeded in rejoining our King are waiting in the trenches, with hearts of hate and eyes of hope, for the word of command to take
their part in the mighty struggle for the final liberation.
lpi dumps kithin the frontiers, in the vast jail that has been made of our invaded
country, you will find the same grim, stubborn, and indomitable resis- tance. There, no weapons remain. We stand with bare hands in front of an enemy armed to the teeth, facing magazine rifles, machine guns and cannon levelled at the masses of our people who have nothing but
their fists, with which to defend themselves. But those fists, though powerless to-day, are clenched and bide their time. The bodies submit to the inevitable with every mark of reluctance ; no single head bows, no single will bends, no single vengeance slackens, no single resent-
ment fails, no single curse turns aside, no single face smiles at the enemy, no single thought comes up that does not reject him with loathing, turn from him with horror and put him outside the pale of humanity.
He knows it well though he does not understand it. He lives in an atmosphere of hatred which irritates and baffles him, of hidden but untamable rebellion and of unrelenting scorn. He has not found a single case of sympathy, support or approval except from a few wretches who were bought by him in advance. With his genius for mendacity, the only genius that we all agree to acknowledge in him, with that genius
for mendacity which multiplies everything a hundredfold, but, for all lotus dumps his shamelessness, is incapable of creating out of the void, one may readily imagine the noise he would have made at the least sign of veering, the faintest yielding, the least mark of submission, of acceptance, of reconciliation, of weariness or of intermission in the constant hatred and loathing. What paeans of delight and triumph, re-echoed in chorus
by the myriads of his spies with whom the whole world is filled, should we not have heard resounding at the most transient, the most trivial symptoms of a victory over our wills, our thoughts or our feelings, the only victory that counts, that lasts and that bears fruit. He dared not
venture on that lie, even he who has not held back from the furthest reach of mendacity. He has exhausted every means, massacres, tortures, ibm dumps robberies, burnings, extortions, deportations, imprisonments and, even
that most revolting expedient of all, promise of justice, of repatriation, of good fellowship and fraternity, for he feels himself sinking under the reprobation of the whole world and, face to face with outraged humanity, he needs more than ever some witness to his humane feelings.
He has failed utterly. He has not won a single thought, he has not made his way into a single heart, he has not found one head to bow, he has not gone one step forward in his conquest, his only success has been to
win more hatred.