This war has been singularly barren of heroic figures, perhaps because its very magnitude has produced such a multitude of heroes that no one can be placed before the rest, yet, when this greatest phase of history comes to be written down with historic perspective, it is probable that Joseph Joffre will stand forth as its most imposing figure. As Charles Martel, “the Hammer of God,” saved Europe from Arab conquest at Tours, and John Sobieski, by turning back the Turks from the gates of Vienna, saved the cause of Christianity, so Joffre broke the wave of German invasion at the Marne and saved mankind from subjection to a no less barbarous despotism. In this elderly man in the scarlet _képi_ we see one of the world’s great captains. His fame is immortal; his place in history is secure. Future generations will point to his visit to these shores as one of the great events of our history. But I like to think that the delirious enthusiasm which he everywhere aroused was something more than a tribute to the greatness of the man and the magnitude of his achievements. I like to think that the cheers which greeted him meant, rather, that we welcomed his presence on American soil as a tangible sign that we had at last returned to the traditions of our fathers, that we had regained our self-respect, that we had offered the sacrifice which will save the nation’s soul. Though the coming of Joffre had in most quarters the effect of a great spiritual awakening, it was only to be expected that there should be some who would question the motives which brought him. These mean-souled little men went about whispering in their mean and furtive way that the Marshal and his companions were by no means as disinterested as they would have liked us to believe. When we hear such cynical intimations, it might be well for us to bear in mind, however, that in their day the motives of Washington and Lincoln were repeatedly impugned. But their critics have long since passed into the limbus of oblivion, while the men they criticized will live forever in the hearts of their countrymen. That the French hoped and prayed for our aid they would, I imagine, be the last to deny. Certainly their need of it was desperate. But the fact that we have afforded them financial assistance does not justify us in assuming the airs of philanthropists, for we are nothing of the sort. The money that we have furnished France is not given, but loaned, just as a bank loans money to an individual of known responsibility, and, moreover, every dollar of it is to be expended in the United States, thus providing employment for millions of our people. That we, who sent Franklin to implore the aid of the French king, we who accepted from France a loan which we have never repaid, we who owe our very existence as a nation to French soldiers, French ships, and French money, should presume to criticize France for eagerly accepting what we freely offered, is but to show a lack of gratitude and of good taste.