Don't be angry with my inferiority. I feel as though my armour had been
taken off. Well, I can't help it.


_5 o'clock._

I am a good deal tired by drill. But the fine air of the Meuse keeps me
in health. Dear mother, I wish I might always seek all that is noble and
good. I wish I might always feel within myself the inspiration that
urges towards the true treasures of life. But alas! just now I have a
mind of lead.


_March 14, Sunday morning,
in the Sabbath peace._

DEAREST MOTHER,--Your good, life-giving letters have come at last, after
my long privation, the price I paid for my enjoyment of rest. The pretty
town is waking in the haze of the river, the waters hurry over their
clean stones. All things have that look of moderation and charming
finish that is characteristic of this part of the country.

I read a little, but I am so overtired by the physical exertion to which
we are compelled, that I fall asleep on the instant. We are digging
trenches and trenches.

Dear mother, to go back to those wonderful times of the end of February,
I must repeat that my memory of them is something like that of an
experiment in science. I had conceived violence under a theoretic