My thought is that if the Moslems of our Colonial Empire in the North of Africa are not gradually, gently, little by little, converted, there will be a national movement like that in Turkey. An intellectual élite will form itself in the big towns, trained in the French fashion, but French neither in mind nor heart, lacking all Moslem faith, but keeping the name of it to be able to influence the masses, who remain ignorant of us, alienated from us by their priests and by our contact with them, too often very unfit to create affection. In the long run the élite will use Islam as a lever to raise the masses against us. The population is now about thirty millions; thanks to peace, it will double in fifty years. It will have railways, all the plant of civilization, and will have been trained by us to the use of our arms. If we have not made Frenchmen of these people, they will drive us out. The only way for them to become French is by becoming Christians. It would be interesting to know to what extent this strange, wonderful son of France represented the feelings of France as a whole. * * * * * After perusing the long list of those who have paid the price of empire with their lives, the thoughtful man may ask whether the reward has justified the sacrifice. The atlas gives the answer. Glance at a map of, say, 1880, and you will find the extent of French occupation marked by a few wedges driven into the coast-line of Northwest Africa, while as for the Sahara, it is merely an expanse of speckled yellow labeled “Unexplored.” But unfold a map of to-day and we find that, barring Libya, Liberia, and a few British and Spanish enclaves along the West Coast, the whole of that portion of Africa lying between the Mediterranean and the Congo, between the Atlantic and the valley of the Nile, is tinted the same color, is overshadowed by the same flag, is ruled by the same nation—and that nation is France. It is one of the most astounding achievements in the history of the world, this building of a colossal empire from savagery and sand. * * * * * Were a map of Africa to be superimposed on a map of North America it would be found that in area and dimensions the Sahara Desert very closely corresponds to the United States. Yet it is a singular fact that more misconceptions exist in regard to this vast region, the fringes of which are visited annually by thousands of tourists, than about almost any area on the face of the globe. Doubtless because the makers of maps were so long accustomed to painting the Sahara a speckled yellow, ninety-nine persons out of every hundred visualize it as an illimitable stretch of sun-scorched sand, flat as a floor, quite incapable of supporting life, and utterly destitute of vegetation. Nothing could be farther from the truth.