A perusal of war-time literature cannot sufficiently indicate the part played by French language in periods of stress. One must preferably have had the privilege of acquaintance with correspondence exchanged between relatives and intimates. Patriotism pours unfaltering from the artless lines never intended for strangers’ eyes. It is as if the crowded consciousness of French nationality found constant release through its language. Every observant foreigner in France has been struck by this fact. In some instances where perception was more than usually attentive we find, as in E. Wharton’s “Fighting France,” that: “It is not too much to say that the French are at this moment drawing a part of their national strength from their language. The piety with which they have cherished and cultivated it has made it a precious instrument in their hands. It can say so beautifully what they feel that they find strength and renovation in using it; and the word once uttered is passed on, and carries the same help to others. Countless instances of such happy expression could be cited by any one who has lived the last year (1915) in France. On the bodies of young soldiers have been found letters of farewell to their parents that made one think of some heroic Elizabethan verse; and the mothers robbed of these sons have sent them an answering cry of courage.” One of the most remarkable instances of the influence of poetry on national destiny is found in Serbian nationality, which has been cast altogether in the mold of the country’s epic ballads or “pjesmes.” Although primarily inspired by the valorous deeds of legendary heroes, these indigenous compositions describe Serbian life and nature with extraordinary verisimilitude and beauty. They are national in a significant sense, not merely because the very soul of the Serbian people is displayed in their lines, but also because they have perpetuated Serbian history and language. The purity of the Serbian tongue, its freedom from alien words, no less than the maintenance of historical continuity in Serbia are due, in a large measure, to the wandering of native minstrels--the guzlars--who went to and fro reciting or singing the wonderful exploits of their noted countrymen. Their unconscious, though passionate insistence provided the Serbian with the only schooling in national sentiment which he has undergone for generations beginning with half-mythical times. However slow, the method was effective, for it prevented atrophy of national hopes. Without this influence the Serbians would probably have degenerated into a people listless and inert to the call of nationality. The very name of Serbia might never have been recorded in modern history.