of Time you advance by toil and sweat; provinces and nations are the military milestones which mark your resting-places. Your weakness alone created them. Before I can lead you farther, I must wait till you have taken breath; you have so little strength of lungs or heart, that you have made virtues of your weaknesses. You admire your heroes for the distance they went before they dropped exhausted; not because they were the first to reach those limits. And when you have come without difficulty to the spot where these forerunners stopped, you think yourselves heroes in your turn_.
_What have these shadows of the past to do with us today? Bayard, Joan of Arc, we have no further need of heroism like theirs, knights and martyrs of a dead cause. We want apostles of the future, great hearts that will give themselves for a larger country, a higher ideal. Forward then; cross the old frontiers, and if you must still use these crutches, to help your lameness, thrust the barriers back to the doors of the East, the confines of Europe, until at last step by step you reach the end, and men encircle the globe, each holding by the other's hand. Before you insult me, poor little author, descend into your own heart, examine yourself. The gift of speech was given you to guide your people, and you have used it to deceive yourself and lead them astray. You have added to their error instead of saving them, even to the point that you have laid your own son whom you loved on the altar of your untruth_.
_Now at least dare to show to others the ruin that you are, and say: "See what I am, and take warning!" ...Go! And may your misfortunes save those that come after from the same fate! Dare to speak, and cry out to them: "You are mad, peoples of the earth; instead of defending your Country, you are killing her_. You _are your Country and the enemies are your brothers. Millions of God's creatures" love one
