visit　to　the　French　front　at　Soissons　and　put　me　in　charge　of
  Lieutenant　de　Tessin；　whom　ii　had　met　in　England　studying　British
  social　questions　long　before　this　war。　　Afterwards　Lieutenant　de
  Tessin　took　me　to　the　great　hotelit　still　proclaims
  〃/Restaurant/〃　in　big　black　letters　on　the　garden　wall
  which　shelters　the　General　Headquarters　of　France；　and　here　I　was
  able　to　see　and　talk　to　Generals　Pelle　and　Castelnau　as
  well　as　to　General　Joffre。　　They　are　three　very　remarkable　and
  very　different　men。　　They　have　at　least　one　thing　in　common；　it
  is　clear　that　not　one　of　them　has　spent　ten　minutes　in　all　his
  life　in　thinking　of　himself　as　a　Personage　or　Great　Man。　　They
  all　have　the　effect　of　being　active　and　able　men　doing　an
  extremely　complicated　and　difficult　but　extremely　interesting　job
  to　the　very　best　of　their　ability。　　With　me　they　had　all　one
  quality　in　common。　　They　thought　I　was　interested　in　what　they
  were　doing；　and　they　were　quite　prepared　to　treat　me　as　an
  intelligent　man　of　a　different　sort；　and　to　show　me　as　much　as　I
  could　understand。。。。
  Let　me　confess　that　de　Tessin　had　had　to　persuade　me　to　go　to
  Headquarters。　　Partly　that　was　because　I　didn't　want　to　use　up
  even　ten　minutes　of　the　time　of　the　French　commanders；　but　much
  more　was　it　because　I　have　a　dread　of　Personages。
  There　is　something　about　these　encounters　with　personagesas　if
  one　was　dealing　with　an　effigy；　with　something　tremendous　put　up
  to　be　seen。　　As　one　approaches　they　become　remoter；　great
  unsuspected　crevasses　are　discovered。　　Across　these　gulfs　one
  makes　ineffective　gestures。　　They　do　not　meet　you；　they　pose　at
  you　enormously。　　Sometimes　there　is　something　more　terrible　than
  dignity；　there　is　condescension。　　They　are　affable。　　I　had　but
  recently　had　an　encounter　with　an　imported　Colonial　statesman；
  who　was　being　advertised　like　a　soap　as　the　coming　saviour　of
  England。　　I　was　curious　to　meet　him。　　I　wanted　to　talk　to　him
  about　all　sorts　of　things　that　would　have　been　profoundly
  interesting；　as　for　example　his　impressions　of　the　Anglican
  bishops。　　But　I　met　a　hoarding。　　I　met　a　thing　like　a　mask；
  something　surrounded　by　touts；　that　was　dully　tryingas　we　say
  in　Londonto　〃come　it〃　over　me。　　He　said　he　had　heard　of　me。　　He
  had　read　/Kipps。/　　I　intimated　that　though　I　had　written
  /Kipps/　I　had　continued　to　existbut　he　did　not　see　the
  point　of　that。　　I　said　certain　things　to　him　about　the　difference
  in　complexity　between　political　life　in　Great　Britain　and　the
  colonies；　that　he　was　manifestly　totally　capable　of
  understanding。　　But　one　could　as　soon　have　talked　with　one　of　the
  statesmen　at　Madame　Tussaud's。　　An　antiquated　figure。
  The　effect　of　these　French　commanders　upon　me　was　quite　different
  from　my　encounter　with　that　last　belated　adventurer　in　the　effigy
  line。　　I　felt　indeed　that　I　was　a　rather　idle　and　flimsy　person
  coming　into　the　presence　of　a　tremendously　compact　and　busy
  person；　but　I　had　none　of　that　unpleasant　sensation　of　a
  conventional　role；　of　being　expected　to　play　the　minute
  worshipper　in　the　presence　of　the　Great　Image。　　I　was　so　moved　by
  the　common　humanity　of　them　all　that　in　each　case　I　broke　away
  from　the　discreet　interpretations　of　de　Tessin　and　talked　to　them
  directly　in　the　strange　dialect　which　I　have　inadvertently　made
  for　myself　out　of　French；　a　disemvowelled　speech　of　epicene
  substantives　and　verbs　of　incalculable　moods　and　temperaments；
  〃/Entente　Cordiale。/〃　The　talked　back　as　if　we　had　met　in　a
  club。　　General　Pelle　pulled　my　leg　very　gaily　with　some
  quotations　from　an　article　I　had　written　upon　the　conclusion　of
  the　war。　　I　think　he　found　my　accent　and　my　idioms　very
  refreshing。　　I　had　committed　myself　to　a　statement　that　Bloch　has
  been　justified　in　his　theory　that　under　modern　conditions　the
  defensive　wins。　　There　were　excellent　reasons；　and　General
  Pelle　pointed　them　out；　for　doubting　the　applicability　of
  this　to　the　present　war。
  Both　he　and　General　Castelnau　were　anxious　that　I　should　see　a
  French　offensive　sector　as　well　as　Soissons。　　Then　I　should
  understand。　　And　since　then　I　have　returned　from　Italy　and　I　have
  seen　and　I　do　understand。　　The　Allied　offensive　was　winning；　that
  is　to　say；　it　was　inflicting　far　greater　losses　than　it
  experienced；　it　was　steadily　beating　the　spirit　out　of　the　German
  army　and　shoving　it　back　towards　Germany。　　Only　peace　can；　I
  believe；　prevent　the　western　war　ending　in　Germany。　　And　it　is
  the　Frenchmen　mainly　who　have　worked　out　how　to　do　it。
  But　of　that　I　will　write　later。　　My　present　concern　is　with
  General　Joffre　as　the　antithesis　of　the　Effigy。　　The　effigy；
  〃Thou　Prince　of　Peace；
  Thou　God　of　War；〃
  as　Mr。　Sylvester　Viereck　called　him；　prances　on　a　great　horse；
  wears　a　Wagnerian　cloak；　sits　on　thrones　and　talks　of　shining
  armour　and　〃unser　Gott。〃　　All　Germany　gloats　over　his　Jovian
  domesticities；　when　I　was　last　in　Berlin　the　postcard　shops　were
  full　of　photographs　of　a　sort　of　procession　of　himself　and　his
  sons；　all　with　long　straight　noses　and　sidelong　eyes。　　It　is　all
  dreadfully　old…fashioned。　　General　Joffre　sits　in　a　pleasant
  little　sitting…room　in　a　very　ordinary　little　villa　conveniently
  close　to　Headquarters。　　He　sits　among　furniture　that　has　no
  quality　of　pose　at　all；　that　is　neither　magnificent　nor
  ostentatiously　simple　and　hardy。　　He　has　dark；　rather　sleepy　eyes
  under　light　eyelashes；　eyes　that　glance　shyly　and　a　little
  askance　at　his　interlocutor　and　then；　as　he　talks；　awayas　if　he
  did　not　want　to　be　preoccupied　by　your　attention。　　He　has　a
  broad；　rather　broadly　modelled　face；　a　soft　voice；　the　sort　of
  persuasive　reasoning　voice　that　many　Scotchmen　have。　　I　had　a
  feeling　that　if　he　were　to　talk　English　he　would　do　so　with　a
  Scotch　accent。　　Perhaps　somewhere　I　have　met　a　Scotchman　of　his
  type。　　He　sat　sideways　to　his　table　as　a　man　might　sit　for　a
  gossip　in　a　cafe。
  He　is　physically　a　big　man；　and　in　my　memory　he　grows　bigger　and
  bigger。　　He　sits　now　in　my　memory　in　a　room　like　the　rooms　that
  any　decent　people　might　occupy；　like　that　vague　room　that　is　the
  background　of　so　many　good　portraits；　a　great　blue…coated　figure
  with　a　soft　voice　and　rather　tired　eyes；　explaining　very　simply
  and　clearly　the　difficulties　that　this　vulgar　imperialism　of
  Germany；　seizing　upon　modern　science　and　modern　appliances；　has
  created　for　France　and　the　spirit　of　mankind。
  He　talked　chiefly　of　the　strangeness　of　this　confounded　war。　　It
  was　exactly　like　a　sanitary　engineer　speaking　of　the　unexpected
  difficulties　of　some　particularly　nasty　inundation。　　He　made
  little　stiff　horizontal　gestures　with　his　hands。　　First　one　had
  to　build　a　dam　and　stop　the　rush　of　it；　so；　then　one　had　to
  organise　the　push　that　would　send　it　back。　　He　explained　the
  organisation　of　the　push。　　They　had　got　an　organisation　now　that
  was　working　out　most　satisfactorily。　　Had　I　seen　a　sector？　　I　had
  seen　the　sector　of　Soissons。　　Yes；　but　that　was　not　now　an
  offensive　sector。　　I　must　see　an　offensive　sector；　see　the　whole
  method。　　Lieutenant　de　Tessin　must　see　that　that　was　arranged。。。。
  Neither　he　nor　his　two　colleagues　spoke　of　the　Germans　with
  either　hostility　or　humanity。　　Germany　for　them　is　manifestly
  merely　an　objectionable　Thing。　　It　is　not　a　nation；　not　a　people；
  but　a　nuisance。　　One　has　to　build　up　this　great　counter…thrust
  bigger　and　stronger　until　they　go　back。　　The　war　must　end　in
  Germany。　　The　French　generals　have　no　such　delusions　about　German
  science　or　foresight　or　capacity　as　dominates　the　smart　dinner
  chatter　of　England。　　One　knows　so　well　that　detestable　type　of
  English　folly；　and　its　voice　of　despair：　〃They　/plan/
  everything。　　They　foresee　everything。〃　　This　paralysing
  Germanophobia　is　not　common　among　the　French。　　The　war；　the
  French　generals　said；　might　takewell；　it　certainly　looked　like
  taking　longer　than　the　winter。　　Next　summer　perhaps。　　Probably；
  if　nothing　unforeseen　occurred；　before　a　full　year　has　passed　the
  job　might　be　done。　　Were　any　surprises　in　store？　　They　didn't
  seem　to　think　it　was　probable　that　the　Germans　had　any　surprises
  in　store。。。。　　The　Germans　are　not　an　inventive　people；　they　are
  merely　a　thorough　people。　　One　never　knew　for　certain。
  Is　any　greater　contrast　possible　than　between　so　implacable；
  patient；　reasonableand　above　all　things　/capable/a　being
  as　General　Joffre　and　the　rhetorician　of　Potsdam；　with　his　talk
  of　German　Might；　of　Hammer　Blows　and　Hacking　Through？　　Can　there
  be　any　doubt　of　the　ultimate　issue　between　them？
  There　are　stories　that　sound　pleasantly　true　to　me　about　General
  Joffre's　ambitions　after　the　war。　　He　is　tired；　then　he　will　be
  very　tired。　　He　will；　he　declares；　spend　his　first　free　summer　in
  making　a　tour　of　the　waterways　of　France　in　a　barge。　　So　I　hope
  it　may　be。　　One　imagines　him　as　sitting　quietly　on　the　crumpled
  remains　of　the　last　and　tawdriest　of　Imperial　traditions；　with　a
  fishing　line　in　the　placid　water　and　a　large　buff　umbrella
  overhead；　the　good　ordinary　man　who　does　whatever　is　given　to　him
  to　doas　well　as　he　can。　　The　power　that　has　taken　the　great
  effigy　of　German　imperialism　by　the　throat　is　something　very
  composite　and　complex；　but　if　we　personify　it　at　all　it　is
  something　more　like　Gene