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1&4S 1847 1853 

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ES _j i w /2 

LAV jS. 




f Public library . 

Tros Tyriusque mihi nullo discrimine ajetur 


9 East 37th STREET 


Copyright, 1927, by 

All Rights Resetted 






pedition, 374. 

Affairs of the World, 1. 179, 447, 573, 702. 

Age and Literature, 546. 

Air, Columbus of the, 353. 

ARMSTRONG, DONALD B. A Long Life and a 
Merry One, 493. 

Races Meet, 381. 

ARNOLD, EDWIN L. Giants and White Horses, 

ATKINSON, J. BROOKS. Large-Scale Drama 
Production, 686. 

Babies, Saving the, 200. 

BENT, SILAS. The Invasion of Privacy, 399. 


Problem of the Mississippi, 630. 
BONSAL, STEPHEN. China and the "Foreign 

Devils", 252. 

BRADSHER, EARL L. Age and Literature, 546. 
BRETHERTON, C. H. Too Much Democracy, 646. 
BROADHURST, JEAN. New Miracles for Old, 421. 

Albert C. Ritchie, 606. 
Burgoyne Expedition, The, 374. 
BUTLER, HON. THOMAS S. Don't Give Up the 

Ships, 214. 


from a War Diary, 270, 406. 
Charles Evans Hughes, 601. 
COFFIN, ROBERT P. Tristram. From Whitehead 

to Le Havre, 537. 
Columbus of the Air, 353. 
Coolidge in Spite of Himself, 337. 
Constitution, Uncertainties of Our, 483. 
Convert from Socialism, A, 498. 
Cracker Barrel Philosopher, 457, 585, 713. 
Crisis in the Church, The, 260. 

DAVIS, PARKE H. Football and Its Satellites, 560. 

DAWES, HON. CHARLES G. The Needed Modifi 
cation of the Primary System, 193. 

Democrats Prefer Smith, 465, 472. 

Democracy, Too Much, 646. 

Divided House of Russia, 612. 

Divorce and the Church 476. 

Don't Give Up the Ships, 214. 

DORR, RHETA CHILDE. A Convert from So 
cialism, 498. 

Dramatist of New-Born Ireland, A, 315. 

East is East and West is West, 669. 

Fashion, For Sake of, 391. 

FENN, REV. DR. PERCY T. Lo, the Poor 

Cleric, 662. 

Finance, Parasites of, 516. 
Football and Its Satellites, 560. 
"Foreign Devils", China and the, 252. 
For Fashion's Sake, 391. 
From Whitehead to Le Havre, 537. 

GENET, EDMOND C. C. Leaves from a War 

Diary, 270, 406. 
Geniuses, Pseudo, 522." 
GHERARDI, BANCROFT. Voices Across the Sea, 


Giants and White Horses, 554. 

Through Birth Control, 622. 
Governor Albert C. Ritchie, 606. 

HAMADA, KENGI. East is East and West is 

West, 669. 

Finance, 223. 

High Cost of Leisure, The, 304. 
Hughes, Charles Evans, 601. 

Inland Waterways, Importance of, 235. 
In Retrospect, 173, 333, 461, 589, 717. 
Invasion of Privacy, The, 399. 
Ireland, A Dramatist of New-Born, 315. 

JOHNSON, BURGES. The Cracker Barrel Philos 
opher, 457, 585, 713. 

and New, 566. 

Journalism, The Invasion of Privacy by, 399. 

KENDALL, CARLTON. Pseudo-Geniuses, 522. 
KENT, MURIEL. Personality in Letters, 437. 

Large-Scale Drama Production, 686. 
Leaves from a War Diary, 270, 406. 
Leisure, The High Cost of, 304. 
Lindbergh, Columbus of the Air, 353. 
Long Life and a Merry One, A, 493. 
Lo, the Poor Cleric, 662. 

LYONS, NORBERT. What Next in the Philip 
pines, 365. 

MEGROZ, R. L. Revolt, 436. 
Merchant Ships and the Navy, 505. 



"Choose" Coolidge, 348. 
MINOT, JOHN CLAIR. What Door Does the 

Phi Beta Kappa Key Open, 531. 
Mississippi, The Problem of the, 630. 

Color, 297. 
Musical Comedy, 433. 

Needed Modification of the Primary System, 193. 

New Books Reviewed, 163, 323. 

New Miracles for Old, 421. 

NORDSTEDT, GEORGE. Prototype of "The 

Raven", 692 
Notes on Some Recent Books, 323. 

O'HEGARTY, P. S. A Dramatist of New-Born 
Ireland, 315. 

Parasites of Finance, 516. 


Sake, 391. 

Perils of Race Color, 297. 

Comedy, 433. 
Phi Beta Kappa Key, What Door Does It 

Open, 531. 

Philippines, What Next in the, 365. 
PLUMMER, EDWARD C. Merchant Ships and 

the Navy, 505. 

Poetry: MEGROZ, R. L. Revolt, 436. 

Prefer Smith: On Record and Principle, 465. 
POST, AUGUSTUS. Columbus of the Air, 353. 
POWERS, FRED PERRY. The Crisis in the 

Church, 260. 
Primary System, The Needed Modification of, 


Problem of the Mississippi, 630. 
Pseudo-Geniuses, 522. 
PUBLIUS. Charles Evans Hughes, 601. 

Race Color, Perils of, 297. 

RANSDELL, HON. JOSEPH E. Importance of 
Inland Waterways in Transportation, 235. 

Revolt, 436. 

Ritchie, Governor Albert C., 606. 

crats Prefer Smith: As a Practical Idealist, 472. 

Rural Finance, Untangling, 223. 

Russia, Divided House of, 612. 

Saving the Babies, 200. 
Sean O'Casey, 315 

Selling Our Goods Abroad, 286. 

Senate or the States, The, 593. 

SFORZA, COUNT CARLO. The Divided House of 
Russia, 612. 

Solitaire, 675. 

Slovene Question. 381. 

Socialism, A Convert from, 498. 

SPARGO, JOHN. Coolidge in Spite of Himself, 

STONE, DONALD L. Uncertainties of Our 
Constitution, 483. 

SUMNER, JOHN S. Thrill Addicts and the Thea 
tre, 241. 


or Not to Vote, 680. 
Theatre, Thrill Addicts and the, 241. 
Technique of Life, The, 424. 
Thanatopsis, Old and New, 566. 
Thrill Addicts and the Theatre, 241. 
Too Much Democracy, 646. 
To Vote or Not to Vote, 680. 

Uncertainties of Our Constitution, 483. 
Unmusical Non-Comedy, 433. 

VAN NORMAN, Louis E. Selling Our Goods 

Abroad, 286. 
VINCENT, DR. GEORGE E. Saving the Babies, 

Voices Across the Sea, 654. 


the States, 593. 
War Diary, Leaves from, 406. 
What Next in the Philippines, 365. 
What Door Does the Phi Beta Kappa Key 

Open, 531. 

Where Three Races Meet, 381. 
WHITE, STEWART EDWARD. The Technique of 

Life, 424. 
Why Democrats Prefer Smith: As a Practical 

Idealist. 472. 
Why Democrats Prefer Smith: On Record and 

Principle, 465. 

Why Women Cheat at Solitaire, 675. 
Why Women "Choose" Coolidge, 348. 

Leisure, 304. 

Church, 476. 

WINTER, KEYES. Parasites and Finance, 516. 
Women. Why, "Choose" Coolidge, 348. 

TTOS Tyriutque irrihi nullo discrimine agetur 





ANOTHER coincidence occurs in Anglo-American history. It 
has long been a truism that the war of 1776 was as revolutionary 
to Great Britain herself and to the remainder of its empire as it 
was to America. It moved the British Government to adopt 
enlightened policies which averted any more such insurrections 
and which confirmed the union of that empire as much as it did 
the union of these States. Next the one hundredth anniversary 
of our independence was coincident with the adoption of the im 
perial title by the British sovereign, in token of more complete in 
tegration of her dominions. And now, for the third time, while 
we have been commemorating our sesquicentenary, British states 
men have been reorganizing that empire more radically and 
significantly than ever before in all its history; the new order of 
affairs being denoted by the coming of a Minister to Washington 
from Canada, as if from some entirely independent Power, and by 
our sending in return a Minister to Ottawa. 

This is a token of increased coordination among the English- 
speaking nations of the world. It does not, we assume, mean any 
withdrawal of the Dominions from their allegiance to the Crown, 
any more than reaffiliation of America therewith. But it stresses 
the significant circumstance that the Commonwealth of British 
Nations is becoming more and more a community of nations 

Copyright, 1927, by North American Review Corporation. All rights reserved. 
VOL. CCXXIV. NO. 834 1 


rather than of provinces; and that is a circumstance which, para 
doxically, draws them nearer to America while not drawing Amer 
ica nearer to them. Talk of political reunion or permanent 
alliance between America and Great Britain would be vanity of 
vanities. But talk of moral cooperation between this country 
and all the members of the Commonwealth, for the promotion 
of justice and the maintenance of peace, is one of the most prac 
tical and hopeful of things. There was no exaggeration in the 
recent declaration of Mr. Stanley M. Bruce, the Prime Minister 
of Australia, to a New York audience, that " If the British Empire 
and America work together for the rehabilitation of Europe, and 
the promotion of peace, there is hope for mankind. If they do 
not, nothing mankind can devise can possibly succeed." Nor 
was there anything beyond plain common sense in the words of 
Mr. J. L. Garvin, the eminent English publicist, to the effect 
that "Whenever world peace itself is threatened, its maintenance 
would be assured by the combined weight of England and Amer 
ica thrown into the same scale. Periodical English-speaking 
conferences along the free lines of the recent Imperial Confer 
ence would keep up cooperation without entanglement." 

Any formal pact would perhaps not be practicable, nor neces 
sary. The Monroe Doctrine does not in terms apply to Canada, 
or the British West Indies, or Australia or New Zealand. Yet no 
rational man questions what would be the course of the United 
States of the United States Army and Navy in case of danger 
of conquest of one of those countries by any other Power; or in 
deed what would be the course of those countries and of the 
whole British Commonwealth in the inconceivable case of danger 
of the conquest of America. As was said more than two genera 
tions ago, and as will be truly said for uncounted generations yet 
to come, "Blood is thicker than water." 


Complicated and involved as the Chinese problem is, one 
outstanding issue looms supreme. That is, the question of 
China's equal sovereignty among the independent Powers of 


the world. More than two-thirds of a century ago, Lincoln 
expressed the wise belief that this nation could not permanently 
endure half slave and half free. So might it long ago have been 
declared that China could not, would not, should not, per 
manently endure to be half sovereign and half subject. Either 
it must be entirely sovereign, with full control over all its own 
territory, its courts, its tariffs, and what not; or it must sink to 
the level of a dependent and subject State. The determination 
of that question is paramount among the issues in Eastern Asia 
today, just as much as was that of slavery or freedom in the 
America of Lincoln's time. All other issues, and all other settle 
ments that may be made, are subordinate to it. 

The matter of control of foreign concessions of territory is one 
with which we are not concerned. It has not been the American 
practice to seek such concessions. In that of alien control of 
Chinese tariffs we have been chiefly followers of and participators 
in European practice. Great Britain has been above all others 
responsible for the system which has long been imposed. But 
under the characteristic American principle of "most favored 
nation", established by Kearny with the "open door" eighty-five 
years ago, we have, of course, been identified with that system. 
In the matter of extraterritorial jurisdiction in the courts, how 
ever, America was the leader and has been properly regarded as 
its prime exponent. We may date the beginning of it away 
back to the Terranova case, more than a hundred years ago; 
while the detailed explication and confirmation of the principle 
occurred in 1844, when "Count" Caleb Gushing, under the most 
absurd credentials ever borne by an American or any other 
envoy, made one of the shrewdest and wisest of all our treaties. 
The principle of extraterritoriality had indeed been practiced 
to a limited extent for centuries, between European and some 
Mohammedan countries, but it remained for Gushing, in the 
name of America, first of all to insist upon its formal adoption 
as a world-wide rule between Christian and all non-Christian 
nations. And this, as he took pains to explain, was not because 
of any inferiority of the non-Christian States in independent 
sovereignty or in their right to their own codes of law and juris 
prudence; but it was simply a practical recognition of the radical 


and essential difference between two civilizations. "Between 
them and us," said Gushing, "there is no community of ideas, 
no common law of nations, no interchange of good offices." 

Conditions have greatly changed, and international relations 
have changed, since that time. It is still true that "East is 
East, and West is West"; but the twain are today much nearer 
meeting in many important respects than would have been 
deemed possible a generation ago. It is therefore a fair question 
whether this principle of extraterritoriality may not be abandoned 
in the case of China, even as we have already abandoned it in 
the case of other Asiatic Powers; and since America was the 
leader in establishing it, it would be eminently fitting for it to 
exercise such leadership in abrogating, modifying or otherwise 
dealing with it as the best judgment may dictate. That Great 
Britain signifies an inclination to cooperate in whatever policy 
our Government may pursue, is not the least auspicious feature 
of the case. 


The President's policy in Nicaragua was right. That we be 
lieve to be the judgment of the American people; with the excep 
tion perhaps of two small groups. There are those who hold that 
whatever is, is wrong; and that therefore insurgents against a con 
stituted government are always of necessity right. There are 
also various replicas of Ko-Ko's 

. . . idiot who praises in enthusiastic tone 
All centuries but this^and every country but his own, 

who hold it iniquitous for the United States to enforce its 
rights or even fulfil its duties, while praising all other nations for 
doing so; repudiating the declaration in our primal charter that 
this country has "full power to do all acts and things which inde 
pendent States may of right do". For us, we prefer Thomas Jef 
ferson to Young-Man- Afraid-of -His -Horses. 

The President's course was justifiable on three major grounds, 
any one of which would have been sufficient, alone. One was, 
the necessity of protecting the lives and property of American 


citizens and the treaty rights of this country. The giving of such 
protection is a fundamental duty. The Government which fails 
to do it abdicates its authority and is unworthy longer to exist. 
Nor can we imagine a more hopeless piece of self -stultification 
than for a nation to invest millions of dollars in a canal route the 
utilization of which will be a necessity to its welfare in the not 
distant future, and then to abandon that property to the contin 
gencies of revolution and potential conquest. 

Another ground was the need of vindicating the Monroe Doc 
trine by affording to the citizens of other countries the protection 
which their Governments requested. When European Powers 
thus entrusted to us the performance of their own duty toward 
their own citizens, they showed in the clearest and most grati 
fying manner their respect for the validity of the Monroe Doc 
trine. Certainly it was incumbent upon us to show equal respect 
for it. We could not play the dog in the manger, by refusing 
either to grant such protection ourselves or to let the European 
Powers do it. There is no exaggeration in saying that the moral 
integrity of the Doctrine was at stake. 

Finally, there was our moral obligation to regard a treaty, even 
one to which we were not ourselves technically but only morally 
a party, as something more than a "scrap of paper". Bear in 
mind that under our countenance and patronage, and with our 
encouragement, the Central American States entered into a sol 
emn compact not to recognize any insurgent or revolutionary 
government unless the freely elected representatives of the people 
had constitutionally reorganized their country. If that did not 
place us under the strongest compulsion to stand by the consti 
tuted Government of Nicaragua, rather than to connive with 
insurgents for its overthrow, then words have lost their meaning 
and we had better strike the negatives out of the Decalogue, and 
reckon that two and two make five. 

We are not willing for a moment to concede that the United 
States is not entitled to maintain its rights or is not bound to dis 
charge its duties, in any place, at any time. We shall not admit 
that it is wrong for America to pursue a course which those who 
affect to condemn would piously praise if it were done by the 
League of Nations; or for America to do, on its own initiative, in 


a neighboring State, that which its critics would applaud it for 
doing at the dictation of the League in Borrioboola Gha or the 
domains of the Akhoond of Swat. 


America's bereavements, in the deaths of Presidents in office, 
have been so sorrowfully frequent that we can truly sympathize 
with Japan in her time of mourning. Yet we might also wish for 
a certain degree of emulation, here, of the Japanese spirit of 
reverence for the Chief of State, both living and dying. For 
the profound and protracted manifestations of woe at the passing 
of an Emperor are not mere worship of the individual, albeit 
he was traditionally reputed to be of Divine descent. Over 
and above all that, they are denotements of reverence for the 
lawful authority of which he was the supreme exponent; just 
as the divinity which hedged him and equally hedges his suc 
cessor must be regarded as an adumbration not of the divine 
personality so much as of the divine sovereignty as the basis of 
all true law. We must, we repeat, wish that America might 
always have as much respect for a Chief of State chosen by the 
sovereign volition of the people, as the representative of law 
and government, as the Japanese have for their hereditary 
monarch in a like capacity. 

It is the felicitous custom of Japan to regard and to name each 
imperial reign as a special era in her history, and with several of 
those eras it has been the lot of America to be intimately as 
sociated. There was one, marked with the masterful but 
beneficent doings of Matthew Calbraith Perry and Townsend 
Harris, remembered today by Japan with flattering gratitude. 
There was another, comparable in beneficence, the Era of 
Enlightenment, in which America also largely shared. Since 
then increasing contact has not at times been altogether free 
from artificial friction. That we must recognize, and for it we 
may not entirely absolve ourselves from blame. But there is 
assured ground for confidence that in the new era now begun 
there will be a confirmation and a most fruitful cultivation of 


those earlier relationships, both sentimental and practical, 
which made all intercourse between America and Japan sug 
gestive of a dawning Golden Age of peace and universal brother 
hood. It is with such feelings that citizens of this country 
extend at once their sympathies and their auspicious anticipa 
tions to the people and the Government of Japan. 


It was about ten years after the German seizure of Alsace that 
Chili took possession of Tacna and Arica. So perhaps by ten 
years after the restoration of Alsace to France, Tacna and Arica 
will be restored to Peru; though we must earnestly hope that it 
will not be by the same strenuous means. Both seizures were 
made by virtue of military conquest; but with quite different 
ostensible purposes. In the European case the act was absolute 
and perpetual. In the American it was, at least on its face, con 
ditional and subject to revision and reversal. After a period of 
years a plebiscitum was to be held, and was to determine whether 
the Chilian occupation was to be permanently confirmed, or re 
turn to Peru was to be made. But after forty-five years and 
more the plebiscitum is still untaken, the permanent disposition 
of the provinces still undetermined. 

The feature of the case that is most unsatisfactory, perhaps we 
might say most ominous, is the apparent failure of precisely those 
processes which we are wont to regard as most desirable and most 
auspicious in international transactions. Conquest through war 
we deprecate, as we do also the arbitrary holding of the spoils of 
conquest, regardless of the will of the conquered. We have re 
gard for the sanctity of treaties, for the right of self determination 
and for the moral authority of mediation and arbitration. What 
hurts is that the Treaty of Ancon should still be unfulfilled, that 
the promised self determination should be withheld, and that 
the results of the arbitration which was not only accepted but 
actually solicited should not be received with effective acqui 

Never, we may confidently aver, was arbitration more impar- 


tially, more benevolently or more intelligently performed than by 
the President of the United States in this dispute between Chili 
and Peru. Nor do we believe that a more just judgment was 
ever rendered. It should have been promptly accepted by both 
parties and put into effect. That it was not, but that under one 
pretext and another it has been virtually rejected, might be re 
garded as an affront to this country. We shall not thus resent it. 
But we should hope that it would restrain those concerned in it 
from casting suspicions and aspersions, such as some are reported 
to be casting, upon the attitude and course of this country toward 
any other Latin American affairs. Certainly, the United States 
does not deserve to be made the subject of Lorenzo Dow's epi 
gram on Predestination: 

You can and you can't; you will and you won't; 

You'll be damned if you do, you'll be damned if you don't. 

Yet what are we to think, if objection is made to intervention 
on the one hand, and rejection is the fate of arbitration on the 


One of the most significant occurrences of the year thus far in 
Central Europe has been the withdrawal of the Allied control of 
German armaments; or, rather, transfer of it to the League of 
Nations; following immediately upon Germany's agreement to 
demolish all the forts along her eastern frontier which she has 
built since the World War. To optimists, this is auspicious; to 
pessimists and cynics, it is ominous. Which view is correct, only 
the sequel can tell. Certainly it will afford a test of the efficiency 
of the League of Nations in the performance of one of its most 
important functions. Also, it will soon throw light upon the 
real spirit and purpose of the German people and their Govern 
ment; who are now placed on their honor to "seek peace and 
pursue it". It would be profoundly disappointing to have them 
take advantage of this release from Allied surveillance to make 
surreptitious increases of their military strength, with ag 
gressively belligerent aims. There is reason to hope that they 


will not do so, but that they will sincerely devote their attention 
to eliminating the evils which Junkerism brought upon them 
and to confirming the peace of Europe. And it is also to be 
hoped that France and Belgium will have the moral courage 
and the steadiness of nerve to assume, in the absence of proof 
to the contrary, that Germany will keep faith with them. It 
may be that thus this withdrawal of Allied control will be a 
white stone landmark on the path of peace. 


Recent utterances, discussions and negotiations concerning the 
debts of European nations to this country have more and more 
marked the differentiation between two kinds of debtors, among 
peoples and their Governments as well as among individuals. 
These are, in brief, the willing and the unwilling. 

There are those who, whether able or unable to meet their obli 
gations, are willing to do so and desirous of doing so, if they can; 
and who give their chief attention to finding ways and means of 
paying. There are also those who, whether able or unable, are 
unwilling to pay, and who devote their ingenuity to the devising 
of pretexts for avoiding payment. 

It is natural and just, as it is quite inevitable, that the sentiment 
and the attitude of the creditor toward the debtor shall largely 
be determined by the class, of these two, to which the debtor 


The one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the Declaration 
of Independence of New Connecticut, otherwise Vermont, has 
not loomed as large as that of the United States in historical com 
memoration. Yet in some not insignificant respects it was of 
comparable interest; if as nothing more than a too much forgotten 
curiosity in American history. It should be remembered that 
Vermont is unique among the older States, in that it was never 
either a separate British province or a Territory of the United 


States. It was an independent republic, declaring and maintain 
ing its separation both from the British Empire and from the 
United States. It participated gallantly in the Revolution not 
as a part of the United States but as an ally. And finally, when 
it became the fourteenth State of this Union, it was not elevated 
from a Territorial status to that dignity, but was annexed as an 
independent foreign country, just as was Texas, many years 

It is grateful to recall that Vermont in spirit anticipated by 
three-quarters of a century the proud motto of West Virginia, 
Montani semper Liberi, by being the first State on the American 
continent to abolish and prohibit human slavery. Also, it was 
the first to establish universal manhood suffrage, every one of the 
original Thirteen having at that time some property qualification 
for the franchise. Yet it presented an interesting combination 
of conservatism with advanced liberalism, by making moral and 
religious enactments in its statute books which were perhaps the 
most strict of all in America. Certainly Berkeley in Virginia or 
Cotton Mather in Massachusetts Bay could have done no more 
than to make death the penalty for blasphemy, and we cannot 
recall that they did more than Vermont did in prescribing fine and 
flogging for even the simplest profane swearing, and sending 
a man to the stocks for making a social call on a neighbor on a 
Sunday afternoon. These are interesting reminiscences for those 
who are fond of exploiting Ethan Allen as a free-thinker and 
atheist. Happily, after a hundred and fifty years the bigotry has 
vanished, while the freedom and manhood remain, confirmed 
and triumphant. 


Let us say, to begin with, that we do not expect to see parlia 
mentary or Congressional government in America overthrown. 
We shall have no Mussolini nor Primo de Rivera in the United 
States. Trust to the good sense and resolution of the American 
people for that. But let us also say, very advisedly, that both 
Houses of Congress are playing with fire in a reprehensible if not 
an ominous fashion, and are bringing upon themselves a measure 


of reproach not to be greatly differentiated from that which has 
in so many European countries brought Parliaments into discredit 
and given opportunity for dictatorships. And they are doing 
this by flouting and violating the very Constitution to which they 
owe their existence. 

Note, for example, the course of the Senate. An "immutable 
covenant" in the Constitution guarantees equal representation 
in that body to all the States. Yet Senators propose to deprive 
States of equal representation by excluding members who have 
been duly elected or appointed and are constitutionally qualified. 
The Constitution makes the Senate "the judge of the elections, 
returns and qualifications of its own members". But it does not 
empower it to prescribe what those qualifications shall be. On 
the contrary it prescribes them itself; to wit: That a Senator must 
be thirty years old, for nine years a citizen of the United States, 
a resident of the State for which he is elected, and elected by the 
people of the State or, in case of emergency, appointed by the 
Governor. That is all. And all that the Senate has any con 
stitutional right to do is to judge whether a Senator meets those 
constitutional requirements. If he does, it has no option but to 
seat him. If the Senate had a right to impose additional quali 
fications of its own devising, it could impose any such tests, and 
it could thus deprive at will any State of its equal representation. 
It is a mischievous blow at the sovereign rights of the States, and 
at the integrity of the Constitution; though it is likely to recoil 
with more damaging force upon the Senate itself. It is a perilous 
swing of the pendulum to the opposite extreme from the ground 
taken by one of the ablest men that ever sat in that body, John 
C. Calhoun, that Senators were in fact ambassadors from sover 
eign States, over whom nobody but their own States had any 
authority or supervision. 

Again, observe the conduct of the House of Representatives. 
The Constitution requires that body to reapportion its members 
among the States on the basis of a census of the population to be 
taken every ten years. Such a census was taken in 1920, and 
according to the plain intent of the Constitution the House should 
forthwith have made a new apportionment. But it did not do so. 
It has not yet done so, though more than half of the decennial 


period has elapsed. And the indications are that it will not do so 
at all, but will ignore the census of 1920 and wait until another 
is taken in 1930. Meantime gross injustice prevails. Some 
States have more Representatives than they are proportionately 
entitled to, and some are deprived of Representatives to whom 
they are justly entitled. Moreover, it is obvious that if the 
House is permitted thus to ignore one census it may as well ignore 
two, or a dozen. If it can go from the census of 1910 to that of 
1930 without reapportionment, it can go to that of 1940, or 1950, 
or the year 2000, making its present apportionment perpetual. 
It is a flagrant defiance of both the letter and the spirit of the 

These things are, to our mind, immeasurably more serious and 
detrimental than all the filibustering, and pork barrel grabs, and 
enactment of foolish laws, and failure to enact needed laws, which 
have often brought reproach upon Congress. For all such doings 
are at worst merely non-feasance, or mis-feasance. But the 
things which we have described are deliberate mal-feasance, and 
are directed not against some temporary interest of the nation, 
but against its permanent fundamental law. It is, as we have 
said, a dangerous playing with fire, though more likely to scorch 
the players than to destroy the house. What the abatement 
will be, is a question yet to be answered. On its face the Consti 
tution seems to provide no means of coercing Congress or one of 
its Houses to do its duty or to refrain from usurping powers. Yet 
such means must exist, or must be provided; else the Government 
would be unable to preserve its integrity. It would be most 
desirable for the two Houses to come to their senses and them 
selves mend their ways. If not, they must remember that they 
are after all nothing but the creatures of the American people. 


Senator Carter Glass is entitled to gratitude for his authentic 
refutation of Colonel Edward M. House's flatulent and egotistic 
twaddle about his mighty achievements during the Wilson Admin 
istration. The Texas Ranger apparently thought that after the 


death of the President who made him for a short time famous, 
he could play the part of Coriolanus, and boast "Alone I did it!" 
But he forgot that there might still be somebody living who knew 
the facts and in whose showing of them the public would have 
confidence. Lord Randolph Churchill, at the zenith of his bril 
liant career, was thus forgetful, when he imagined that there could 
be no competent substitute for him in the Treasury Office; but 
was quickly driven to confess, "I forgot Goschen!" It was un 
lucky for Colonel House to forget Senator Glass. 

The incident illustrates, however, some of the difficulties with 
which historical writers have to deal. If there are such contra 
dictions among " original sources " in the very generation in which 
the events occurred, what will be the embarrassment of the writer 
a few generations hence who seeks to find the truth of history in 
a symposium of Tumulty, Page, House and Glass? The result 
may rival, though for a different reason, the present frenzy for 
calumniating George Washington. We note that Dr. Albert 
Bushnell Hart, one of the too few serious and competent students 
and teachers of history, reports that hi one current and much- 
touted "biography" of Washington, by a person called Hughes, 
there are two hundred and ninety -seven "absolutely false" 
statements, and a hundred and eleven which are "extremely 
doubtful". It would be most edifying to have Senator Glass 
compile a corresponding tabulation of Colonel House's screed. 


The progeny of Meddlesome Matty are numerous and active. 
A century and a quarter ago Dr. Logan was a good man, and 
meant well. Of that there was never any question. And indeed 
he was actually the means of doing some good, when he surren 
dered his meddlesomeness into authoritative hands. But even 
in those days of ultra-strenuous factionalism, there was general 
recognition of the potential mischief of such doings as his, and 
approval of the law forbidding under penalty their repetition. 
The Alien and Sedition acts were repealed, though renewed with 
intensified severity during the World War. But the Logan act has 
remained unchallenged to this day. 


Its spirit, however, is grossly and widely disregarded, not in 
frequently to the misleading of other nations and to the detriment 
of our relations or negotiations with them. In a recent num 
ber of THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW attention of a somewhat 
excoriatory nature was given to an American gentleman of 
genealogical as well as professional standing, who had assumed 
to speak "off his own" in the name of the American people in 
opposition to the policy of the American Government, on the 
subject of the debts due from European countries, and to do so 
directly to the peoples of those debtor nations. Since then 
others have been busy, in the same pernicious fashion. We have 
no objection to American citizens expressing themselves as freely 
as they please, merely as citizens, to each other and to their 
Government. But for men whom foreign peoples have reason 
to regard though incorrectly as authentic exponents of public 
opinion if not of official purpose, such as a former candidate for 
the Presidency, or who not, to go abroad and to tell those foreign 
peoples in their own capitals that the policy of the American 
Government toward them is not approved by the American na 
tion and will never be executed or enforced, is an impropriety so 
flagrant as to be incapable of adequate characterization without 
the use of language more forcible than polite. 

We must also regard it as unfortunate, to say the least, for 
self-constituted bodies of private citizens, however enlightened 
and benevolent, to affect investigation, counsel or what not in 
the foreign affairs of America, especially under names calculated 
to give the impression that they are invested with official author 
ity. Here, with Who's Who at our elbows, we understand such 
things and know that they are merely "pretty Fanny's way". 
But they are not thus understood abroad; and when foreign peo 
ples hear that "the American Commission for This" or "the 
United States Council for That" has reported so and so, and has 
recommended to the President such and such action, there is 
grave danger of their taking these things far more seriously than 
they deserve. 

It is beyond doubt highly desirable for American citizens to 
acquaint themselves fully and accurately with foreign as well as 
domestic affairs, and it is well for them to make their opinions 


and wishes known to their own representatives in their own Gov 
ernment. But it is not well for them to clamor for the conduct 
of diplomacy in town meeting, or to assume for themselves the 
pose and nomenclature of official agencies. It would have to 
be an immensely greater Commission or Council than any that 
has yet been formed, that could affect to speak for the people 
and Government of America, without incurring the fate of the 
Three Tailors of Tooley Street who called themselves "We, the 
People of England ' ' . We have already had too many Meddlesome 
Matties in "unofficial gossips" and "impudent commissions". 


It is an appropriate and should be a profitable thing to com 
memorate the birthday anniversary of Benjamin Franklin every 
year with a Thrift Week, for the promotion of that homely virtue 
of which he was one of the world's chief apostles. Yet we cannot 
help reflecting, somewhat grimly, we are afraid, upon what would 
be his sentiments and his vigorous words, if he were permitted to 
revisit the glimpses of the moon and observe the appalling thrif t- 
lessness which has long prevailed in the republic which he so 
greatly helped to found. For the fact is that our wastefulness of 
three of our very greatest natural resources has for years been one 
of the most amazing and most discreditable phenomena in the 
economic history of the world. 

COAL. Men still living and resentful at being called old re 
member reading in their school textbooks that the coal deposits in 
a single State of this Union were sufficient to supply all possible 
needs of the entire nation for centuries to come. Since then de 
posits have been opened up in a dozen other States. Yet today 
expert engineers are computing the measurable time that will 
elapse before our coal beds are practically exhausted, at least be 
yond the limits of profitable working. And men who know the 
business best declare that of all the coal taken from our mines, 
probably fifty per cent, has been wasted before reaching the place 
of consumption. 

TIMBER. We used similarly to be told that the forest wealth 


of America was practically inexhaustible; sufficient to supply the 
whole world for centuries to come. But today something re 
sembling a lumber famine prevails. Prices have increased five 
hundred per cent., and more and more we are drawing our sup 
plies from foreign lands. It is true, of course, that the manufac 
ture of paper and other causes have enormously increased the 
consumption of timber. Yet it is a truism of the trade that fifty 
per cent, of the available forest growth that has now vanished 
was not used at all, but was simply wasted and destroyed, either 
carelessly or wantonly. And such a thing as scientific forestry, 
aiming to cultivate woodlands instead of merely cutting them 
off, and to replant forests as fast as they are cut, has scarcely 
been dreamed of on any considerable scale. Today we are 
dependent upon other countries for wood, and have so far de 
nuded our land of trees that it would take fifty years of the most 
ample effort to restore us to a self -supply ing basis. 

WATER. There are few countries of the world so richly 
endowed with natural water supplies, for both potable and in 
dustrial purposes, as the chief industrial States of this Union; yet 
there are few that have so greatly neglected and abused the gift. 
We have allowed millions of horse power, for industrial uses, to 
flow to the sea unutilized, while we have gone on consuming mil 
lions of tons of coal and millions of barrels of oil for which the 
water would have provided a preferable substitute and which it 
would have enabled us to conserve for other uses. A large part 
of our supply of potable water has been lost to us by our practice 
of the stupid and filthy rule that the only way to dispose of 
sewage is to pour it into the nearest river or lake; until now our 
great cities are put to great expense and are driven far afield to 
find enough for their supposed needs. But even in such circum 
stances, profligacy prevails; for in the average large city from 
twenty-five to fifty per cent, of the water that flows through the 
mains is not used at all, but absolutely wasted. 

Yes; it would be mightily interesting to have Ben Franklin 
come back and tell us what he thought of us. Indeed, though, it 
should not be necessary for our information or our admonition. 
To every man of vision and imagination there must be a spiritual 
radio broadcasting from the Elysian Fields ! 



It is impossible to avoid now and then contrasting conditions 
upon the only two foreign land frontiers of the United States. 
Along that at the North, from the Atlantic to the Pacific elsewhere 
in this issue referred to as "the most beautiful boundary on earth", 
no fortifications exist, no troops are massed, no wars are waged nor 
rumors of wars arise, but peace and profound mutual confidence 
have prevailed unbroken for much more than a hundred years. 
Along that at the Southwest, about half as long, also from sea to 
sea, during most of the time for four-fifths of a century, suspicion, 
unrest, antagonism and frequent disturbances have prevailed, 
with several acts of outright war, and an incessant watchfulness 
of armed forces. The difference between the two could scarcely 
be greater or more significant than it is. 

We may charge it in part to the radical differences of race and 
of civilization. But we must also recognize the fact that the re 
grettable conditions along our Mexican border have largely been 
also the fault of the two countries. The instability of govern 
ment which for much of its history has been unhappily character 
istic of Mexico, and the easily explicable preference of revolution 
ists for the American border as a field for operations, must be 
reckoned to have been a prolific source of trouble; not infre 
quently aggravated by filibustering or other operations from our 
side of the line. Nor do we absolve ourselves from blame. The 
war of eighty years ago has been condemned by foremost Amer 
icans as severely as by the Mexicans themselves. Nevertheless 
1867 may fairly be regarded as atonement for 1847. If at the 
earlier date we spoliated Mexico, at the later one we saved her 
from extinction; of which the death of "Poor Carlotta!" this 
present year has been a pathetic and tragic reminder. 

If therefore we may scarcely hope to duplicate along the Rio 
Grande the fortunate conditions which exist on the St. Lawrence 
and the Great Lakes, there could be and there should be a marked 
amelioration of those which have prevailed there during most of 
the time since the abdication of Porfirio Diaz. It should be re 
membered that twenty -five years ago the two countries set an 
inspiring example to the world, by submitting an important and 
long-standing controversy to the Tribunal of Arbitration at The 

ccxxiy. NO, 834 2 


Hague the first ever brought before it and by loyally accepting 
and fulfilling its verdict. Certainly neither of the two should be 
averse or reluctant to follow their own example. 


The painfully obvious and indisputable "wave of crime" 
which has for some time been widely prevalent, and the appar 
ently authentic statistics of a marked increase in juvenile and 
adolescent delinquency, have set sociologists, educators and 
others to discussing the subject of moral and religious training for 
the young, with some significant results. The statements have 
been made, on what seems good authority, that more than eighty 
per cent, of all crimes from murder down to petty misdemeanors 
are committed by persons less than twenty-two years old; that 
the average age of burglars has decreased in ten years from 
twenty-nine to only twenty-one years; that fifty-one per cent, of 
automobile thefts which involve values of tens of millions of 
dollars a year are committed by persons under eighteen; and, 
most pitiful and shameful of all, that forty-two per cent, of the 
unmarried mothers are schoolgirls averaging sixteen years of age. 

That secular education should be an efficient agency for com 
batting such conditions is often insisted upon. Yet that theory 
is confronted with such facts as this: That in the State of New 
York in three years more than six hundred million dollars have 
been spent on public school education, and in those same years 
more than fifty thousand of the pupils in those schools were sent 
to prison as convicted criminals. That religious instruction, in 
church Sunday schools, should be effective, might perhaps rea 
sonably be expected, if it existed to any general extent. But we 
are told that it reaches scarcely thirty per cent, of the children; 
so that seventy per cent, of the children of America are growing 
up without moral or religious instruction of any kind in the 

There remains the home, or what is left of it. The original 
American principle was that children should receive moral in 
struction, discipline and guidance froni their parents. Statistics 


of the practice of that theory are, manifestly, unavailable; and 
the opinions and estimates of shrewd observers would have too 
cynical a tone to be repeated. But the failure of the home thus to 
function is proclaimed unmistakably in the appeals that are made 
for the teachers in the schools to undertake such work. At a re 
cent convention of educators in Oregon a large part of the dis 
cussions urged the "obligation" of teachers to develop moral 
character in their students. One leading speaker called upon his 
fellow teachers to help to "give children internal control now 
that they have renounced external control"; though he does not 
seem to have told by what right of common sense or reason chil 
dren are permitted to "renounce external control". Lowell 
wrote that "The Ten Commandments will not budge." Are we 
to understand, however, that the Fourth has been abrogated? 
Another speaker insisted that teachers must "help in the reor 
ganization of homes which have gone askew". A pious work, 
truly! But is the young normal school graduate to undertake 
the instruction of the fathers and mothers as well as of the chil 
dren of the community? And still another speaker, representing 
the parents of the community, pleaded with high school deans 
that "they train girls in right standards and ideals"; as though 
girls were to wait until they reached high school before being thus 

It was refreshing, after such futile babblings, to hear words of 
truth and reason from so eminent an authority as Dr. Henry 
Suzzallo, who recently retired from the Presidency of the Uni 
versity of Washington; words to be commended to every teacher, 
still more to every church, most of all to every parent in the land. 
"The school," he said, "is an institution preeminently devised 
to deal with intellectual things. The average critic of our 
schools expects them to do things they were never designed to do. 
He expects them to develop triple-A high moral character, which 
is primarily the function of the home and the church. I love my 
job as schoolmaster, but I am not going to take responsibility for 
the development of those things in youth which are left un 
developed by the breakdown of other institutions." 

"Flaming youth" may be admirable, if the flame be constant, 
luminous and serene. But if it is to be kept from flickering and 


flaring and consuming itself in ruin, the hand that steadies it 
should be the hand that lighted it. President Coolidge was ever 
lastingly right in saying that the hope and strength of America 
are in the homes and at the hearthstones of the people. Peda 
gogics, sociology, penology and all the rest of the social sciences 
can never contrive nor discover a substitute for parental au 
thority and domestic influence. 


A biting irony was seen in the Chinese cataclysm. Among the 
Americans who cried for rescue from impending slaughter, and 
who were taken aboard the naval vessels of this nation and con 
veyed to safety, were not a few who had formerly been clamor 
ous for abolition of our Navy, or who were associated with such 
pacifist propaganda. Many here at home, too, who had been 
demanding that every vessel in the Navy be sent to the scrapyard, 
were mightily glad to have their friends thus rescued, and would 
have raged in fury at the iniquity of the Government, if it had 
left them to their fate. 

Disarmament is a noble ideal, no doubt. But the process 
must begin with the human mind and heart. When every nation 
practices justice and desires peace, and has assurance that every 
other does the same, we may dispense with armies and navies. 
Meanwhile we may profitably remember that lack of arms never 
did and never will keep men from fighting when they have occasion 
to fight; nor will its own defencelessness ever protect a country 
from aggression. If there is anybody who supposes that Amer 
icans in China would be more secure from mob or revolutionary 
violence if it were made known that their own Government had 
no ships to send and no troops to land for their protection, he is of 
course entitled to his opinion, by virtue of a right which Hosea 
Biglow long ago declared to be "safe from all devices human". 



OUGHT it to be kept? Can it be kept? And if so, by whom, 
and how? The first question is the most easily answered. The 
peace ought to be kept, and must be kept if we are not to perish. 
The World War made that clear. War has become a new thing. 
We can no longer think of it in terms used in the past. We keep 
the old word but science has presented us a new thing. Men 
waged what they called war in the eighteenth century, but George 
Washington did not know war, nor did Wellington, nor Nelson, 
nor the great Napoleon, as we know it, and because of our 
knowledge, it behooves us to keep the peace. In the old days 
men often spoke nonchalantly of war. They said it was a good 
thing, a tonic. "A little bloodletting will tone us up." Some 
went so far as to call war a "school of virtue." No one has 
ventured to speak thus since the end of the World War. We 
now know that war is a school of vice; and that even if it were a 
school of virtue, what is the use of cultivating virtue if civilization 
goes down in the process? 

In former times men formulated laws of war. It was a game 
and they laid down the rules for the players. It was a duel and 
they regulated the weapons and procedure by agreements and 
conventions. Those days are gone. War can no longer be 
regulated. It defies all restraint. It laughs at repression. 
Those who still talk of regulation live in the past. They think in 
terms of a world which has vanished. It was proved in the World 
War that all rules of war are scraps of paper. This is because 
military defeat now means ruin. No government will refuse to 
make use of any efficient weapon within reach to escape destruc 
tion. Regulations for submarines and poison gas and tanks 
and bombing-airplanes are withes which will blaze like flax 
in the conflagration of every future war. A government is only 
a group of men in charge for the time being of the conduct of 
public affairs. The group changes again and again, and in war 


the changes are more frequent than in peace. No group of 
patriots responsible for the deliverance of their country will 
ever allow it to go down when hard pressed by a military foe 
without using every weapon upon which they can lay their hands, 
no matter what promises may have been made by groups of 
leaders who preceded them. Those who think that war in the 
future can be regulated are living in a world which will return 
no more. 

The old arguments for defense are all out of date. The vaunted 
protection did not protect. The promised security was a myth. 
The insurance did not insure. The multiplication of guns did 
not work for peace. It worked for suspicion and fear and hate 
and war. Men who keep on repeating the old arguments, and 
reciting the old formulas, and urging the continuation of the old 
methods, are survivals of a bygone age. They assume that war 
is what it was. Men to whom experience can teach nothing are 
not safe guides. The man who is eager to prepare for the next 
war is the man to be watched. If civilization is not to sink to 
perdition, there must be no next war. We are under bonds to 
keep the peace. 

But can it be kept? Many say No! Their most convincing 
reason is that the peace has never except for brief seasons been 
kept. "Men have fought from the beginning, and therefore it 
is certain they will fight to the end. Human nature being what 
it is, war is inevitable." But the argument though plausible is 
not conclusive. Impossible things frequently happen. Up till 
yesterday every one said man could not fly. But today he is flying. 
It is easy and it is common. It will be still easier tomorrow. 
Not till today was it possible to hear in New York City the hand- 
clapping at a football game in Pasadena. The Lord Mayor of 
London has just had a conversation with the Mayor of New York 
by telephone, something which no other Lord Mayor of London 
in the history of that city ever attempted. Things never done 
before since the beginning of the world have been done since 
the opening of the present century. Why should anyone say 
oracularly that it is impossible for nations to keep the peace? 
If science has made war a new thing, possibly science has opened 
up new avenues to peace. Science has given us the radio and has 


made it possible for the whole human race to listen in. With 
sane teachers giving instruction from selected centres, all the 
nations can be taught the science and art of peace. "Impossi 
ble!" It was Mirabeau who once said "Never mention to me 
again that blockhead of a word!" With so many incurable 
diseases lying dead at our feet, who dare say that war cannot 
be slain? If there are antitoxins for the poisons which have 
made havoc of our flesh, what ground have we for saying there 
is no antitoxin for the microbe of war? With witchcraft and 
slavery and cannibalism and duelling all vanquished, it is foolish 
to assert that war is unconquerable. There have been three 
historic scourges, famine, pestilence and war. The first two 
have been banished, and only timid hearts declare the third 
cannot be overcome. It is reasonable to believe that everything 
which ought to be done on our planet can be done. If war 
ought to be abolished men can do it. 


By whom can the peace be kept? By all the members of the 
family of nations. Peace is a world problem, and every nation 
must contribute to its solution. But all cannot be expected to 
act at once, and a few strong nations must go ahead. Why 
should the English-speaking nations not lead? Why should they 
not come together openly and unitedly declare their devotion 
to the cause of international good will? The beginning should 
be made by establishing a fuller understanding between England 
and the United States. The Governments of these two countries 
are already working harmoniously together, but the two peoples 
are not so close together as they ought to be. They do not yet 
understand each other, and because of the partial understanding 
their hearts are more or less estranged. The friendship is not 
sufficiently cordial and the union is far from complete. The next 
step in human progress is the creation of additional bonds be 
tween the peoples of these two countries. Certain facts work 
for progress. We have first of all a common language. All 
English-speaking peoples are greatly helped in establishing social 
contacts by possessing a common tongue. The jurisprudence 


of England and the United States is founded on the common law 
of Britain. Both countries are making the same bold experi 
ment in democracy. Both are pledged to ordered liberty, and 
both believe in the supremacy of law. The most beautiful bound 
ary line on earth is that between Canada and the United States. 
It is the only boundary of three thousand eight hundred miles 
without a fort or a gun. Moreover the United States and Eng 
land are under obligation to lead in the cause of peace because of 
their enormous wealth and prestige and power. If nations hold 
their wealth in trust for all mankind, then into what nobler 
cause can Britain and the United States throw their strength than 
into the work of establishing a universal and lasting peace? 

The first step, then, in the great enterprise of world peace is 
to bring the English people and the people of the United States 
into more cordial relations with each other. The area of mutual 
understanding must be widened. There are groups in England 
who understand America, and there are groups in America who 
understand England, and these groups must be extended. The 
popular feeling in both countries must become more sympathetic. 
The public opinion on both sides of the Atlantic must become 
more amiable and appreciative. More than one of our Presidents 
has declared that war between the United States and Great 
Britain is unthinkable, and so it is among the highest and best. 
But when good will is absent from large classes of people, one 
cannot be sure that sane measures will prevail. The only sure 
safeguard against war is friendship. There is no international 
dispute which nations in a good humor cannot settle. There is 
hardly any dispute which can be settled by nations which dislike 
each other. Nothing can take the place of friendly feeling. 
Feeling is the mightiest force in the world. Without sentiment 
no noble cause can get on. Hague tribunals are desirable and so 
are world courts and arbitration treaties, and so is a League of 
Nations. All these are invaluable helps, but all of these are 
unreliable without a league of hearts. It is only when hearts 
touch that international relations rest upon a solid foundation. 
The United States and Great Britain should walk side by side 
down the perilous path of the coming years, liking each other 
all the way. 



There are many obstacles, and these must be overcome; many 
perils, and these must be resolutely faced. Both of us have a 
free press. We would not be content to have a press that was 
muzzled. We are committed to the principle of liberty of 
thought and speech. But liberty is dangerous. It has its 
tragedies. One of its deepest tragedies is in the press. Un 
scrupulous and irresponsible men rush into journalism as they 
do into other professions, and the whole world suffers. There 
are journalists in every country who habitually put the worst 
construction on every act of a foreign government, and who take 
a devilish delight in poisoning the wells of international good will. 
The slurs and jibes of editors and reporters, repeated day after 
day, can induce an irritation in hearts three thousand miles 
away which, unless checked, may become a dangerous inflam 

A newspaper even at its best is a poor medium of revelation 
of the noblest in a nation's mind and heart. A newspaper is a 
megaphone. To attract attention it shouts everything loud. 
From its nature it cannot communicate the finer tones of the 
spirit. Sentiment in every country is higher than the sentiment 
which is reflected in the press. Moreover the newspaper makes 
a specialty of the exceptional and the abnormal. Only these are 
counted "news," and it is these which work their way into 
headlines which can be read across the ocean. No nation can 
be known through its press. The press reports many things 
which are so, but it misleads by leaving out other things which 
must be known if one wishes to know the truth. A few years 
ago certain Irishmen in New York City had a fashion of packing 
Madison Square Garden now and then to relieve themselves by 
hissing England. All their hisses were accurately reported by 
the press here and across the sea. The papers did not report 
that there were twenty thousand New Yorkers in the neighbor 
hood of Madison Square Garden who did not know that an anti- 
British meeting was being held, and that there were probably 
forty thousand other New Yorkers in that section of the city 
who put the hissing Irishmen down as fanatics and fools. One 


room full of hissing men is only a small per cent, of the population 
of a city of six millions, and an insignificant fraction of the total 
population of a country of over a hundred millions. 

In every country there are men who are instinctively boorish. 
They have never mastered the art of good manners. Their 
tongue is not acquainted with the law of kindness. They say 
offensive and cutting things about other countries without 
thinking of consequences. Such men sometimes rise to high 
positions in industry and business and even in politics. Boors 
sometimes become Congressmen and even climb into the United 
States Senate. What they say is reported not because of the 
wisdom or worth of the speaker, but because of his political 
position. Words of a man in a high place work with deadly 
effect if they are foolish, and even more disastrously if they are 
slanderous or insulting. Englishmen and Americans of a certain 
type are alike in possessing a genius for saying exasperating things. 
All such bitter words are blown through trumpets into the ears 
of the world, and international friendships are thus imperilled. 

But the power of mischief is not confined to men who sit in 
high places. The common people by their chatter and gossip 
can bring down the social tone of the world. Bitter words spoken 
at the dinner table, or in the railway train, or in the club room, 
or in the street, words which are contemptuous of men of other 
lands, work together for discord and render it more difficult to 
keep the peace. Tourists a tribe constantly increasing also 
have their responsibilities. They often in a foreign land dis 
grace themselves and their country by behavior they would not 
be guilty of at home. The worst in some people comes out when 
they travel. Tourists become doubly mischievous if on return 
ing home they insist on writing books. Clever men with a gift 
for coining piquant phrases often take delight in writing sar 
castic and blistering things about a country in which they have 
spent as much as two weeks. It is because we all read and speak 
English, that English visitors to America and American visitors 
to England should be careful to avoid words which scorch and 
stab. The mischief-workers are numerous on both sides of the 
Atlantic, and because their number is legion the continuous 
work of men of good will is urgent. 


The unfriendly feeling in the United States to England is not 
due to the fact that in the eighteenth century we had a slight 
altercation with an English king, but because sundry English 
men in our own generation have been snobbish, heating our 
blood by the things they have said and written. The dislike of 
America which is prevalent in certain circles in England is not 
due to the fact that the United States refused to remain a British 
colony, but because of the exasperating things which individual 
Americans have said and done either in England or on their 
return home. 


Here, then, is a sizeable piece of work cut out for our generation. 
The first thing essential is that we shall get our eyes squarely 
fixed on the work, and gird up our loins and go at it. It is not a 
work which will do itself. World peace is not going to come by 
chance. War will not be abolished by wishes or prayers or 
resolutions. The world will be delivered from the greatest of 
all scourges only by the concentrated efforts of determined and 
resolute men who realize that the continued existence of our 
present civilization hangs on the success of their labors. We 
must get into a better humor. Good intentions are not a match 
for bad tempers. No matter how good the motives, offensive 
speech always causes trouble. The world must have a new 
purpose and a new spirit. There must be a new public opinion. 
Public opinion must not be divided by the Atlantic Ocean, and 
opinion in English-speaking countries should not be uncertain. 
For the creation of public opinion every man is responsible. 
In bygone days there have been frequent military and naval 
conversations. The time has arrived for continuous conver 
sations on peace. 

A wise Englishman once remarked that a man ought to keep 
his friendships in repair. That is what nations ought to do. 
International friendships wear out and must be renewed. The 
wear and tear of international life are constant and severe, and 
international good will is always becoming frayed and weakened. 
Huge corps of peace lovers on both sides of the Atlantic should 


work unceasingly to keep our international friendships fresh and 
strong. The reduction of armaments is a pressing problem and 
many noble men are working at it. The work is slow and disap 
pointing. Dreadnaughts and cruisers are icebergs which have 
drifted down to us out of an age of international ice. They can 
not be broken to pieces by sledge hammers wielded by the 
brawny arms of stalwart statesmen. They will be melted in the 
sunshine of a warmer clime. The atmosphere is yet too frigid 
for the work of the League of Nations to run and be glorified. 
The world must have a warmer heart. 

But no matter by what method we work, progress must in 
evitably be slow. Patience is a virtue indispensable to all men 
who work at gigantic tasks. England must be patient with us 
and we must be patient with England. Under democracy un 
expected and disappointing things are constantly happening. 
Groups of politicians sometimes get into power and tie the 
threads of the world's life into a hard knot. Later on another 
group will sit in the seats of the mighty and the knot will be 
untied. Strong men do not repine because of delays. What 
ought to be, will some day come. The thing for us to do is to 
work. We must all work. There should be no slackers in this 
great campaign for peace. They tell us that in the next war 
there will be no noncombatants. The aged as well as the young, 
the women as well as the men, all ages and all classes and both 
sexes, will be mobilized; no one will be left out. No one should 
be left out now. Women as well as men should take a foremost 
place in creating this new international atmosphere, and from 
the youngest to the oldest there should be found no recreant 
heart, every one doing what he can to establish a peace which 
will endure forever. 

In his autobiography, Twenty-five Years, Viscount Grey sums 
up in a sentence his conclusion to this whole matter. He pro 
pounds the question, "Can war be avoided, and if so what are 
the means to that end?" His answer is so simple there is 
danger it may be overlooked. He says, "The most effective 
change would be that nations should dislike each other a little 
less and like each other a little more." 




THE Panama Canal has more than proved its worth as an 
artery of commercial transportation. The western transconti 
nental railroads serve a large and an increasingly populous terri 
tory, one which was developed by adequate rail transportation 
and which today is even more dependent upon that facility than 
it ever was before. The canal is a Government owned and oper 
ated agency while the railroads are privately owned and Govern 
ment regulated utilities. Through the Government owned canal 
ships move carrying such cargoes as they desire to, at such rates 
as they may care to charge, while over the supposedly privately 
managed railways, traffic of any type must be hauled at rates 
fixed by a Government commission. To top the climax of this 
paradoxical situation, the rail carriers are at present actually for 
bidden to lower their rates to coastal cities in order to participate 
in a portion of the transcontinental traffic! 

Before the Panama Canal was opened to shipping, the western 
roads had built up a lucrative business in the carriage of the mill 
products of the East to the western country and in hauling the 
heavy tonnage of lumber, fruits, wool and other commodities of 
the West to their point of consumption or manufacture in the 
East. The traffic may safely be said to have been developed be 
cause of the adequate rail transportation which was available. 
With the exception of the cities on the Pacific coast, which could 
avail themselves of the long route around Cape Horn or across 
Tehuantepec, the West was dependent upon its railways for its 
prosperity. Whatever may have been the shortcomings of these 
roads in their financing, construction and operation, one fact 
remains conspicuously to their credit they tied together the far 
flung sections of the East and West in an indissoluble bond. 
"The tie that binds is the railroad tie," it is said; and the 
pioneer work of the promoters of western railways supplied not 


only the tie but the necessary cars, engines, bridges and other 

Then came the Panama Canal. Constructed and maintained 
out of public moneys, to the extent of $463,000,000 according to 
the report for the fiscal year 1924, it was opened to traffic in 1914, 
and the railroads faced a new competitor, more formidable than 
any they had hitherto encountered. Mountains had been 
pierced, roaring streams bridged or diverted from their courses, 
the battle with the elements had been fought and won by the 
railroads, but the deep water competition which Nature, aug 
mented by man in the shape of Stevens and Goethals, had placed 
against them, was a factor which they could not successfully 

Without its railways which it had in turn promoted and 
exploited, hated and praised, enriched itself by and then over- 
regulated, the West could not have grown into the fine, pros 
perous country which it is today. Had it not been for the steel 
highways, the ore of Montana, the coal and silver of Colorado, the 
wool of Arizona and the cattle of Wyoming would hardly have 
reached their eastern markets in any appreciable volume. Lost 
would be the tourist's tread upon the beautiful streets of Salt 
Lake, or around the brim of the Grand Canyon, had not the rail 
ways made quick and easy the means of transportation. Of 
little value to their owners would be the apple orchards of Oregon, 
the vineyards of Southern California or the vast sweeps of cattle 
ranges of Texas, if the means of marketing the products of these 
regions had not been provided. 

To these shipping points, the railways still are either the only, 
or at any rate, the best means of transportation. To the coastal 
cities, the Panama Canal has been a blessing; to the interior, its 
advantages diminish in proportion to the distance from seaboard. 
To reconcile the divergent ambitions of various sections for it is 
indeed a national problem is a matter commanding the best 
thought not only of railroad men but of bankers, economists, 
business men, and even college professors, whose point of view, 
although academic, is often based on a more careful and impartial 
analysis of the facts than is possible to those more intimately in 


If the railroad is still a necessary adjunct to industry in the 
East, it is an indispensible utility in the West, for the Western 
States can neither consume their products of greatest volume and 
value nor manufacture or grow many of the necessities which the 
railways bring to them. But the need is mutual. The railroads 
must have the traffic which produces earnings just as much as the 
States which they serve must have transportation. The present 
attitude of the railways toward the Panama Canal is not one of 
destroying a competitor, but rather of saving themselves. An 
empty car earns no revenue, and unless it is productive of revenue 
it is a distinct liability. It is like a mortgage the charges must 
be met even though the house stands idle. 

One can talk to the chief executives of these western railways, 
particularly those in charge of the northwestern railways which 
appear to be in the most unfortunate situation, and hear no word 
of complaint about the canal as a means of transportation. Its 
value to the nation is frankly admitted. It is not the Panama 
Canal itself to which they take exception. Rather do they view 
the question from the point of view of the alleged injustice which 
they feel is being done to their properties, and through this to the 
territories which they serve, in the Government's providing a 
$450,000,000 facility and permitting steamship lines to use it with 
no supervision over their rates and practices, while at the same 
time exercising a rigid supervision over rail charges. 

If the canal has proved a blessing to the seacoast cities on the 
Atlantic and the Pacific, it has been a boomerang to those in the 
interior on both sides of the continent. Manufacturing estab 
lishments which have grown through a half century of develop 
ment into thriving industries in our Middle Western States, 
employing thousands of men and marketing their product almost 
with equal facility in California and in Maine, are suddenly 
brought face to face with a condition which threatens their lucra 
tive markets. Where in former years, by reason of identical 
rail rates, the manufacturers in St. Louis and Philadelphia sold 
their goods in San Francisco on an equal basis, the Philadelphia 
manufacturer today is reaping the benefits of his geographical 
location. The closer actual proximity of the St. Louis merchant 
today is really a penalty, for the greater the distance from sea- 


board, the higher his costs of transportation are and the more 
difficult it is for him to compete. 

It is not a theory which is facing the manufacturers of the 
Middle West, but an actual condition. It is a situation fraught 
with many potentialities affecting the entire Mississippi Valley. 
One large manufacturer has met it by moving his plant from 
Chicago to Bridgeport. The Middle West manufacturer may, of 
course, ship his goods to New York by rail to take advantage of 
the cheaper water rates; but even so, the rail rate to seaboard 
represents the added cost of the goods to the California purchaser, 
and in these days of highly competitive markets, the added cost is 
an important element in the sale of goods. 

Into a long established routine of selling, the injection of water 
transportation with rates ranging from one-half to one-third of 
the all rail rates has led many merchants to investigate the possi 
bilities of removing to the East. While a general movement of 
this sort may be discounted on the broad grounds that the ma 
jority of manufacturers do not market their product in the Far 
West exclusively, it is none the less evident that if the Pacific 
Coast is to be served by eastern merchants using the Panama 
Canal, the western railroads are going to lose an increasing vol 
ume of through freight. Further, the westbound traffic from 
both eastern and mid-western mills is exactly the freight which 
they can least afford to lose. Moving generally in carload lots, 
paying a higher rate than most commodities, of a character which 
makes it possible to employ the refrigerator cars which have 
brought fruits east in which to handle this westbound tonnage, 
the loss of it runs well into the millions of dollars annually. 

Every 50,000 tons of traffic which is diverted from the rail lines 
to the canal, involves a loss of $1,000,000 in railroad revenues. 
Even though a cheaper rate may give the East a temporary ad 
vantage, our social structure is so closely interwoven today that 
no section can gain a permanent advantage through the mis 
fortune of another, nor can we view with urbanity any arbitrary 
changes in the manufacturing, selling and transportation prac 
tices of a large and prosperous region. 

The water competition did not become acute until after the 
War. If the condition were merely that of a new and superior 


form of transportation replacing an older and obsolete method, 
the plight of the railroads would afford small grief to most per 
sons. Unfortunately, this is not the case. Leaving aside the 
basic economic factors confronting the western roads, there is 
still the underlying principle of the "long and short haul", which 
allows lower rates to more distant points, when the shorter dis 
tance is included in the longer, to meet water competition. 
While there are no such "violations" of the Fourth Section (the 
long and short haul clause) in the Far West now, a bill is neverthe 
less pending for the complete revocation of such possible rates. 
The principle involved is of the greatest interest and importance 
to New England and other sections as well as to the West. 

The popular practice heretofore has been to regulate the rail 
ways. The coming phase apparently will be that of protecting 
them. No more significant action has been taken than that of 
the National Association of Public Utility Commissioners of 
forty -seven States, which passed a resolution urging government 
regulation of water rates through the Panama Canal. The step 
was taken not so much to coddle the railways as to defend ship 
pers in many sections from unfair rate discriminations. 

Yet a further complication arises in any thought of reducing 
transcontinental rates to coastal points while still holding the 
rates at their present level at interior places. The railroads still 
haul a considerable volume of through freight. If the rates were 
reduced as a "bait" to attract business now moving by water, the 
shippers now paying the present all rail rate because of the faster 
service would receive an unsolicited reduction. This would be a 
loss to the railways which, to an extent at present indeterminable, 
would partly offset the increased earnings by their obtaining some 
of the present canal business. 

The principle of the low rate for a longer than a shorter haul is 
sound and is employed in many other sections. It benefits New 
England immeasurably in a part of its shipments to the South 
east. It likewise may be assumed to offer the means of helping 
the western roads, if rates so based were permitted, but it raises a 
broad question which has far reaching effects. 

Admitting that water transportation is far more economical 
than rail, are we to penalize the rail lines by refusing them per- 

VOL. ccxxiv. NO. 834 3 


mission to compete with the water lines? If we are to refuse this 
permission, will the rail traffic to the interior points provide ade 
quate revenues to furnish new facilities and to attract new 
capital? Is it fair to penalize the Mississippi Valley in order to 
encourage intercoastal water transport, even admitting its bene 
fits to the coastal cities? 

To attract new capital to an expanding business, thereby mak 
ing possible necessary expansions and improvements to handle 
better the traffic offered, rates must be such as to yield a modest 
return on the investment. It is easy to say that the Government 
can take over the roads and settle the entire rail question, includ 
ing that of the western lines, but such an opinion differs from that 
of all business men who use the railroads and pay for their upkeep 
through the charges on freight and passengers carried. And at 
best it evades, or conceals, the self-evident fact that no matter 
who operates the railways, they must continue to run. If the 
Government managed them their cost of operation would be 
spread out in taxes among a very much larger proportion of the 
population than is now the case when the operating expenses are 
borne by those who use them most, both for their freight and their 
own travels. 

It is not to be disputed that freight charges are in the end 
passed on to the consumer, and in this way, by a stretch of the 
imagination, Government operation with taxes to meet rail 
deficits amounts to somewhat the same thing in the long run. 
But with the example of the Canadian nationalized system deep 
in debt, together with the spectacle of the United States Govern 
ment dropping approximately $40,000,000 a year in an attempt 
to manage steamships, the Government ownership panacea has 
lost all but its most biased advocates. Politics in business 
does not work as successfully in practice as in theory. And 
so the solution of the railway question in the West must be 
met in a straightforward, American manner, viewing the question 
on its merits, considering the many divergent and far-reaching 
interests involved, and solving it on the self evident presumption 
that the railways serve a much larger proportion of the population 
than do the water lines, and as such are deserving of prior con 


It has passed the point of being a railroad question or even a 
local problem. It is a national one, involving as it does the needs 
both of shippers dependent on these railroads and of the security 
holders who own them. To paint a pessimistic picture of the 
railroads' plight is but to portray in a brighter hue the unques 
tioned value of Uncle Sam's $450,000,000 ditch in so far as 
it affects those of our population who reside on the seacoast. 
Somewhere a line must be drawn, reconciling on the one 
hand the railways and the thousands of persons who have no 
other means of transportation, and on the other the seaboard 
manufacturers and the steamship lines who have benefitted by 
the half -billion investment of the Government. If the railways 
may be said to have enjoyed a monopoly prior to the opening of 
the canal (albeit it was a Government regulated one) and the 
intercoastal water lines are now furnishing a competition which is 
disastrous to the rail carriers, the question facing us the Inter 
state Commerce Commission immediately, but the nation at 
large ultimately is a broad one. That a line of justice exists is 
obvious. To find it seems less easy. 

An interesting avocation of the alert newspaper man is the 
keeping of a private "morgue" or series of clippings filed in spe 
cial envelopes containing data upon all subjects to which he may 
have occasion to refer at a later date. After accumulating such a 
set upon a given public question over a period of months, or years, 
it is an illuminating sidelight upon the general trend of public 
opinion to compare these. With the exception of the propaganda 
emanating from points in the "Inter-Mountain Rate Territory", 
notably Spokane and Salt Lake, it is evident that many business 
men (we can properly exclude the railroad officer, who naturally 
is biased) are deeply concerned in this general question. The 
two cities above named are jealous at what they term "unfair 
discrimination" which would be enjoyed by coastal cities by 
acceptance of the proposition that lower rail rates be made to 
coastal points in order that the railroads may partly compete 
with the water lines. Obviously, being removed from seaboard, 
the inland cities suffer the natural disadvantage of geographical 
location, but the "long and short haul" clause is a thorn to them. 
Of which, more presently. 


Referring again to the clippings, we find that under present 
conditions, a certain type of traffic pays a dollar a hundred 
pounds from New York to the Pacific Coast by water while the 
rail rate from Kansas City 1500 miles nearer is $2.05. Yet 
the Interstate Commerce Commission refuses to allow the trans 
continental roads to lower their rates to coastal cities to meet this 

It is against this purpose of charging less at points which enjoy 
water transportation that the Spokane group objects, and to pre 
vent it, Senator Gooding of Idaho secured the passage of a bill in 
the Senate to revise the Fourth Section of the Interstate Com 
merce Act which gave this permission. Had not business inter 
ests opposed its passage in the House, the bill might have been 
enacted to the great detriment of New England and New York 
manufacturers who profit by such practices on much of their 
traffic to the South. 

Both Spokane and contiguous territory such as Idaho are more 
thoroughly dependent upon adequate rail transportation than 
any other section of the United States. Nevertheless they seek 
to deprive the carriers of a chance to pick up a small additional 
revenue by carrying such transcontinental traffic as they can at 
low rates, admittedly not remunerative, to coastal points in order 
to fill cars which otherwise would be sent west; without loads. At 
present, three loaded cars move east to one load west. If the 
westbound empty cars (which must be moved at a cost of about 
five cents a mile, often plus per diem of a dollar a day for use of 
other roads' cars) can carry some traffic, they at least will pay the 
cost of fuel and wages and thereby help to increase the revenues 
of the western carriers to the obvious advantage of the territory 
dependent upon them. 

Do the cities in the interior appreciate this fact? Emphati 
cally they do not. All that they can see in the proposal is the 
transportation of goods to their doors at perhaps a dollar and a 
half a hundred pounds while the same merchandise is carried 
four hundred miles further possibly for only a dollar. And yet if 
the interior cities shipped by water to Seattle, for instance, and 
then inland by rail, their combined freight charge would be the 
same. The very fact that they are removed from the coast acts 


as an arbitrary and automatic discrimination against them im 
posed by their founders. What then do the clippings show is 
their attitude? 

I quote from a New York paper a statement attributed to the 
general manager of a very active rate association in the West: 
"Total merchandise traffic through the Panama Canal amounted 
to about 5,000,000 tons in 1924, as compared with 627,000,000 
tons of freight carried by Class I roads of the western district." 
The ton-mile factor indisputably the only gauge of traffic 
density and volume is adroitly overlooked. The fact that 
many tons of this 600,000,000 might only have been moved a 
hundred miles against the two thousand mile loss to the western 
lines alone on the transcontinental freight carried by water, is not 
even taken into account in this argument. Because of which, it 
is condemned without further reasoning, as being built on a 
fallacious basis. 

Numerous business men in the Middle West, at meetings held 
under the auspices of the United States Chamber of Commerce, 
have considered the problem, not from the standpoint of helping 
the railroads merely from sentiment, but because they must be 
allowed to earn a certain net if they are adequately to carry the 
nation's business. Further, it is to the interests of the Middle 
West to protect its own markets on the coast from encroachments 
of eastern manufacturers who are aided by what amounts to 
subsidized competition. 

The Panama Canal, representing as it does an investment in 
capital account and subsequent maintenance of more than $450,- 
000,000, showed a handsome "profit" last year. The figures are 
arrived at, generally speaking, by deducting the operating costs 
from the revenues. No taxes, of course, are paid or even theo 
retically charged, nor is it evident, from the annual report that 
the interest on bonds is charged against the earnings of the Canal. 
Capital cost is being enlarged annually at the rate of $250,000, 
representing payments to the Republic of Panama for "right of 
way"; apparently an operating cost although not so charged. 

Ship lines operating through the Government owned canal are 
protected by the laws which restrict the United States inter- 
coastal traffic to ships under the American flag. Beyond collect- 


ing tolls, however, the Government is not interested in them. 
They may make such rates as they desire, or fix their charges by 
"conference" agreement, and unlike common carriers, are not 
obliged to accept unremunerative traffic. 

During the calendar year 1924 (and the figures for the year 
1925 do not differ materially) these lines carried approximately 
5,275,000 short tons of merchandise freight, in addition to 
the oil traffic. The eastbound business predominated. These 
figures do not include the foreign business, a portion of which 
also formerly moved by rail. Had all of this traffic been 
handled by the railroads from coast to coast at the modest aver 
age of twenty dollars a ton, or one dollar a hundred pounds, the 
earnings of the western railways would have been enhanced by 
many millions of dollars. Of course, a portion of this freight al 
ways moved by water, either across Tehuantepec or around the 
Horn, although offsetting this, is a volume of foreign business 
formerly carried across the United States but which now moves 
direct to destination by water. 

About half of the straight merchandise intercoastal traffic was 
to and from North Pacific Coast ports. Suppose the hypotheti 
cal figure produced by multiplying this tonnage by $20 had been 
distributed evenly among these railroads. A $10,000,000 in 
crease alone would have been a substantial asset to each of the 
northwestern carriers, for a large part of it would have been net. 
The addition of the revenue from westbound freight alone would 
have been a material aid, filling as it would a portion of the now 
empty cars. In 1924, 44.5 per cent, of the westbound car mileage 
was empty, and the western roads as a whole suffered a loss of 
1,000,000,000 ton-miles under the 1923 figures. It is reasonable 
to assume that part of this went through the canal, although a 
substantial part was due to a smaller volume of business in 
general. Nevertheless, the ton-miles handled by the carriers in 
the Northwest increased only three per cent, in nine years ending 
1924, it was recently shown by H. M. Sperry, an analyst of the 
situation, compared with a fourteen per cent, increase for the 
United States as a whole, and twenty-one per cent, for all the 
western carriers. 

Higher rail rates, at least to coastal points, are not a solution, 


for a higher rate would drive more freight to the water lines, not 
only between seaport cities, but also to and from those located as 
far inland as the combination of water and inland rail rate re 
mained lower than the straight all rail charge. Even now, the 
rail lines are penalized by not being permitted to make lower rates 
to the strictly coastal points. The charge on cotton piece goods, 
for instance, from New York to San Francisco is $1.875 a hun 
dred pounds by rail against seventy-five cents by water. East- 
bound, wool in bags moves at a rate of $1.50 by water from Los 
Angeles to New York, against $2.70 by rail. Obviously, with 
discrepancies such as these, not only the western railways but the 
mid-west manufacturers, whose rates either all rail to the coast, 
or rail and water via an eastern port, are proportionately higher, 
are being severely penalized. Whether the word "discrimina 
tion" is justified is perhaps a matter of personal opinion, but it is 
safe to say that the situation is one which must be faced and ad 
justed in the interests of a large portion of our population. 

The matter of lower rail rates to more distant than to shorter 
points, where the shorter distance is included in the longer, is a 
matter of economic justice, warranted by conditions of trade and 
production, eminently fair to all concerned, approved by the vast 
majority, and, finally, of inestimable value and need to our 
western carriers. It is in the interests of those residing in sections 
somewhat removed from the Pacific Coast also to approve this, 
for adequate rail transportation is vital to them. If the railroads 
are to be penalized at coastal points, to and from which they 
might under different circumstances handle a volume of business, 
the improved facilities needed to care for an expanding traffic at 
interior points cannot be provided out of diminished earnings. 
The railroads seek a rate not so low that it will meet the water 
charges but rather one which will come within striking distance of 
them. Through faster rail service, with resultant lower interest 
charges to shippers and shorter intervals in which capital and 
goods are tied up in transit, they reckon that they can compete 
on fairly even terms with the water carriers. Obviously, they 
cannot regain all the water-borne traffic, nor is it right that the 
water lines should be deprived of their business, but even a small 
portion of it would be a substantial benefit to the railroads. 


That our shipping industry needs encouragement and a fair 
measure of protection, no patriotic American can deny. Just 
where the line is to be drawn to afford this relief to the railways 
and at the same time assist the ships flying the American flag, is a 
question easier to propound than to solve. 

No sooner had the Public Utility Commissioners advocated 
placing the intercoastal water carriers under the regulatory 
powers of the Interstate Commerce Commission, than the Mer 
chants' Association of New York made an emphatic protest that 
the underlying motive of this was to raise the water charges, 
which would thereby penalize New York and other seaboard 
points. That the Commission has "managed" the railroads sat 
isfactorily is becoming generally admitted, and with this as a 
background, much more may be heard of the proposition to place 
the water lines under its supervision. That the rail lines the 
indispensible units of transportation require some measure of 
protection, grows increasingly apparent. But that the shipping 
industry must also be considered is self-evident. 

The solution of this perplexing problem is a challenge to busi 
ness and transportation which cannot long be evaded. 



DURING the last two years the American public has heard a 
great deal more about the rubber industry than in all the pre 
ceding eighty -five years since Goodyear's discovery of vulcaniza 
tion opened up the possibility of the wider application of rubber 
for the benefit of mankind. Much that was printed during 1925 
presented a one-sided and misleading picture, but enough of the 
British side of the case has seen the light to give assurance that 
calmer and fairer opinions now prevail; and this paper furnishes 
an opportunity to attempt to analyze where mistakes have been 
made in the past, with a view to helping so far as possible to pre 
vent their recurrence. 

The ups and downs of rubber present an interesting study in 
human nature. Originally supplies were extracted from wild 
trees scattered throughout the tropical zone in somewhat inac 
cessible regions, and if the world today were dependent on them 
we would have to be content with only a fraction of what annually 
comes to market as the result of the initiation and development of 
the plantation rubber industry. It is exactly fifty years since 
the first steps were taken on behalf of the Government of India to 
experiment in tropical Asia in the growing of the types of rubber 
tree indigenous to South America and Africa. Of the many varie 
ties tried, only the Heves Braziliensis was ultimately proved 
capable of practical large scale exploitation in plantations. Some 
twenty-five years elapsed, however, between the beginning of 
these experiments and the appreciation of the desirability of 
actually developing rubber plantations on a large scale. It was 
a dispensation of Providence that this move coincided with the 
development of the internal combustion engine, which led to the 
enormous expansion of the use of automobiles, for it is a fact 
that the simultaneous development of these two great industries 
was not in any way coordinated. 


In 1910 the demand for rubber suddenly exceeded the available 
supply, and although by that time those interested in the open 
ing up of plantations did associate directly their future with the 
expanding use of the automobile, which was particularly in 
evidence in the United States, it required a spectacular rise in the 
price of rubber to three dollars a pound to give rapid momentum 
to the extension of the area under plantation rubber. In that 
year a large amount of British capital was diverted to this in 
dustry because of the large profits which the few producing es 
tates then existing were able to show. Having been in the thick of 
it, I may fairly describe this "boom" as a period of frenzy, during 
which people temporarily lost their heads. I wish to draw par 
ticular attention to that outburst of human excitement, because 
I shall have occasion to refer to a somewhat similar phase which 
occurred during the year 1925. In my opinion both these occur 
rences were necessary in order to bring home to people what, 
under calmer circumstances, they would most probably have failed 
to appreciate until too late. 

The rubber tree takes some six or seven years to reach an age 
at which it can be profitably tapped, a long time for the individ 
ual in our generation, but a very short time in the development of 
civilization. Under modern conditions those who are actively 
engaged in commercial or industrial pursuits are so preoccupied 
in dealing with the daily problems which present themselves 
that few have the time or feel the necessity to think very far ahead. 
The whole business world is in a state of rapid flux. What is 
deemed to be true today is doubted tomorrow, and emotions 
govern men's actions to a much greater degree than calm deliber 
ation. Perhaps it is best that the majority should be so swayed. 
Progress involves the taking of risks, and if the majority were 
all cautiously deliberate the world would advance but slowly. 
In the nature of things, however, rapid forward movements are 
generally carried too far, and are followed by a reaction which 
lasts until the actual rate of progress is equal to the average of the 
forward movement and the reaction combined. 

The rubber industry is a conspicuous example of this, but it 
differs fundamentally from most others in that a rapid forward 
movement in the planting of rubber estates does not make itself 


felt in increased supplies of crude rubber until some six to seven 
years after the planting has been done. The "boom" planting 
of 1910-11 was thus making itself felt appreciably toward the end 
of the War period, but the extraordinary development of auto 
mobile transporation, which was undoubtedly speeded up by 
the increased productive activity which the War occasioned, par 
ticularly in the United States, eased materially the consequence 
of the planting of rubber in 1910-12. The abnormal activity of 
1919 tended further to obscure the difficulties which were immi 
nent, and although the ensuing slump of 1920 indicated them, the 
true position did not come fully to light until 1921 and 1922, when 
there was a very rapid accumulation of unwanted stocks of rub 
ber. Had tire manufacturers continued to build fabric tires, 
giving service of only four thousand to five thousand miles, the 
world could have absorbed again the available supplies of rubber, 
once the effect of the slump in 1920 had passed away. The much 
improved cord tire had, however, then been evolved, giving at 
least twice the mileage of the fabric tire, which itself had been im 
proved by more scientific manufacturing processes. The position 
of the rubber producers thus became most critical, because their 
actual and potential production was largely in excess of the 
weight of rubber required to equip and keep the automobiles of the 
world running, approximately eighty per cent, of the total world 
consumption of rubber being put to this one use. The aver 
age price of crude rubber in the years 1914 to 1919 was roughly 
sixty cents a pound. In 1920 the price fell as low as twenty 
cents. For the whole of 1921 the average price was only twenty- 
one cents, with a low point of eighteen cents, and the average 
price during 1922 was nineteen cents, with a low point of fourteen 
cents. Although the plantations had, during this time, gradually 
succeeded in reducing their cost of production, the industry was 
working at a dead loss during two whole years, and, notwithstand 
ing voluntary curtailment of output, world stocks of unwanted 
rubber continued to increase at a rapid rate, and many producers 
were forced to suspend operations. 

The protracted duration of this depression was leading to de 
moralization, and it was the bounden duty of the British Govern 
ment, under whose flag two-thirds of the rubber plantations had 


been developed, to help this important primary industry to pre 
serve intact its productive capacity. The trained labor forces on 
the estates had been recruited from distant countries, and their 
impending repatriation on a large scale would have thrown out of 
gear the whole mechanism of production for a long time. On 
tropical estates neglect of upkeep means the rapid encroachment 
of rank vegetation, and the subsequent reclamation of estates 
which had been abandoned would have been possible only at 
heavy cost, after the price of rubber had been for some time at a 
figure high enough to warrant the necessary outlay. In fact 
there would have been a wanton sacrifice of many years' laborious 
human effort, and of one of the best achievements of our generation. 

Fortunately, action was taken before it was too late, not merely 
in the interest of producers, but for the benefit of the whole world, 
which depends on this industry for regular supplies of this essen 
tial raw material. The "Stevenson plan", intended to coordi 
nate supplies and prices, was then adopted, and it was entirely in 
harmony with the economic law of supply and demand, inasmuch 
as it provided that unless the users of rubber were prepared to 
pay in the open market a price for the commodity sufficient to 
keep the plantation industry in a solvent condition, supplies of 
new rubber would be withheld on a graduated scale. The human 
factor came into play soon after legislation to this effect had 
become operative in Malaya and Ceylon in November, 1922. 
Manufacturers in the United States were very optimistic about the 
rapid increase in their need of rubber, and as a member of a dele 
gation from the Rubber Growers' Association in London to the 
Rubber Association of America I spent some time while there en 
deavoring to convince manufacturers that under the Stevenson 
plan there would be sufficient rubber to satisfy their require 
ments, provided they saw to it that the price was kept above 
the pivotal price of thirty to thirty -six cents on which additional 
export releases depended. 

The agitation in America at that time was the direct cause of 
encouraging substantial buying of rubber by speculators, who un 
loaded later in the year at a heavy loss to themselves and to those 
same manufacturers who, in the early part of 1923, were so con 
cerned about an imminent shortage. When the manufacturers 


found, as we had told them, that there was no difficulty in buying 
all the rubber they needed, they virtually forgot all about the 
Stevenson scheme and their obligations under it; the fact being 
that as long as a commodity can be bought easily, the future is 
left to take care of itself. In the face of a steady diminution in 
world stocks of crude rubber, the average price in the three months 
of May, June and July, 1924, was less than twenty -two cents a 
pound, and the origin of the subsequent high price in 1925 must 
be attributed directly to insufficient buying during the second 
half of 1924. Even in January, 1925, manufacturers failed to 
protect their own interests by keener buying to ensure the maxi 
mum release. A contributory reason for this error of judgment 
is to be found in the policy of hand-to-mouth buying, which has 
been so strongly encouraged by American bankers, and it is ob 
vious that such a policy, while minimizing risks in one direction, 
opens up the possibility of trouble in others. 

In these days of speculation it is bad business to attempt by 
public agitation to undo the consequences of a wrong buying 
policy, as that is a direct inducement to speculators to come into 
the market on the "bull" side. It is now established beyond 
question that the extreme agitation about rubber during 1925 had 
the effect of encouraging tire dealers and automobilists to believe 
that tires must continue to advance in price, and to buy in excess 
of immediate requirements, thus further accentuating the de 
mand on the available supplies of rubber. A reaction was bound 
to come, but I venture to assert that much less harm would have 
been done if there had been no such publicity. 

In the course of 1926 world stocks of crude rubber increased to 
a figure which is more in keeping with the needs of the industry, 
but there has recently been a growing tendency to view these 
stocks as a burden instead of a boon. All those who have the 
welfare of the rubber and automobile industries at heart must, 
however, hail as a step in the right direction the establishment of 
a substantial fund of American capital to be used for the carrying 
of a "cushion" stock of rubber, which, if handled with discretion, 
should tend to eliminate some of the fluctuations in prices which 
are so detrimental to the best interests of the industry and of the 
consuming public. The Stevenson plan was explicitly designed 


to put into the hands of the buyers the power of attaining greater 
stability in market prices. The opportunities it afforded were 
not sufficiently appreciated, but it is sincerely to be hoped that 
the lessons of the last two years have been learned, and that the 
"cushion" stock will be administered with sound judgment, 
taking a long view and not a short one. 

It is well that the automotive industry is associated with the 
rubber manufacturers in this important project, because the first- 
named is really part of the rubber industry in its large sense. 
Serious mistakes in the handling of the situation from time to 
time can be averted only if all component parts of the industry 
are reasonably well informed in regard to the salient factors which 
govern demand as well as supply. The acute depression which 
has overtaken the sugar and cotton producing industries as a 
result of over-production is a reminder that the economic system 
of the world is still far from perfect. "Stability" in commodity 
values is at best only a relative term, and whereas in the case of 
crops, which are the result of annual or biennial planting, over 
production can be corrected in the course of one or at most two 
seasons, there is naturally much greater difficulty in adjusting 
supply to demand in the case of rubber, where six or seven years 
elapse after planting before you get any appreciable crop, and ten 
years before the trees are really at capacity. 

It is essential to this industry, therefore, that long views shall 
be taken, and these necessarily involve large amounts of capital. 
The record of the rubber manufacturing companies, owing to 
excessively keen competition, is one of small profit margins, but 
all the time the users of tires have been amazingly well served, 
and today tire mileage is one of the cheapest of commodities. 
Larger stocks of ready rubber should be accumulated and carried 
to provide for further expansion of the industry, which can be 
confidently predicted at any rate in the rest of the world, apart 
from the United States of America. 




CANTON, long a retreat of "pink" idealists and "red" mounte 
banks, of honest patriots and scheming fire-eaters, has startled the 
world, much as a thunderclap out of the blue, by a sudden and 
unexpected sortie into the rich Yangtse Valley five hundred miles 
away. Its repercussion has been immediate and far reaching, as 
the Yangtse is the greatest artery of international trade in China, 
with enormous foreign, especially British, capital invested in the 
vast territory along its course. So profound has been the im 
pression made upon the Powers by the spectacular military suc 
cesses of the Cantonese expedition that they have been compelled 
to readjust their attitude toward a Government which they have 
for years denounced as Bolshevik or at best ridiculed as a castle 
in the air. 

Canton's hostility toward Peking goes back to the very begin 
ning of the Republic, when Yuan Shi-kai, leader of the northern 
militarists, snatched the fruits of the revolution from the hands 
of Dr. Sun Yat-sen, idol of the Cantonese and the logical man to 
be the first President of China. Toward the end of 1911, when 
the revolution was still aflame on the Yangtse, the Provisional 
Assembly at Nanking acclaimed Dr. Sun as President. At the 
same time Yuan Shi-kai, shrewd, ambitious, heir to the imperial 
traditions of the Manchu dynasty, was firmly ensconced at Pe 
king and showed no intention of relinquishing his power. It was 
a far cry from Nanking to Peking, and the revolutionists, mili 
tarily unorganized and financially exhausted, could not follow up 
their initial victory with an expedition to the northern capital. 
They knew that unless Yuan was won over to their side by some 
peaceful means the country could not be unified. In the interest 
of national welfare, Dr. Sun resigned the Presidency and offered 
the honor to Yuan Shi-kai, who accepted it with alacrity, if with 
feigned modesty. As a safeguard against Yuan's imperialistic 


aspirations the Republicans proposed that Nanking be made the 
seat of the new Government, and that the President-elect take 
office there instead of at Peking. The reason was obvious. 
Nanking was the centre of the revolutionary movement, Peking 
the haunts of imperialism. Could Yuan Shi-kai only be per 
suaded to come to Nanking, his dictatorial ambitions, the Repub 
licans believed, would be curbed. But Yuan proved more than 
their equal in strategy. He declined to budge, and inaugurated 
himself as President at Peking in March, 1912. Defeated in 
their first manoeuvres, Dr. Sun and his followers devised a second 
line of defense in the shape of a Constitution conceived to fore 
stall the arbitrary measures which they knew Yuan would adopt. 
The Constitution conferred upon the Legislature power to elect 
President and Vice-President, to approve or reject foreign treaties 
and foreign loans, to pass upon the appointment or dismissal of 
Cabinet officials made by the President, and to impeach the 
President. The resourceful Yuan was fully aware of the motives 
of such provisions, and accepted the Constitution with no inten 
tion of observing it. 

The upshot of it all was that Dr. Sun, his Nationalist Party, 
and the Constitution were reduced to nonentity at Yuan's hands. 
Again Dr. Sun took to the path of revolution, keenly conscious of 
the blunder he had committed in compromising with Yuan 
Shi-kai. In 1913 and 1915 his followers made unsuccessful at 
tempts to start uprisings in the South. When President Yuan 
died in June, 1916, the long-awaited opportunity of the National 
ists seemed at last to have come. Dr. Sun, with a fleet of war 
ships whose commanders were in sympathy with him, left Shang 
hai that summer and organized at Canton a Government of his 
own a Government which for ten years stood its ground against 
the intermittent assaults of the northern militarists. 

From Canton's point of view, therefore, the revolution which 
started in the winter of 1911 is not yet ended. It regards as a 
usurper whatever Government is set up at Peking under the pro 
tection of this or that militarist. It does not recognize foreign 
treaties and obligations contracted by such governments. Even 
the International Tariff Conference, for which the United States 
was largely responsible, Canton looked upon as a gratuitous un- 


dertaking calculated to benefit only the self-seeking war lords and 
their puppet politicians. To toll the knell of that conference 
was, indeed, one of the chief purposes of the present Cantonese 
expedition into the Yangtse regions. The onslaught commenced 
last July when the phantom cabinet improvized at Peking by 
Generals Wu Pei-fu and Chang Tso-lin was moving heaven and 
earth to persuade the Powers to reopen the tariff conference 
which had adjourned without results because the Government 
which called the parley had ceased to function. The Nationalists 
at Canton, opposed to the conference from the beginning, im 
mediately assumed the offensive and launched a vigorous assault 
upon the forces of Wu Pei-fu, five hundred miles from Canton. 
They hoped that the Powers, taking cognizance of their demon 
strated puissance, would recall from Peking their respective 
delegations to the tariff conference. It was about this time that 
the Nationalist Government cabled Senator Borah asking him to 
employ his good offices to bring about American withdrawal from 
the conference. The United States sponsored the tariff con 
ference with the best of intentions, yet internal conditions in 
China are such that her endeavor in this respect has been re 
sented by a faction which now controls most of the provinces 
south of the Yangtse. 

In the Yangtse Valley, the British have the greatest commercial 
interests. The wharves, railway concessions, and other impor 
tant enterprises along the great watercourse are mostly in British 
hands. The long-standing enmity of the Cantonese towards 
England is, therefore, particularly noteworthy at this moment. 
We may forget the Opium War. We may ignore the Nanking 
Treaty of 1842, the first of the so-called "unequal" treaties 
under which China has been chafing. The more immediate 
cause of Cantonese hostility to England is the support extended 
by her to the enemies of the Nationalists. It was largely British 
capital which financed Yuan Shi-kai and his imperial schemes. 
After the Yuan regime came to an end in 1916, England cast 
about for another "strong man", and finally fixed upon Wu 
Pei-fu as the man to unify the distracted country. How far the 
British committed themselves to the cause of General Wu is a 
matter of conjecture. But the Cantonese are convinced that 

VOL. ccxxiv. NO. 834 4 


British support was responsible for Wu's spectacular ascendency 
in the years 1921-1923. 

In addition there was a protracted dispute between the British 
and the Cantonese over the collection of customs duties at 
Canton. This, of course, was not particularly British business, 
but a part of the general work of the Maritime Customs. But it 
so happens that the Maritime Customs is practically administered 
by the British, and that at Canton in particular the customs 
officials are mostly British. Dr. Sun Yat-sen contended 
that the surplus of the receipts of the Canton customs was de 
liberately turned over to Wu Pei-fu or whatever militarist 
happened to be in power at Peking, thus materially helping 
the cause of the northern "usurpers". He was not entirely 
unreasonable. It was not his intention to dispute the validity 
of the Powers' claim to the customs revenues so far as these 
revenues were employed to meet the obligations and loans con 
tracted by China as a whole. "I am willing," he said to me 
in 1922, "to provide guarantee that our share of the customs 
receipts will be deposited in the designated foreign banks 
for the service of such loans, and, if necessary, to go still 
further and guarantee that if the Canton customs revenues fall 
short of our quota of the service of the foreign loans, I shall make 
up the deficit with revenues from other sources." What he ob 
jected to was the handing over to the Peking Government of that 
part of Canton customs revenue remaining after the necessary 
sums were paid to meet foreign obligations. 

In December, 1923, Dr. Sun threatened to seize the Canton 
customs, as his protests had been ignored. Whereupon foreign 
Powers, principally Britain and the United States, rushed gun 
boats up the Pearl River, and threatened to intervene should Sun 
Yat-sen dare lay his hands upon the customs. The Nationalists, 
confronted by an imposing flotilla of twenty-one foreign warships, 
were cowed into submission. For this Sun Yat-sen never forgave 

From that time the Nationalists redoubled their energy to stir 
up discontent and unrest among the Chinese laborers in Hong 
kong and Canton to the detriment of British shipping and com 
merce. Things were in this state of ferment when on May 30, 


1925, the British police in the foreign concession at Shanghai, 
in an effort to subdue a mob of Chinese strikers from Japanese 
cotton mills, killed and wounded a number of them. The impact 
of the incident was at once felt at Canton. On June 23 the stu 
dents of the various colleges and schools in Canton held a parade 
to demonstrate their anti-British spirit. As the paraders were 
passing by the British side of Shameen, the foreign concession, 
the British and French machine guns opened fire, resulting in the 
killing and wounding of a few Chinese students. Thereupon the 
Nationalist Government demanded of the British and French 
Consuls adequate apology and indemnity, the surrender of Sha 
meen to the Canton Government, and the withdrawal of all 
foreign warships from the Pearl River. These demands were re 
jected on the ground that the paraders were the first to fire shots, 
killing a Frenchman and three Englishmen. In reply the Can 
tonese declared a general strike and boycott against the British 
and French, especially the former. Immediately British shipping 
was paralyzed, and British trade and enterprise suffered a serious 
setback. Alarmed by this condition, the British Administration 
at Hongkong sought a "peace conference" with the Nationalist 
Government. When the parley opened last summer Canton 
brought forth demands which Hongkong was not prepared even 
to consider. Inevitably the parley petered out without agreement. 

It was about this time that the British press, especially of the 
Conservative school, sounded a note of warning against what it 
considered the too lenient policy of Downing Street towards 
China. The British residents in the Far East had been restive, 
deploring that their Home Government should watch with 
folded arms the drift of events in China. Nevertheless, the 
British policy continued to be moderate. Even when General 
Yang Sen seized two British steamers at Wanhsien on the Yangtse 
last September, and fired upon the two British gunboats which 
attempted to restore them, Britain took no punitive measures. 
With the alliance with Japan a thing of the past, she found it in 
expedient to take such steps single-handed. 

So conciliatory indeed was England that last September she 
seriously considered the proposal of the Nationalist Government 
to lift the anti-British boycott, provided Britain would acquiesce 


in the levying by the said Government of two and a half per cent, 
and five per cent, surtax on ordinary imports and luxuries, re 
spectively, over and above the usual treaty rates. Recognition 
of such a prerogative for Canton would be tantamount to rec 
ognizing two Governments in China, for the Government at 
Peking still claims to be "central". Moreover, the imposition 
of such surtaxes would violate China's treaties with the Powers. 
Obviously the question was one which could not be settled by 
England alone. When in November the diplomatic body at 
Peking decided that the Canton proposal could not be enter 
tained without due process of treaty revision, the Nationalist 
Government retorted that it did not recognize any diplomatic 
body accredited to a Government illegally organized and in 
capable of representing the nation. Meanwhile, Canton, hoping 
to win British recognition, had announced the termination of the 
anti-British boycott, which had lasted for more than sixteen 
months. This announcement, however, has proved a mere ges 
ture, for the anti-British agitation is not only being carried on at 
Canton, but has been extended into the vast Yangtse Valley 
where British interests are even greater than at Canton. Only 
a few days after the above announcement the Canton-Hongkong 
strikers' union resolved that "in order to consolidate and increase 
the revolutionary forces the old form of blockade shall be changed 
to a new boycott movement to be extended throughout the coun 
try until a satisfactory settlement is reached of the May 30 
(Shanghai) and June 23 (Shameen) shooting cases, and of the 
cancellation of the unequal treaties." They called upon all 
classes of people to join " in a general movement to sever economic 
relations with the British", and urged upon the Government that 
the revenue raised by surtaxes be used to subsidize the strikers. 
Apparently confounded by this obstinate opposition, the British 
Charge d 9 Affaires at Peking, in the now celebrated memorandum 
of December 18, expressed sympathy with the Nationalist move 
ment and urged the liberalization of the Powers' policies along 
certain lines. Evidently the note, though addressed to the 
diplomatic body at Peking, was aimed at Canton. As such it 
has proved a complete failure, for Canton has ridiculed it as 
an insincere volte face. 


In all this turmoil and upheaval it is a singular phenomenon 
that Japan has been comparatively immune from harm. It may 
be that the Chinese strategy is "divide and rule" to separate 
Japan from England. But the more important reason, as the 
Japanese see it, lies in Japan's changed policy towards China. 
Japan, like Britain, erred much, especially in the years 1915-9. 
Happily her blunders have not been in vain, for she has learned 
that "helping" China with reckless loans is as unwise as foisting 
unreasonable demands upon her. In the last few years her 
attitude towards China has been such as to commend itself to 
the respect of the Chinese, especially of the liberal class. This 
new policy has not been pleasing to such militarists as Tuan 
Chi-jui or Chang Tso-lin, always soliciting Japanese aid. What, 
indeed, would Chang Tso-lin, war lord of Manchuria, say if 
Japan were to accept the inevitable and to extend recognition 
to the Nationalist Government? Surely the Manchurian will 
leave no stone unturned to dissuade Japan from such a course. 
He might even resort, as he has often been inclined to do, to 
what would amount to blackmail by intimating that, if Japan 
would not stand by him, and him alone, he would invite a third 
Power or Powers into Manchuria to the detriment of her interests. 
Yet Japan cannot ignore the obvious fact that Chang Tso-lin 
is neither a popular nor a righteous man, and that the Nationalist 
Government, despite its "red" tendencies, has many commend 
able qualities. Japan's course, therefore, should, and will, 
be guided by impartiality, keeping aloof from factional feuds 
even at the risk of alienating the friendliness of the Manchurian 
war lord. Is it not significant that in recent years Japanese 
gunboats in China's inland waters have been less conspicuous 
than British or American warships? As this is written America 
has twenty-one warcraft, England nineteen, and Japan ten, at 
Shanghai and along the Yangtse. 

And what of the future of China? Will she forever remain a 
house divided against itself? Or will the Nationalists ultimately 
realize their cherished hope of unification? And if so, will they 
make good their repeated threats to doom all the "unequal" 
treaties of China? "Such is a policy," says the Nationalist 
Government's note to the American Minister at Peking, "that 


has been brought definitely within range of practical politics and 
proved both practicable and expedient by the bold statesmanship 
of Soviet Russia. " With Canton speaking in such tones, Peking, 
for obvious political reasons, cannot afford to lag behind. The 
result is that each tries to outdo the other in the gentle art of 
embarrassing the foreign Powers. What wonder that Canton's 
seizure of the British concession at Hankow has been followed by 
Peking's suggestion that the Powers surrender the concession at 
Tientsin? The Powers, caught between two fires, seem at a loss 
to know what should be done. Baron Shidehara, Japan's For 
eign Minister, asked by Peking to negotiate for the revision of 
the Chino-Japanese treaty on the basis of equality, replied that 
his Government is "ready to enter into negotiations for the 
revision of the tariffs and of the commercial articles of the treaty 
of 1896". "Nor does the Japanese Government," he added, 
"intend to limit the scope of negotiations to these matters," 
but it "is willing to consider sympathetically the wishes of the 
Chinese Government for? a more extensive revision of treaty 
provisions." This undoubtedly will be Japan's attitude whether 
she deals with Peking or with the Nationalist Government. It 
is in line with a resolution offered by Representative Porter in 
the House of Representatives on January 5, and in the main, 
coincides with the policy outlined in Secretary Kellogg's state 
ment of January 27. Japan, in deference to the Washington 
Treaty of 1922, would settle the question of surtaxes at a con 
ference of the signatory Powers, but on the more fundamental 
matters such as tariff autonomy and extraterritoriality she does 
not feel herself bound to take joint action with other nations. 
It is reported that Tokyo has already started "conversations" 
with both Peking and Canton, anticipating that the two will 
eventually unite. Having recognized Soviet Russia, Japan 
should have no fear in dealing with Canton, whether its color 
be "pink" or "red". Is it not possible that the "red" profes 
sions of the Nationalists are just a gesture, meant to scare the 
Powers into making concessions, and that they, when placed in 
a responsible position, will prove themselves ready to deal reason 
ably with any Power which is itself reasonable? Who knows? 



President, New York Stock Exchange 

THE need of organized security markets dates back to the 
times when the needs for capital outran the ability of individuals 
or single institutions to provide it. Not unnaturally, this 
experience occurred first in respect to Government debts. Prior 
to the close of the seventeenth century, European nations had 
been financed out of the purses of their sovereigns, or by the in 
dividual borrowing power of these sovereigns with the large 
capitalists of the day. The frequent recurrence of European 
wars, however, tended in England and other nations to increase 
the financial requirements of the State to such an extent that a 
method had to be devised for obtaining the large needed sums, 
not from a few individuals however wealthy, but from the entire 
public. Due to this transition in the method of public finance, 
national debts were created, security certificates gradually came 
into being, and organized markets for the purchase and sale of 
these certificates gradually evolved. In at least the leading 
nations of the present time, including the United States, the first 
function of the stock exchange was consequently to provide a 
market for the obligations of the home government. Until the 
second quarter of the nineteenth century, this service rendered to 
their respective States by stock exchanges of both sides of the 
Atlantic constituted not only their earliest but also by far their 
principal function. 

The use of the stock exchange to market and distribute securi 
ties representing private business enterprise was first resorted to 
when the steam railway attained popularity. Before the coming 
of steam transportation, business enterprise was as a rule con 
ducted in small units and usually by individuals and partnerships 
rather than by corporations. It remained for the early steam 
railway companies, with their huge initial requirements for capi- 


tal, to inaugurate a second function of the exchanges namely 
the marketing and distribution among investors of the securities 
of private business corporations. In this respect too, there is a 
close parallelism in the historical development of the New York 
security market and the similar markets in London, Paris and 
other important Continental cities. 

But in the field of private business, steam railroading did not 
long remain the sole form of enterprise which, owing to a con 
tinual need for new capital, sought and obtained recognition on 
the stock exchanges. One effect of the new facilities provided by 
the early railroad systems here and abroad was to place within 
easy access to the world's markets large mineral deposits whose 
exploitation on a large scale had until this time been practically 
impossible. As a result coal and oil shares made their appear 
ance on the stock exchanges about the middle of the nineteenth 
century, to be followed by other similar corporate securities 
representing the exploitation of other raw materials, and their 
fabrication into finished goods. The exact form which this 
evolution took in any given country depended necessarily on the 
country itself. With the enormous natural resources of the 
United States suddenly opened as a field for business exploita 
tion, obviously it is not surprising that the addition to the list of 
the New York Stock Exchange of securities representing domestic 
business enterprises has not yet shown any important signs of 
diminishing. In fact, a vastly greater amount of securities came 
into the New York Stock Exchange during 1925 from American 
industrial enterprises, than from any other important source. 
With certain of the European stock exchanges, however, no 
such large scale exploitation of domestic resources was possible, 
and in consequence the exact character of the service rendered 
by these markets has taken a somewhat different turn from 
what has been the case in America. 


The coming of the industrial revolution led in every modern 
country to the sudden creation of amounts of investable capital 
which had never existed to anything like the same extent before. 


Through what channels and into what enterprises this capital 
subsequently flowed has varied in each country according to its 
particular economic circumstances. Naturally enough, as long 
as attractive opportunities for capital existed at home, the 
tendency for capital to cross the national boundary lines was 
small. In this particular respect, however, there has been the 
widest divergence of experience between the large capital markets 
of the modern world, as a glance at the list of securities dealt in on 
the leading stock exchanges quickly indicates. As long as a 
century ago, British capital was being attracted to the Continent 
by government loans and other early forms of investment. 
While England accumulated vast amounts of capital in the 
nineteenth century, owing to her having initiated the industrial 
revolution, there was not found in Gr$at Britain itself a satis 
factory outlet for all these new funds. An inevitable result of 
this situation was that England became an international creditor 
country on a large scale. Denied not only the opportunity of 
increase but perhaps even the opportunity of survival in England 
itself, British capital flowed out to the far corners of the world. 
The extensive British colonies already existing provided a field 
for the placement of a good part of it. Railways were con 
structed in Canada and in India, and as time went on not only 
the financing of colonial governments but also of the business 
enterprises of the colonists themselves was undertaken by the 
great London market. In addition vast sums were invested by 
the British in American railways, which served to bring the vast 
actual and potential agricultural production of this country 
quickly and cheaply to our Atlantic seaboard, for shipment to 
England and other countries which were no longer able from 
their own resources to feed their rapidly mounting populations. 
A similar process led to the development of the Argentine and 
other South American railway systems by British capital. The 
British instinct for exploration of new and unknown lands 
fitted in excellently with the British national surplus of capital 
seeking investment, with the result that in the nineteenth 
century British finance literally took the whole world for its 

A somewhat similar evolution occurred in France, although 


on a smaller and more conservative scale and beginning at a 
somewhat later period. The French investor, however, as a rule 
proved unwilling to go so far afield for his investments as the 
British. The favorite French foreign investment undoubtedly 
consisted of the government obligations of European countries 
a field which French diplomacy as well as French surplus funds 
rapidly developed. In addition to its well known and enormous 
investments in Russia, the Paris capital market before the War 
dealt in the obligations of a wide variety of European national 
and municipal governments, as well as many foreign business 
enterprises in which the larger London financial centre had 
already blazed the trail. 

To a lesser extent the same tendency toward capital saturation 
at home and the consequent international flow of funds was 
observable in the other countries of Europe. Some of these 
financial centres, as for instance Amsterdam, played a large part 
in financing the requirements of American business development. 
It is consequently true that during the nineteenth century 
capital became an international commodity which, due to the 
existence of stock exchange organizations practically all over the 
world, could flow readily and inexpensively into enterprise at 
great distances. European countries became in this way inter 
national creditors on balance. Their requirements for food and 
other raw materials from the newer countries of the Western 
hemisphere could be settled for by the constantly accruing 
coupon and dividend payments on the securities in the new 
Western nations which they held. Indeed the entire population 
of Europe came, during the course of a few generations, to be 
adjusted in accordance with this principle, and the foreign 
national incomes from outside investments came to be depended 
upon to feed the home populations of European countries. 


The experience of the European capital lenders in the last cen 
tury, outlined above, is of interest to Americans today largely 
because of the sharp contrast which it affords to contemporary 
economic conditions in this country. Until the opening of the 


nineteenth century, the United States was perhaps the leading 
debtor nation of the world. 

For several generations the flow of foreign capital into our 
railway and industrial enterprises had gone on, with a consequent 
shipment abroad of American securities and the inevitable 
payment abroad of coupons and dividends on them each year. 
The Spanish War, however, resulted in the expansion of this 
nation into the sphere of world policies, and a great broadening 
of American interest in foreign lands and foreign affairs. It was 
followed almost immediately by the very costly Boer War, 
during which the resources of financial London were diverted 
from their ordinary commercial and investment channels to 
carry on the struggle. With this abnormal brake on the London 
market, a few international borrowers for practically the first 
time sought the then prosperous financial market in New York 
as a source of capital. As a result, a few foreign securities made 
their appearance on the New York Stock Exchange, and some 
financial students hailed the event as a sign that this institution 
was at last entering an international phase of operations as a 
capital market. But in reality this view of the matter was 
premature. The annual creation of capital in this country was 
still quite out of proportion to the tremendous demands for 
capital which American industries themselves were still making. 
American prosperity therefore went on to its spectacular climax 
in 1907, while the London market soon reasserted itself as the 
great source for international funds and the great market place 
for international securities. 

The basic position of the United States as a debtor nation was 
clearly revealed at the outbreak of the World War in 1914, when 
the imminent danger that European countries might attempt 
to liquidate billions of dollars' worth of American securities in 
New York compelled the closing of the New York Stock Ex 
change for the longest period on record. 

The coming of the European War, however, was destined to 
mark the beginning of a new definite international phase in the 
history of the New York financial centre, and perhaps nowhere 
was this fact made more clearly manifest than on the New York 
Stock Exchange itself. During the period of American neu- 


trality in the War vast amounts of American securities previously 
held in the creditor nations of Europe were sold in New York to 
the rapidly increasing class of American security buyers, and 
thus absorbed within this country. By this gradual process the 
claims and participations of foreigners in our leading industries 
were vastly reduced, and for the first time the obligations of 
American business to foreign investors fell swiftly to compara 
tively small amounts. On the other hand, New York suddenly 
became the only free market for new capital on a large scale, and 
very naturally a considerable number of government obligations 
of the warring European nations appeared on the list of the New 
York Stock Exchange. This occurrence of course represented 
the flow of American capital or American goods abroad in large 
amounts, in exchange for our imports of foreign securities. For 
a time this process was interrupted, owing to our own eventual 
participation in the War. It was obvious good sense for the 
United States as a belligerent to concentrate its financial efforts 
on the flotation of its own huge government loans, to the exclusion 
of issues of the Allied countries in competition thereto. But 
after the final United States War Loan, the purchase by Ameri 
cans of new foreign security issues was soon resumed, and, except 
for what have after all been only temporary interruptions, this 
process has continued on a large scale ever since. The growth 
of New York as an international capital market has likewise 
come to be governed by economic rather than purely political 
circumstances, and loans have been floated here for the recent 
enemy nations as well as for the Allied countries. Countries 
which were neutral during the recent conflict have likewise had 
recourse to the New York financial market, and have placed 
their securities, sometimes in considerable volumes, with the ever 
broadening investment public of this country. 

On December 1, 1926, there were listed on the New York Stock 
Exchange 134 separate foreign government bond issues with an 
aggregate market value of $3,234,686,848.00. Of these issues 
sixty-five represented national or subdivisional governments in 
Europe, while South America was similarly represented by forty- 
one, North America and the West Indies by seventeen, Australasia 
by seven, and Asia by four. In addition there were on our list 


forty-eight stock and bond issues of foreign railway companies 
and fifty-eight issues of foreign non-railway enterprises, making a 
total of 106 foreign company issues with an aggregate market 
value of $1,596,408,480.00. Thus the total foreign issues listed 
on the New York Stock Exchange on December 1 last possessed 
an aggregate market value of $4,831,095,328.00. While this 
amount is still less than ten per cent, of the total market value of 
securities listed on the New York Stock Exchange, it is never 
theless sufficiently large to command the serious attention not 
only of financial specialists but also of the public at large. 


So sudden and so striking a change in the American capital 
market, and indeed in the whole economic situation of this coun 
try internationally, has very naturally produced considerable 
bewilderment and confusion of thought throughout the country. 
By some this wholesale investment of American funds in foreign 
fields has been viewed with alarm, not only on the score that the 
investments themselves were necessarily dangerous and risky, but 
also on the ground that American enterprises themselves were, 
because of this new development, deprived of capital needed for 
their operations at home. The assumption by this country of the 
active functions of an international creditor nation has very 
naturally given rise to large considerations of this sort upon which 
even yet it is difficult to place any absolutely final opinion. But 
it should be obvious to all that foreign investment has, for better 
or worse, become a definite and permanent process in this coun 
try. Already our national evolution as a creditor nation has 
gone too far for us to doubt this fact. We are facing in this 
respect a condition and not a theory. For, as I have already 
pointed out, it has not been America that has made capital an 
international commodity. This was done fully a century ago by 
the very European creditor nations which were at that time pur 
chasing American securities. It therefore seems inevitable that 
we must view the new international aspects of American finance 
simply as the arrival of a more mature phase in the financial 
evolution of this country. 


While arguing from analogy always possesses its peculiar 
dangers, there seems to be little fundamental difference between 
the investment policy of an individual and that of a nation. 
Naturally the individual employs his savings strictly for his own 
benefit before undertaking to loan them to others. However 
there is little more reason for criticizing a nation which makes 
foreign investments, than an individual who has a surplus of 
funds available for lending to other individuals. 

It is a well known fact that the exports of any nation are apt to 
be closely connected with the country's foreign loans. In this 
regard the British have long fostered and increased their exports 
by the judicious investment of British capital in foreign lands. 
When, for example, British capitalists purchased Argentine rail 
way securities, much railway equipment business came in to 
British manufacturers as a result. Already American manu 
facturers have become aware of this aspect of foreign loans, and 
in some cases have already benefited considerably by them. It 
is not necessarily true, however, that the proceeds of a foreign 
loan must be expended in the lending nation to benefit the lender. 
For, wherever these proceeds are expended, prosperity and buy 
ing power will be increased to that extent, and a large scale inter 
national lending country invariably benefits indirectly by pros 
perity in other countries. It could be rather easily demonstrated 
today that if Americans loaned money to a South American 
country which desired to buy equipment in Europe with it, our 
claims as a creditor of Europe would be proportionately improved 
and benefited. 

Holdings of foreign securities are also of great potential value to 
a creditor country whenever the necessity arises to obtain funds 
in foreign lands. No better instance of this fact could be given 
than the recent experience of Great Britain during the War. 
When it became necessary for the English to make large pur 
chases of war supplies here, they were able to obtain credit by 
returning to us tremendous amounts of American securities 
which their investors had previously held. One can think what 
one wishes about the likelihood that this country may in the 
future find the establishment of such foreign credits necessary or 
desirable. At any rate it should be a comforting reflection to 


Americans that we possess large holdings of foreign securities 
which in the future could presumably be realized upon abroad in 
case of actual need. 

The income no less than the principal of foreign investments is 
also an important item entering into any nation's international 
balance. It is a well-known fact that for years England was able 
to import more merchandise than she exported, largely through 
the fact of her receiving payments each year on her foreign 
securities. The practical meaning of this particular development 
in the American trade balance is, so it seems to me, that America 
will in future years be increasingly able to import luxury products 
of all sorts from all over the world, and will be able to support 
financially the tremendous expenses of American tourists abroad 
each year. Any of these items may of course, by growing out of 
proportion to the other items in our trade balance, occasion cer 
tain misgivings among our economists. Yet unless they are thus 
suddenly overdone, they simply represent the superior ability of 
a rich over a poor country to enjoy the good things of the world. 
There are, it is true, Americans who are as apt to be terrified by 
national prosperity as by national depression. Despite such 
apprehension in regard to the changing character of the American 
trade balance, however, it is not impossible that the United 
States may in coming years experience a steady development 
toward the condition of the international trade balances of 
England and other creditor nations before the War. 

A final intangible and yet vitally important aspect of the ques 
tion of foreign investing lies in its tendency to broaden the knowl 
edge and sympathies of countless Americans with other lands, 
other peoples and other civilizations. The War undoubtedly 
taught America much concerning the geography of Europe, yet 
the time is coming when American foreign investment will prove 
even more instructive regarding not merely Europe but also the 
other continents of the earth. The American foreign bond 
holder, however small his holdings may be, is humanly bound to 
exhibit a new curiosity regarding the borrowing country. For 
the first time, it may be, he will investigate the subject by reading 
not merely foreign financial statistics, but also books upon for 
eign political and economic conditions. The United States is 


already the most cosmopolitan nation in the world in race, and 
the steady extension of foreign security holdings among our 
people is likely further to increase the range of American sym 
pathies internationally in just this way. At a time when the 
desire for international peace is everywhere shown, this is a force 
which can by no means be overlooked. After all, international 
creditor nations, both as communities and also as individuals, have 
the most to lose by international conflict. The true internation 
alization of capital has already proved itself a powerful deterrent 
to armed conflicts between the nations, and in this as well as 
other countries its force will, in the future as in the past, be 
exerted powerfully in favor of peace and against needless war. 

It goes without saying that this new international economic 
viewpoint, so different from the former outlook of American busi 
ness and finance, has made itself felt particularly in the New 
York Stock Exchange, through which so many foreign as well as 
domestic securities are being distributed to our investing public. 
It is by no means improbable that the New York Stock Exchange 
will take its place among the great organized capital markets of 
the world, and this transition from almost purely domestic 
functions to an international function may well necessitate 
changes in its economic interests and its operating methods, even 
beyond those which have already occurred. 

Just as the most obvious sign of the New York Stock Ex 
change's international significance as a capital market lies in the 
large and growing group of foreign securities on its list, so perhaps 
the principal new development in this regard within the Exchange 
has been the formulation of a new code of listing requirements 
for foreign government loans. As with the older code for 
domestic company securities, these requirements consist of 
demands for specific financial information regarding the issuing 
State. This information is not collected for the Stock Exchange 
itself, but in behalf of the entire investing public which deals 
there. The chief aim of the Exchange in formulating these 
listing requirements is consequently to obtain for the public 


relevant information concerning the new securities admitted to 
its markets. This information is contained in the formal appli 
cation to list the given security which is presented to the Ex 
change prior to its passing on the question of whether or not it 
shall be admitted to dealings and quotation there. The New 
York Stock Exchange put into effect this code of listing require 
ments for foreign government securities in 1 925 . Subsequent expe 
rience has shown these requirements to be ample and adequate. 
But the period during which they have been in force has been 
too brief to render the system perfect in operation. The foreign 
investment field is still a new one to us, and American investors 
are still largely unfamiliar with securities of this type. In 
addition, the unwonted surplus of American investable capital 
has encouraged new underwriting firms to enter the foreign 
security business under conditions of very active competition. 
This situation has an important bearing on the whole status of 
American foreign security investing. Some underwriting firms, 
in bringing out a new foreign issue, make inadequate investiga 
tions concerning the borrower. Often, the borrower's statements 
concerning the various points raised in the Stock Exchange 
requirements are accepted with little or no investigation by the 
underwriter, and are accordingly entered in the application to 
list on the Exchange. Such a process permits of unfortunate 
errors of commission and omission in regard to the facts set forth; 
nor are these errors in all cases easy to detect and rectify. Foreign 
government officials who negotiate loans are frequently under 
considerable political pressure to tread lightly on various aspects 
of their national finance, past and present. Relatively few 
American underwriting firms have the intimate and highly 
specialized information and knowledge in such matters that is 
usually possessed by the older and more experienced financial 
firms of London.' Furthermore, the New York Exchange cannot 
undertake the enormous task of checking and thoroughly in 
vestigating the accuracy of all statements made in the listing 
applications submitted to it. As time goes on and American 
experience with foreign securities grows, this situation will doubt 
less improve without special remedial efforts. Nevertheless, 
at the present time there is a real need for some independent and 

VOL. CCXXIV. -NO. 834 5 


thorough fact-finding organization in American finance, to check 
new loan prospectuses with the acid test of definite facts, knowl 
edge and experience. 

With the passage of time, there will also inevitably develop in 
this country a keener discrimination between different foreign 
securities. At present, there is a natural yet fallacious tendency 
to lump them together, whether they be British consols or the 
worthless obligations of some bankrupt foreign State with an 
exploded currency. Like all other securities, foreign issues 
include those which are good, bad and indifferent. It is childish 
reasoning to assume that foreign securities are either entirely 
splendid, or else entirely dangerous. 

Not merely the gains and losses of our investors are at stake 
in this vital need of discrimination between foreign security 
issues. The American financial markets are today the balance 
wheel of almost the whole economic world. Judicious loans to 
worthy borrowers should not only prove profitable to American in 
vestors, but also be an indirect but powerful stimulus to American 
business prosperity generally, by assisting to bring about more 
prosperous conditions abroad. On the other hand, rash and 
unjustified American loans abroad tend not only to impose losses 
upon American investors sooner or later, but also to encourage 
in other countries unsound and uneconomic financial practices 
which in turn delay financial reconstruction and ultimately 
hamper general prosperity in international trade. 

This is a lesson which every one of the older financial creditor 
centres has had to learn by hard experience, and sometimes only 
after bitter financial loss. America, emerging as the greatest 
creditor nation of the present time, has the very valuable prece 
dent of their experience, if we can and will make use of it. That 
American capital should today be invested abroad is, as a general 
economic proposition, necessary and inevitable. But whether 
the process shall be relatively free from the rash financial adven 
tures and considerable losses to investors which attended the 
beginnings of foreign investment in England, France and other 
European countries some generations ago, it remains for the 
intelligent foresight and analytical ability of the whole American 
financial community to determine. 



President of Union College 

EDMUND BURKE introduces his "Thoughts on the Cause of the 
Present Discontents" with this statement: "It is an undertaking 
of some degree of delicacy to examine into the cause of public 
disorders. If a man happens not to succeed in such an inquiry, 
he will be thought weak and visionary; if he touches the true 
grievance, there is a danger that he may come near to persons of 
weight and consequence, who will rather be exasperated at the 
discovery of their errors than thankful for the occasion of correct 
ing them." 

For "public disorders" read "educational defects", and for 
"persons" substitute "institutions", and we shall have a descrip 
tion of the situation facing those of us who venture upon such an 
examination. The delicacy of the undertaking has in no wise 
discouraged the critics. Never has there been so much criticism 
of education, and never has it been so savage. And no wonder; 
for next to keeping alive education is the most important thing in 
life, not only because it touches all life but from the very size of it. 

Of all the big business in this land of big business, education is 
the biggest. Not far from one quarter of our one hundred and 
seventeen millions are either going to school or teaching school. 
The other three quarters pay for it, and these are the critics; often 
unintelligent, sometimes unjust, occasionally helpful, but always 

One thing must be evident to the most unobservant. The last 
generation has seen changes in education more marked than any 
within the memory of the living. In primary education these 
changes have been altogether to the good. In secondary educa 
tion the improvement has not been so obvious. Mass production 
has distracted attention from the higher intellectual aims. 
There has been much wandering, and a good deal of fruitless 
experimentation and wasted time. 


In higher education, a range in which I am more at home, 
there have been mixed gains and losses. The gains have been 
chiefly in improved methods of teaching, in the content and scope 
of the curriculum and in physical equipment. In general, I 
should say that more work and better work is done in our col 
leges than ever before. The standards of scholarship are higher 
and there is a larger proportion of men who take college life 
seriously. The standards of health are also higher and more 
attention is given to the care of the body and to physical training. 
Best of all is the improvement in the moral tone of the campus. 
Conditions are far from perfect, but in all the eighteen years of my 
experience as a college president, I can remember no time when 
undergraduate life, both in sentiment and practice, has been so 
wholesome as it is today. 

On the other hand, we must count among our losses the fact 
that there is less interest in knowledge for its own sake. As I 
recall college We at Princeton in the 'eighties, while there was 
much aimless talk "chewing the rag", as we called it in the 
vernacular we did talk a good deal about books. I do not 
remember any talk about how much this or that study might 
later be worth in dollars and cents. Nowadays, outside of sports 
and movies and campus gossip, this is one of the most absorbing 
topics of conversation. 

In our day our main purpose was to get an education. We had 
at heart some vague notion of what the poet meant when he said, 
"My mind to me a kingdom is." Now it is very practical prose, 
or if turned into free verse it would read: 

My mind to me an income is 
And it is nothing more. 

In the mind of the great majority education is assessed upon a 
strict money value, and the object of it is set in a fixed determina 
tion to "cash in" at the earliest possible moment. 

Following this change came another, natural and even inevi 
table. The number of college men going into gainful occupations 
increased, while the number of those turning to callings where the 
compelling motive is human service grew beautifully less. In the 
two Eastern colleges I know best, a generation ago, something 


like twenty per cent, of the graduates became ministers; many of 
them missionaries. Now it is more nearly two per cent. 

It is true that callings are now open to men of the missionary 
spirit which were hardly known at an earlier time. But after 
we have included all who are engaged in such callings, the decline 
in the sense of obligation is only too evident. So far as the min 
istry goes, the change no doubt is partly due to economic pressure, 
partly to the fact that the last thirty or forty years have been 
years of anxious questioning, especially in all matters of religious 
belief. Any weakening of religious conviction was sure to affect 
college men in their choice of a life work. 

Along with these changes there is also a definite tendency to 
ward a more general acceptance of a utilitarian philosophy of 
life. The astonishing increase of interest in the physical sciences 
that has marked the last twenty-five years is not all due to intel 
lectual curiosity. The moving impulse is the transformation 
these sciences work in industry, in trade and in all the detail of 
daily life that has to do with physical well-being. The com 
manding place which these subjects now hold in the college 
curriculum is largely the result of this interest. 

An impelling force was given to this movement by the writings 
of Herbert Spencer. He closes the first chapter of his treatise on 
Education by asserting that for all purposes of life, including the 
intellectual, moral and religious, as well as the practical, science is 
the only thing that really counts. Complaining that while 
science, like Cinderella, has been doing all the work, she has been 
kept in the background that her haughty sisters might flaunt 
their fripperies in the eyes of the world, he prophesies that the 
positions will be changed, and while these haughty sisters sink 
into merited neglect, science, proclaimed as highest alike in worth 
and beauty, will reign supreme. 

By "haughty sisters flaunting their fripperies" he means 
languages, history, poetry and the fine arts. The prophecy has 
not altogether come true, but Cinderella has come out of the 
kitchen and is making herself at home all over the place. The 
whole house, in fact, is in the way to become a glorified kitchen. 
To put it another way, the camel has followed the camel's nose 
and the tent is becoming a little overcrowded. 


So far from regretting that science has come to its own in the 
scheme of education, we are all eager to welcome it. There is no 
longer any opposition, excepting perhaps in Tennessee. If there 
is ever any trouble, it comes from the excessive claims of its in 
discreet friends. 

Comparisons are odious, but we may well ask whether it is any 
less important to know the thoughts and ways of men than it is to 
know the structure of the atom, the chemistry of plants or the 
habits of animals. There have been great scientists who thought 
that for all essential purposes of life the record and the influence 
of the life and words of Jesus were worth more than all the dis 
coveries and achievements of science since the beginning of time. 
The relative value of these things is not a matter of mathematical 
computation, but sound policy demands that the place of any 
study in a college curriculum must be determined on the principle 
that "the life is more than meat and the body than raiment". 

We should not be surprised that the great emphasis placed 
upon physical science should be accompanied by certain perver 
sions that are not at all of the nature of science. The Darwinian 
doctrine of the Survival of the Fittest in the hands of Bismarck 
and Treitschke and the rest, became Teutonized into a divine 
command to take up the goose step and subdue the world. 

In the same way in the hands of certain apostles of efficiency 
Spencer's idea of the mission of science has been materialized into 
an irresistible urge to take up the academic goose step and 
vocationalize all education. This has been felt in the colleges to 
a degree damaging to science itself, turning away the mind from 
pure science to its applications; as if the main purpose of science 
were to make us comfortable and multiply inconvenient con 
veniences instead of helping us on our way to the promised land 
of our intellectual and spiritual inheritance. 

It has been said that ours is a vocational educational system in 
a vocationally-minded civilization. It is not far from the truth. 
Some time ago a prominent pork packer asked, "How can a college 
professor earning $3,000 a year teach my son how to earn $10,- 
000?" Here in a nutshell, or in a pig skin, is the whole philos 
ophy of a strictly vocational education. To make more money 
to buy more corn to feed more hogs; to make more money to buy 


more corn to feed more hogs, and so on, world without end. 

This is putting it brutally, but it is expressing in plain terms 
what a great many are trying to camouflage under the name of a 
practical education. A type of institution has recently sprung 
up which has been hailed by certain so-called practical men as a 
true model for higher education. Here at last, they say, is the 
real thing a working college, a place where youth is at all points 
fitted for life : A few weeks of study alternating with a few weeks 
in a shop or a factory. 

The idea is not entirely new. Wackford Squeers had an es 
tablishment based upon that idea although of a different sort: 

Clean verb, active, to make bright. W-i-n-d-e-r winder. When a boy 
knows this out of a book he goes and does it. 

B-o-t-t-i-n-n-e-y bottinney, a knowledge of plants. Go out and weed the 

Horse, a beast, a quadruped Go to the stable and rub down my horse. 

I am not ridiculing the idea. On the contrary it has much to 
commend it. I hope these institutions may succeed. They are 
needed. To accomplish a certain result it does very well, but as a 
substitute for a college it does not do at all. A few months ago 
a young man told me that he was going to such an institution be 
cause he expected to succeed his father in a small business. He 
explained that the authorities had promised him that he should 
have the opportunity at this institution to gain experience in a 
small business. I advised him to go. If it was his ambition to 
continue all his life in a small business, that was the place for him. 
Probably this was precisely what the young man was fitted for. 

Another youth who was attending one of our best known uni 
versities told me he was taking a special course to prepare him for 
his father's business. I asked him if he thought this course would 
furnish the required preparation. He said he thought it would. 
Upon my inquiring what his father's business was, he answered 
that he was a manufacturer of nursing bottles. In my mind I 
could not help congratulating that university on the elasticity of 
its curriculum and the wealth of its resources. 

We should avoid the confusion of ideas which fails to distin 
guish between an institute and a college. Their traditions are 


not the same, their aims are not the same, they do not furnish the 
same academic environment and they do not produce the same 
kind of men. The main purpose of a college is to prepare for life. 
A vocation is a part of life but it is not life, and the larger the con 
ception of life the broader will be our conception of education. 

I wonder whether we are not taking too much of the tone of 
business in our colleges? I have heard certain colleges criticized 
on the ground that they are not democratic enough. Whether 
the criticism is deserved in these special cases I do not know, but 
speaking generally I suspect that we are disposed to be too demo 
cratic. By that I mean that more and more we are bringing the 
colleges down to the level of the man on the street, apparently 
upon the assumption that the man on the street is the sort of man 
we are aspiring to develop shall we say, a Babbitt? In 1826, 
Macaulay could say and did say: "Our only objection to Oxford 
and Cambridge may be summed up in two words wealth and 
privilege." So far as wealth goes, we of the present shall have to 
plead guilty to the soft impeachment. But the charge of privi 
lege could never be fairly made. What can be said is that we 
have too often been satisfied with mediocrity. In our indiscrim 
inate exaltation of what we call Democracy we have shied off 
from anything bearing the taint of Aristocracy, a thing which in 
its true meaning ought to be the ambition of any intelligent man 
and of any wise and progressive nation. The chief impediment 
to progress toward an intellectual aristocracy is numbers. 

Curiously enough we are all beginning to come round to the 
ways which have been the ways of Oxford and Cambridge for a 
long time, namely the pass system for mediocrity and the honors 
system for the man who is in truth the only kind of person who 
can rightly be called a university man. The hope of this or of 
any country is in its superior men. Masses do not raise them 
selves; they are raised, usually against their will and sometimes in 
spite of violent opposition, by some man who towers above the 
crowd: A Duce, if you please; for whatever we may think of 
Mussolini's methods he is a brilliant illustration that a superior 
man can do for them that which millions of inferior men cannot 
do for themselves. We do not accept Nietzsche's conception of 
the superman, not because the idea itself is wrong but because his 


superman of the big blond beast is as repulsive to us as Bismarck's 
policy of blood and iron which went with it. It is of the highest 
significance that France is sending out on its letters by postal 
cancellation an appeal for La Cite Universitaire La France doit 
sauver ses elites. 

It is the business of the college to produce an elite superior 
men. Of course we do not mean men who withdraw themselves 
from the crowd but men capable of leading the crowd. Men 
whose minds have been trained to sound judgment and whose 
spirits have been inspired to noble enterprise and who thus have 
become our most efficient men for all the higher purposes of 
life. A vocational system of education is deadening to such an 

That the vocational idea is a good one, and that vocational 
guidance should play a part in our educational system, we freely 
grant. My point is that we are laying burdens upon their 
shoulders which they are not able to bear, and are charging them 
with responsibilities for which they are not equal. Vulcan is also 
among the gods, but we must not allow him to thrust Minerva 
from her seat. 

And in all we have said about science, I have not for a moment 
forgotten how much we owe to scientific method and to the 
scientific spirit for the advances not only in the realm of science 
but also in government, in education, and in religion; nor have 
I lost sight of the pure joy of scientific research which has 
brought so much delight to many of my friends, although, alas ! 
denied to me. 

I suspect that we have made too sharp a distinction between 
the scientific spirit and the classical spirit, as if the one dealt only 
with the dead past and the other with the living future. Is it not 
true that the present and the future are influenced more pro 
foundly by the thoughts and discoveries of the past than by the 
discoveries of the known present, or the conjectures of the un 
known future? Different as they are, the scientific spirit and the 
classical spirit are both part of life, cooperative and not competi 
tive. To separate them in our education is to breed antagonisms 
which tend to weaken both. Early specialization in either is to 
work harm through the narrowing of sympathies and the prej- 


udicing of judgments, and if ever we needed men of wide horizons 
and broad sympathies and judgments it is in this confused age. 
If isolation is an anachronism as a national policy, what shall we 
say of it in education? 

It may not be the sequence of cause and effect. Post hoc 
propter hoc has spoiled many a generalization, but it is significant 
that a decline in the classical spirit has been accompanied by a 
decline in certain qualities which are of the very essence of a 
higher civilization. When we speak of the classical spirit we have 
in mind such qualities as grace, poise, restraint, proportion, 
balance. The very mention o these in connection with the pres 
ent age startles us into a realization of the astonishing want of 
them. We point to our magnificent achievements, the superb 
courage and enterprise which have won for us such amazing 
conquests over the forces of nature, our widespread prosperity, 
our enormous wealth; and we ask whether there has been any 
thing like it in all the long history of mankind. But will any one 
claim that there has been a corresponding progress in those con 
quests of the spirit by which alone the highest well-being of the 
race is secured? 

Along with our intense activity perhaps because of it so far 
from growing in grace we are conscious of a certain crudity, a 
rudeness, which has colored our very speech, not to say our man 
ners. Restlessness, impatience of restraint, grotesque dispro 
portion in our scale of values, are literally hall marks of the 
twentieth century in America. 

We may apply the test to almost any expression of life. Take 
modern Art not all but much of it the kind that glories in its 
modernism. Its most savage defenders would hardly claim for it 
the qualities we have described as classical. Even to suggest such 
a claim would make them still more savage. What the cool ob 
server sees is neither grace nor poise nor restraint nor proportion, 
but a kind of bewildering negation of all these which the modern 
ist would have us believe is significant. 

A sculptor builds up a twisted structure of angular pieces of 
railroad iron and calls it a horse; a painter shows us an inverted 
cone in red and green and labels it "Tillie the Tragic Turnip ", and 
expects us to take it seriously and to treat it tenderly because it is 


a female turnip. We commit certain outrages upon the defence 
less ether and call it music and we dance to it. These are some of 
the ways in which the spirit of the age expresses itself. 

We get used to these things. The only comfort is that we 
weary of them and discard them for something better. There are 
signs in many quarters that such a revulsion is already on its way. 
The very fever of modern life, the neurotic restlessness, the mad 
rush for exciting pleasures, the sickening excess and waste of good 
resources in time and money and nervous energy, the speed mania, 
all these are symptoms of an inward discontent that is seeking to 
forget itself in distraction. The fact that these things are in 
their very nature unquiet and chaotic and wearing to the soul is 
proof enough that they cannot last and that we shall turn with 
relief to those more permanent and harmonious forms which are 
the expressions of the spirit caught by Keats in his lines on the 
Grecian Urn: 

Thou still unravished bride of quietness, 
Thou foster child of silence and slow time. 

How far any of these things can be effected by the colleges is a 
question too subtle for a plain man. That the education we get 
at college does influence taste and form mental habit we may be 
sure. We have spoken of the classical spirit and its respect for 
proportion and restraint. An education carried on in this spirit 
ought to have that effect upon the mind. 

That there was much grace in the late Victorian age no one 
would think of claiming, but that life in all its expressions was 
more restrained and that the scale of values was better propor 
tioned may fairly be asserted. And the type of college had 
something to do with it. Many of those in college at that time 
have no doubt lost much of the classical culture to which they 
were at least exposed. But those of us who came under its in 
fluence know that there was something about it, atmospheric, if 
you please, which disposed us to measure values by intellectual 
and spiritual standards and inclined us to find our satisfactions 
not in hectic and unrestrained excitements from without, but in 
the exercise of those higher faculties which to the really educated 
man are the sources of the purest pleasure. 


When we speak of utility we must not forget that there are 
higher uses as well as lower. To some of us such an education had 
not only use but value, and that of the most precious kind. My 
plea then is for a new emphasis upon the spiritual aspects of life 
and an education that shall be dominated by such a purpose. 
Santayana says: "To have another world to live in whether we 
expect to pass wholly into it or not is what we mean by having a 
religion." A civilization with no other world in it will inevitably 
degenerate into some form of carnality; no less carnal because it 
may be highly sophisticated, rather more so, as happened in the 
decadent age of Greece. 

And an education with no other world in it will tend to produce 
that kind of civilization; a thing that is bound to have in it the 
seeds of its own decay. "He that soweth to the flesh shall of the 
flesh reap corruption." There are those who believe that we are 
moving in that direction; among them Santayana and Professor 
McDougall, a philosopher who speaks with habitual caution. 
He has recently said, "As I watch the American nation speeding 
gaily with invincible optimism down the road to destruction, I 
seem to be contemplating the greatest tragedy in the history of 
mankind." We may shrug our shoulders at such a saying and 
murmur, Gloomy Dean. But that alters nothing. What if 
there should be something in it? What if we are on the wrong 
track? Other civilizations have perished, civilizations greater in 
many respects than ours. Why not ours? 

There is only one way to make any civilization secure, and that 
is by making God the centre of it and by providing an education 
from lowest to highest whose strength and beauty are in His 
sanctuary. Perhaps the trouble with our education is that we 
have been trying to get along without Him. You can not make a 
religion out of psychiatry and business administration. 

It is the spirit of education that matters, not its body. The 
mechanics of education have been overdone. We have built up 
an educational machine in which we are putting too much trust. 
It may even turn out a Frankenstein. Along with this we have 
developed a passion for analysis which is carrying us too far. 
To take a child's mind to pieces and forget how to put it together 
again; to show a man how his mind works without showing him 


how to work his mind; to teach him all about behaviorism except 
ing how to behave, and to guide him to a vocation without train 
ing him to those qualities of character which alone ensure success, 
all this may be done under the name of utility, but it isn't of 
much use. What we need more than all else in our education is 
less of the machine and more of the man; less analysis, more 
synthesis; less attention to speed and more to direction, less to 
body and more to spirit. 

Behind and under every system is a philosophy. In our edu 
cation most thoughtful men will agree that we have allowed too 
much influence to the material, not to say the commercial. Our 
appeal must be set higher. When a man's philosophy changes it 
affects his whole life, and when the philosophy of an age under 
goes a change that change is felt in every range of life; in society, 
in government, in industry, in religion and of course in education. 
It is here we must look for our redemption in education as in 
everything else. When we think of ourselves as spiritual beings, 
made in God's image, immortal souls with an eternal destiny, 
whatever may be wrong in our orientation will be by way of cor 
rection. Perhaps we may come to a better idea of what a college 
really is. We shall realize then that a college is neither a monas 
tery nor a factory, neither a cold storage plant for the preserva 
tion of perishable academic goods nor a kind of department store 
organized to sell education by raucous advertising and bargain 
counters. It will mean to us a place where youth is fitted to be at 
home in both the worlds to which he by right belongs. 

It is good to remember, in an age of haste and hubbub, of 
motor horns and White Ways, of glare and jazz and jostle, that 
there are retreats many of them where there is room for silence 
and time for thought. And in an age of premature self-expres 
sion, where so much green fruit is brought to market and, strange 
to say, actually marketed, we remember with relief that there are 
many who have welcomed the advice of Chrysostom, approved 
and followed and passed on by Sir William Osier: 

"Depart from the highway and transplant thyself in some 
enclosed ground, for it is hard for a tree that stands by the way 
side to keep her fruit till it be ripe." 



United States Senator 

IN a recent statement, Mr. George R. James, now a member 
of the Federal Reserve Board, warned against the "morphine of 
credit". No one will question that opiates have their place 
in the medical world, but a practitioner of standing is careful in 
their use, and knows how easily the drug habit is contracted, and 
the after effect of too large, or too frequent doses. 

Sound credit practices need no defense, but there should be a 
factor of safety for the protection of the user. 

As in the case of a builder, who should have his tenants in 
mind, the installment seller should have the interests of the buyer 
in mind. State and municipal governments do not altogether 
trust the builder. They provide certain building codes to pro 
tect the owner. In the case of installment buying, unfortunately, 
no such protection is possible. 

It was not long ago that to run in debt was considered socially 
bad. It injured one's pride to be in debt, especially for the things 
used in the home. We have now dignified debt by calling it 
"consumer credit". There always was and still is sound con 
sumer's credit, but the present high-power salesmanship has 
caused the extension of this consumer's credit to have an entirely 
different meaning. It results in many of our people impoverish 
ing themselves in this day of greatest prosperity by flinging away 
every principle of sound thrift to follow this false mirage of con 
sumer's credit. All the euphemisms to the contrary, it is just 
plain "running in debt", and the more this idea is kept to the 
front, the healthier for everyone. 

Many protagonists of consumer credit write clever articles, 
perhaps sincerely, but led astray by the urgency of their own 
welfare and the advancement of the interest entrusted to them. 
We must consider whether such a person is able to give an un 
prejudiced opinion, or expresses reactions which events and 


conditions create in him. It is equally true that we must know 
the general qualifications of a critic of this orgy of installment 
buying: his general knowledge and his experience. 

It is admitted by able economists that there are no really 
authentic statistics relating to this subject. I will not attempt 
to seize the many estimates bearing upon the volume of install 
ment sales and present them here, but those who are interested in 
estimates can find plenty, although none can be verified. 

There never was an inflation or financial orgy that was not 
stoutly defended and speciously explained, right up to the very 
moment of trouble. There are none so blind now that can not 
see the follies of 1925 which occurred in the Florida situation. 
Merchants confess they are beginning to repossess more and more 
goods because of non-payment. 

This pledging of wages and salaries long in advance of having 
been earned is doing great harm, to young men and women in 
particular. It is breaking down character, and resistance to 
temptations, to extravagance and to living beyond their means. 
It is in many cases breeding dishonesty. Many young people 
get their first experience of being "dead beats" through yielding 
to temptations that are placed before them. Many a clerk that 
should be saving his "nest egg" is making payments on a car he 
cannot afford. Many a family is paying installments on radios 
and phonographs, who should be saving for old age or for periods 
of illness and misfortune. Many a working man, clerical or 
shopman, if laid off at the end of the month would not be able to 
meet the next month's installments on his purchases. 

Governor Fuller, of Massachusetts, in writing a Thanksgiving 
Day proclamation, protested against the self-indulgence of the 
present generation. He feared that the hand of fate may strike 
from us our legacy of extravagant leisure and force us to think 
more of things we have forgotten, like truth, duty, and sacrifice. 

There are two incidents in my boyhood which present them 
selves forcibly. I recall that about forty years ago our whole 
family saved for some time to enable my father to purchase an oil 
hanging lamp for the living room. We anticipated possessing this 
lamp and had great joy in purchasing it after we had saved 
enough. Again, my father owned horses, not riding horses but 


truck horses, and I wanted a riding saddle for one of them. 
To secure this I was required to sell enough of my father's product 
on a commission basis to earn the price of the saddle. I shall 
never forget the joy of accomplishment when that end had been 

All of this pleasure, this appreciation of something gained, this 
opportunity to develop the traits of self-control and perseverance, 
this opportunity to build character, are now being lost to the 
young people, because what they want they can nearly always get 
at once, without sacrifice, for a small down payment. 

Admission is made of unsound practices in 1925, but it is 
asserted by finance companies that such mistakes are being 
corrected. Mr. J. H. Tregoe, executive manager of the National 
Association of Credit Men, made the statement that "Frequently 
innocent and perfectly laudable devices for the increase of dis 
tribution grow unconsciously until they become a dangerous 
menace . . . The whip handle in credit is held by him who has 
commodities to sell or funds to loan, and not by him who will 
exchange his credit for the commodity or the funds." 

Unwise selling means that in uncertain times, followed by 
unemployment, not only will our large volume of sales diminish, 
but the slow moving inventory would be increased by heavy 
repossessions, which in their turn would have to compete with 
the new merchandise in hand. 

I have had some opportunity to observe the buyer's experience. 
In one middle Western city of about one hundred thousand 
population, a banker reports that there are two thousand homes 
bought on installment for which the buyers are in arrears. Yet 
this is the most justifiable form of consumer credit. One small 
company in Detroit built sixty houses and sold them on the 
installment plan. Fifty-one buyers are behind in their payments. 

Every dollar the consumer pays for interest reduces his ability 
to buy merchandise. Every dollar sent out of the community 
to some finance corporation lessens the purchasing power of 
that community. 

One large organization made the following statement: "In 
vestigation has disclosed the fact that on the average in any com 
munity, ten per cent, of the people buy for cash, thirty per cent. 


on charge account, and sixty per cent, must buy on easy convenient 
terms." They contend that this is an argument for installment 
selling. If earnings must be mortgaged at excessive interest 
rates, it seems clear that some action should be taken. 
Mr. Henry Ford was recently quoted in a Detroit paper: 

There is too much debt for one thing; too much installment buying. We 
must learn to call credit by its real name debt. . . . When financiers flourish 
on credit, you may depend on it that plenty of other people are withering 
under debt. . . . The American home needs better business management. It 
should keep solvent and liberate itself from the pressure of high-powered sales 
manship reinforced by the installment lure. . . . Let the American home 
manage its affairs wisely and the country will be all right. 

A well-informed sales manager of eleven years' experience told 
me: "One outstanding fact lately noted is the increasing number 
of people who buy carelessly, satisfying every present whim of 
the appetite, without regard to the relationship of the obligation 
to their income and needs. These people, whatever their orig 
inal intent, come to regard their debts more lightly as they be 
come more burdened." 

I manufacture, for example, a sideboard. I create a desire for 
it, and then inform my prospect that it took eight days to manufac 
ture it. I then offer him the opportunity to labor eight days and 
promise to deliver the sideboard to him after that time. Then, 
he is not illusioned. On the other hand, if I told him he could 
have it now, in advance, provided he would work twelve days for 
it, explaining that the four extra days are to compensate me 
for interest and carrying charges, then it is an unfair barter, and I 
am simply trading on his cupidity and impatience of the moment. 

Let us take the relationship between installment buying and 
pawnbroking. The one is the converse of the other. When the 
moneyless man pawns an article for a fraction of its worth in cash, 
he sacrifices the value of the article and assumes a usurious obli 
gation to recover it, with the penalty of losing it upon default. 
This he knows, and he is better off because there is no glossing 
over the transaction. Yet, the same man will sacrifice the value 
of his cash (which yet must be earned) because of his impulsive 
desire to possess an article not of commensurate worth. When 
a man puts his iqeome "in hock" at a usurious rate in order to 

VQJj. (CjCXXIV. NO. 834 6 


gain an article he might do without, it is ridiculous to pretend 
that he is following sound economics. 

It is not intended to decry what perhaps ought to be called 
installment investing, such as the buying of homes, sound securi 
ties, and articles on which the buyer can earn a return. The 
slavery to which these over-extended buyers have subjected 
themselves does not receive much consideration. Many men 
have opportunity to change their position and thereby advance 
themselves, but are afraid to do so because they have so many 
installment obligations. Many men have an opportunity to 
make a small investment, but they can not do so because they 
have installment obligations . Between twenty-three and twenty- 
four years ago there was a group in Detroit, of which I was 
one, who had an opportunity to invest some money in the Ford 
Motor Company. Had we been tied up with obligations to pay 
for bicycles or pianos on the installment plan, we could not 
have availed ourselves of this opportunity with its well known 

Many investigations and studies are being made which may 
produce a mass of statistics, but I submit that none of these in 
vestigations will cover the viewpoint or the experience of the 
buyer; they will all be the experience and results of the seller. 
There is no way of going into the conditions of hardship, trial and 
suffering of people who have over-bought on the installment plan. 
No statistics on this will be available, but from a study of a cross- 
section of the people which I have had an opportunity to observe, 
the situation is very much worse than it should be. 

The cost of this installment selling to the buyer is not under 
stood, because there are so many methods of covering up the 
difference between a cash purchase and an installment purchase. 
And yet, many concerns charge the same price by either method. 
A Senator told me the other day that he wished to buy a set of 
books, and not caring to be bothered by the publisher, he had his 
secretary write to ask the cost. The price was given, with all of 
the installment veneer. The secretary wrote back and inquired 
the price for cash : the reply came that the price was the same for 
cash. In other words, the publisher could not afford to disclose, 
when he was selling mostly on the installment plan, what the real 


difference was between a cash and an installment sales transaction. 

Who maintains the overhead and expense, and creates the 
profit for the large number of finance companies? The buyers, of 
course. Mr. Clarence Y. Palitz, president of the Credit Alliance 
Corporation, stated in New York recently: "There are more than 
fifteen hundred organized finance companies and more than 
twenty -five hundred individuals dabbling in the finance business." 

On the last day of the old year the press told the story of the 
organization of a $31,000,000 company to be national in scope, 
for financing installment houses. This large finance corporation 
will make money. Who will supply the profits? The install 
ment buyer. In the announcement of the organization of this 
company it was said, among other things: "We have also found 
evidence of abuse in the methods of deferred payment sales which, 
if allowed to continue, will result in losses to the public, banks, 
and the credit finance companies." Nearly all of these proposals 
are intended for the protection of the seller. Thousands and 
thousands of people are employed by and making a living out of 
these finance companies. They return substantial profits on the 
enormous amount of money invested. Who pays it? The 
installment buyer. 

There was published recently by The Portland Oregonian, a sur 
vey of the United States on installment buying which contained 
astonishing results. The share of workingmen's future wages 
mortgaged for purchases on the deferred payment plan was 
thirty-nine per cent. Who has obtained the viewpoint and ex 
perience of this thirty -nine per cent, of the workingmen? No one. 
The sellers could tell of their heart-rending experiences with many 
of these buyers: But that would injure their business. Another 
striking outcome of this survey was that of the total, twenty-eight 
per cent, went for homes, thirty -five per cent, for automobiles, nine 
per cent, for clothing, and eighteen per cent, for furniture, wash 
ing machines, and household necessities. Thus it will be observed 
that nearly twice as many people buy automobiles on the install 
ment basis as buy household equipment. 

From the standpoint of character, sound economics, honesty 
and integrity, the weight of argument is overwhelmingly in favor 
of restricted selling on the installment basis. 



Director for the East, International Health Board 

WHAT means has civilization employed to rebuild the industrial 
cripple? Suppose a stenographer were injured in a motor acci 
dent at Times Square, crushing a hand or fracturing a leg, what 
chance has such a person to have the same use of the member as 
before the accident? What assurance have the injured of the 
vast armies employed by the railways and manufacturing plants 
that they will have the greatest degree of restoration that the best 
treatment can give? What protection is the citizen of the future 
to have against the increasing pollution of the atmosphere by 
motor car fumes? Scores have already died from this cause and 
thousands have had their health impaired. The Health Com 
mittee of the New York Academy of Medicine has shown that in 
sections of New York City where motor car traffic is heavy, the 
air is already sufficiently vitiated to endanger health and even life. 
It is almost a daily occurrence for people to be killed in their own 
inadequately ventilated garages by the poisonous gases generated 
and confined in the process of warming up the engine. Or to 
speak of minor accidents, suppose a passenger in a street car or 
train receives a gash in the face from broken glass, what are the 
chances of restoration without a disfiguring scar? What are the 
chances of securing the complete use of fingers that have been 
crushed in a door? These and a thousand other accidents are 
occurring daily. 

In the United States alone some 20,000 persons are killed 
annually by motor cars and another 16,000 in railroad accidents, 
to say nothing of the many thousands who lose their lives in in 
dustrial plants. As the number of injured is many times greater 
than the number of deaths, it is obvious that there are millions 
constantly being disabled. Since the accidents are likely to con 
tinue, everything should be done to restore the injured to normal 
or as nearly normal as modern methods can achieve. Many of 


these injuries are so serious in their ultimate results that literally 
thousands are being made dependents instead of resuming their 
rightful places as producers in the community. That in itself is 
very serious. The main emphasis of course should be placed on 
prevention, but even after everything that is humanly possible 
has been done, there will still remain a vast number to be cared 
for, an appreciable loss in producers. 

In the past some of these losses have in part been replaced by 
the heavy flow of immigration. As restricted immigration is 
likely to continue, this form of replacement will be operative to a 
lesser degree. But even granting that it were operative, what 
about the individual himself? Is not an injured person entitled 
to the fullest possible degree of restoration that modern knowl 
edge can provide? Shall we continue to allow persons to go 
through life needlessly crippled, sentenced to dependency and 
loss of self-respect? 

The medical profession has already, in part, met the need for 
relief in the development of industrial surgery as well as through 
the progress of modern medicine. During the four years of the 
World War tremendous strides were made in the restoration of 
the injured, thus enabling them rapidly to resume then* places in 
the line. Literally hundreds of thousands were restored to duty, 
who under the surgical technique employed in other wars would 
have remained permanently disabled or would have been in 
capacitated for service for a long time. 

Much of this knowledge came quickly to the relief of the 
injured in civil life, but through lack of organized effort many mil 
lions are yet deprived of the best that can be done for them. 
Furthermore, since the overwhelming urge of war is no longer 
present, progress has slowed up. Much specialized relief is avail 
able, but vastly more is needed. For example, during the War 
there was established in New York a hospital intended primarily 
to give the American soldier, quickly, the very latest improved 
methods of relief, and after that was no longer necessary the facili 
ties were extended to meet the needs of the civil population. But 
there should be a chain of such hospitals throughout the United 
States where the best available knowledge could be applied to the 
care of the large number of disabled. Such hospitals would also 


serve the purpose of disseminating knowledge of the best methods 
of treatment to the medical profession of the areas in which they 
are located. 

Although the great industrial expansion in the United States 
brings with it a steadily increasing number of accidents, these are 
being proportionately reduced through the safeguards that are 
continuously developed. For instance, among persons engaged 
in the match industry in the United States, there occurred, in 
years past, a revolting rotting of the jaws and bones which has 
now entirely disappeared through the employment of phosphor 
ous in a harmless form. In China where these precautions are 
not taken, such cruel mutilations are still occurring. Painters 
and others engaged in industries in which lead is used suffered 
from poisoning which caused serious physical impairment and 
often produced what is technically called wrist-drop; thus many 
were prevented from following their normal occupations. Now, 
through proper precautions, such untoward results have largely 
disappeared. In factories where formerly employees were fre 
quently scalped by being caught in unprotected belts or were 
crushed in unprotected gears, safeguards against such accidents 
are now provided in the form of simple devices. But, notwith 
standing these different lines of progress in the field of prevention, 
for the thousands who are still in need of relief it is necessary to 
disseminate the knowledge available and provide research so that 
restoration of function may constantly be improved. The sad 
fact is that millions are still being injured and are in need of more 
adequate relief. 

How is that relief to come? It is fairly obvious that the busy 
surgeons and physicians in the general hospital or in private prac 
tice, who are called upon to deal with a thousand and one other 
conditions not due to accidents, have little time to devote to 
meeting the special requirements of those so injured. Experience 
has shown that if constructive progress in restoration is to be 
made, the resources of chemistry, physics, electricity, bacteriol 
ogy, and other sciences must be invoked. Much of the great 
progress attained in dealing with the injuries incident to the 
World War was made through the combined efforts of the 
doctor, the physicist, the physical director, the mechanic, the 


electrician, the engineer, the psychologist, the factory foreman, 
the nurse, the social worker, and many others. With the passing 
of the stimulus of the common purpose of the war, satisfactory 
progress is no longer being made. It is true, a few hospitals 
have struggled desperately to carry on this vitally important 
work. The immediate need is for more adequate resources in 
order that at least one hospital may develop continually im 
proving methods and perhaps establish the leadership which is 
so urgently required. 

An attempt of course has been made to meet the situation. 
Many of the large industrial plants, railroads, and other agencies, 
have established special dispensaries and even hospitals for the 
benefit of their employees. But all too frequently the needed 
specialization is absent. And so much more could be done if 
there could be a few central places where personnel could re 
ceive training and have access to the combined experiences of 
the nation's resources. In other words, there is lack of co 
ordination of all that could be made available. Much greater 
progress could be expected if all branches of human knowledge 
could be focused upon the best procedure for relief. 

An institution in which that could be done would not only offer 
the most promising hope for discpvery of the best methods, but it 
would serve as a fountainhead from which all those engaged in 
treating the injured could draw their knowledge. For example, 
today the methods of treating sprained ankle are almost as 
numerous as the doctors who treat it. There is likely one way to 
treat the great majority of sprained ankles in the most effective 
manner in the shortest possible time. Or again, in the case of a 
simple fracture of the leg, cannot modern science reduce the eight 
weeks' stay in bed to one of four weeks ? If a hospital could, for a 
given period, devote its entire resources to the study of a certain 
injury, admitting only such cases, and thereby gain a huge ex 
perience in a short time, the chances of discovering the best way to 
treat that injury could be greatly enhanced. Such experience 
could be quickly disseminated and could immediately become 
part of the equipment of those who are engaged in dealing 
with injuries. If that could be made possible, it would be but a 
short time until similar hospitals would be established at indus- 


trially strategic centres throughout the nation, and improved 
methods of treatment would be adopted quickly by the medical 
profession. But the stern fact is, there is as yet no institution 
which has such resources. 

Let us see the extent of the problem that is to be faced. It is 
impossible to obtain accurate figures for the total number of acci 
dents, but some idea of the size of the problem may be gained 
from the workmen's compensation cases reported by the State of 
New York: 

Permanent Permanent 

Total Deaths total partial Temporary 

cases disability disability disability 

1924 24,394 362 9 7,491 16,532 

1925 49,482 484 3 7,592 41,403 

During 1925 the compensation for the above listed disability 
amounted to $27,854,726. This is only a part of the cost for 
these cases; it does not include medical cost, non-compensated 
wage cost, loss in labor turnover, insurance, etc. But the other 
accidents not included in the tabulation are tremendous in the 
aggregate. For instance, in New York City alone a thousand or 
more persons are killed yearly by motor cars; the injured are 
many times that number. The total loss in New York State, 
where every minute two industrial workers are injured, is easily 
well over a hundred million dollars. But New York has only a 
part of the injured of the United States. The following quotation 
from a recent number of The Journal of the American Medical 
Association brings additional information: 

Official Announcement of Automobile Fatalities. The U. S. Department of 
Commerce announces that during 1925 there were 17,571 accidental deaths 
charged to automobiles and other motor vehicles, excluding motorcycles, in the 
registration area of the United States. These do not include accidents due to 
collisions of automobiles with street cars and railroad trains, which caused 498 
and 1,266 deaths, respectively. When added to the above number, this makes 
a grand total of 19,335 deaths from accidents in which automobiles were in 
volved. The death rate from this cause was 18.8 per hundred thousand of 
population. The registration area included only 89.4 per cent, of the total 
population of the United States in 1925; assuming that the same rate would 
apply to the entire population of the country, the total number of fatalities 
would be 21,627. In thirty^four States for which data is available for the five 


year period, 1921 to 1925, the death rates from automobile accidents increased 
from 11.4 to 17.4 per hundred thousand, and in sixty-six cities for which similar 
data is available, the rate increased from 15.8 to 21.2. Some deaths are 
charged to cities, although the accidents occurred outside the cities' limits, the 
victims having been rushed to hospitals within the corporate limits. 

Other figures for the nation are also startling. Some 2,000 
persons are killed annually at grade crossings and over 7,000 are 
seriously injured. In the American Expeditionary Force during 
the World War, for instance, there were 74,407 casualties. In the 
United States in one year alone, (1925) 675,000 persons were 
injured in automobile accidents and more than 2,520,000 indus 
trial workers were hurt. This means that a total of over 
3,195,000 persons had broken bones, torn muscles, and lacerated 
tissues. The foregoing represents a total yearly cost to the 
American people of probably well over a billion dollars. How 
ever, the real loss can only in part be measured in dollars, for the 
vastly greater consideration is the suffering and unhappiness of 
the handicapped. It is idle to question whether the mad rush for 
material gain and for pleasure is worth leaving a trail of dead and 
crippled of such astounding proportions, or whether innocent 
victims should continue to be injured and killed. It can safely be 
assumed that these conditions will continue. Under the most 
favorable circumstances years would be required to bring about 
a change. In the meantime the victims of accidents must be 
adequately cared for. 

In order to have a clearer understanding of the requirements 
of a hospital to restore the injured to health and service, it may 
not be amiss to describe some of the features of the Reconstruc 
tion Hospital in New York. This new type of institution com 
bines the facilities of a modern hospital, the hyper-gymnasium 
and workshop, opportunities for play, and above everything else 
a staff of doctors who have special training and experience in the 
injuries with which they are to deal. 

Now what are some of its special features? Foremost comes 
physical therapy, which includes mechano-therapy or the use of 
various machines and mechanical devices, the use of water, 
light, heat, electricity, massage, and combinations of the various 
forces of nature. Occupational therapy is an important adjunct 


to healing. In the purely mechanical field most ingenious 
adaptations have been made. The principle of the band brake, 
commonly used in the automobile, has been invoked. Employ 
ment of this has been a vast step in advance. Up to the time of 
the World War manipulations to restore the injured were usually 
made with weights over pulleys. This, however, gave exercise in 
only one direction. The band brake has the advantage of having 
the same resistance going and coming. For instance, in the limbs 
there is one set of muscles to move them in one direction and an 
opposing set to move them back again flexion and extension. 
Today the function of stiffened fingers and joints is more effec 
tively restored by the use of machines employing the band brake, 
which gives needed resistance for both flexion and extension. 

The question naturally arises, How can improvement be made 
in restoring the vast number of injured persons to the greatest 
possible degree of usefulness ? Experience has clearly shown that, 
whether in industry or in medicine, the greatest hope for improve 
ment lies in research. This means that not only must extensive 
hospital space be provided so that the greatest possible number of 
a particular kind of accident case may be studied at one time, 
but also that the resources of a modern research laboratory must 
be available. 

Such laboratories could be established in connection with a 
special hospital for the injured, or many of the facilities already 
existing in universities might be utilized. For instance, if a prob 
lem in nutrition were to be solved it might be assigned to the 
university nutrition laboratory, or other aid could be obtained 
from the departments of pathology, bacteriology, electricity, 
mechanics, and chemistry. Collateral aid might be had from 
practical minded nurses, internes, and fertile-minded geniuses. 
But all these facilities cannot be had without money. A country 
that has sprung into industrial leadership surely ought to be 
willing to meet the obligations that are attendant upon it. Can 
it possibly be so blind as not to provide the resources to meet the 
obligation? Science has already done much and is ready to do 
more, but it must be furnished with the sinews with which to 
carry on the work. 



WHAT feature in rural England most strikes the travelling 
American, landing for the first time at an English port say 
Southampton, or Liverpool and thence proceeding to London by 
train, or perhaps starting off in a car on a leisurely tour? I think 
I shall be right in saying that, from mid-April to October, and 
more especially in May and June, he or she will revel in the fresh 
green on every side, in the country houses, farms and picturesque 
villages which are so constantly seen, but more particularly in the 
hedges and hedgerow timber. Where else can one get such a 
wonderful landscape view as, for instance, from Edge Hill in 
Warwickshire looking over the Kineton country, from the Cots- 
wolds adjoining the vale of Stratford-on-Avon, again from the 
Cotswolds ridge above Broadway in Worcestershire (both the 
latter places so well known to Americans) ; from Belvoir Castle, 
the home of the Duke of Rutland; or from scores of other points 
of vantage in nearly every county? I am certain that American 
visitors will agree that it is the hedges and their trees which, in 
summer, constitute a feature in the English landscape which is 
not found in any other country. They are the result of our cli 
mate, and our system of farming and land tenure, the land having 
in the past been mostly rented and not owned by the occupiers, 
who are precluded from felling timber without the consent of the 

I am referring, of course, to rural England and not of the indus 
trial portions such as large tracts of Lancashire and the West 
Riding of Yorkshire, the "Black Country" of the Midlands, some 
of our principal coal fields, and the neighborhood of our great 
cities which, more and more, extend the area covered by their 
houses, trams and smoke. I think myself that our British land 
scape will gradually suffer as the result of the sales of the last 


twelve years. Moving about the country, I see much felling of 
the hedgerow timber which the new owners too often turn into 
cash in order to reduce charges on the land. In too many in 
stances the speculating purchasers of an old estate and mansion 
have sold the park and woods to a timber merchant who has cut 
them down ruthlessly. If this sort of thing goes too far, there 
will be a timber famine in the land in twenty years' time, and 
many of our rural beauty spots and views will be things of the 
past. England is undoubtedly altering very rapidly, mainly 
through changes of ownership caused by heavy death duties and 
current taxation, coupled with increased cost of living and of 
repairs as results of the Great War. During the last twenty years 
the habits and pursuits of people have become very different from 
what they were, mainly through the spread of education, im 
proved communications, mechanical traction and other modern 
inventions which all develop new requirements. The changes 
seem to be progressing much more rapidly in this overcrowded 
island than in other European countries, which have mostly been 
wise enough not to sacrifice their agriculture for urban votes, and 
have remembered the undoubted fact that no nation can be last 
ingly strong and prosperous without a numerous and healthy rural 

With the exception of the great straight military roads made 
by the Romans about eighteen hundred years ago, there were few 
roads that ran straight for half a mile, or even a few hundred 
yards, till we were forced by increased motor developments to 
adopt our present policy of new arterial roads, combined with the 
straightening out of old ones. Our picturesque twisting roads and 
lanes are, without doubt, evolved from the old tracks, originally 
foot and cattle paths, meandering through forests and marshes, 
turning here and there in old days to avoid a tree, a rock, a 
boggy hole or some other obstruction. These gradually became 
the regular tracks followed by pack horses and travellers, whose 
only mode of locomotion was the horse or humbler quadruped. 
Little by little, as wheeled vehicles developed, the roads responded, 
but mostly retained their sinuous character. As the necessity for 
improved roads increased, so their care and maintenance devolved 
on the adjacent localities, and gradually became a charge fastened 


on the agriculturist. These charges became so onerous that at 
last, and not so many years ago, considerable grants from national 
taxation had to be given to relieve local rates; but, even now, the 
local people have to bear a most unfair share of this serious item. 
I am reminded forcibly of the marvellous improvements in com 
munications whenever I motor the ninety miles from my old 
Warwickshire home to London. It is situated in the centre of 
England, near "High Cross" one of our estate farms which 
is the point of intersection of the two great Roman roads Wat- 
ling Street from Dover to London and Chester, and the Fosse Way 
from Bath across the Midlands to Lincolnshire. Forty-five miles 
from London on the Watling Street road, where it is spanned by 
the bridge carrying the main line of the London, Midland and 
Scottish Railway to the North, is a solitary little inn bearing the 
name of Denbigh Hall. How different are modern conditions 
from those prevailing when my old great-great-grandfather, the 
sixth Earl of Denbigh, who died in 1800, used to rumble slowly 
and uncomfortably along this road to London in his ponderous 
coach ! One day a wheel came off in the mud near this inn, then 
known as the "Marquis of Granby ", and, putting up there for the 
night, he was made so comfortable that he forthwith appointed 
it his half-way house to London, and the name was changed to its 
present one. On one occasion when he was there the landlord 
presented his nephew, a boy of thirteen, and asked if he might do 
Lady Denbigh's portrait. The lad produced an excellent little 
picture, about sixteen inches high, in crayons, and it now hangs in 
our hall at Newnham Paddox. He grew up to be the great painter, 
Sir Thomas Lawrence, in whose life it is recorded how, at that age, 
he used often to do the portraits of travellers at the old posting 
houses, one of which, on the Bath road, was his home. 

I wonder whether American visitors appreciate the changes 
also proceeding in English country life, and the extent to which 
the old landowning families, from the small country squire to the 
possessor of great estates, were formerly all bound up in the life 
of the country? The County business used to be carried on 
almost entirely under their supervision as Magistrates, and this 
included the police, the roads and bridges, the care of lunatics, 
reformatories and prisons, sanitation and drainage schemes, and 


along with the Poor Law Guardians the relief of the poor and 
care of workhouses. All this has been greatly altered during the 
past forty years since the constitution of elected County and 
District Councils and Guardians, in accordance with the spirit of 
the times and the spread of education and popular responsibility. 
No doubt the work is now done more efficiently in many respects, 
but whether more value is got for the enormous expenditure is 
another matter. The old people did not do it badly. There was 
rarely a whisper of corrupt practices, and, like the present County 
and District Councillors, they received no pay. Then again, it 
is the landowners who can claim to have created the real value 
of English agricultural land by fencing, draining, road-making and 
the erection and maintenance of farm houses, buildings and cot 
tages. I think it is generally accepted that the present value of 
agricultural land hardly ever represents even the bare cost of 
what are known as "landlord's improvements", the actual soil 
being regarded as nil. 

It is mainly to certain of the great landowners of the past and 
some of the richer farmers that we are indebted for the develop 
ment and establishment of our magnificent pedigreed cattle strains 
from which have been built up the great herds on the prairies of 
North and South America and the British Dominions that now 
supply the world with meat. The same can justly be said with 
regard to thoroughbred horses, sheep, pigs, etc. Go to a cattle 
show in the Middle West, and what are the leading types found 
there? Herefords, Polled Angus, Shorthorns and other British 
strains all the product at one time or another of British exported 
sires, bred mainly from the stock of the landowning class as the 
result of steady and continued expenditure of care and money. 
The modern Socialist ranter, who is probably as appreciative of 
good meat at moderate prices as anybody else, forgets all this 
when he mounts his soap box and denounces the landowner as the 
selfish grabber who has robbed the poor and done nothing for the 
country. What State Department would ever have developed 
the breeds of farm stock in a way comparable to that effected by 
private enterprise? 

When I walk through the streets of London and see the "even 
ing" papers being sold at ten A.M., solely as the result of the latest 


racing tips sent in by their various "infallible prophets" who, as 
is well known, are frequently such a source of income to the book- 
making fraternity, and when I see the scramble for the afternoon 
editions and note the smiles or long faces of the readers as they 
scan the list of winners I think things . . . Who are they who 
seem mostly interested? The ones who can least afford to incur 
losses the working men, the small clerks, the shop girls and the 
thousands whose stake has perhaps not exceeded a shilling or two, 
or perhaps half-a-crown. Go to a Socialist meeting and note 
the cheers that greet denunciations of the rich who, according to 
the speakers, invariably squander the whole of their wealth in 
"ostentatious luxury" while the poor starve. (I am quoting 
from a speech now in front of me.) These same individuals, or 
most of them, were probably chasing news boys not long before to 
learn the result of "the 2.30" or some other race. They are 
examples of the way in which racing and gambling have taken 
hold of all classes in these days. How many of them in their 
howls of denunciation against "the rich" ever consider that if it 
was not for the presence among us of men rich enough to carry 
on the most expensive and often highly disappointing and un 
profitable sports of horse breeding and racing, there would be no 
racing unless it were carried on by a State Department? What 
doors for political roguery that would open as if there were not 
enough already in other directions ! Political Ministers of Racing, 
political trainers, political jockeys, political pressure to obtain 
the latest tips, political "scratching" and political "pulling" 
one's brain reels at the thought! Where would our racing be 
today, where would the racing in any other country be, if it were 
not for the strains of British and Irish thoroughbreds that have 
more or less permeated every civilized nation that indulges in this 
great sport? Whom have we got to thank for the British and 
Irish thoroughbreds if it is not the old landowning families, who 
in those days were the chief people who maintained the breeding 
studs carrying many a famous name? 

Take agriculture generally; our most important industry. 
What state of backwardness should we now be in if, in the past, 
we had been simply dependent on the small farmer, and if the old 
landowners, like the famous "Coke of Norfolk", had not set the 


example and found the money for costly experiments and develop 
ments? The old landowning class of these islands has played a 
greater part in bringing them to the position they occupy in the 
world than many nowadays give them credit for; and my reason 
for indulging in all these reflections is that the gradual but steady 
disappearance of that class is bound to have an effect which is 
worthy of more than just a passing consideration. 

Much land in Britain has been sold in recent years and the 
process may be said to have developed more intensely after the 
great Liberal victory at the General Election of 1905. This re 
sulted in a heavy increase of death duties and in the intense cam 
paign initiated, solely for political purposes, against landowners, 
which culminated in the futile attempt at the taxation of land 
values in the budget of 1909-10. This precious legislation 
started the house famine which was soon afterward intensified 
by the War. It frightened the speculative building trade, and 
the average number of houses built annually promptly dropped 
about fifty per cent. After doing much harm and no visible good, 
beyond providing jobs for taxation officials, this attempt at the 
taxation of land values was dropped in 1920 as costing more than 
it was worth. During the War, farmers made so much money that 
a land boom set in, which reached its climax in the summer of 
1920 and then began to wane. The breaking up of many estates 
resulted, the farms being purchased mostly by the occupiers. 
After 1919 the heavy taxation and the great rise in wages and the 
cost of living became a serious burden to all. But the effects were 
most acutely felt by the land owning class, with the result that 
country houses and estates all over the country have come into 
the market to an astonishing extent. Many great country homes 
have been sold and purchased at low figures, for the purpose of 
schools, orphanages, convalescent homes, institutions, religious 
houses, hotels, country clubs, golf courses, and for many other 
purposes. Quite a few have been dismantled and pulled down 
simply for the lead on the roofs and what could be utilized as 
building materials. Others have been bought by men who made 
money in the War and were attracted by what they thought was 
the social position and eclat which attached to such possessions, 
or by the shooting, fishing or hunting amenities provided by the 


property and the neighborhood. Some of these people, after 
spending much money installing electric light and all modern 
requirements, have found that "the game was not worth the 
candle" and have cleared out again, very likely not realizing 
even the cost of the improvements effected. Their predecessors 
were probably a family that had owned the property for genera 
tions, and were regarded with respect and affection by the neigh 
borhood where they were the social leaders, always to the front in 
any local effort for the enjoyment or betterment of their less for 
tunate friends and dependents. Rents were often unduly low, 
cottages were provided for the people to live in, with the result 
that, as taxation and costs of living and repairs increased, the net 
income became seriously reduced and in too many cases resulted 
in a dead loss. There was the five thousand acre estate of 
Tulliallan in Scotland that had been purchased by the late Sir 
James Sievewright, a well known South African, prior to the War. 
On his death it had to be sold, but no offer was received. At 
length a purchaser was found, but only on condition that the 
large and well appointed house was thrown in for nothing, the 
money paid representing merely the agricultural value of the land 
and woods. One well known Scottish Peer has just told me how, 
in order to balance the income with the outgoings on his estate of 
three thousand acres, he had last year to find six hundred pounds 
from other sources to make up the deficit. 

The new owners, in many cases hard headed men who had had 
to fight their way up, rather naturally proceeded to regard the 
possession of agricultural land and cottages as being economic 
propositions. Rents were raised and people generally came to 
realize that life under the new owner was not what it had been 
before, and friction and unpleasantness resulted. On the other 
hand there are many cases where a rich man has bought a property 
that had been starved and neglected, and has proceeded to lay 
out his money in a way that brought many local benefits. It is 
difficult to generalize where the results are in the main dependent 
on individual temperament. The one fact remains, that the old 
country estates that so largely constituted rural England as we 
have known it, continue to be sold and very frequently broken up, 
and what the result of all this will be, time alone will tell. 

VOL. ccxxiv. NO. 834 7 


Very inadequate consideration is often given to one class of 
people greatly affected by these property sales. I refer to the 
laborers and cottagers on an old estate that is broken up. In 
many cases these people, if they have a little money saved, have 
been able to buy their homes; that is all to the good in these days, 
when property owners in the humbler ranks of life constitute a 
great element of stability. Too often however, these cottages are 
bought, three or four together, by local tradesmen, artizans and 
small investors who have saved some money, and with whom 
cottage property is a favorite form of investment. They, of 
course, regard it as a purely economic proposition, exacting the 
utmost rent, which is very promptly collected, while spending as 
little as possible on repairs. Some of the worst landlords I know 
are men of this type, and the laborers often find that life is very 
different from what it was under the old dispossessed family. 

It can hardly be to the advantage of the country districts to 
wipe out steadily all the people with old associations as is now 
being done, mainly by the burdensome death duties. This has 
been recognized to some extent by Parliament, and the duties levied 
on the death of an owner are on a lower scale if not more than 
five years have elapsed since the previous death. Notwithstand 
ing this, however, two or certainly three deaths^entailing a change 
of ownership will sever a family from an estate unless the former 
is possessed of other means, or saved by large life policies. These 
again, unless taken out early in life, generally mean heavy pre 
miums which greatly reduce the landowner's income. Apart 
from all this, country-house life in itself, as we have known it in 
the past, has greatly changed and will change still more. Estates 
are more and more passing into the hands of successful com 
mercial men who perhaps use them for residences from which 
they can reach their business centres by motor, or else maintain 
them for week-end shooting parties and little else. 

Country houses and estates, of course, have been continually 
changing hands to a certain extent, though not for "breaking 
up". There is an estate adjoining mine in Warwickshire which 
used to belong to the Skipwiths an old county family. The last 
to own it was Sir Grey Skipwith, who had a family of twenty-two 
by one wife. There is a story of somebody meeting him out 


walking one day and greeting him with "Well, Skip with, how's 
the family?" "Oh, fifteen of them have colds the rest are 
pretty well, thanks!" I remember one of my uncles telling me 
how he once stayed there when a young man and, finding a house 
party of forty -four, he gradually discovered that he was the only 
member of the party that was neither a son, son-in-law, daughter 
or daughter-in-law. That family broke the Skipwiths, and the 
property has had several different owners since. On my adjoin 
ing estate our family has been nearly six hundred years, descend 
ing the whole time from father to son except in the case of the 
second Earl of Denbigh, who joined the Parliament side in the 
Civil Wars, fought at the Battle of Edge Hill against his father 
(who was mortally wounded the following week when trying to 
raid Birmingham under Prince Rupert) and, having married four 
times without issue, was succeeded by a nephew. In our neigh 
borhood is Ashby St. Legers, now the seat of Lord Wimborne, 
and well known as closely connected with Guy Fawkes and the 
Gunpowder Plot. At Broughton Castle near Banbury is the 
isolated tower room at the end of the Battlements where Crom 
well and his Generals met in preparing their plan of campaign, 
with no possibility of being overheard or interrupted. 

At the wonderful old Tudor house, Bramshill, in Hampshire, as 
in other homes of like nature, one sees many relics of the Crom- 
wellian soldiers who were billeted there. What with Civil War 
associations, priests' hiding-places, spots where some historical 
murder was committed, like the well at Berkeley Castle down 
which King Edward II was thrown, being then hauled up and 
stabbed when it was found he was not dead, and other reminis 
cences, one appreciates how the country houses were connected 
with the history of England. In many counties one finds houses 
in which are beds where either Queen Elizabeth, James I or 
Cromwell slept. One of these is beautiful old Wroxton Abbey, 
near Banbury, the home of the venerable Lord North, who is 
locally beloved as the upholder of all sports and the best traditions 
of a country gentleman. The well-being of every person on his 
estate is to him a matter of personal interest and I can hardly pic 
ture a new commercial millionaire following adequately in his 
footsteps. At Wroxton is a magnificent example of the work of 


ladies of the Elizabethan period and the exquisite coverlet and 
curtains worked by her Ladies-in-Waiting are still on the bed 
where the Great Queen slept. The Dukes of Buccleuch were 
large landowners of the best type and owned some six or 
seven large estates in England and Scotland, most of which 
have, I think, been sold in recent years. One of them, of 
several thousand acres of good agricultural land, was at Dun- 
church, near Rugby, in my neighborhood. The land was well 
farmed and everything was well looked after and kept in good 
repair and the people on the estate were glad to have the Duke 
as a landlord. During the War he received an offer for the 
estate and agreed to sell on receiving an assurance that the 
purchaser desired it for residential purposes and was not one of 
the speculating syndicates that were doing much harm buying 
properties and then promptly raising the rents of the existing 
tenants of farms and cottages preparatory to a sale. When too 
late, and to the Duke's great annoyance, it was discovered that 
there was such a syndicate at the back of the purchaser and rents 
were forthwith raised all round to the indignation of the neigh 
borhood. On the estate being broken up in lots and offered at 
auction in a local hall, there was such a disturbance that the sale 
had to be abandoned. Later on, most of the tenants came to an 
agreement to buy their holdings, which in some cases had been 
held by several generations of the same family, but they had to 
pay high prices or lose their homes. 

It is difficult to say how much land has been sold of recent 
years, as there is no official record. One of the largest firms of 
real estate agents informs me that they have sold well over 1,000,- 
000 acres of agricultural land since 1919. They are only one of 

I do not believe that the great mass of our population in the 
least realizes the effects of what I have called attention to. It 
was perhaps inevitable that great changes of circumstances 
should make themselves felt among the land owning classes of 
England, but we must not repine or indulge in useless recrimina 
tions. There is only one duty before us and that is for all to 
unite and work for the general good of our country and for im 
provements in the happiness, prosperity and comfort of all. 



Chairman, Continental and Commercial National Bank of Chicago 

A LITTLE more than six years ago the Mount Vernon Savings 
Bank, Washington, D. C., and the Brotherhood of Locomotive 
Engineers Cooperative National Bank, Cleveland, were organ 
ized. They were pioneers of the labor bank movement. The 
banking business is very old but organized labor is a new recruit 
in its ranks. 

A good many writers and others who discussed the subject 
tried to see in this new departure an effort to establish innumer 
able labor banks that would make heavy inroads on the business 
of other financial institutions. This view was unfortunate and 

The fact is sometimes overlooked that banks cannot be estab 
lished and operated merely in imitation of what somebody else 
has done, or for the purpose of changing the normal flow of 
deposits, loans and investments. Banking is too serious an 
undertaking for that. And bankers doubted that labor leaders 
entertained any such thoughts. Bankers generally were con 
fident that the investigations made by labor officials, with their 
intelligence and experience, must have convinced them that it 
would be unwise to locate additional banks where there might 
already be banks enough to meet the needs of the community. 

It is safe to assume, also, that the principal sponsors of labor 
banks were aware of the fact that banks are institutions of slow 
and laborious growth. The organizers should be credited with 
the knowledge that people hesitate to transfer accounts from a 
bank that has served them well and where they feel acquainted. 
There are lasting friendships in every business. And banks 
strive to serve their customers so acceptably as to hold their 
patronage and good will against all competitors. 

Of course the temptation to enter banking is great. It grows 
partly out of the well-known fact that some of the larger and older 


financial institutions show large earnings and pay handsome 
dividends. Success is always a lure. But men with sufficient 
intelligence to direct banking operations soon learn several 
important facts about profits if they try to manage a bank. 
They discover that big earnings and dividends are the result of 
cumulative efforts that have been put forth for many years, 
possibly by several generations of careful bankers by men who 
have painstakingly and gradually amassed large surplus funds 
which augment the earning power of their banks. Through 
honest dealings and hard work and through the exercise of 
vigilance over the financial affairs of their customers and friends, 
the officers of the older banks have attracted a clientele that can 
be acquired in no other way. It must be gained over a long 
series of years. Time and service bring a profitable class of 
business, a class that cannot be weaned away. Naturally such 
banks, favorably located, make a big percentage on their capital, 
or rather that part of their invested funds designated as "capital 
stock" which, incidentally, is not all the owners have risked in 
the business. 

Instead of fearing a nation-wide movement for the creation of 
labor banks and ruinous rivalry, the older bankers welcomed the 
new members of the fraternity. For the most part they were 
friendly. They could see that much good probably would come 
from the broadening influence which the labor banks would have. 

There was hopeful promise in labor's entrance into the field of 
banking. It would bring those who are most powerful in mould 
ing the opinions of this large body of Americans into direct 
contact with the practical, serious side of financial affairs. It 
would teach the necessity of careful scrutiny, caution and a sense 
of responsibility in the management of other people's money. 
It would be imparting this knowledge in a practical way. Early 
they would learn that handling money which belongs to their 
depositors requires that loans and investments be made only to 
legitimate, sound and prosperous enterprises not to schemes 
which, when dressed in the fanciful language of the promoter, 
look brighter than new silver dollars, but which too often, in fact 
almost always, fade into thin air when tested by actual experi 
ence. They would learn, also, that there are legitimate pro- 


motions and that these should be financed by agencies existing 
for that purpose, but not by the banks. Another important fact 
which experience would disclose is that, despite the best judgment 
bankers can use, they suffer losses through the failure of borrow 
ing customers and excess earnings must be set aside to meet these 

The influence of the labor banks cannot be other than benefi 
cial. Anything that will bring capital and labor closer together 
will help to take fear and suspicion out of the industrial life of 
the nation. The more thoroughly workers understand the risks 
investors must assume in business, and the more fully business 
men become aware of the struggles and ambitions of employes, 
the more easily can differences be composed. Ownership and 
management of banks by labor will assist in arriving at a more 
genuinely sympathetic understanding of the problems of man 

Labor banks do not enjoy any greater latitude than other 
banks that are subject to the same jurisdiction. Those in the 
national system must conform to the same laws and regulations 
and submit to the same examinations as do other national banks. 
Such as hold State charters are under legal restrictions identical 
with those which apply to all other State banks doing business in 
the same State. All will be officially criticized for non-compliance 
with the law. 

The effect produced by labor banks has been what might have 
been expected. A great deal of excitement and enthusiasm can 
be worked up over some marvellous invention, some great reform, 
or a political question of intense public interest. It is never that 
way about business undertakings. After the passing of the first 
flush of public interest created by a new business venture, it is 
accepted as a matter of course and the public goes merrily on 
leaving the owners free to work out its destiny. 

This is true of banking as it is of any other business. And so 
far as results can be traced, the effect has been virtually the same 
as if a like number of banks with equal capital had been organized 
and operated in the same cities by capitalists. The progress of 
the latter would have been governed by the conservatism of the 
management and its ability to attract business. As a matter of 


fact, these influences did apply to the labor banks. But they 
were also able to make an appeal for loyalty to institutions 
fathered by labor leaders and were favored by concentration of 
union funds in labor banks. The profit sharing plan, under 
certain conditions, providing for a division of net earnings with 
depositors, probably attracted some customers to the labor banks 
who would not have done business with those otherwise desig 
nated. However, the labor bank movement has not revolution 
ized banking or even appreciably changed banking conditions in 
this country. Certainly it has not introduced hurtful competi 
tion. And I do not believe that intelligent labor leaders or 
bankers had any thought that it ever would do these things. 



THE tendency of politicians to be intimate with financiers has 
long been the occasion of sarcastic remark. But in days when 
private enterprise has opened up the possibilities of living to the 
masses, it is the capitalist who risks, who thinks, who directs 
not only for himself but for masses of poorer men. In the history 
of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries in Europe, there 
are indeed recurring and far too frequent evidences that the 
impresario whom Disraeli loved to identify with the Whig tra 
dition was constantly exploiting both his countrymen and others. 
And first the merchant, then the money-lender, then the manu 
facturer, appear to have been almost as impossible, or rather as 
unscrupulous, as the rich men who in France provoked the Reign 
of Terror. But the faults of the individual, or even of the system, 
will not obscure from the just observer the nature of the fact. 
For the capitalist, or rather the active capitalist of whom we 
speak more often as the business man, and the banker who adjusts 
the relations between the different activities of capital, represent 
the interests not only of rich men but of the people as a whole; 
and whether in politics a man inclines towards Socialism and De 
mocracy or whether he dislikes those words as suggesting the su 
premacy of governors other than the best men, he should carefully 
adjust his programme with the experience of the practical financier. 

But if neither of these have a strong enough sense of the soli 
darity of human society, or even of the good of their country, so 
that the interests of a group of men or of a party should take pre 
cedence in their schemes over larger interests than their own, 
there exists in the philosophies of morals and religion that moder 
ating principle which certain ill-informed politicians think to re 
place by the dictation of trades unions. Religion, and especially 
Christianity, when it solidifies from vagueness, self -righteousness 


or sentimentality into a fabric of dynamic thought, supplies hu 
man nature with a view of life as a whole directed towards perfec 
tion as an end, which enables it to coordinate the administration 
of social unities not only with their organized industry and trade 
but also with those laws by which life is lived. And from this 
point of view, the moral law is a categorical statement of the laws 
by which life functions. While the merchant discovers by experi 
ence that honesty pays him best, he might have anticipated that 
experience in accepting the commandment: Thou shalt not steal. 
The sanction is simply the last counsel of prudence. It insures 
the freedom of society to work on the amplest possible scale. 
Nothing would more quickly ruin a business than negligence, dis 
honesty, or contempt for other people's point of view. And in 
deed nothing is more necessary to the welfare not only of a 
business but of the whole business of a country than a grounding 
and an understanding of moral principles. 

It has been the experience of mankind that moral principles, 
though in certain cases they maintain themselves, do not thrive 
among communities from generation to generation unless con 
nected with religion. Only religion, which is a personal bond 
with the highest object of aspiration and affection, can interest 
the mind to explore the laws by which that supreme principle 
functions, and only religion, which identifies this supreme princi 
ple with a living Spirit who daily offers to heart and mind an ex 
alting and satisfying intercourse, can inflame the will to forego 
the false and transient advantage for a permanent good which is 
that alike both of the individual and of all men. 

It becomes therefore of interest to a State to maintain religion, 
and to teach it. And it is therefore reasonable to expect the 
laws of the State to establish a Church : but a difficulty arises when 
there is more than one religion in a country, and especially if each 
religion tends to be identified with a particular interest, or a par 
ticular class of society. When that happens, religion no longer 
properly performs its function in the State. And it is therefore 
in the nature of things that there should be at present in England 
and America a movement towards Christian unity. It is the 
inevitable answer to the instinctive demand of society, whether 
organized for commerce or organized for administration. Religion 


is from the business point of view the short cut to solid prosperity 
and its indispensable support. And if there cannot be religious uni 
ty, can there not at least be a moral unity? Cannot one denomina 
tion support another denomination in at least those things which 
they share in common ? The answer is not an easy one : but neither 
religion nor the State can be expected to prosper till it is found. 
And simply from the economic point of view, a movement toward 
Christian unity is of the greatest interest to all just observers. 
And if from both inside and outside the Church of England 
there is at the present moment an inclination towards disestab 
lishment, a sound thinker would require that the State should 
replace the disestablished Church by some means of encouraging 
a reasonable and charitable zeal among all denominations in 
their mutual study of one another's attitude, so that they can 
arrive at some basis for providing the State with that moral and 
religious enthusiasm without which its life as a whole will suffer 
disadvantage and great danger. 

In England, there are at present extremely suggestive and 
interesting developments in this direction. The Archbishop of 
Canterbury has not only in the stress of great controversies, 
affecting the most cherished forms of belief and worship, main 
tained unity in the Church of England, but he has made tangible 
advances towards every considerable body in Christendom. 
With a patience, a courtesy, a tact and a dignity which are a model 
to all, he has used his great political gifts to lead directly, but 
with no undue haste, towards the visible solidarity of Christian 
society. While compromising nothing which his co-religionists 
hold dear, he has not only made distinct advances towards the 
leading Protestant denominations, but has taken cognizance of 
members of the Catholicizing party in his communion conferring 
with Roman Catholics on points at issue between them; and what 
is more, for all its modes are far more alien to England, he has 
established with certain members of the Orthodox Church so 
complete an understanding that they have even given one another 
the Holy Communion. And, indeed, if under the Archbishop 
the Church of England can maintain the formal unity over ele 
ments so comprehensive, so divergent as she does, does she not pro 
vide a means for outward union even with those outside her margin ? 


While the Archbishop, with that fine large-mindedness and 
shrewdness for which he is noted, has moved in this direction, the 
Bishop of Manchester, Dr. William Temple, the son of a prede 
cessor in the Archbishop's See, has taken the lead in joining with 
Protestants outside the Establishment to apply the principles 
of Christianity to politics, economics and citizenship. In the great 
conference at Birmingham at which they met in 1923, he and his 
friends obviously performed a singular service to the State. They 
arrived at practical conclusions dealing with education, the 
home, the relation of the sexes, leisure, the treatment of crime, 
international relations, war, industry and property, politics and 
citizenship, the social function of the Church, and the social 
effect of Christianity in history. Over this wide field, a diverse 
company of admitted authorities collaborated. Members of 
Parliament, Jesuits, Anglican Bishops, Nonconformist ministers 
and philosophers, Oxford and Cambridge dons, Socialists, sons 
of Dukes, economic specialists, Dominican friars, Privy Coun 
cillors, editors, justices of the peace both men and women, dis 
tinguished writers, mothers, and headmasters, were all represented 
among the members of the commissions. Curiously enough 
there were no soldiers or sailors. The members asked themselves 
searching practical questions, such as "If you loved your neighbor 
as yourself would you want him to have and enjoy everything 
you have to enjoy?" "What do you mean by national honor?" 
and "Can the spiritual element in marriage render the physical 
expression unnecessary?" They dealt delicately with complex 
problems, and though their reports are at times carelessly phrased, 
they arrived at scholarly, honest and nice conclusions on some 
of the most interesting and difficult subjects now occupying 
Europe. In the three volumes entitled respectively Inter 
national Relations, Christianity and War, Politics and Citizenship, 
they come to important conclusions about the Press and local 
government, about applying the same standards of common 
sense in excitement about war, and point to religion as the influ 
ence towards good will between nations which would give real 
validity to the Covenant of the League of Nations. In this way 
they prepared for the great work at Stockholm when in August, 
, under Archbishop Soderblom of Upsala, all denominations 


but the Pope's being represented, a great Christian Congress 
applied religion to politics in grounds acceptable to all, even to 
those not represented. 

These discussions take us back into a century of great geniuses 
who left their thoughts as beacons to succeeding ages. Of all 
great religious thinkers of the past, none took a more compre 
hensive view or subjected it to more thorough logic than that 
canonized professor of the University of Naples, Thomas of 
Aquinas. Convinced justly of the supremacy of God as revealed 
in the Bible and expressed in the Church, St. Thomas Aquinas 
found in Aristotle, lately rediscovered from the Arabians and 
expounded by an earlier Dominican, Albertus Magnus, a body 
of reasoned thought that appeared to him admirably suited to be 
built up into the fabric of Christianity. The Politics of Aristotle 
is made with the Nicomachean Ethics the basis of an economic 
system, which is applied to the principles of administration in a 
treatise known as De Regimine Principum which was elaborated 
in another by Egidio Colonna, De Ecclesiastica Potestate. These 
two thinkers saw in the Church's authority a delegation of the 
paternity of God, and in fact the continuation of the life 
and power of God on earth. To them, historical events were 
like Nature, the work of God guiding them to their salvation. To 
them, therefore, the earth mattered only so much as it was a 
preparation for heaven: and they took interest in politics and 
economics not so much for themselves as because they were one 
phase of the Divine activity. St. Thomas sought to look at the 
world through the mind of God : and revelation therefore, and the 
whole supernatural order which he accepted as accompanying 
revelation, were the final and most authoritative guides to the 
right economy of States. Such a view is of course strictly logi 
cal, and is the development we should expect from a believer in 
the world as part of an eternal order to which it is attached by a 
guaranteed dispensation of divine life. To the logical Catholic, 
the Pope as Vicar of Christ would naturally be the head even of 
the political world. And this is in fact a more moderate and 
practical form of the doctrine of Wyclif that men can exercise 
political power only by divine grace. 

Dante, who was a loyal follower of Aquinas, differs from him in 


his political philosophy. There are two references in the Divina 
Commedia to the doctrine the poet elaborated in De Monarchia, 
that political authority is divine in itself independently of the 
sacerdotal power. He saw in the Holy Roman Empire, and espe 
cially in Barbarossa's successor, a guarantee of those principles of 
universal justice and law which he saw to be necessary to the 
unity of human society. A few years after his death this idea 
was developed to something not unlike a view general today, 
that the lay authority, founded on universal suffrage, provided 
the only means to govern not only civil society but even the 
Church itself, leaving to the future life the punishment of errors 
as such, and reserving to itself the power to punish those who 
professed doctrines dangerous to society. This was the theory 
of an Italian priest, Marsilio di Padova, as expressed in his book 
Defensor Pads: but he deliberately avoids the question whether 
there should be a universal monarchy or separate States, and 
therefore we do not really know where the lay authority resides. 

That question is the one most pressing at the present day. If 
indeed when the State had once adjusted its relation to the spirit 
ual and moral principle the question was settled, we need go 
little further than to seek to apply to a divided Christianity the 
great ideal and the noble principle which the judicious Hooker 
worked out for Elizabethan England in his Ecclesiastical Polity. 
That magnificent work is one of the last triumphs of mediaeval 
thought, for it is founded on Aristotle and the Scholastic Philoso 
phy : but it is known as the earliest masterpiece, and still perhaps 
in every sense the first, which an Anglican has given to his coun 
try and to the world. And indeed, after working out the ideas 
of duty to the State as an essential function of a spiritual society, 
and duty to God as the comprehensive and final aim of organized 
humanity, he gives us a complete and logical theory of an ideal 
relationship of Church and State. But his ideal has never been a 
fact, and at the present day the proportion of the members of the 
Established Church to the population of the nation as a whole 
reminds us how it has tended even to be further from the actual 
fact in the life of England and of Britain. It is the object of 
England at the present day, and it is an achievement we might 
well demand from a member of the Church of England, to apply 


to the present state of the country with its divided denomina 
tions, its absence of religious zeal, its lack of profound doctrines 
of political philosophy, and its economic hardships to apply to 
contemporary England the theory and the ideals of the profound 
thinker who first provided for the Church of England a founda 
tion of philosophic thought. Such a work could never at the 
present day be occupied with any single country. It would have 
to state universal laws and principles, and these we imagine will 
occupy the attention of the great ecclesiastical congress at 
Lausanne, in which a leading American Episcopalian Bishop is 
especially interested and which is to meet this year. 

But, as the deliberations of the conference at Birmingham 
showed, the theory of Hooker developed in respect to an ideal State 
suffers from the same defect as the Defensor Pads of Marsilio di 
Padova. It did not take into consideration the conflicts that arise, 
and the interests it is necessary to adjust, between one State and 
another. That sort of difficulty pressed upon the minds of the con 
ference, as we have seen. The aftermath of war is a bitter reminder 
of the weakness of such political philosophers as the Florentine 
Machiavelli or the English Hobbes. Both of those writers were 
among the most able men of their different ages, and each did 
good service both to his age and to his countrymen. But they 
belonged to an age when the unity of human society was forgotten 
in either the rivalry of competing States, or in the lack of a moral 
order to provide even an individual State with political security. 
The high patriotism, the shrewd and experienced judgment, and 
the courageous frankness in the exposition of political expedients 
by which Machiavelli sought to secure a free and efficient govern 
ment for his own or any other State, are so weakened by his 
compromise with that spiritual wickedness in high places which 
accompanied the eager enterprise of merchants, artisans and art 
ists, as they strove forward to supreme greatness, that II Principe 
has become a scandal, and to the common mind the name of 
Machiavelli almost suggests Mephistopheles. As the great Vil- 
lari justly states, "he did not ask if, as there is a private morality, 
there is also a social and political morality, which likewise imposes 
bounds which should in no case be transgressed, and this morality 
gives to the statesman's conduct a rule, that though it may be 


altered to suit times and social conditions is regulated not the less 
by principles which are inviolable." 

Two centuries had passed from the time of Machiavelli 
before Thomas Hobbes gave England his Leviathan. Hobbes 
did not, like Machiavelli, go to the extreme of ignoring 
the existence of moral principles; but looking at the world 
around him not as part of an august order devised by an 
infinite wisdom to proceed from chaos to perfection, but rather 
as a wild activity of conglomerate life, he looked upon the supreme 
power of the State as the best means to insure the supremacy of 
the laws which men in society devise to maintain themselves and 
one another in peace from the ferocity of the depredatory individ 
ual. Hobbes was a monarchist, and he believed in the monarch 
being supported by a Church. But as he put the Church in sub 
serviency to the monarch, he made himself obnoxious to the 
Royalists among whom he wrote his book, and the great protago 
nist of monarchy was obliged to return from France to England to 
seek the protection of the Commonwealth. 

And indeed that part of his theory which puts the State above 
the Church is obviously absurd. To put force above law, vio 
lence above moral principle, is as repugnant to reason as to put 
the temporary convenience of society above the eternal welfare of 
all men, just as to put human devices above a revelation from on 
high, would be hostile to all the claims of religion. If there is a 
religion, it must both as a revelation and as a direct dispensation 
of the life above nature be supplied with a power and an author 
ity to which all things must conform. Religion must by its very 
nature claim supremacy over the State: once they admit the 
existence of religion, the minds of most men inevitably assume 
that they know of a power greater and higher than their own, a 
power which ought to dominate every activity both of their social 
and of their single lives. 

"Shew Thou me the way that I should walk in, for I lift up my 
soul unto Thee," Canon Liddon said was the language of feeling 
of intelligence and obedience asking for more than human life can 
give: "It is these," he said, "because it is the voice of the 
great cry of that unquenchable passion, of that irrepressible 
aspiration, whereby the soul of man shews forth its truest dignity 


and highest virtue in seeking the better to know and love and 
serve its Highest and Invisible Object; " and "Religion," he adds, 
"indeed must always command the attention of practical men 
because it is at least one of the most powerful forces, because it 
shapes the strongest passions that can govern the conduct of 
large masses of mankind." 

This being so, one is not surprised if governments and great 
rulers have sought illogically to give the political power dominion 
over the Church. Forced by instinct or experience to support 
the institutions of the State with the prestige of a religious or 
moral loyalty, they find that in doing so they subject themselves 
to an authority with whose claims theirs cannot compete. Hu 
man nature struggles to regain the absoluteness it has abrogated, 
but it fails. Force always cedes in the end to moral principle, 
and when the tyrant has done his work, the Church arises once 
more to the mild enjoyment of her recurrent triumph. Where 
the Caesars have long since vanished, the Successor of Peter still 
assumes his sway and ever again is crowned as the ruler of kings 
and princes. The servant of the servants of God is always seen 
at the last to be the king of kings of the earth. 

In the remarkable book in which Monsieur Jean Carrere has 
given extraordinarily vivid and suggestive pictures of the struggle 
of the Papacy, not for temporal power but against it, he runs 
through all Christian history to illustrate his thesis that the 
moral principle must finally establish supremacy over moral 
force. The Roman Emperors, the Northern invaders, Charle 
magne, Barbarossa, Napoleon and Napoleon III, while all pro 
fessing toleration, or more generally loyalty, to the Church, had 
each endeavoured to make the Papacy subservient to their 
imperial ambitions. Each had failed. Their empires passed 
away, the Papacy survives. Each in his turn with the impetu- 
ousness,the courage, the patience of Peter, the Popes had succeeded 
in holding intact the organization by which Christianity assumed 
influence over kings and governments. That book has been 
first translated into English, though in an unscholarly way which 
makes the very worst of the style of a man trained as a journalist; 
it has had a very great sale in France, and not a negligible one in 
Italy: the two great Latin nations listen to so much of protest 

VOL. ccxxiv. NO. 834 8 


against their national ambitions. The Papacy is respected in 
both of them. 

What of England? In different circumstances, the same phe 
nomenon presents itself. Henry VIII arbitrarily assumed in 
England the functions of the Pope: he proclaimed himself su 
preme Head on Earth of the Church of England, and so by the 
laws both of England and of Anglicanism the King remains. 
But Kings have long since abandoned their attempt to dominate 
the Church, and now Parliament has done so too. The civil 
power attempts to dictate neither morals nor religion to the 
country. But the Archbishop of Canterbury still crowns the 
King and the State admits the dignity of religion and of the 
Church, which once more longs to become international. 

In much, it is true, the Church not only swayed but adminis 
tered civil society. In China, in Judaea, in the Papal States, the 
man of God was absolute as the civil power. There is nothing 
illogical in such a theory. But human nature inevitably resents 
the encroachments of the spiritual power over what it has much 
justification for believing to be the domain of natural reason: 
and because in the sacerdotal organization the human element is 
always present, even to those that believe in the priest's super 
natural authority, therefore the human weakness of the priestly 
agent might leave him so open to criticism that the criticism of a 
superior administrator outside his order might involve his spir 
itual authority. Abusus non tollit uswn, however: and Europe 
lately saw in Monsignor Seipel a remarkable example of a priest 
succeeding as the temporal ruler of a State. There has always 
been much to say in favor of theocracies. 

But, though the spiritual authority of religion is not incom 
patible with political government, and though no believer in 
religion can for a moment tolerate interference with that religion, 
or any other covert claim of the State to be superior to it, the 
State can criticize the Church in her relation to itself. From 
that point of view, the Romans had an excuse for attempting to 
annihilate the early Christians: for the converts threatened to 
undermine the religious organization which the State supported 
to assist it. And any State, or party, which sees in a religious 
body a tendency hostile to its own, has a right to remonstrate 


with it. Furthermore, as we have seen, if the State is prepared 
to support religion, as in prudence it ought to be, then it has 
politically a right to a quid pro quo. Such a right would naturally 
be adjusted by some organized relation between the State and the 
religion. Only in one case would it be lost: if the Church could 
show that the State was defeating its own ends as a State by 
putting expediency above the moral principle. The Church 
would then perform her duty to the State by refusing the return 
demanded. A zealous conflict would in fact prove that the 
quid pro quo which appeared to be refused was in reality being 
given. A more likely difficulty, however, would be the lack of 
Church interest in the moral problems of the State. 

In the materialism which reigned in European politics from the 
time of Machiavelli to Hobbes, and long after, these obvious 
points were hidden, and in some minds they are obscured still. 
And with them was another point of which, as far as we can tell, 
sight will not be lost again. It was that question which Marsilio 
di Padova deliberately avoided, the relation of the single State to 
the dominant power of the world so as to ensure the reign of 
peace and justice. There was never more need than now for 
careful thought on such a subject: in the last hundred years the 
world has indeed changed. Nations never lived to themselves, 
but now more than ever their own necessities make them their 
brother's keeper. It is the goods sold in Germany which enable 
England to make purchases in China: it is the export to India 
which buys wheat from North America and wheat and mutton 
from the Argentine. The word commerce never had such a rich 
and complex meaning as it has today. And while invention 
has in this sense given a new reality to the solidarity of mankind, 
the power for destruction which modern science has also developed 
threatens things infinitely more sinister than any yet known to 
the charitable and economic intercourse which should unite them 
to one another, and the culture which offers them intimacy with 
great minds in other ages. 

Both from the moral and from the political view, therefore, the 
problem of Dante is now far more pressing than it was to him, or 
ever has been since. The Birmingham Conference was alive 
to it; so was the Stockholm Conference; and so too is a 


body infinitely more powerful and experienced than the admira 
ble organization of the Bishop of Manchester. An international 
Church with adherents of three hundred and twenty millions 
scattered over the more active nations of the world has indeed 
performed a great service to society in this sense, and by that 
service it makes a claim on nations that far outweighs any repug 
nance which its customs, its system, or its doctrine might make 
on individuals who are determined never to accept them. The 
Papacy has since the war been particularly busy with attempts 
to reconcile those conflicting interests which have threatened the 
destruction of society. They are foremost in the intentions of 
the present Pope. He announced them in his first Encyclical as the 
central object of his reign. He arranged for 1925 a great pilgrim 
age which had this for its central object. And he has long had 
in mind to call together all his Bishops in (Ecumenical Council to 
lay down principles in relation to the welfare of society, menaced 
by the war, as one of his predecessors laid them down in connec 
tion with industrial and political life within the State. Further 
more he has in the thirty -two Powers represented at the Vatican 
an organization which enables him to give an official expression 
of the principles of truth and justice to the principal Powers of 
Europe and of the world. The Vatican is in fact the moral coun 
terpart of the League of Nations, an organization which in fact 
the last Pope was one of the first men to suggest. 

Apart from the Vatican, the League of Nations is the only 
great international institution which exists to deal with the eco 
nomics and the politics of the world as a whole. And it is right, 
as it is inevitable, that all those who do not look upon the Vatican 
as the appointed centre of the world should regard with hope and 
interest the chance of realizing at Geneva a means of seeking and 
ensuing universal peace and justice. 

That the mere institution of a League of Nations should finally 
settle this question, and calm all the passions raised by the war, 
and its inevitable economic effects or the Peace of Versailles and 
its equally inevitable economic effects is more than any practi 
cal man could ask of such an institution. The League of Nations 
begins its career of usefulness with other things. It was able to 
settle the dispute between Finland and Sweden over the Aland 


Islands; it settled the open rupture between Yugoslavia and 
Albania; it reconstituted the financial organization of Austria 
and afterwards of Hungary. In the Turkish war it worked 
effectually for the repatriation of prisoners. Through collect 
ing statistics from different nations, it was able to use an in 
fluence against child labor in Japan and to some extent in 
Persia. It arranged a Health Conference, and at a critical time 
drew a cordon sanitaire round Soviet Russia. 

We see from these examples the sort of expedient that the 
League of Nations is. The organization started at Geneva 
is not an alliance but a society. And it cannot, as indeed 
it should not, coerce. Even economic pressure it is wrong 
to expect from it, for such is quite impracticable with the great 
and dangerous nations. It is a means of arbitration, and a 
central organism whose power depends on moral principles. Its 
very origin is a response to an ideal. And it is significant that in 
England it makes a great appeal to conservative Churchmen like 
Lord Cecil: it has in fact, for the same reasons, changed a great 
conservative Churchman like Lord Parmoor into a member of the 
Labour Party, but it is still in need of a statement of the laws 
and principles by which a World Court could function. For 
up to now there is nothing in the machinery of the League 
to adjust its action with those principles of religion and 
morality which more than anything else called it into being. It 
is imperative to provide it with something of that sort, both to 
guide it and to strengthen it. And when we consider the number 
of Powers which have diplomatic relations with the Holy See, it is 
surely absurd that the League should by its very constitution be 
debarred from any official relation with the great international 
center of religion and morality which so often assists and comple 
ments its works. It was an Italian Jew who insisted on inserting 
that article among those of its constitution, but he did not repre 
sent the feeling of his countrymen. They are at present far from 
pleased with his action. And there is every reason why it should 
be changed so that the League might be in direct intercourse not 
only with the Vatican, but with the chief authority of every con 
siderable Christian denomination, to further the causes which 
they all have at heart with it. 


For we have moved far from the time when such an expression 
as "A free Church in a free State" has any real significance. 
Freedom is an amplitude of action. A Church cannot be free till 
it is able to exert an influence upon a State: a State is not free till 
by a due attention to moral and religious principles it has founded 
its course of action upon permanent and inviolable principles. 
And in this modern world where since the time of Machiavelli the 
theories of nationalism have tended to obscure the unity of the 
world as a whole, neither the Church nor the State is free which 
does not look outside the confines of the State to human society 
as a whole. That unity, as we have seen, is never more real than 
now: on the other hand, it never faced such ghastly dangers as the 
scientific inventions of 1918 proposed for it, and which leave 
us still with the peril suggested by the English politician, Mr. 
Winston Churchill: "Means of destruction incalculable in their 
effects, wholesale and frightful in their character and unrelated to 
any form of human merit; the march of science unfolding even 
more appalling possibilities, and the fires of hatred burning deep 
in the hearts of some of the greatest people in the world, fed by 
the deepest sense of national wrong or national danger!" 

Such is the problem with which the religion of today must cope 
if it fulfils its duty to the State. It is no easy matter. It demands 
from all men of good will, whether ecclesiastics or laymen, the 
most eager study, and the most resolute and tactful apostleship 
in awaking nations both to the problem itself and to the efficacy 
of any solutions reached. And it would be a suicidal mania for 
the State not to assist them in such a task. That great work is 
not only for the thinker, it can be properly performed only if a 
religious and moral zeal is aroused even in private life. There 
was never a time when the State had more need of the functions 
of the Church than it has now. The cares of each for the other 
never needed to be more comprehensive, the relation never needed 
to be more close. 

9 9 



JUST how strong is the hold of the national game, as it is called, 
over the American people is shown by the mixture of hysteria 
and indignation felt over baseball's most recent scandal. It 
turns out that it was in no sense a real scandal, f or Tyrus Raymond 
Cobb and Tristram Speaker, the two players accused, have been 
declared not guilty by Commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis, 
who is to baseball what Mr. Will Hays is to the Motion Picture; 
excepting that Commissioner Landis has the greater power in his 

Certainly there was more popular agitation over this baseball 
episode than there was over any of the recent scandals at Washing 
ton. It would seem that while Americans are a trifle cynical as to 
the sincerity of their business and political life, they expect their 
national game to be considerably further beyond suspicion than 
Caesar's wife; and, when it is even hinted that the professional 
athletes in it are not all Bayards, there is much more consternation 
than there would be over the revelation that a seat in the Senate 
had been bought or that a Cabinet member had gone wrong. 

But when the first shock subsides, the patrons of professional 
baseball find their faith renewed. After every baseball scandal 
(there have been only three real ones in the life of the game) the 
pastime with its infinite variety lures them back, though they 
swear that they have been disillusioned. Thus it was "Babe" 
Ruth who made them forget the "Black Sox" Scandal. 

If Abner Doubleday, athlete and soldier, had not invented the 
game of baseball at Cooperstown, New York, a few years before 
the start of the Civil War, George Herman Ruth, known as the 
Babe, would at this time probably be a cigar maker in Baltimore, 
and Kenesaw Mountain Landis might still be on the Federal 
bench. The United States might have adopted the English game 
of cricket, and somebody like Jack Hobbs, the greatest cricketer 


of England, would be occupying the place in the popular imagina 
tion now held by Babe Ruth. Abner Doubleday and his friends 
invented the new game for their own amusement, not dreaming 
that it would develop into an entertainment business that would 
enrich many promoters of professional sport and develop person 
alities that would claim and receive more newspaper space than 
statesmen, artists and scientists. 

The English are inclined to sniff at the great American game, 
and to call it glorified "rounders," but it is a game distinct in 
itself and essentially American. It has in it many of the elements 
of American life. There is the disposition to flout the decision of 
the constituted authority, the umpire. There is the passion to 
create an idol, and after placing it on a high pedestal, to knock it 
off and rejoice in its fall. No other people can understand the 
hold that baseball has on America. To all other nations, with 
the exception of Japan, baseball is an incomprehensible and arti 
ficial sport. It is as mysterious as cricket would be to an Ameri 
can, and cricket will remain an eternal mystery to the followers of 
the American game. 

Baseball has produced a variety of heroes and from a strange 
assortment of environments. There was Mathewson, who came 
to the game fresh from the campus of Bucknell College. There 
was Hans Wagner, whose first notion of a career was to drive a loco 
motive on the Pennsylvania Railroad. John Joseph McGraw, 
the once fiery third baseman of the old Orioles, started life as a 
"peanut butcher." Wilbert Robinson, president-manager of the 
Brooklyn baseball club and catcher of the old Orioles, another of 
baseball's heroes whose fame endures, was a butcher boy in a 
Massachusetts small town before he discovered that he had gifts 
to make him one of the great. The big league game gathers some 
strange mixtures of "sand lot" players and college men. Of two 
outfielders rushing to retrieve a fly ball, one may shout, " I got it ! " 
while the other, remembering his English, will say, "I have it ! " 

The present colossus of baseball came up from obscurity. 
When he was a gangling, mischievous boy George Herman Ruth 
was turned over to an institution maintained by the Christian 
Brothers at Baltimore. They tried to teach him some useful 
trade, but he showed no particular interest in anything that might 


be classed as such. He cared for nothing but baseball. It was 
decided that he should be taught the trade of cigar making, but it 
is recorded that he was an indifferent workman. He could not 
concentrate on the business of making cigars, but he had made 
some progress in his study of the national game. He could pitch, 
and he could hit. It is a tradition in baseball that left handers 
are eccentric. This does not always hold true, but it is generally 
admitted that Ruth always did possess a certain amount of eccen 
tricity, which in time became an asset rather than a liability. 

The Babe's big chance came when one of the Christian Broth 
ers, interested in baseball, got him an opportunity for a try-out 
with the Baltimore team in the minors. It was a good invest 
ment for the owner of that team, for it was not long before he sold 
him to the Boston Red Sox, and the Babe became a major leaguer 
instead of a cigar maker. While he was with the Red Sox the 
Babe was merely a left handed pitcher, but a good one. It was 
discovered that he not only could pitch but that he could hit 
harder than anybody else hi the Red Sox batting order. This 
became so evident that the owners of other teams began to cast 
covetous eyes upon him. 

In Boston he became a hero of only slightly less degree than 
John L. Sullivan. At the time the interest in baseball seemed to 
be flagging in that city, and the owner of the Boston Red Sox was 
looking for an opportunity to dispose of some of his players; for 
baseball is a business and no club owner will maintain an expen 
sive team unless he gets what he considers fair returns. The 
owners of the New York Yankees, seeing the possibilities of the 
Babe as a drawing card, began to bid for him. Finally they 
offered the owner of the Red Sox the unheard-of sum of $150,000 
for this player. Conservative promoters of baseball laughed 
over the madness of the Yankee owners. That sum would pay 
all of the players on a big league baseball club for a year. Thus 
far the owners of the Yankees had spent that amount for a dozen 
or more players without adding particularly to the strength of 
their team, or to the volume of their gate receipts. Looking back 
it is clear that Ruth was the cheapest investment ever made in the 
baseball business, for the New York American League club today 
is the most valuable property in organized baseball. 


Now, it was about the time that the "Black Sox" scandal was 
brewing that Babe Ruth joined the Yankees and was transferred 
to the outfield. He was a great pitcher, but his new owners real 
ized that his chief value to them was at the bat. He demon 
strated that. When a nation of bewildered baseball fans learned 
that a World Series had been corrupted, there was a howl of 
indignation from Maine to California. It always had been 
maintained that baseball was the one professional sport that could 
not be corrupted. But it was only too clear that it had happened. 
Indignant fans declared that they never would see another base 
ball game. I happened to be in a position where I received 
hundreds of these letters from men who were abandoning baseball 
forever. There was a reorganization of the administrative de 
partment of baseball. Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis was 
coaxed from the Federal bench and appointed Baseball Commis 
sioner with extraordinary powers. But even that gesture was 
not convincing to the disillusioned fans. 

Babe Ruth chose this emergency to "do his stuff," as they say. 
He started hitting home runs. There was something really 
convincing in this gesture, for he was hitting them harder, far 
ther and more frequently than they ever had been hit before. 
His bat was compared to the club of Hercules and the hammer of 
Thor. The eccentric left handed pitcher, who might have be 
come an indifferent cigar maker, became the national hero and 
the biggest news of the day. 

So there was no falling off in the attendance at games due to the 
"Black Sox" scandal. On the contrary, attendance at all base 
ball parks began to increase. In some of the cities where the New 
York Americans played, business men complained that they might 
as well close down while the Babe was driving the official league 
baseball against the far horizon. It was noticed that these busi 
ness men themselves were at the baseball parks when they regis 
tered this complaint. Instead therefore of losing followers 
because of the scandal, the game gained followers because of Babe 
Ruth; and interest in it, just as it seemed to be waning, revived 
with astonishing vigor. 

Naturally, Babe Ruth became aware of his importance, and 
began to show evidence of what is called "temperament." At the 


close of the season in which he broke all home run records of all 
time, he decided that he would pick up a team of his own and give 
exhibitions of home run hitting after the regular season. This 
was against the rules, and he was notified to that effect by Com 
missioner Landis. To the admonition he replied in very insub 
ordinate language, and started to make his tour; but soon gave 
it up and agreed to come back and be an obedient baseball player. 
But the Czar of professional baseball, in order to make an example 
of the biggest figure in the game and to convince the fans that he 
was really in authority, suspended him for a considerable period, 
despite the anguish of the baseball fans and of the Babe's owners, 
who found a diminishing of the gate receipts to the amount of 
$100,000 while Ruth was in exile. When his exile was over, the 
Babe said good-naturedly : "The Judge was right. It was coming 
to me." 

But after the record-breaking year the star of Babe Ruth began 
to wane. His waist line increased, and his batting average de 
creased. He became more and more temperamental. Now the 
baseball fan is the most fickle of all hero worshippers. As the 
Babe started to strike out more frequently, there were murmurs of 
criticism from the stands. These in time became so distinct that 
they came to his ears. He could not understand it. He was 
playing for all that was in him, and yet he was criticized. He 
was hurt and he became morose. 

There was a final explosion at the Polo Grounds. The Babe 
was at bat, and as he took his stance an insistent voice called 
through megaphoned hands, "You big bum, you!" He was 
furious. He made three vigorous swings and hit nothing. As 
he started to go back to the dugout that derisive voice shrilled, 
'' ' You big bum, you ! " Then Mr. Ruth went mad. He leaped to 
the roof of the dugout a feat that no stout athlete could have 
performed under normal circumstances and started for his per 
secutor, who took flight in the general direction of Albany. The 
Babe dropped back to the roof of the dugout, where he executed a 
dance of rage and made a gesture as though he would tear down 
the stands on those fans who had turned against him. Then he 
subsided and rushed to the dressing room to brood over the 
fickleness of the public. 


I happened to be on the train with him when he departed for 
Hot Springs, to take his ceremonial baths. It was his custom to 
initiate spring baseball training by repairing to this place and 
reducing his waist line. He was once more in a magnanimous 
mood. He forgave everybody, including the man who had 
designated him as a "bum." He was bent on getting himself in 
condition for another shattering of home runs records, including 
his own. But that record was not destined to be broken. He 
became stouter and more temperamental. Before the start of 
last season he went through a rigorous regime of training, with the 
result that while he did not break his own home run record, he 
played great baseball and performed great feats with his bat in 
the World Series. 

The strangest ingredient in the strange mixture that makes up 
the average baseball player thus caused the public to forget the 
worst scandal in the national game. But while I do not wish to 
appear cynical, there may develop other scandals, despite the 
vigilance of Commissioner Landis and the sincerity of some of the 
athletes. The national game can not be expected to develop any 
higher ideals than the business or political life of the nation. Its 
patrons have been expecting too much of it. It might be just as 
well therefore to take the attitude of one fan who wrote when Cobb 
and Speaker were accused: "Oh, well, the game is less than half 
of one per cent, dishonest!" Now that these two have been 
cleared, even that percentage is wiped out; and with Babe Ruth 
and other stars still shining, the outlook for professional baseball 
this year is, "Business as usual." 



NEITHER at dawn nor evening 
Though legions camp hereby 
Shall braying trumpets arouse him 
To hear their battle cry. 

All through a thousand years of sleep 
No louder an alarm 
Than the soft bells of downland sheep 
Has rung to do him harm. 

And even that noise the kindly grass 
Has muffled and shut away 
Forever, because the soldier fell 
Dreaming he'd rise some day. 


CAN April die today 
And still deny the Spring 
A welcome for her May? 

What smiles her lips will quell 
When birds neglect to sing 
Her wonted greeting well. 

How sadly she will sigh 
When through the naked trees 
The moaning wind goes by. 


And how her rapid hands 
Will quiver when she sees 
Fields where no playmate stands 

To tell her she is sweet, 
And kiss her on the mouth, 
And on her shining feet 

But sullen lambs in crowds, 
And, back toward the South, 
God, brooding in His clouds. 



I thought, Beloved, when you went away 
On that red morning in the summer drouth, 
When the hot wind came softly from the south 

Throughout succeeding hours of that sad day 
I thought I drank so deep of loneliness 

I needs had drained the cup and put it by 

But still I drink the cup is never dry. 

And in new draughts I taste the old distress, 

For now the season shifts; the autumn corn, 
Buff -colored, crackles in the fresh north wind 
That seems to bring some word of joy behind 

And sweeps my sadness all away in scorn. . . . 
But only for a space it flows anew 
In bitterness of gladness lacking you. 


MORNING . . . and wind . . . and all the shivered leaves 

Are startled with this light upon themselves, 

This sudden stir that wakens them and weaves 

A blurred, green dance that might be twirling elves. 

They put a strain upon the sober bough 

To stand this infinite tugging at each stem, 

So eager are they, and so lovely, now, 

With this first light of morning over them. 

And it is well for me and for my heart 

To have such happy things thus near at hand, 

Where every lightest, errant wind will start 

A green and silver rustle in this band 

Of twirling shapes that might as well be elves, 

So much they love their dancing and themselves. 



MUCH news is published regarding the activities of the Little 
Theatres in all parts of the United States. The announcements 
are often startling, because they show how widespread is the 
activity, how isolated are many of the communities from which the 
best results are secured. Were these items to be classified, their 
significance would be seen to arise from definite social causes 
which have a great bearing on the general theatrical condition of 
the country. They seem to me to be predominately indicative of 
an ever growing interest in the theatre; of a community intention 
to satisfy a theatre taste which has been left to starve by the regu 
lar theatrical manager; of a gradual assumption of theatre direct 
ing by university faculties. Once the Little Theatre was merely 
a group endeavor to "express itself " vaingloriously . But theatre 
arts, like all the other arts, are not to be played with amateur 
ishly without absurd results. And that is one of the reasons why 
we have never been able to make a census of Little Theatres : they 
have died overnight, either through their excesses or because of 
their vague reason for being. 

It is through the earnest endeavor of a few of these institutions, 
and through the pioneer preachment of a few of their directors, 
that we may be said to have entered at the present time into an 
other phase of the Little Theatre development: the phase which 
is to be most potent to the professional theatre, since it will for a 
new planting plough the theatrical territory which has lain fallow 
for so many years, due to the wild speculative character of the 
"show" business as organized on Broadway. One hears the cry 
of neglect north, south, east, and west: the complaint that when 
professional companies do come to unaccustomed points, the 
plays are so badly given, the actors are so second rate as to be an 
insult to common intelligence. Again, only the plays of box- 


office surety venture forth at all, and in a season one is asked to 
look upon two pictures; through professional channels Polly 
Preferred, Cobra, The Bat, Seventh Heaven, Outward Bound, 
Sonny, etc., as against the University offering of Fanny's First 
Play, The Beggar on Horseback, Liliom, The Enchanted Cottage, 
Pierrot the Prodigal, The Duenna, Twelfth Night, etc. 

At random, take any theatrical journals and make a notation of 
what is going on in the supposedly amateur field. A series of 
Indiana plays just published; the North Dakota and North Caro 
lina Haymakers active in conducting classes of playwriters busy 
with local themes ; a hotel advertising the advantages of its Little 
Theatre for its guests; St. Louis and Chicago showing pride in 
their Civic Theatres; the Mount Holyoke College Dramatic Club 
giving Masefield's The Tragedy of Nan and the Harvard Dramatic 
Club Andreyeff's The Life of Man. Way out in the Wisconsin 
town of Ripon, they discover that they can have a theatre, so con 
trived as to cost them sixty dollars; and they emulate Professor 
Baker at Yale by establishing English C 39 Dramaturgy, which 
they hope will gain the national reputation of Workshop 47. 
Columbia, Mo., experiments with a Children's Theatre; Cali 
fornia Teachers meet in convention and insist on a play as part of 
their programme; the Pasadena Community Playhouse gains the 
confidence of its following, as does the Cleveland Play House, and 
they both have large financial programmes for substantial build 
ings and equipment. The Pennsylvania State Players begin a 
campaign to improve the artistic standards of the colleges; the 
Missouri State Teachers' College enlarges its plan for a State tour, 
taking pattern no doubt by the Carolina Playmakers who, in ten 
State tours (1925), have' visited eighty-three different towns of 
North Carolina. Furthermore I note that a National Drama 
Week has covered a small town with bunting to inveigle its citi 
zens to give money toward the purchase of a stable for a Little 
Theatre, while the Mayors of Mobile, Alabama, New Orleans, 
Louisiana, and Dallas, Texas, pay homage to their Little Theatres 
by official proclamations of a Little Theatre Week. In one city, 
booths are built in the financial district for a Community Theatre 
Drive; in another city, the subscription lists are closed with a full 
pledged membership of 3,000 and others clamoring at the door; in 

VOL. ccxxiv. NO. 834 9 


Chicago, a memorial theatre is dedicated; in New Haven visitors 
are taken to see the new Gothic Theatre given, with the 
Harkness endowment, to Yale University; in Pittsburgh the 
School of Technology calls a conference of University Drama 
Teachers and Little Theatre Directors to discuss some form of 
cooperative work, and delegates arrive from nearly every State 
in the Union. In the summer, an automobile theatre takes the 
road with the gypsies. 

What does it all mean, this flowering by the wayside? The 
theatrical managers tell you that the Road is dead; this news tells 
you that it is alive in a way these near-sighted business men have 
not dreamt of. If there is any solution ever to be reached as to 
the amusement problems of the United States, it is going to come 
because of this widespread activity of the amateur, the semi- 
professional and the university professor the latter a liaison of 
ficer between the man he has trained in the theatre arts and the 
professional theatre which will depend upon this new blood for 
its growth and expansion. 

It is an interesting condition to analyze that our theatre man 
agers have deserted this Road because railroad rates are so ex 
orbitant, and distances between cities of importance west of the 
Mississippi so vast. This territorial isolation is one of the handi 
caps to any cooperation of a concerted character between towns 
possessing Little Theatres or Art Theatres of an almost profes 
sional standard. Writes the director from Seattle, Washington: 

We are a long way from the world's theatrical centre out here; indeed we 
couldn't get farther away without getting our feet wet. ... It is really 
cheaper and more attractive in almost every way to go to Japan or China to see 
things in the theatre, and I find the offerings in the theatres of Tokio, Osaka 
and Kioto much more to be desired than most of the New York stuff. . . . 
Seattle waits for from two to four years for Broadway successes, played by 
third-rate companies and "directed" especially for the yokels in the sticks. 

From St. Louis I hear this plaint: 

We are neither [North, South, East, or West; ... we are partly each of 
the four, so that our situation might be described as "territorial comprehen 
siveness" as well as "territorial aloofness.". . . St. Louis is really, as some of 
her admirers put it, "entirely surrounded by the United States"; in part, she 
partakes of the nature of her surroundings and in part she is separate from 
them an interesting town suffering from the defects of her qualities. 


In Kansas, the problem of space isolation has given theatre- 
lovers a feeling that there can never be any hope of cooperation 
with the professional theatre, and so, writes one of the directors 
from Lawrence, "the best chance of development theatrically is 
through the school and college where enthusiasm is shown for the 
work". He adds: 

There is great activity in amateur drama. Much bad and some terrible 
work is still being done, but the quality of acting and staging is improving. 
There is no community art theatre in Kansas. Several colleges take plays on 
tour around the state, while Chautauqua plays, which are quite bad, overrun 
the State during the summer. So far, the work of the Kansas Players has been 
experimental and preliminary. We have given a few thousand people a 
glimpse of drama which they otherwise would not have seen; we have a number 
of people throughout the State trying to write plays, with moderate success ; we 
are interesting a large number of people each season. 

Here is a commonwealth, therefore, on its own theatrically, 
trying to solve its amusement interests, as so many other States 
are doing, with inadequate resources, but with superabundant 
courage and conviction as to the Tightness of the crusade. If 
there is any State contact, if there is even the contact of a few 
neighboring towns, it is reached through personal initiative. 
There are not many States like North Carolina, where the Legisla 
ture sets aside appropriations with the conviction that the theatre 
is a necessity in the education of its citizenship. From Okla 
homa, they write: "Probably not more than two members in the 
personelle of our last Legislature ever heard of a Little Theatre, 
and would be horrified to think of spending good money to aid it. 
Also a very strong movement to reduce taxes is on foot in this 
State, and it will be a long time before ' luxuries ' will even be con 
sidered. " Columbia, South Carolina, makes the confession that 
even though their Town Theatre is almost next door to the State 
capitol, it is to be doubted if the Legislature knows "we exist". 

The twelve centres with which I have corresponded virtually 
cover most of the United States. The directors have been asked 
questions which implied a knowledge of State conditions, and so 
in many ways these organizations represent all phases of activity 
which mark the new stage of work in the Little Theatre. While 
we still have with us groups that are out for no other reason than 


to satisfy a very common plaint in any pretty girl and any active 
boy that they can act; while we still have the teacher who adheres 
to the old method of elocution which once upon a time burdened 
our schools, such activity is of minor importance to the greater aim 
of the Little Theatre, imbued with the new art ideals, willing to 
go to infinite pains to know what the new art is and what it re 
quires of training and experience, anxious to serve the community 
through whose good-will it seeks to live and prosper. 

Into this new, thoughtful activity, the university and the school 
both enter as potent factors. For the theatre arts can be taught 
and encouraged, and the university can become the laboratory for 
experiment training the student in the best methods and en 
couraging in him a taste for the finer things which when he 
returns to his community he will seek, by the wisest means, to 
impose upon it. Under the vital enthusiasm of their director, 
Professor Frederick Koch, the Carolina Playmakers are writing 
plays dealing with the mountain folklore, they are creating Ameri 
can dramatists of such formidable artistry as Paul Green, they are 
bringing to a focus at the University all the play activity of the 
State by means of high school contests that involve the rivalry of 
nearly every county in the commonweal. Their students go 
forth into the West, just as Professor Baker's students scatter 
through the Union, and, given time, this phalanx of graduate 
students will become legion, and there will be a trained body of 
men and women whose services the professional theatre would be 
foolish to ignore. 

Now, there is something to be said for the manager, who is in the 
theatre business as a speculative venture: his experience shows 
that the taste of the Road is not always for the best; that financial 
returns watched from a full experience of road companies show 
that only light comedy and musical comedy net him the returns 
which warrant his courting a road venture. One sometimes 
queries whether, with all the activity, as shown by the establish 
ment of Little Theatres, there is any appreciable improvement in 
popular taste. There is every reason to believe that innovators 
in the theatre are having a hard race with the various demands of 
the democracy. The answer to our doubt is that the theatre 
which must be established as a successor to the amateur move- 


ment, which we are hoping will bring isolated communities in full 
contact with the professional theatre again, is to evolve out of the 
art and community playhouses now raising their heads so mod 
estly and in such a correct spirit throughout the land. Person 
ally I should not like to feel that the playhouses, at Pasadena, at 
Cleveland, at Chicago, at Columbia, South Carolina any one of 
them was hoping to supplant the professional theatre, the profes 
sional actor. As a matter of fact, I find most of them willing and 
anxious to be so placed financially that they might invite special 
actors to come to them for special "guest" performances, thus 
drawing into their work the trained excellence of the professional 
player a method which raised the Theatre Guild in New York 
from semi-professionalism to formidable prominence in a city 
sated with over seventy first class places of amusement. 

Most of these Little Theatres are fast becoming affiliated with 
nearby universities, oftentimes their director holding some posi 
tion in the university (which most likely has added to its curricu 
lum courses to satisfy the growing demand for theatre arts) . The 
Cleveland Play House cooperates informally with the School of 
Applied Social Science of Western Reserve University. The 
North Shore Theatre Guild cooperates with the Northwestern 
University, though for its actors it draws upon local talent of the 
community, wherever it is available. In this respect the Little 
Theatres of the country emulate the enthusiasm of Yeats in Ire 
land, of Antoine in Paris: they pick where they can, they beg 
where they know they will get response. From Columbia, South 
Carolina, comes the refreshing picture of the Director on one of 
his tours for material. They were preparing a production of 
Sheldon's Romance: 

An appeal in the local newspapers brought from old cowhide trunks and attic 
closets the loveliest old garments of the '60's; there were two wedding dresses 
which had been worn by Columbia "girls of the '60 V, one, an exquisite 
brocade which was exactly right for the leading lady in the first act. It must 
be stated that the stage settings and furnishings were recruited from homes of 
the city. I think Mr. Reed never enters a drawing-room that he does not 
make a mental inventory of its contents, for he always knows exactly where to 
find just what he wants at the moment. Columbia gives to its Town Theatre 
its treasure furniture, draperies, bric-a-brac and priceless portraits. 

This personal aspect of the Little Theatre movement is the ele- 


ment which is hopeful as far as the community is concerned, for 
the pride expended on productions that are the result of individ 
ual support leaves a residue of education behind it. Cleveland 
confesses that it reaches a public of forty-five thousand persons 
during the course of a season's work; New Orleans declares that 
its paid subscription list has mounted to 3,500; Columbia has 700 
supporters in the city and nearby environs. Writes the North 
Shore Theatre Guild: 

We receive tremendous support in the towns we play. The membership is 
closed in three of the towns and it is ten days before we open. The capacity of 
the halls in these three towns is four hundred. It is more than likely that two 
of the other three towns will also be closed. In five years our membership has 
grown from 500 to 3100. We will reach the 3500 mark this year and in addi 
tion to this about 2000 people see our plays who pay at the box-office during 
the season. 

These statistics will not thrill the ordinary theatre manager, ac 
customed as he is to houses that yield him ten, fifteen and some 
times twenty thousand dollars weekly. But considering the in 
finite number of amateur centres producing weekly, one can see 
that there is suggested an eventual centralizing of this potential 
audience for the good of the professional theatre. In fact there is 
no reason why there should not, at some future time, be a healthy 
compromise between the art theatre, either subsidized by com 
munity aid or by private subscription list, and the professional 
theatre which is over-speculative at the present and is playing for 
large stakes, the failure to gain which means the obliteration of 
the play of limited run for the play of enormous earning capacity. 

I do not find in correspondence any antagonism of the present 
Little Theatre toward the professional theatre: the latter is left to 
its own endeavor while the amateur groups go out to accomplish 
their own aims. The University in Seattle has its ideal. "My 
hope for the future University Theatre, " so they write, "is for an 
experimental laboratory playhouse playing a new piece monthly 
for runs of several days (week-end dates) each. " And even they 
can look condescendingly upon New York endeavor and claim 
that their one idea is never to go out ostensibly for financial gain. 
Asked if they were so organized that should an "angel" come 
forward with backing they might become a Theatre Guild, they 


exclaim fervently: "We hope to God that our University Theatre 
will never be made 'what the Theatre Guild in New York has 
grown to be', but rather what the Theatre Guild in New York 
might have been. " A piece of long distance criticism which I give 
for what it is worth, but also for the special purpose of showing 
that far-off centres are watching the broad country, even though 
they may prefer "first nights" in Tokio! 

The dominant note I find in the correspondence I have received 
is that a great hope in the future lies in cooperation with the uni 
versity; the dominant handicap is the lack of a sufficiently sub 
stantial budget to enlarge upon their ambitions, and put into 
workable form some system of exchange of ideas, where feasible 
exchange of repertories and companies may be consummated, and 
where a development of the local circuit system may be given a 
trial. For it is my conviction that the only solution for the pro 
fessional theatre again being felt on the Road is the creation of 
numberless territorial circuits which will have their own com 
panies, their own Rialto, their own cooperative system; all this 
will allow managers to do business with a group rather than to 
mulct a single community with high prices and inferior companies. 

The university activity is at present in its infancy. One is 
surprised to find how many colleges, high schools and social groups 
are paying attention to this thing we call theatre arts : how many 
of them, by becoming managers in their way, are studying their 
special localities whereas, in the first days of the Little Theatre, 
they all seemed to rush to such available material as Anatol, even 
though Arizona might have wanted something different. Writes 
the theatre out at Tulsa, Oklahoma: 

We have had splendid cooperation from the press straight through all our 
work. We have an unusual number of men who are interested, and who are 
available to use in any way, although they are mostly very busy people. We 
are fortunate in that we have no particular "star", either man or woman, who 
must be featured all of the time; and we do have a large group of somewhat 
experienced and capable people. . . . But we have not been able to interest the 
"flapper" age very much, and have found them very undependable to work 
with when we have had to have them. I do not know why this is so. The 
public as a whole in this part of the country needs a great deal of educating; the 
"expression teacher" is very evident in the land, and she has not been with us 
she is too often out for personal glory rather than for community betterment. 


I am glad to say I think our work, together with the work in the schools, is run 
ning out the old-time amateur performance, and our audiences are very dis 
criminating, sometimes embarrassingly so. 

This consciousness of improvement is one of the encouraging 
things about the Little Theatres. They are financed on no specu 
lative basis; if they have a deficit, they cut down on their next 
year's plan; if they have a profit, they store it in a sinking fund 
against the day when they might desire to expand their produc 
tion scope, or pay higher salaries to better directors. These 
centres are ripe at the present moment for some system of cooper 
ation to be suggested which would help them to overcome an 
isolation territorially imposed upon them. When Seattle con 
fesses that distances between colleges in Washington are so great 
as to handicap any form of cooperation, one faces a staggering 
situation, which points more and more to the necessity for inde 
pendent centres, founded strictly for local needs. 

Nevertheless, the time is coming for closer cooperation among 
all these forces working for the good of the theatre. A reader of 
the early history of the American theatre will soon recognize that 
the actor of the 'thirties saw more of the country than the actor of 
these advanced years; he ambled on horseback, he floated down 
the Ohio and the Mississippi under local management N. M. 
Ludlow in the Middle West, Sol Smith in the South. Never 
shall such small towns look upon such theatrical light again as 
they saw when America was crude, some of our large cities today 
being mere primitive settlements then. When I read of the Caro 
lina Playmakers touring the State in special motor cars and 
trucks, I see part of an economic solution for enabling entertain 
ment of such character as the Little Theatres supply reaching the 
most remote quarters. But one must go a step further: one must 
till the ground for a saner, a wider spread of the professional 
theatre: if Tyrone Power and Edwin Forrest could tour the South 
when the Choctaw Indian was still roaming the main street, the 
best of our actors should be able to tour the same territory under 
conditions more favorable and before audiences more concen 
trated. For recall that when Power was at Natchez, Mississippi, 
in the 'thirties, he met his audience on horseback coming hither and 
thither from neighboring plantations. At the present time there 


is no thought among the amateurs that some concession must be 
made to the professional theatre. For there should be no com- 
petition between the two. It is very largely the manager's fault 
that he cannot so easily win over to sporadic road companies a 
public which otherwise has been deserted by him for what he con 
siders to be the more productive field the territory between 
Thirty-eighth Street and Fifty -second Street in New York, not 
many feet away on both sides of Broadway. For the past two 
years Mrs. Fiske has literally scoured the available country in a 
star production of The Rivals. In advance of her went Clayton 
Hamilton, a glorified press agent and lecturer, to prepare audi 
ences. The same thing was tried to a more limited degree with 
The School for Scandal, with Walter Eaton at its head, the cour 
ier to bring the good tidings to Tucson and Tulsa (if they did go 
there). That is an expensive method of giving the people an oc 
casional glimpse at an excellent "star". 

But one finds, if one reads the theatre journals and pays atten 
tion to the new movement in the theatre, that all we consider 
vital in a New York season plays that deal with the new order of 
things, plays that are successes from the standpoint, not of the 
box-office, but of the content, would never be seen outside of New 
York except perhaps the conventional circuit of large cities 
unless the Little Art Theatres filled the gaps with performances as 
adequately given as their private means would allow. 

This is healthy, but from one angle it is a menace to the larger 
theatre and a menace to our establishment of a standard of act 
ing. Conditions narrow an actor's territory, whereas, in days 
gone by, our players went from coast to coast and played with 
stock companies ready to receive the "star" and his repertory. 
To the questions I asked in letters sent to the Little Theatres, I 
got many healthy expressions of hope that at no distant date 
they would have the means of establishing a system by which 
travelling "stars" could come to them for special engagements. 
How far the professional "star" would be willing to accede to such 
an arrangement depends on the standing of the individual centre 
asking. I do not believe the solution of our theatre situation is to 
be had in this way. I feel that, were it possible for us to have a 
true accounting of all the money spent on Little Theatre en- 


deavor, it would be found sufficient to finance many professional 
theatres at strategic points throughout the country. And I 
repeat here that only when such a chain is founded, run on a basis 
not so very different from our chain grocery stores, with products 
as interchangeable and as guaranteed, will we begin to find a 
way of mapping out circuits of travel, not disastrous for the pro 
fessional manager, should he show willingness to cooperate. 

The Conference of University Teachers 1 and Little Theatre 
Directors, held last November at Pittsburgh, seemed to be quite 
as much at sea as to the best methods of cooperation as my cor 
respondents. Yet not until such a cooperation is studied and put 
into effect, will the full force of the amateur movement be felt 
throughout the land. The fear of university interest is that it 
will tend to encourage conservatism to a degree as binding as the 
blindness of the commercial manager. It will, nevertheless, aid 
in bringing back into the theatre a certain amount of valuable 
tradition which for many years past has been discarded with the 
thoughtlessness of most revolutionists eager for freedom. There 
may come a day when there will be a revolution against the uni 
versities : but not so long as they have attached to them men with 
such live appreciation of the theatre outside the university as Pro 
fessor Baker has. For after all, no matter how many universities 
adopt theatre arts in their plans of study, no matter how many 
endowments give the universities theatres for experimentation, 
there is the theatre outside, not appealing to university audiences 
but to the public. If the university is going to train the new men 
of the theatre, whether dramatist, actor, scene designer or direc 
tor, it must calculate in its scheme some education of the public 
by extension courses. For there is a public to be trained. 

There is, at the present time, a conflict between the pro 
fessional and nonprof essional theatre workers : a conflict caused by 
their separate endeavors. Miss Anglin once told me that she 
suffered on tour because people were so busy rehearsing and going 
to their own productions that they had no time to come and see 
hers. Mr. Eaton confessed that while groups of people were 
always eager to give tea to a "star" of note, they were rarely seen 
among the audience at night. If a Little Theatre has a programme 

1 This year, in February, at Yale University. 


for a season, its performances are necessary for its very existence. 
In the long run the number of people appealed to in a season 
would make no appreciable effect upon the greater number of 
people who were not subscribers to the Little Theatre. The 
North Shore Little Theatre confesses it stays away from the thea 
trical territory on its tours. But the presence of a Little Theatre 
in a community the size of New Orleans, Cleveland, Pasadena, 
Dallas, indicates that the time may come when the results of 
their pioneer work would encourage the building of another 
theatre in the same town, devoted to the higher grade play done 
professionally. There might be room for both. 

These thoughts cannot be offered with any finality about them. 
The experiment is still in a disorganized state. Let us organize 
the movement outside the professional theatre and see where we 
stand. A theatre survey of the country would be invaluable at 
the present time. I do not believe in standardizing the Little 
Theatre, for the individual local problem is the vital life of the en 
tire movement. Take from these groups the necessity of fulfilling 
a social need and we take a step backward to those days of amateur 
dramatics which we have so recently escaped. 

A map of the United States drawn on the basis of such activity 
as I have here suggested would show that the professional theatre 
territory has shrunk nearly fifty per cent, in the last quarter of a 
century; that every State has its group of Little Theatres doing 
commendable producing and giving plays that are worth while; 
that nearly every State has schools and colleges in full accord with 
the new philosophy of stage craft; that certain centres are creat 
ing their own circuits through which they make seasonal tours. 
It is a healthy view of the country for it shows the real Road not 
dead, but very much alive. How alive will be seen as soon as 
some unifying factor brings these activities to one head, so as to 
indicate to the professional theatre exactly where they may be of 
greatest service to that new theatrical circuit which is needed and 
which must come. 

For with all my interest in university and community and 
civic and otherwise Little Theatres, I look on their endeavor solely 
as a feeder to that larger theatre outside academic and Little 
Theatre walls. 



IN his Story Teller's Story and in Tar, Sherwood Anderson 
tells very satisfyingly about the things one really wants to know 
of a story teller about how his feeling for life grew into some 
thing articulate, and about how the story telling inclination was 
born in him and persisted in him now as a dreamer and now as a 
liar, an ornate and disinterested liar, and now as a discontent who 
did not know that he ought to be doing something particularly 
different from the thing that did not satisfy him; now as an "ad" 
writer whose trade value was greater when he was rumored to have 
sold some fiction but not enough to keep him alive; and finally 
as a manufacturer who one day discovered that, instead of selling 
his goods not very fast, he was actually selling his soul. 

This story, like all other good stories, is a record of interesting 
moments. And the moments almost always mark a release of the 
imagination into fields that like as not are unrelated to the circum 
stances surrounding them. There is a suspicion of oil in the neigh 
borhood, and a well is to be shot. The well shooter becomes a 
figure of romance and mystery. His nitro -glycerine brings up 
nothing but a shower of mud and he is translated into a villain 
about whose duplicity the imagination can linger happily. He is 
rather more satisfying than a successful well. . . . The story 
teller hates the man working next him in a nail factory and re 
members a negro boxer Harry Walters with the quick shift and 
the powerful left. Days of dreaming of the invincible combination 
lead to the moment of picking a quarrel and the paralyzing defeat 
that follows. ... He sits before the managers of a concern 
for which he is to write some advertising. One of them has a 
scar almost concealed by his beard. Into the dim past fades the 
speaker with all his sales talk, and the "ad" writer dreams the 
thrilling story that accounts for the scar. 

So his imagination gains sway and begins casting around for 


stories to tell. They are to be stories in which no man's actions 
are devoid of beauty, and where the teller himself is consciously 
a new product in a new land. This new land turns out to be an 
infinitely complicated and puzzling place. It is a country that, 
first of all, is not England, though the notion that it is persists 
incorrigibly. The blood is a mixture of the thin blue of the Puri 
tans and the redder hues of the dreaming nations of the earth. 
Here are the Celts and the Latins and the nations of the Far 
East pouring into the veins of America a love of beauty and song 
and mirth and of the rightness of things rightly done with capable 
hands. They are the natural breeders of the artist who is fore 
sworn to his devotion for form and color and for the controlled 
ecstacy through which he can fulfil himself. They have made the 
things of lasting beauty and built the great cathedrals at Chartres 
and Venice, and Mont St. Michel, and they have worshipped the 
Virgin. Their peoples have encouraged the artist and enjoyed his 
work and put up with his vagaries, not taking them too seriously. 

And on the other hand, here are the Puritanic English, godly 
and self -deny ing and others -deny ing and fatefully practical, bound 
always to be doing things for which the artist has no zest; so 
eagerly efficient that after clearing the forests and building their 
towns, they set themselves to building up a country to the glory 
of man, and as earnest about it as the French were when they 
builded the Cathedral at Chartres to the glory of God. This was 
their plan," and the affair only blew up in the process, or got per 
verted, because Man, even the brave and free Man, is somewhat 
a less worthy object of glorification than God." For in the mean 
while the machine age had killed the best in man. 

Unconsciously, in talking of either strain in the blood of the new 
America, the story teller comes back to God; and it is in this 
thought that his puzzlement becomes the greatest. The heritage 
of the Puritans, was an ungodly materialism, and the heritage of 
the Celts and the Latins was an ungodly paganism. As for him 
self, he has no God, the gods having been taken away from him 
by the life about him. And yet in a dramatic moment he says : " I 
had an odd and to my own seeming a ridiculous desire to abase 
myself before somethingnot human,and so stepping into the moon 
lit road I knelt in the dust." Never was more devout an atheist. 


Such an atheistical weaver of tales brings his story to a conclu 
sion exactly where he should not to be logical, for I cannot think 
of his bothering about that, but to be reasonable, which he 
doubtless would care to be. For he has become an artist now and 
would like to round out the story of his life with that reasonable 
ness which is the essence of any work of art. So at the end he is 
sitting with a friend before the Cathedral of Chartres where to 
gether they have been worshipping for days. In its presence he 
feels what the old craftsmen felt who built themselves into the fab 
ric of it. His dream is not theirs but the work of their hands helps 
him to do what they did to give shape to his own dream. He 
cannot be content to sit before the cathedral endlessly dreaming 
of old days. He must do as they did and live in the moment, in 
his own country, taking part in its growth. These two worshippers 
from alien soil must return and he, the story teller, must reduce 
his rough material to beauty of form as the stone carvers had 
done at Chartres. To the observer who sees him sitting before 
the cathedral that made him so deeply happy he seems very 
like those old workmen who took no thought of theology and 
vented their religion in work. The thoughtful man who calls 
himself an atheist is often a man who has not found his own 
name for God. 

The man of such experiences, whatever his religious label may 
be, is certain to be a mobile character. He will be a man of shift 
ing moods, susceptible to changing conditions and opinions. 
In the earlier days when the world of circumstance crowded in 
too insistently on the story teller, the thought of the machine 
seemed almost overwhelming. It was standardizing more than 
the product, for it was ironing the workmen out all to one size and 
thickness ; and as they lost their feeling for materials and their zest 
in the use of tools, grossness and lewdness and profanity became 
the pitiable outlets of their thwarted selves. It is an abused 
word these days standardization but the story teller may be 
credited with using it to mean the process which when completed 
is the outward evidence of inward dulness. And yet, on second 
thought, such an interpretation may be more kind than just, for 
this story teller is a poet and a lyric poet at that, using the same 
word to mean different things at different times, because from 


time to time his definitions change with his changing opinion of 
the world. 

Here he is then, thinking about democracy and the machine 
and the deadening standardization it is bringing in its train. It 
may be that he has just seen a swarm of men shuffling out of a 
factory at the end of a day of meaningless repetitions. What is 
such routine going to do to the men and the society they belong 
to those other men in the directors' room with their meaningless 
lust for money? "Democracy shall spread itself out thinner and 
thinner, it shall come to nothing but empty mou things in the end. 
. . . The shrewd little money-getters with the cry 'democracy' 
on their lips shall rule for a time and then the real commoners 
shall come and that shall be the worst time of all." There 
was another poet who shared this mood not long ago: 

Shall all the happy shipmates then 
Stand singing brotherly? 
Or shall a haggard ruthless few 
Warp her over and bring her to 
While the many broken souls of men 
Fester down in the slaver's pen, 
And nothing to say or do? 

That is one mood; but in another the story teller regains his 
confidence: "Standardization is a phase. It will pass. The 
tools and materials of the workman cannot always remain cheap 
and foul. If the machine is to survive it will come again under 
the dominance of the hands of the workman, as it already, no 
doubt, is doing, in a hundred, perhaps a thousand unknown 
places. The day of rediscovery of man by man may not be as 
far off as we fancy." And this, too, that other poet has said: 

For the Brute must bring the good time on; he has no other choice; 
He may struggle, sweat and yell, but he knows exceeding well 
He must work them out salvation ere they send him back to hell. 

However, optimism is all very well only so long as it is hardy 
enough to confront the world of facts. The story teller can es 
cape into the world of fancy, but even his fancy is built on fact. 
And perhaps the most salient fact about American life in his opin 
ion is the kind of fancy with which the average American enveils 


himself. He makes himself a part of an heroic enterprise, a 
gigantic social experiment in which he assumes that the most un 
promising man is a potential hero. The sober fact that this is 
not true affords him all the more reason for clinging to the fancy, 
emboldened to do so by fabulists from Bret Harte to Bill Hart. 

This average American has adopted a hero who is interest 
ingly bad but reassuringly good; he is guilty of every sort of 
offence in the sight of man and of God, but he is capable of becom 
ing high and fine at the utterance of the word "mother" or the 
appearance of a defenceless and immaculate maid. He is an 
agreeable fiction, but he is a dishonest fiction because he is both so 
much worse and so much better than the men and women, the 
novel readers and showgoers and moving picture addicts, who 
admire him and sniffle at his nobler manifestations. He is under 
mining the honesty of a whole people, and laying snares for the 
story tellers who might be honest if left to themselves. "As I sat 
in the movie house it was evident that Bill Hart was being loved 
by all the men, women and children sitting about, and I also want 
to be loved to be a little dreaded and feared too, perhaps. ' Ah ! 
there goes Sherwood Anderson! Treat him with respect. He is 
a bad man when he is aroused. But treat him kindly and he will 
be as gentle with you as any cooing dove!" 

The Sherwood Anderson who had momentary flashes of desire 
to be the bold, bad movie hero was making more of an admission 
than he knew when he confessed to this vain hope. We have all 
had this sort of furtive wish, but we have been amused at the feel 
ing as it passed us, and have smiled at it and gone back to selling 
bonds or making carpet tacks or teaching school. We have 
made our decision for better or for worse and we have stuck to 
it. There has been no compounding with fate for us because the 
thing we yearned for remotely was so remote from the thing 
we were doing. 

But for Sherwood Anderson there was a way out. He could do 
both. What he deliberately chose to do, and what he is doing 
with almost all his energy, was to become the fine craftsman, 
working honestly with the rough material of Middle-Western 
village life and chiseling it into form with the words which are his 
tools. He wanted to carve out the figures inherent in the stones 


that lay on every side. He wanted to work in full respect for the 
fine craftsmanship of the carvers who had wrought before him; 
not to adopt the mere tricks of a trade but to do the essential 
thing that they had done. It was life that he was after and not 
plot. It was the appropriate language that he wanted to use and 
not literary English. He must never lose his real interest in the 
people about him; and when he became aware of a story pleading 
to be told, he must lend himself to the simple people who lived 
it, or might have lived it, and believe in those people until he 
and they were one. But there was still a way out for him when 
the desire to be bold and bad possessed him. In the very reality 
of his people there was an element that the story tellers just 
before him had avoided recognizing. The Victorians had been 
reluctant to acknowledge the persistence of sex feeling. He 
could maintain his artistic integrity by dwelling on this with 
ruthless persistence, and he could be a little shocking in the 
name of art. "There goes Sherwood Anderson. He can be a 
lustful male when he is aroused!" 

Mr. Anderson is in fact a sensitive artist and sensitive to most 
hostile comment. The criticism that any of his characters are 
not worth putting into fiction hurts him; but the criticism that 
he is a wicked man with a wicked mind carries no such sting. It 
may be that he is not fully aware of this himself; just as other men 
and women are not conscious of the subliminal sex feeling on 
which he harps; but to the friendly and unshocked observer he 
does seem to be somewhat Whitmanic in his keeping his hat on 
indoors or out and sounding his barbaric yawp over the roofs of 
the world, or raising the roof if he happens to be in the bedroom 
beneath the eaves. It is too conscious, like the removable front of 
O'NenTs house under the elms. 

The truth about Mr. Anderson's preoccupation with sex lies 
somewhere between the prevailing implications in many of his 
pages and the loudest outcries of his most hostile assailants that 
the problem does not loom so large as he suggests and that he is 
not so morbid as they insist. It is a case of over-emphasis on both 
sides. The sex impulse is only one of several dominant desires. 
Any one of them becomes the more interesting as it pushes its 
way out of proportion. Perfect balance may serve as subject 

VOL, CC3CXJV. NO. 834 10 


matter for statuary, but literature yearns for ruling passions. 
For a century and more, fiction in English has turned to all the 
other abnormals but sex abnormal s. Now it is paying the penalty 
for repression which erred as far on one side as current expression 
does on the other. Among the contemporaries Mr. Anderson is 
doing his share to restore the balance of the age by indulging in 
some degree of unbalance in his own work. And he is doing it 
in a manner that is seldom circumstantial and never sickly. 
Winesburg and Many Marriages are quite as healthy as The Bent 
Tung or The Brimming Cup. There's "a deal of circumambient 
hocus-pocus" among the less outspoken writers; and when the 
balance is restored, as far as Mr. Anderson is concerned, 

. . . we'll think of what he never said 

Of women which, if taken all in all 

With what he did say, would buy many horses. 

Behind and beyond his interest in the relations of men and 
women, and in the passion which is only a part of love, Anderson 
is dealing with the whole experience of men and of women, of 
which love is only a part. In his earlier books, and particularly 
in Marching Men, he seemed to be absorbed in the problems of 
the industrial order and in a sense of responsibility for setting it 
right. Society was chaos, the workmen were a wronged body, 
but a restoration of the rhythm of life was due to set all things 
right in a sentimental millenium. The book seemed almost to 
be the fruit of varying and unrelated moods at one time Rous 
seau and at another Zola, and on the whole Rousseau did him 
no great service by his intervention. 

One reads a passage like this and is not stirred: " Chicago is one 
vast gulf of disorder. Here is the passion for gain, the very 
spirit of the bourgeoisie gone drunk with desire. The result is 
something terrible. Chicago is leaderless, purposeless, slovenly, 
down at the heels. And back of Chicago lie the long cornfields 
that are not disorderly. There is hope in the corn. Spring 
comes and the corn is green." Evidently the writer is stirred, but 
he does not communicate his feeling, because he is putting it 
into worn-out talk. It is soap box invective against the social 
order capped with a eulogy on a benignant nature which teaches 


lessons to a perverse mankind by means of auto-cultured corn 

It is a far cry from this sort of writing to the kind that the 
hero of Marching Men was aspiring to: 

He wanted his true note as an individual to ring out above the hubbub of 
voices and then he wanted to use the strength and virility in himself to carry 
his word far. What he did not want was that his mouth become foul and his 
brain become numb with the saying and thinking of the thoughts of other men 
and that he in his turn become a mere toiling, food-consuming, chattering 
puppet to the gods. 

Mr. Anderson did not hit on this true note of his own until he 
reached the point where he became more interested in what was 
happening in the minds of his individuals than in what was going 
on outside their bodies. They were the same people surrounded 
by the same conditions, but they were no longer mainly significant 
because they were creatures of circumstance. They might even 
be such victors over circumstance as Sponge Martin. 

Sponge is of all people an unremarkable man to look at or listen 
to; he is just one more man in a factory, inactive, unprotesting, 
contented. He lives in a little, old, converted barn on the edge 
of town with his little, ageing, companionable wife. They eat and 
sleep together, and together they have their occasional sprees that 
they call "going fishing". Sponge is a competent workman 
whose hands have become so skilled that he does not need to pay at 
tention to them as his mind runs along in vague memories and his 
tongue in interminable talk. To the restless man at the next 
bench Sponge is a problem. Is he never discontented? Do his 
job, his wife, his home, satisfy him? Is he satisfied with life? 

Bruce decided that the old man was not necessarily self-satisfied. With 
him being satisfied or not satisfied did not count ... he liked the skill of 
his own hands. That gave him something to rest on in life. ... As to 
his old woman there was a thing her man could do better than most men. 
He rested in that fact and his wife rested in him. The man and the woman had 
stayed within the limits of their powers, had moved freely within a small but 
clear circle of life. 

Sponge and his wife are not merely described and dismissed in 
Dark Laughter; they appear and reappear throughout the story. 


They are an undercurrent in the book just as they and their kind 
are an undercurrent in the stream of American life. Many of 
Anderson's contemporaries are pouring out their scorn on char 
acters who do not know enough to be unhappy. This portrait 
of the old Martin couple, painted without prejudice, is one of 
the best in recent literature a notable picture. 

The difference between Marching Men and Dark Laughter is 
parallel to the difference between Anderson the manufacturer 
and Anderson the author. When he had passed from thinking of 
men as slaves to the industrialism from which he had escaped, and 
had come to thinking of men and women as living in a world of 
primary experiences so vital that their inciting causes faded into 
unimportance, the factory lost interest as a factory and the slum 
as a slum. The one matter that counted was to catch the rare 
moments when people were really living and to find the words 
that could record these moments. 

And these rare moments were the moments when individuals 
were able to surmount or penetrate or break down the walls by 
which they were cut off from their fellows. The metaphor, once 
noted, recurs insistently throughout the stories. The wall, the 
wall, the wall. Only now and again do humans come into each 
others' spiritual presences. Partners, plotters, husbands and 
wives, are all held apart by impalpable barriers. 

Men had themselves built the walls and now stood behind them, knowing 
dimly that beyond the walls there was warmth, light, air, beauty life in fact 
while at the same time and because of a kind of madness in themselves, the 
walls were constantly being built higher and stronger. 

Elsewhere he alludes and realludes to the wall as a constant in 
all his observations on men and women. 

Let him change the metaphor. Enough has been said, perhaps 
too much, about materials. As to his processes, he has become 
"a word fellow"; words are his brothers; they have delivered him 
from thralldom; now he will serve them all the rest of his life. 
Nothing attracts him so much as a pile of white paper on which 
he can scribble the words that want to be inscribed. 

The result of the scribbling, the tale of perfect balance, all the elements of 
the tale understood, an infinite number of adjustments perfectly made, the 


power of self-criticism fully at work, the shifting surface of word values and 
color in full play, form and the rhythmic flow of thought and mood marching 
forward with the sentences these are the things of a dream, of a far dim day 
toward which one goes knowing one can never arrive but infinitely glad to 
be on the way. 

It is a marked fact about Sherwood Anderson's prose style 
that you close a book feeling that on the whole you have been 
reading poetry that you have been through a variety of expe 
riences with him and that some of them have been homely and 
some ugly and some very beautiful. You remember perhaps in 
a definite way certain passages that jarred, and you remember 
that probably or certainly he wanted to jar you with them. And 
you recall others that you deplore on grounds of taste taste 
either in style or in subject because you can see no special 
reason for the thing that he undertook to do. You realize all 
the while that in his later books he does one thing he pursues 
the minds of his characters, finds out what thoughts, relevant 
or irrelevant, the stream of events arouses in them, and then ex 
presses these thoughts in the idiom of the people whom they are 
invading; for after all, while we may feel in thrills or glows or 
raspings, we think in words and phrases. Always he has the 
dramatist's approach to his men and women, expressing them in 
their own ways. So you condone or accept or admire his method 
and you call it "sympathetic interpretation" or something of 
the sort, when he deals with the rough or vulgar character. Yet 
at the same time there persists the feeling that you have been 
reading poetry interspersed with passages of sheer beauty, pas 
sages that can be located and labeled like the passages that you 
have deplored. 

In his recording, then, of "pure, crude fact, Secreted from man's 
life when hearts beat hard, And brains high-blooded, tick," cru 
dity is sometimes consciously in the ascendant. Here is a young 
vagrant in a New Orleans rooming house in the half dream of 
first awakening: 

You get a cup of such coffee for five cents and a big roll of bread. No 
swill. In Chicago, morning coffee at cheap places is like swill. Niggers like 
good things. Good^big sweet words, flesh, corn, cane. Niggers like a free 
throat for song. You're a nigger down South and you get some white blood 


in you. A little more, and a little more. Northern travelers help, they say. 
Oh, Lord! Oh, my banjo dog! 

That is a lyric of a sort, but here is one of another sort on the 
same subject: 

Word-lovers, sound-lovers the blacks seemed to hold a tone in some warm 
place, under their red tongues, perhaps . Their thick black lips were walls under 
which the tones hid . . . the words coming from the throats of the black 
workers could not be understood by the boy but were strong and lovely. 
Afterwards when he thought of that moment Bruce always remembered the 
singing voices of the negro deck-hands as colors. Streaming reds, browns, 
golden yellows coming out of black throats. . . . There were strange words 
about a * banjo dog '. What was a * banjo dog ' ? " Ah, my * banjo dog ' ! Oh, oh ! 
Oh, oh! Ah, my 'banjo dog! ' " 

And here is one of the second sort on a different subject: 

In old gardens in Europe and in some American places, where there are 
trees and thick bushes, a certain effect is achieved by setting small white 
figures on columns among the deep foliage, and Aline in fancy metamorphosed 
herself into such a white, dainty figure. She was a stone woman leaning over 
to raise to her arms a small child who stood with upraised hands, or she was a 
nun in the garden of a convent pressing a cross against her breast. As such 
a tiny stone figure she had no thoughts, no feelings. What she achieved was 
a kind of occasional loveliness among the dark night foliage of the garden. 

Yet one has only to hunt for such passages as the latter two, 
or to quote them, to prove that the essential quality of Mr. An 
derson's prose cannot be isolated in this way. It could only be 
illustrated in excerpts long enough to give evidence of its perva 
sive energy and its mobile flexibility. It is a medium for that 
sort of American life to which he was born and to which he is 
devoting himself . This is far from all of America, and it is part 
of America whose fineness is crudely articulated and largely 
devoid of nice nuances of manner. There are other writers for 
those who are not interested in this raw material* But in his 
treatment of it Sherwood Anderson in each succeeding book is 
better fulfilling his hope to make "his true note as an individual 
ring out above the hubbub of voices and then ... to use the 
strength and virility within himself to carry his word far." 



JUDGING both from his work and from his photographs, one 
would be inclined to suspect that there are two Roberto Braccos ! 
In fact, as one looks at the picture taken of this Neapolitan 
gentleman twenty -five years ago, when he was about forty, one 
sees in his open, jovial face with its generous features, benevolent 
eyes, heavily flamboyant moustache and rather portly outline, 
the very incarnation of the Neapolitan spirit, full of sunshine, 
thirsty for the physicality of life, super-expansive, merrily 
alive, yet hiding behind the superficial boisterousness of the 
typical Southerner and the sensuous lines of the unrestrained 
viveur a suggestion of deep meditation. Then as one looks at 
Bracco, as was my privilege last summer, one finds that, at sixty- 
six the more sensuous suggestions of his still jovial face have given 
way to the spiritual ; his hair has wisely retreated, leaving a broadly 
dominating brow; his eyes, smaller as if sharpened by constant 
observation, are infinitely penetrating; even his moustache has 
forsaken its rococo aspirations and is reduced to modest, business 
like proportions. His face, still remarkably youthful, has gained 
in its pensive gauntness a new aspect, one less local, more refined 
and more, shall I say, universal. Bracco at forty was still the 
embodiment of Naples, the gaudy, superarticulate, quasi-Oriental 
city of color and sound; at sixty-five he is rather the embodiment 
of the new Italy, tempered by the ordeal of war, laborious and 
pensive. And in this versatile writer we shall always find these 
antipodal aspects : the fervor of the flesh and the abstraction of the 
spirit, the quest of laughter and the clutch of grief, glimmering 
surfaces and unsounded depths. 

His output has been abundant. Besides a few books of stories, 
poems and essays, his plays alone, counting long dramas, comedies, 
farces and dramatic sketches, fill ten substantial volumes. From 


the careful reading of these volumes I have derived such delight 
and such a suggestively human edification that I am very eager 
to share, at least in part, this experience. 

Bracco drifted into the dramatic profession quite by accident 
that peculiar element of accidentality or is it fate? which 
seems to play such an occult and important part in the profes 
sions of us all. Let me tell how it happened. 

One day Bracco was then a young man, the free lance of 
local journalism, the budding Narcissus of Neapolitan society and 
the all-devastating Don Juan of feminine pulchritude happened 
most inopportunely to burn off, probably while lighting a mere 
cigarette, the more flamboyant end of one side of his moustache. 
Overwhelmed by this catastrophe he found himself forced to 
stay at home until natural growth should restore to normal sym 
metry the black ornaments of his upper lip. It was during this 
forced retirement that he was asked by Novelli, the leading Italian 
actor, to write a little curtain raiser. To pass the time he wrote 
Do not do unto others ... a ridiculous farce which, given its 
superficial scope, was very successful. Thus casually was Bracco 
launched into his profession. How pregnant with literary poten 
tiality were that fortuitous cigarette and that highly inflammable 

In his early plays Bracco indulged much in the farcical, mani 
festing a vein of humor which has never forsaken him. But his 
technique was artificial, his characters were more sketched cari 
catures than real people, his plots seemed to dwell with perpetual 
insistence on that triangle situation which invaded all fiction 
most perniciously in the 'eighties and 'nineties, that is, at 
the height or shall I say the depth? of the naturalistic move 
ment, and which seems to have been for Bracco almost an ob 

But fortunately Bracco soon found more varied social and in 
dividual problems around which to erect his dramatic structures, 
filling them with vibrantly real characters. To one type of motive 
in particular he was gradually attracted, a motive which we find 
treated with increasing richness in four of his best plays, ranging 
chronologically from 1895 to 1922. "These form," as he said 
himself in a letter to me, "the more personal cycle of my dramas, 


in which I have shown, not through premeditation but impulse, 
that one may, with scenic synthesis, penetrate the human soul 
down to its most recondite secrets. " In this sentence is revealed 
the goal of his art, a goal difficult of attainment within the limita 
tions and conventions of a stage, difficult to make convincing to 
the mixed public of a theatre, but a goal magnificently audacious, 
worthy of challenging only a man of tested technique, of re 
sourceful imagination and trained meditation. Others had to 
some extent visualized this goal, particularly in France, but it re 
mained for Bracco, I believe, more nearly to approach its artistic 

Let us examine briefly the first of these plays. In // Trionfo 
(Triumph) (1895) the protagonist, Lucio, is convalescent. He 
has been saved mostly by the constant nursing of a young woman 
for whom he consequently has deep respect and gratitude. While 
his flesh is still weak, the illusion of so-called Platonic love holds 
complete sway over his spirit, while the girl, who is quite normal, 
and indeed endowed with a warm Southern temperament, loves 
with the appetite of the senses a love which can hardly be 
satisfied with mere spiritual admiration. She admits coquet- 
tishly, in a confidential talk with him, that once or twice before in 
her career she has succumbed to what is often termed a temporary 
aberration of the flesh. To him this makes no difference at all, 
since his only concern is the friendship of her spirit. But to his 
friend, a man of ebullient nature, who is on the spot and feels for 
her not Platonic but intense physical attraction, she is now an 
irresistible invitation, of which, one balmy spring evening, he 
takes sudden advantage. Her confession of this new deviation 
fills Lucio with pain, a pain that he cannot logically reconcile with 
his Platonic theories, but one that, in spite of them, becomes rage 
and jealousy. Then only does he realize that, after all, he was 
wrong, and that these two young animals had but functioned in 
accordance with the unavoidable law of nature; a law which, 
particularly in Naples, finds very little, if any, opposition through 
those restraints that are our New England inheritance. 

The plot is, as you see, rather simple. The one motive that 
interests us here is that, in a very elementary form, we have in this 
man a divergence between conscious thought and subconscious 


instinct. For he is genuinely convinced that his thought, hence 
forth, is above and beyond the vulgarity of the flesh; he sincerely 
believes he is about to attain that ideal spirituality of affection 
that will place his relationship with his charming benefactress 
above all material vicissitudes; but when the crisis comes he is 
forced to discover that life, with its brutal reality, pursues its 
laws quite regardless of the theories of idealists. 

Now two or three critics have found a parallel to, and therefore 
a source for, this play in Hauptmann's Lonely Lives. Aside from 
the fact that Bracco denied, at the time, all knowledge of the 
German play, let us note at least one difference in treatment. 
Hauptmann's hero is a married man in perfect health, though 
temperamental, while Bracco's Lucio is convalescent after a very 
severe illness. The Italian has the illusion of Platonic love only 
while his physical weakness has seriously subdued his virility. 
We might even say that Bracco's man, subconsciously, was 
normally in love, though his peculiar condition made him un 
aware of it. And this is as it should be, for while we might 
perhaps attribute to a Northerner such theoretical visions, we 
can hardly imagine them seriously adopted by a Southerner, 
much less by a fiery Neapolitan. In fact, we may here indulge in 
a generalization which is a truism, and say that there always is in 
the people, and therefore in the art of the North, a greater trend 
toward the austere and the imaginative, as the logical result of 
climate and other influences, while in the people, and therefore 
in the art, of the South, there is an antipodal trend toward the 
sensuous and the realistic, also a logical result of climate, which 
in the South makes life easier and more colloquial. 

The second play that we shall examine is La Piccola Fonte 
(The Hidden Spring) (1905), a play that appeals to my taste first 
because it so delightfully shows the touch of the poet, and secondly 
because, indirectly, it is a vehement satire against that Nietzschean 
influence which so captured many Italian writers, and against its 
most pernicious form represented by Nietzsche's decadent 
apostle, D'Annunzio. In fact the protagonist of this drama is 
burdened with the illusion that he is not merely a society writer, 
but a Superman endowed with infinite potentialities. With the 
cruelty of conceit that goes with such characters, he neglects and 


despises his frail, virtuous little wife, who has been the real hidden 
spring of his inspiration, and he runs madly after an adventuress, 
dazzling with meretricious paint and jewelry, and flattering with 
her empty phrases. Gradually the frail little wife, stricken in that 
love which was all in her life, succumbs heartbroken, and after 
several racking episodes loses her mind. A third personage, 
however, reveals himself, a sort of Rigoletto, half secretary, half 
jester, the humble, deformed pet dog of the family, who secretly 
worships the little lady. When the poetaster, still determined to 
follow the gilded adventuress, prepares to leave his wife in an 
asylum under the supervision of the hunchback, then we have an 
intensely pathetic scene in which the poor devil at last pours out 
to his lady the devotion of a stifled soul. And him alone the poor 
demented woman understands. "I sit near you, I look at you," 
he blurts out at last; " I speak to you freely, and I live the sweetest 
hour of my life. Were you not the victim of a great calamity, 
this hour would not be granted me." Unconsciously, at the touch 
of devotion which had been the one motive of her life, the woman 
has a moment of clarity. "Yes, you convince me," she says, 
naively, "and I think we two shall understand each other 
perfectly. Let us speak, ... let us speak of everything." 
Innocently she draws him close to her: "Let us speak as if we were 
good friends. " This is her only moment of clarity and his only 
moment of happiness, for the husband, in a tardy impulse of re 
morse, returns, and the spirit of the frail wife, driven back to its 
mad darkness, seeks solace in death in that very sea which had 
been, after her love, her one refuge. 

In thus giving the bare skeleton of a richly human story, I have 
had to omit the pictorial frame, the subsidiary episodes which so 
subtly echo the pathos of the main plot; I have been unable to 
render the poetry of word and action that delicately pervades 
every scene; the skilful sequence of motives that bring about the 
catastrophe. Let me call attention, however, to the wretched 
hunchback lover. In the heavily sophisticated atmosphere that 
surrounds the poetaster and his gaudy adventuress, the lowly 
lover stands out as a primitive soul, whose emotional reactions 
are natural and direct. Our sympathy goes out to him, not only 
because he is unfortunate, but because, primitive though he is, 


or perhaps because of this, he is genuine, unwittingly mirroring 
an essential human emotion, indeed the greatest of human emo 
tions. This undercurrent of simple, hopeless devotion, flowing 
almost silently through the more pictorial and exterior episodes of 
the drama, gives it an elegiac tone full of poetic beauty. It is this 
poetic quality, particularly manifest in this play, but never lack 
ing in Bracco, which gives to his writing additional artistic 
dignity and enchantment, even when the subject matter is some 
what unpalatable and most realistic. 

II Piccolo Santo (The Little Saint) was first given in 1912. 
The five acts all occur in the same place, the austere apartment of 
a middle-aged country priest, whose exemplary life and magnetic 
kindness have won him the name of Saint. He lives alone, 
except for a peculiar, half-witted boy, whose life he had saved 
some years ago when the lad had slipped down a steep embank 
ment. Ever since the boy has had only wits enough to follow 
and serve his savior with the abject obedience of an animal. 

There soon arrive, separately, at the ascetic retreat of the 
priest, two persons : one is his brother, whom he had not seen for 
twenty-four years. He had lived in South America from childhood 
and had developed into a happy, sophisticated, successful busi 
ness man and Don Juan; the other person is a timid young girl, 
who had been urged by her dying mother to seek the protection 
of the holy man. Don Fiorenzo, the priest, it now appears, had, 
in his early youth, passionately loved a lady married to an un 
worthy man, and had, out of his disappointment, forever with 
drawn from the world. Here comes this young creature, the 
very image of the once beloved mother, to stir up in the poor 
Saint painful reminiscences of a love which he thinks buried 
twenty years ago. And the girl, now alone in the world, and 
even without real faith, finds immediately in the excellent priest a 
strong counsellor, one who soon reawakens in her the fervor of 
Christian faith, thus giving her a fresh outlook upon life. But 
the young brother also sees the girl, and soon falls in love with 
her. Don Fiorenzo, noticing the trend of events, thinks it be 
hooves him to protect his ward against any possible seduction on 
the part of his brother. The latter soon reveals, however, that 
his intentions are earnestly directed toward marriage. But the 


girl, now deeply absorbed by the mystic fervor instilled in her by 
the priest, feels no response at all for the brother. The priest, 
conscience-stricken for having so thrust the obstacle of his 
asceticism into her naive soul, thinks it now behooves him to 
persuade her to let her heart go out to her wooer in normal, 
virtuous manner. In great agitation he does this, his nobler 
sense of duty prodding him to open to love her still closed heart, 
and his own spirit in torment at this mysteriously distressing 
duty. Always, during these developments, Barbarello, the half 
witted boy, skulks around silently, full of gratitude and obedience, 
and clinging to every mood of his kind master. Gradually the 
girl yields to the great devotion of the younger man, and the day 
of the marriage is settled, much to the delight of the fiance. In 
Don Fiorenzo's soul instead there has come a great and terrible 
desolation; his very faith seems to waver, his whole life seems to 
have reached an anguished crisis that he is unable to comprehend, 
except that in spite of his ever excellent motives some form of 
happiness seems again to be forsaking him. He is becoming 
petulant, his nights are sleepless, he is even impatient with the 
mumbling half-wit who seems unaccountably to share his master's 
suffering. Don Fiorenzo is even physically overwhelmed, so that 
he is unable to witness the marriage ceremony. When the curtain 
rises on the fifth act the young married people have been living in 
an apartment immediately above that of the priest, whom they 
have not seen for two months. In fact the young husband finds 
that the mystic influence of his brother priest is even at that 
distance such a restraint, almost an incubus, on the young wife, 
that he suddenly decides to take her far away to South America. 
This news strikes the priest like a death blow. Almost without 
words or strength he bids farewell to the beloved couple, while 
the demented boy stands by, taking upon himself the unjust re 
buke of the priest, who has just seen, for the last time, his own 
brother, and the image of his youthful dream. The bitterness of 
the priest mysteriously communicates itself to the half-witted 
boy, who has been for years the living barometer of his pro 
tector's moods, and, upon seeing the priest sink desperately in his 
chair in his now utterly desolate home, silently the boy rushes 
out and soon comes back with a cry of savage exultation. He 


took advantage of the dark and thrust the young husband over 
the cliff. When the poor priest in an orgasm of horror cries to 
him: "What have you done, what have you done?" the demented 
boy naively shouts: "It was for you, for you!" and the curtain 
falls on the prostrate form of the wretched Little Saint. 

Surely the subtle drama of the priest is clear. A holy man, 
endowed with a magnetic personality so benevolent as to give 
him the reputation of sanctity, even of supernatural power, he 
is, however, unaware that subconsciously the young girl has 
awakened in him the old passion which had slumbered for twenty 
years, but had not died. With the kindest, most scrupulously 
noble intentions in the world, he thrust upon his protegee the 
fervor of his religion, of his mysticism, almost in unconscious self 
defense, and with a potency by which she felt herself inexplicably 
overwhelmed. For subconsciously it stirred her heart as much as 
her soul, so much so in fact as to make her well nigh invulnerable 
to the passionate exhortations of her young wooer. Then there 
occurred, subconsciously, a mighty struggle between the two 
brothers, the younger one openly seeking to capture the girl's 
heart, but without the power of conquering it absolutely; the 
older one trying with all the might of his personality and all the 
fervor of his dutiful conscience to make her yield to his brother, 
but involuntarily, subconsciously drawing her frailer spirit to 
himself. And during this supreme struggle all the time lurking 
in the background is the subnormal boy; he too perhaps endowed 
with some exceptional power, the sort of half power and half in 
stinct that savages, insane men and even animals are known to 
have. He is unable, as much as the others, to comprehend the 
subtle conflict going on around him, and yet senses the anguish of 
his master's heart until, interpreting it, he bestially takes action 
in his own hands and slays the one person who, in physical terms, 
stood between his master and happiness. 

Perhaps I ought here to quote the words of Bracco in his 
Preface to this play, a Preface which may well some day assume 
great significance in the history of the drama. He says : 

With this drama I am attempting, again, an art which seems too vague to 
those not inclined to grant me an acutely active perception, and to those who, 
even disposed to grant it, have not the faculty of sharpening their thought in 


the exercise of migration toward the thought of others. The essential elements 
which make up in brief pictures my new play, almost never have a direct and 
consonant expression, because they dwell in the depth of the existence of 
creatures whose words and acts do not correspond with their psyche, except 
very obscurely and ambiguously, or actually diverge from it like branches from 
a trunk. The continuous dissension which is determined, now more or less 
deeply, now more or less unconsciously, between the psyche of the creatures 
imagined by me and their manifestations, constitutes the invisible thread of 
dramatic development and implies the absolute impossibility of setting forth 
the painful content of the drama in the exteriority of action. It is exactly this 
impossibility . . . which attracted me, challenging me. . . . 

Then, after refuting his detractors, who insisted that the theatre 
cannot admit the purpose of making people understand that 
which is not expressed by the words or the actions of the personages, 
and admitting their prudent wisdom, he adds: 

However, I insist on believing, imprudently, that a synthetic aggregate of 
significant signs may well impart to the scene that transparency necessary to 
make comprehensible even that which is not actually expressed. 

These words of Bracco set forth succinctly his dramatic goal, 
the problem, its challenge, and the method adopted. Must we 
not admire this dramatist who, having already mastered the 
ordinary technique of the drama and harboring a richly imagi 
native mind, yet scorned easy applause with the usual type of 
play in order to venture forth into complexities wherein he heard 
the call of new artistic opportunity? 

One might well say that the poet has more and more in these 
plays shown a leaning toward peculiar aspects of human nature, 
though always mingling such peculiarities with normal human 
attributes, and thus establishing a substantial kinship with us. 
And one might also add that, given a technique so delicately 
subtle, such plays might not always be convincingly acted, or find 
audiences so keenly discerning as fully to comprehend their rich 
significance. These justifiable remarks would be especially con 
gruous if applied to the last of Bracco's plays, which I shall now 
briefly describe. 

I Pazzi (The Insane) was published in 1922, and by express de 
sire of the author was never produced on the stage. Is this an 
admission of weakness on the part of the author, or does it reflect 


on the perspicacity of an average audience? Perhaps it does 
neither. Here Bracco, challenged by what we might possibly 
call an academic question, attempted to translate it into art? 
and preferred the dramatic form. The privilege of choice was 
certainly his. 

The substance of the problem can be set forth in very few 
words: Who is utterly sane, who is utterly normal? Where can 
we truly draw a distinct line of demarcation? Are not all of us 
subject to passions which thrust ourselves and our actions, even 
though temporarily, beyond the bounds of strict rationality? 
Are not most of us subject to obsessions, idiosyncracies, which, 
even though ever so slight, are none the less actual deviations 
from the strictly normal and rational? This is the question that 
tempted Bracco and around which he conjured another throbbing 

The protagonist of the story is a rich alienist, who has founded 
a sanitarium for the mentally abnormal, whom he cures by giving 
them serenity of surroundings and spiritual idealism. His own 
serenity, however, is marred by continuous, though unfounded, 
suspicions about his wife's fidelity. This is, therefore, an 
obsession, a form of monomania, though the alienist himself is 
unconscious of his own abnormality. He so harps on this tor 
ment that finally his wife, though still loving him, decides that 
she must leave him. A friend of his has, as his philosophy of life, 
the complete dedication of himself to the joys of the senses a 
D'Annunzian hedonism which is really not a rational conclusion, 
but a result of his physical condition in short also a monomania. 
His willing auxiliary in this easy philosophy is a young and care 
less courtesan of Slavic extraction. In her accidental interview 
with the famous alienist, who finds her to be of primitive men 
tality, a young animal without a developed soul, she decides to 
enter his sanitarium, where, under his constant guidance she 
gradually acquires a conscience, and is even able, in mental 
discipline, to forget the lure of her former life. Naturally she 
feels for the doctor a grateful veneration, which, subconsciously, 
is nothing but love, in a form sublimated and therefore new to her; 
yet such is the goodness instilled into her by the doctor that, when 
she sees his wife returning to him, she crushes her own impelling 


impulse and brings together the estranged couple. But her self- 
sacrifice is so desperate that she is well-nigh ready to return to 
her ever pleading, sensuous lover. The latter, however, realizing 
that now that she has acquired a soul conscious of good and evil, 
all he could obtain of her would be her body, refuses this op 
portunity, leaving her, to seek at least the consolations of prayer. 

Again, in telling the story, I have omitted several contributory 
elements which give it significance and cumulative pathos. Yet, 
even in its complete form this play has not the power of the Little 
Saint. First of all, it lacks the tremendous import of the other; 
its climax is weak, in technique it is too discussional, and manip 
ulates some material which had been used before, and better, 
even by Bracco himself. The motive of excessive jealousy, for 
example, he had treated splendidly in Phantoms, a play I have not 
had space to mention. Moreover, the old romantic motive of the 
courtesan reformed by love surely is no longer convincing, or even 
interesting. Some might also object to bringing upon the state a 
clinic, a device resorted to before by the naturalistic school, to 
which, in a way, Bracco belongs. 

But let us note, coming now to a more general appraisal of the 
poet, that he has never gone to excesses, held back by a modera 
tion that is his very sense of art, and that, even when portraying 
the low life of Naples, he has been able to put into his pictures an 
idealism, which is perhaps his most salient quality. For though he 
has all of the Neapolitan exuberance of expression, the pictorial 
effusiveness of a Southerner, and even a naturalistic eagerness for 
the unusual, he has been able to combine with these a lofty 
spirituality. Not an obtrusive moralism, though, for even his 
pieces a these are never primarily didactic. 

And this leads to two or three statements in conclusion. I feel 
that modern Italians have no craving for the manifestly didactic 
in literature. They are too sophisticated, too much of an old 
race, to desire a naive moral. What they want is a picture of life, 
essentially true, above all emotionally true, from which the 
moral, if we should insist on calling it so, would merely be : Such is 
life, with its mysterious retaliations, its inevitable distribution of 
a little gladness and much grief, both consequences of our in 
stinctive quest of joy. Italians do not want a sermon, but a 

TOL. CCXXIV. NO. 884 11 


picture. And the picture to be profoundly true must not stop at 
the froth of laughter which is on the surface of life, but delve into 
the unsounded tragedy beneath. Fatally we are bound to obey 
our human instincts, and, in thus obeying them, bound to deviate, 
carrying with us even the guiltless. Sometimes, indeed, from the 
very best of us will come influences that inexplicably make for 
evil. For life, hi its mysterious decrees, offers no immunities. 
This, then, is the everlasting tragedy, inasmuch as human nature 
does not change with our changing exteriorities. 

This may seem pessimistic, but is it not essentially real? We 
should be grateful to Bracco, who visualized and then with the 
magic touch of art manifested to us the real; who scrutinized the 
ever mysterious forces of the human spirit, seeking in new 
problems, or new aspects of old problems, the universal truth. 


PALMEBSTON. By Philip Guedalla. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons. 

THERE is something surpassingly contemporary about Lord 
Palmerston. Although Mr. Guedalla's painstaking, full-length 
portrait suffers somewhat from an over-elaboration of irrelevant 
detail, and is deficient in the chiaroscuro which might reveal the 
essential features of a remarkably astute, vigorous and candid 
statesman, his fidelity and scholarship cannot fail to supply the 
total truth about the man who, more than any other, kept Eng 
land English during the international visionary -liberal and reac 
tionary waves of the first half of Victoria's reign. 

Mr. Guedalla has prefaced his volume with the revealing and 
apt quotation, 

In spite of all temptations 
To belong to other nations, 
He remains an Englishman. 

This is not so nonsensical as it sounds. Palmerston's was 
an age in which all statesmen were tempted to belong to 
other nations. On one occasion he was compelled to remon 
strate to Victoria that his Queen desired him to act as a Minister, 
not of England, but of the German States. First it was the 
internationalism of Metternich and the Holy Alliance. Later 
it was the Austrophobia engineered by Russian diplomacy. Then 
came Albert and the Saxe-Coburg-Gothas, the Orleanists, the 
Bonapartists, the radicals, the oppressed Italians, Poles, Hunga 
rians and Eastern Christians. While mass propaganda still 
waited on the spread of literacy, the English statesmen were con 
stantly assailed by foreign counsels. The British Royal family 
intrigued with their Continental relatives, and exerted a power 
over British foreign policy comparable to the later efforts of 
"international bankers." It was difficult to remain an English 
man, and it is Palmerston's glory that he succeeded. 

His was a long political career, one of the longest on record 


fifty-five years in high office. Born in 1784, by the candlelight 
of "the age of common sense and couplets", at Broadlands 
between the sea and the New Forest, he imbibed a lusty Squire 
Western touch in his blood. At one, "he was a fine, eager, 
lively, good-humored" baby; at four, "quite stout, with a fine 
high color." He went to Harrow in 1795, fought frequently 
with the other boys ("Palmerston never lost a faint air of the 
milling ground "), studied for three years at Edinburgh University 
(in default of the Grand Tour which Napoleonic antics had made 
uncomfortable), went up to St. John's College, Cambridge, in 
1803, and three years later matriculated and received an M.A. 
on the same day. His parents were dead, and England had need 
of the young Viscount who had been plain Henry John Temple 
in 1802. He was a gentleman, landed, titled, healthy, so hand 
some that he was dubbed "Cupid" so, with the charming infor 
mality of the age, he was offered the Exchequer. He refused, 
saying he thought the War Office "better suited to a beginner" 
and in the War Office he remained from 1809 till 1828, doing 
nothing in particular and doing it very well indeed. 

He was an ardent Canningite, and entered heart and soul into 
the latter's fight to free England from subservience to Metter- 
nich's European system. He had learned, moreover, from Napo 
leon the value of preparedness. Always accused of truculence, 
he never provoked a serious conflict and could show a better 
record than the muddlers who later let England drift unprepared 
into the Crimean struggle. In this more recent age of paci 
fism and internationalism, different only in name from that which 
Palmerston deprecated, it is useful to reflect on some of his views: 

He was fully persuaded that among nations weakness would never be a 

foundation for security. 

* * * 

No doubt it would be most agreeable to a nation if its defence could be 
provided for by an army of angels, without any effort of its own. 

Mr. Guedalla relates with accuracy and humor his course at 
the Foreign Office from 1830 until 1851, with the background of 
European troubles Mehemet Ali in Syria, the dynastic squabbles 
in Spam, Portugal and Belgium, the revolutions of 1830 and 1848 


neatly interlarded with the Parliamentary politics of the time. 
His brief interval as Home Secretary under Aberdeen and his 
apotheosis as Prime Minister from 1855 until 1865 are fully illu 
minated by documentation and insight. 

Mr. Guedalla thus outlines a career which began with Napoleon, 
survived Talleyrand and Metternich, and closed with Lincoln 
and Bismarck. In this career "Pam" realized his two great 
ambitions: "one the suppression of the slave trade (which proba 
bly accounts for his violent dislike of the American Government), 
the other to put England in a state of defence". He helped to 
restore what a later age was to dub self-determination in Belgium, 
Italy, Germany though he was unable to do aught practical for 
Poland or Hungary and wisely refrained from raising hopes which 
he would be unable to satisfy. He even dallied with the idea of a 
Jewish National Home in Palestine. 

His goal throughout his career was not isolation, not inter 
vention, not Jingoism. It was the simple aim of Canning: to 
make England "a model, and ultimately, perhaps, an umpire." 
He believed in an English England and wished that other nations 
would be themselves. For instance, in the Peninsula "the 
object [of his policy] was that there should be neither an Austrian 
Spain nor a French Spain, but a Spain which should be Spanish." 

He succeeded in maintaining this policy in spite of Victoria's 
incredibly stupid meddling when she wrote her Foreign Minister 
and informed him that he was "not to oppose French influence in 
Spain and not to attempt to get up an English party there." 
When the Spanish marriages of 1846 exposed Louis Philippe's 
duplicity, Victoria owned Palmerston was right, but five years 
later she engineered his resignation to feed the grudge of her ex 
iled Orleanist friends, after he had encouraged Louis Napoleon. 

It was difficult enough to be English under those circumstances, 
let alone to be an English umpire. However, the Empire pros 
pered mightily. Palmerston wound up the Crimea, polished off 
the Mutiny, strengthened his hand in Canada and in the Far 
East. He regarded a battalion and a man of war as the normal 
instruments of British policy, but saw to it that British policy 
should be away from "entangling alliances", and toward the 
position of "arbiter." In consequence, he was as unpopular on 


the Continent in his day as is "Uncle Shylock" in ours. The 
British court nicknamed him Pilgerstein. Austrian officials grew 
apoplectic at the sight of his signature. The Germans dismally 

Hat der Teufel einen Sohn, 
So ist er sicker Palmerston! 

Yet all his unpopularity abroad only endeared him to the British 
public, who liked his rough, rollicking humor, his short way with 
foreigners, his spirited defence of British interests whenever and 
wherever threatened. He "was a friendly presence, who hunted, 
danced at Almack's, and ran horses at country race-meetings". 
He could exclaim when Miguel, the Portuguese pretender, burned 
large quantities of port, "There never was so atrocious an out 
rage!" His long love for Lady Cowper and his belated marriage 
to her, his "darling Em", made him dear to his day. He was a 
fine man, a fine statesman, and his career is worthy of serious 
study by all Americans. He faced for England the same prob 
lems which confront us today. He solved them as Americans 
will solve them, by a firm reliance on the justice and strength of 
his own country. 



THE NEW UNIVERSE: An Outline of the Worlds in Which We Live. By 
Baker Brownell. New York: D. Van Nostrand Company. 

Here is a book to stagger reviewers. How does one classify 
and briefly describe a work done with care, beauty and humor 
but dealing with every subject under the seven heavens and dis 
cussing, through heaped-up poetic metaphors, whether there are 
seven heavens? 

Of it the author says, after pointing out the dangers of modern 
specialization and of the boundary lines we establish between 
fields of knowledge: "As for the book, it is a smuggling expedition 
in knowledge. It is a cosmic globe-trotter without passports. 
It will slip as quietly as possible over boundaries and all section 
lines without official notice. , It will be a book of the whole 


world, a tune for the new universe, a poem, more or less, on things 
in general." 

Perhaps so it should stand to the reader as an amazing record 
of one man's success in orienting himself to the universe. But 
the book has a history which explains its structure and gives it 
an educational interest. 

By 1923 colleges were beginning to whisper that knowledge 
had become too voluminous to be handled entirely by old meth 
ods : that there was little choice between a narrow specialization, 
and a dabbling in a distracting array of unrelated subjects, since 
in both cases the student was left inadequate to comprehend 
and deal with our highly complicated life. Some colleges sug 
gested that freshmen be given a preliminary survey of the cur 
riculum. Northwestern University offered instead a synthetic 
course for seniors, graduates and special students. As all were 
partly familiar with the subject matter, ground was covered 
quickly without too much superficiality; as all were relatively 
mature and experienced, a philosophic and intuitive treatment 
was possible. 

The course was "Problems of Contemporary Thought", by 
Baker Brownell and assisting lecturers from various fields. The 
students ranged from typical university seniors to grizzled news 
paper men. There were young matrons, older ones, graduates 
of several colleges, school teachers, World War veterans and burn 
ing intellectuals from the Orient. The disparity of the gathering 
testified how widely both the colleges and the school of experi 
ence had failed. We met in the heart of Chicago (there was also 
a day class on the campus) for three consecutive hours one eve 
ning every week. Two hours were spent in informal but guided 
discussion, one in listening to a lecturer once Bertrand Russell, 
once John Alden Carpenter, always someone of vision in his 
field. The lectures were arranged to follow the outline of the 
entire work. 

We began with a survey of the universe as a scientific fact, 
discussed laws of time, space, motion; saw stars grow old, worlds 
form, geological epochs scar the earth; saw the formation of 
complex organic compounds that acted as if alive, studied theo 
ries of the origin of life, consciousness, intelligence; saw the flow 


of events, called evolution, processes of life and matter never 
turning back; saw waves of primitive men sweep over the world; 
saw the formation of communities, empires with their formulas 
of war and peace and growth; saw religions and institutions 
change to meet new conditions and temperaments; saw early in 
dustrial society, society today, and asked what it would be 
tomorrow. We knotted our brows over perplexing social poli 
cies, and looked at the arts and ends of man. 

That was the universe without, and the first semester. The 
second, we recognized worlds within worlds that in one town, 
one house, may be a man of action, a scientist, and an artist, 
lover, philosopher or priest; and each man lives his own world. 
The explorations of these different worlds or different ap 
proaches and attitudes to the universe filled our second 

It was a courageous and creative piece of adult education. 
And useful I cannot imagine anyone completing it and still 
finding conflicts between religion and science, or still entertaining 
contempt for interests other than his own, or still failing to grasp 
the simple, humane and tolerant principles that underlie democ 
racy and sound personal morality. 

Now comes the book, The New Universe, with the same out 
line, the same point of view. It should confer the same benefits, 
in a lesser degree perhaps, but to a larger audience. The stag 
gering mass of information has been so well masticated and 
organized that the reader can see the universe unroll like a vast 
panorama. The studies in social policies are compact sum 
maries of liberal opinion so compact perhaps, that the reader 
may be tricked into reading more rapidly than he can assimilate. 

The book is brilliant in detail. Its sweep and structure may 
evade unless one reviews the outlines and summaries provided 
for the purpose. To educators these may suggest what can 
be done, given an instructor sufficiently scholarly and suffi 
ciently well adjusted. 




Hazen. Boston and New York: Houghton Mifflin Company. 

It appears that in conversation one day with one of the Harvard 
professors of History, Mr. Thayer reverted to his pet thesis that 
Biography is an art he declares he has hammered away for 
thirty years to convince the public on that point and that this 
pundit replied, "Why, I never saw anything in biography except 
material for history!" . . . Well, Michel Angelo's dome of St. 
Peter's is symmetrically perfect, if that is all you see in it! But 
the author of The Life and Times of Cavour; The Life and Letters 
of John Hay, and in lesser way in his Theodore Roosevelt and 
George Washington, practiced an art, in form and content, and 
escaped from the formulae which produce the bulk of our Ph.D. 
theses. In one of his letters he complains of "fatuous academic 
pettifogging", when they "slice history or literature into a dozen 
or twenty courses each, but no College, so far as I know, ever had 
a course on Biography whether as an indispensable element of 
history or as a form of literature". And to this skilled practi 
tioner of the art of biography it seemed fatuous indeed. 

These letters of Mr. Thayer's as assembled by Mr. Hazen, 
himself a Professor of History and a happy interpreter of Mr. 
Thayer's method, reveal the mind of a scholar and poet, and one 
who brought to his work a singularly fine blend of these gifts. 
His long years of editorial work in connection with The Harvard 
Graduates' Magazine indicate accomplishment in another direc 
tion. He held the editorship some twenty -three years, and per 
haps it was this that led to his writing to Barrett Wendell: "In 
heaven, how pleasant an editor's life must be! No obituaries, no 
political ties, no book reviews, no advertisements. Every angel 
will know by intuition what books to read. Athletics won't exist. 
On the whole perhaps there won't be any need of editors in 
heaven and that may be why so few of them here qualify them 
selves to go there." 

When it is recalled that through so much of the latter years of 
his life he worked under the cruel handicap of serious eye-trouble 
he was threatened with blindness accomplishment such as 
his was really prodigious. 


Italy was an endless delight to him, and every visit in that 
country only increased his attachment to it. And Italy recognized 
this, as well as the contributions he had made in his Cavour, The 
Dawn of Italian Independence, Italica, a volume of essays and A 
Short History of Venice, when in 1919 she elected him to member 
ship in the Accademia del Lincei, a scholarly distinction of the 
highest order rarely conferred upon foreigners. 

In the selection of letters Professor Hazen has been successful 
in keeping those which reveal the many sides of this quiet scholar, 
who was none the less a crusader when need be, the letters of the 
War period attest that, and whose wit and charm run along 
through the pages of the volume irresistibly. In fact, it is doubt 
ful if a more successful way could be found to practice the art of 
biography than in this wise. Such certainly was Lord Morley's 
view, as we learn in his Early Letters, just published, when 
Mr. Hirst says he had heard Lord Morley contend that the 
most satisfactory form of biography is a well-edited correspond 
ence. And yet we read that Mr. Thayer regrets that Lord Morley 
did not carry out his intention of writing a biography of Cavour 
since "I don't refer to the evident difference in the power of 
the two authors, ... it would have illustrated two very 
different methods in writing biography"! But Professor Hazen 
has made a biography of well-edited correspondence. 

It was a scholar's life simply lived, valiant when illness over 
took him, made beautiful with the soul of a poet, and in a perfect 
companionship in his home, so what wonder he found that "the 
solution of life itself is to live it". 

The volume is a distinct contribution to American letters, as 
well as marking methods in the study of modern history. In 
these days of fantastic figures of the sales of the too intimate 
papers of contemporary public men, it is worthy of note that The 
Life and Letters of John Hay made a notable score with the sale 
of twenty-nine thousand sets down to January of last year. 




Asquith, K.G. With Illustrations. Two volumes. Boston: Little, Brown 
and Company. 

At sight of this title one thinks involuntarily of Benton's 
Thirty Years' View, and of Elaine's Twenty Years of Congress: 
and then reflects that here is a book which covers as great a span 
of time as those two added together. Perhaps we may regard 
that circumstance as illustrative of the greater stability of British 
political life than of ours. There have been men whose periods of 
participation in public life have rivalled those of British veterans, 
though they have been comparatively few. And it is interesting 
to recall that Mr. Asquith as we must continue to think of him 
and to call him, despite his Earldom was Prime Minister con 
tinuously for nearly nine years. That is of course a longer period 
of service than that of any President of the United States. 

Mr. Asquith's fifty years are not, however, fifty years of his 
own service in Parliament. It was only forty years ago that he 
entered the Commons; and of the last dozen years of his service 
there he has nothing to say; presumably because very much un 
like Mr. H. G. Wells he does not wish to enter into personalities 
concerning his surviving contemporaries. But he makes up for 
this omission by treating of many more years at the other end of 
the record, before he entered Parliament, and indeed while he was 
still a schoolboy. The result is a conspectus of British public life 
for the last two generations, of great authority and charm of style. 
Those if any who look to it for some sensational revelations, or 
even for important new light upon British political transactions, 
will be disappointed. That is no doubt partly because there was 
nothing of the sort that the author could disclose, or that his keen 
sense of propriety would permit him to disclose. For with all his 
strong and sometimes bitter feelings toward men and affairs, 
Mr. Asquith has ever been a stickler for the old-fashioned con 
ventionalities; perhaps by way of counterfoil to the vivacious 
indiscretions of Lady Oxford and Asquith. Once in a while, 
indeed, he does indulge in a characterization which might well 
have been spared; but there are very many wholly admirable 
word-pictures of his famous Victorian colleagues. 


These personalities are one of the three outstanding features 
for which the volumes will be most prized. Another is the 
singularly fascinating and instructive chapter on the origin and 
purport of a number of political catchwords in British politics, 
not a few of which have been adopted into our American vocabu 
lary and indeed are often regarded as native to our soil. Disraeli 
was the supreme phrase-maker, and is credited with "bloated arma 
ments", "plundering and blundering", "peace with honor" 
(which he took from Shakespeare), and "men of light and 
leading" (which Burke had used more than eighty years before). 
Gladstone, also a phrase-monger, got "bag and baggage" from 
Shakespeare, and the "unspeakable Turk" from Carlyle. 

The third feature is the studied panegyric which Mr. Asquith 
pronounces upon the Liberal Party, and which, at this time, has 
an unmistakably elegaic flavor. It was an interesting coincidence 
that these volumes appeared simultaneously with Lord Oxford 
and Asquith's retirement presumably final from the leader 
ship of the Liberal party, and also that they followed hard upon 
the wrecking of that party in a cataclysm scarcely precedented 
in British political history. When Mr. Asquith entered Parlia 
ment, as a follower of Gladstone, the party was at the very 
zenith of a career of unsurpassed splendor and achievement. 
When he retired from the leadership of it, which he had held 
longer than most of his predecessors, it had fallen to the lowest 
estate that either of the two great parties had known for a cen 
tury. It would doubtless be a gross injustice to charge him with 
the blame for that appalling collapse. But the circumstance 
helps to explain why he preferred to close his narrative with 
1914. Perhaps there is some cryptic connection between this, 
however, and his choice of a topic for the last page of his memoirs. 
For he there refers to his own repeated use in Parliament of the 
phrase "Wait and see!" and then traces it to Mr. Chamberlain, 
to Lord John Russell, and finally to Napoleon at Elba "My 
day is done but wait and see!" Note that it was at Elba, not 
at St. Helena; wherefore is the Earl of Oxford and Asquith to 
return to the leadership for a Hundred Days? 




MORE AGO. The Editors.] 

at the conclusion of the twentieth volume, in April, 1825, wrote thus 
of the scope and purposes of this periodical: 

The purpose and character of this work are too well known to require a par 
ticular description. It will be seen that it embraces a vast compass of knowl 
edge on almost every subject of general interest, particularly relating to the 
history, government, politics, education, literature and literary institutions, 
science, the arts, internal improvements, national progress and character, leg 
islation, law, jurisprudence, statistics and political economy, agriculture, man 
ufactures, commerce, and the future prospects and prosperity of this country. 
Many of the articles on these subjects have been written by our first statesmen, 
and literary men in different parts of the United States, and may be presumed 
to convey as sound and comprehensive views as would be likely to be obtained 
from any quarter. 

It is the leading aim of the conductors of THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW to 
give it as much of a national, American character as possible, and to this end 
contributions are solicited and received from eminent persons in almost every 
part of the Union. It has a double purpose; first, that of containing criticisms on 
works of taste, literature, and what may be called the more elegant branches of 
learning; and, secondly, that of being a repository of elaborate or desultory dis 
cussions on topics of general politics, legislation, science, our international re 
lations, social institutions, and, in short, whatever comes down to the immedi 
ate interests of the community. Several of the constant contributors are men 
of letters, who have travelled and studied in foreign parts, and become familiar 
with the language and literature of the old countries; others are devoted to 
literary and scientific pursuits as a profession; while others are conspicuous 
among the legislators of the country, at the bar, or in our highest courts of jus 
tice. Such is the character of the gentlemen who are enlisted as contributors 
to THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW, and with the aid of talents and attainments 
like these, it is hoped the work will continue to merit the approbation of the 
public, and to be worthy of that patronage which it has already enjoyed in an 
uncommon degree. 


GEORGE BANCROFT, reviewing the Poems of Mrs. Hemans, in 
THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW of April, 1827, excoriated certain 
tendencies in the literature of that day not in Mrs. Hemans 9 s in 
terms not entirely inappropriate a century later: 

There can be no more hideous fault in a literary work than profligacy. Levity 
is next in order. The disposition to trifle with topics of the highest moment, 
to apply the levelling principle to the emotions of the human mind, to hold up 
to ridicule the exalted thoughts and kindling aspirations of which human na 
ture is capable, can at best charm those only who have failed to enter the true 
avenues to happiness. Such works may be popular, because the character of 
the public mind may for a season be corrupt. A literature, consisting of such 
works, is the greatest evil with which a nation can be cursed. National poverty 
is nothing in comparison, for poverty is remedied by prudent enterprise; but 
such works poison the life-blood of the people, the moral vigor, which alone can 
strive for liberty and honor. The apologists for this class of compositions, in 
which Voltaire and La Fontaine are the greatest masters, defend it on the 
ground that it is well adapted to give pleasure to minds which have been ac 
customed to it, and that foreigners need only a different moral education to be 
able to enjoy it. Now without wasting a word on the enormity of defending 
what is intrinsically sensual, we reply merely on the score of effect. He who 
adapts his inventions to a particular state of society, can please no further; he 
depends on circumstances for his popularity; he does not appeal to man, but to 
accidental habits, a fleeting state of the public mind; he is the poet, not of na 
ture, but of a transient fashion. The attraction which comes from the strange 
ness or novelty or the manner is of very little value. On the most brilliant 
night a meteor would be followed by all eyes for a while : and why? Because it 
is as evanescent as bright; we must gaze at once, or it will be too late. Yet the 
mind soon returns to the contemplation of the eternal stars which light up the 
heavens with enduring lustre. Any popularity obtained by gratifying a per 
verse taste, is essentially transitory; while all that is benevolent and social, all 
that favors truth and goodness, is of universal and perpetual interest. 

WILLIAM POWELL MASON, an eminent Jurist, contributed to 
THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW of January, 1827, an extended 
critique of " The Merry Tales of the Three Wise Men of Gotham," 
in which he thus satirized the rise of standardization in industry: 

The invention of the woman machine, as can be incontestibly proved, first 
came about in this manner. As soon as the people of this country had fairly 
freed themselves from the government of Great Britain, and discharged them 
selves of their ancestors, all classes of persons here began to thrive and multiply 
exceedingly, but more especially females, insomuch that our political econo 
mists suggested a fear that, in process of time, the whole country would get to 


be overrun with women, unless some check was put to them. Now our me 
chanical geniuses, casting their eyes around in search of cheap materials to work 
with, which is a great object with them, and seeing large stores of girls in all 
directions apparently useless, caught the idea, that it would answer an excellent 
purpose to work them into machinery, and so planned the woman machine, 
the mode of constructing which is after this fashion. You take from one 
hundred and fifty to two hundred youths, varying the number according to the 
intended size of your machine; they should be rather of a tender age, from ten 
to fifteen years is preferable, and mostly females, say not less than nine-tenths. 
After well sorting these, you put them into a large four story building strongly 
constructed of brick or stone, near a considerable head of water; on the several 
floors of this building are to be placed various pieces of machinery, called mules, 
spinning jennies, double speeders, etc. Then having distributed the girls 
about the rooms according to your taste and judgment, you attach one or more 
of them, as circumstances may require, to each piece of machinery, and the 
whole machine is ready for use. A machine thus prepared and put together is 
called a manufactory. . . . 

The principal advantages of this machine, as enumerated by the inventors, 
appear to be these; that a great part of the machinery, as before mentioned, 
being made out of a very cheap material, goods can be manufactured by them 
at a much lower rate than in the old way, and so our English and other com 
petitors derive from our market. That by this mode of educating females, 
four of the principal defects in their characters are eradicated, or greatly les 
sened, which has never before been known to be effected by any other course of 
education; namely, first, a frequent restlessness and fondness for running about; 
secondly, a too free use of speech ; thirdly, a constant desire for meddling in other 
persons' concerns to the neglect of their own; and fourthly, a manifest indis 
position to the wholesome control and authority of parents, husbands, and 
guardians; for the curing of which defects, some dozen years' steady exercise 
in one of these machines is said to be a most valuable and certain specific, so that 
it is confidently expected that, by a very general establishment of them, the world 
will shortly become a very quiet and peaceable place, that all riotous, routous, 
and noisy assemblages will cease, and that, excepting at Congress and in the 
state legislatures, excessive talking will only be persisted in when it is to some 

REVIEW, in the issue for July, 1821, wrote thus of relations between 
England and America: 

We do not wish to say that we look upon the English nation as in a state of 
decline. There are certainly considerable evils in the state of the country. A 
high authority pronounces the poor rates an evil, which can neither be remedied 
nor borne, and another authority on the other side, equally high, says the cor- 


ruption of Parliament has reached a ruinous point; while the national debt ex 
ceeds, by nearly ten times, the amount which Hume declared must produce a 
bankruptcy. With all this, we believe, we certainly hope, that England will 
long survive, and exert her present preponderance in the world. Not certainly 
that we think her influence always brought into action as it ought to be, but 
because we see not the spot on the map of Europe to which it could be safely 
transferred; and because we look upon ourselves to be quite too immature to 
engage with prudence in European politics. England, moreover, has a tower 
of strength, a great depository of moral and physical power, in her numerous 
orderly, intelligent, middling class, which the corruptions, that exist in the two 
extremes of society, have as yet scarcely touched. And ages we trust will pass 
by, before the happy abodes of this virtuous community will feel the over 
whelming power of political and moral degeneracy and corruption. We wish 
this for the sake of humanity, order, and peace abroad, of which the English 
character is certainly the great assurance. 

JAMES TRECOTHIC AUSTIN, Attorney -General of Massachusetts, 
in THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW for October, 1821, discussed 
methods of dealing with confirmed criminals in terms quite pertinent 
to the present day: 

A recent regulation in the laws of Massachusetts, which it would probably be 
good policy for the other States to adopt, will go very far to do away one of the 
evils attributed to State prisons; that those who were not reformed were made 
worse by them. We shall not in future hear of any convict being sentenced a 
fourth time. Out of the whole number, one thousand four hundred and seventy- 
one, that have been sent to the State prison in Charlestown, one hundred 
and thirty-three were for a second tune, seventeen a third time, and eight a 
fourth time. A law was passed two years since, providing that when any crimi 
nal sent to the prison was found to have been there before, the Attorney- 
General should proceed against him by information, and he should be sentenced 
for a further term not exceeding seven years, because of his second conviction; 
and if a criminal should come there for the third time, he should be proceeded 
against in a similar manner, and should be sentenced to confinement for life. 
Seven convicts are now there for life under this new law. In this way, all those 
who are incurable will be taken from preying on the public, and having previ 
ously learned some trade in the prison, can be advantageously employed. 

Tros Tyriusque mihi nullo discrimine agetur 




The Editor of THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW takes pleasure 
in announcing that with the present impression the Quarterly 
publication of this periodical ceases, and that with the next, to be 
issued in September, it will resume the Monthly form. 

During its existence of more than a hundred and twelve years the 
REVIEW has been published for nearly equal periods as a Quar 
terly and as a Monthly, with a shorter interval as a Bi-Monthly. 
In each of these forms it has been acceptable to its readers. But 
on the whole the Monthly form has met with most favor, because 
while it could embody all the good qualities possible to the less 
frequent issues, it could display others which were not practicable 
to them; and these are precisely the qualities, of timeliness and of 
responsive touch with current affairs, which are today most de 
sired by the reading public. 

Half a century ago, on the occasion of another radical change 
in the affairs of the REVIEW, that of its place of publication, 
from Boston to New York, the then Editor made a statement, 
than which nothing could be more appropriate for utterance at 
this time, or could more adequately express the purpose of the 
present Editor. He said: 

"THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW will continue to be conducted 
in the same enterprising and liberal spirit with which the new 
management has sought to impress it. From its foundation 
. . . the REVIEW has been the organ of the most cultivated and 

Copyright, 1927, by North American Review Corporation. All rights reserved. 
VOL. ccxxiv. NO. 835 12 


scholarly minds of the country, and no efforts will be spared to 
maintain this position in the future. The objection has been 
made, and not without reason, that its pages were addressed to a 
limited class, and failed to deal with topics of immediate interest 
to the public at large. That objection it has been sought to re 
move during the past year. The Editor has endeavored, without 
in the least abandoning the high standard of excellence set up by 
his distinguished predecessors, to combine perfection of form and 
finish with a keener appreciation of the requirements of the age, 
and to present not merely discussions upon which no practical re 
sults depend, but such as shall aid men to form opinions for the 
guidance of their conduct as citizens and as members of society. 
Following the counsel of one of our best-loved American poets, 
his desire is to act for the living present rather than for the dead 
past, and to make the REVIEW a vehicle for the intellectual 
forces which are at this moment working in men's minds. 

"The subjects with which the REVIEW will deal will be limited 
by no programme laid down in advance; whatever topics are at 
the time prominent in the public mind will be taken up and 
treated with thoroughness and vigor. In Politics, in Finance, in 
Philosophy, Literature, Religion, and all other subjects, the 
REVIEW will not only welcome, but will take active steps to pro 
cure, the contributions of representative men of all opinions and 
from every quarter, the only criterion of acceptance or rejection 
being the importance of the subject and the ability of the writer." 

That declaration was made during the period when THE 
NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW was a Bi-Monthly publication; and 
the Editor presently found that its best fulfilment would be se 
cured through a change to Monthly issue. Its repetition at this 
time is therefore most appropriately coupled with the coming re 
sumption of the Monthly form. Nor is that the only change 
which the next number will exhibit; but in addition to the edi 
torial review of world affairs already presented there will be ex 
pertly directed departments dealing with financial topics, current 
literature, the homely philosophy of life, and many other matters 
of timely and vital interest, discussed with equal authority and 
vivacity an authority that is weighty without being heavy, and 
a vivacity that is engaging without being trivial. 


"THIRD TERM" talk abounds. A few Republicans who for 
various reasons are opposed to the renomination of Mr. Coolidge 
for the Presidency, present that as their ostensible objection to 
him. Many Democrats are preparing, in the expected event of 
his renomination, to urge it as their chief ground for opposing his 
reelection. That in either case the issue will have important, not 
to say decisive, weight with the general public, is not reasonably 
to be believed. For it is more and more dawning upon the mind 
of the Nation that any rational objection to a third term for a 
President cannot apply to the proposed reelection of Mr. Coolidge 
next year, any more than it could have applied to the candidacy of 
Colonel Roosevelt in 1912. That is because Mr. Coolidge is now 
serving not his second but merely his first term as President; any 
opinion to the contrary being founded upon one of the strangest 
delusions and perversions in American Constitutional history, 
namely, that upon the death or other removal of a President the 
Vice-President succeeds him and becomes President of the United 

The fact is that he does no such thing. There is nothing clearer 
in the Constitution than that a man can become President only 
through the votes of the Electoral College or of the House of 
Representatives, and in no other way; and that in case of a va 
cancy in the Presidential office, the powers and duties of the office 
devolve upon the Vice-President, who however remains merely 
Vice-President and Acting-President. There is nothing more 
certain, as the luminous pages of The Federalist attest, than that 
such was the understanding and intention of the makers of the 
Constitution. Nor is there anything more patent in the records 
of Congress of eighty-six years ago than that these facts were 
realized on the occasion when for the first time the Presidential 
office was rendered vacant by death. The ablest Constitutional 


authorities in both Houses sustained that view of the case; and 
they were overruled, and the Vice-President was falsely declared 
to be President, only through one of the most arrogant partisan 
manoeuvres ever witnessed within the walls of the Capitol; in 
which the leaders of a temporary majority ignored all argument 
and took the ground 

Theirs not to make reply, 

Theirs not to reason why, 

but merely to vote and by virtue of numerical power to establish 
the sordid point which they desired. The reasons why they took 
and persisted in that course, and also why a little later their oppo 
nents acquiesced in it, are more notorious than creditable. But 
the vicious precedent then set, and the five subsequent repetitions 
of it, cannot alter the Constitutional facts. 

The questions of President Coolidge's renomination, and of his 
reelection if renominated, are of course open; though we have 
little doubt as to the sentiment of the great majority of American 
citizens concerning them. But attempts to determine them in 
the negative must logically be based upon some other ground than 
that of the incorrectly -called "third term". 


The British Ambassador at Washington and the American Am 
bassador at the Court of St. James's have both deemed it desir 
able, if not necessary, to decry any formal offensive and defensive 
alliance between the great Anglo-Saxon Powers as calculated to 
cause a hostile combination of other Powers, and thus endanger 
rather than assure the tranquillity of the world. In that they 
were doubtless quite right, but we must regret not the making of 
those statements but the apparent necessity of it; which was due, 
we must suspect, to the suggestions of crass marplotry. In the 
old days before the Emancipation Proclamation, when a pro- 
slavery advocate found himself hopelessly worsted in argument, 
his invariable recourse was to demand, "Well, do you want your 
daughter to marry a nigger?" the inference being that a universal 
epidemic of such unions would be the inevitable sequel of abolition 
of slavery.'J: In some such fashion interested meddlers and mis- 


chief makers frequently declare that anything like friendship be 
tween America and Great Britian would necessarily mean a 
military alliance between them for aggression upon the rest of the 
world; and it was presumably to repudiate such insinuations and 
to deny such intentions that Sir Esme Howard and Mr. Houghton 
made their earnest disclaimers. It may be added that there have 
now been a hundred and twelve years of unbroken peace between 
these two nations without any offensive or defensive alliance; and 
that there was no such alliance nor need of one when Tatnall pro 
claimed that "Blood is thicker than water!" when Sir Lambton 
Lorraine trained the guns of his ship upon a Spanish fortress in 
defense of the lives of American citizens, or when Admiral Chi- 
chester laid his ships alongside Dewey's in Manila Bay. 


We cannot profess any great degree of surprise, though we do 
feel a genuine regret, at the unwillingness of France and Italy to 
participate in the Geneva Conference for Limitation of Naval 
Armament. It is not, however, to be regarded as in any sense the 
manifestation of an unfriendly or even an unsympathetic disposi 
tion, and certainly not as a menace to the peace of the world. 
Whatever shrewd surmises there may be concerning the motives 
for this abstention, we must respect France's reaffirmation of 
loyalty to the League of Nations, to which she is as well entitled 
to be attached as we are to the Monroe Doctrine. And it is to be 
observed that the League is not yet ready to undertake the work 
of limitation of armaments, to which it is substantially committed 
in its Covenant. Indeed it has recently spent several weeks in 
deciding not yet to begin to prepare to follow the example which 
America took the initiative in setting five years ago, an example 
not only of limitation but also of enormous reduction of arma 
ment. Surely, then, we must ungrudgingly concede France's 
right to await that process of deliberation; especially since her 
non-participation in this Conference does not in the slightest 
impair her undertakings at the former one. 

Meantime it is of suggestive interest to observe that France is 
not idly awaiting the limitatory action of the League, but with 


almost feverish zeal is rushing at all her shipyards construction 
of those classes of naval vessels upon which unfortunately no limit 
was placed in the Washington Five Power Treaty. Nor has the 
world been informed of any considerable suspension of similar 
work by the Italian Admiralty. Perhaps this is merely a practi 
cal application of the philosophy of the boy who, being asked by 
his catechist what was the essential prerequisite to repentance, 
replied, To commit sin. So the best preparation for reduction 
and limitation of armaments may be, To create more armaments. 
But however these things may be, the cordial participation in the 
Geneva Conference by Great Britain and Japan abundantly vin 
dicates President Coolidge's course in convoking it, and affords 
promise of profitable results. Perhaps what is of most practical 
interest to us is the fact that any proportional equalization of 
naval armaments among the three powers represented at Geneva, 
in the classes of vessels not already limited, must mean either 
great increase of construction by America or great reduction of 
strength by both Great Britain and Japan. 


The dispute between the Dominion of Canada and Newfound 
land over the title to Labrador has been decided by the British 
Government in favor of "England's Oldest Colony". This is 
naturally disappointing to Canada, though it will not lessen loy 
alty to the Mother Country, nor perceptibly cloud the brilliance 
and joy of the jubilee of threescore years of Dominion life which 
will be celebrated on July 1. The expansion of the Dominion 
westward and northward has been so gigantic that the relinquish- 
ment of what has somewhat unjustly been called the Land of Cain 
can easily be afforded. " We must respect the future ! " exclaimed 
the first great explorer and founder of Canada ; but even the far- 
reaching vision of Cartier fell short of comprehending a domain 
extending unbroken from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and from the 
St. Lawrence and Great Lakes to the No Man's Land that en 
circles the Arctic Pole. On the other hand, historical and logical 
considerations seem strongly to support the claim of Newfound 
land to the Labrador coast and to a goodly slice of the inner land. 


For those are the waters in which Sebastian Cabot sailed, and the 
shores on which he planted St. George's Cross. In the same 
voyage he discovered, explored and laid English claim to both the 
island and the main land. In that event, therefore, Newfound 
land and Labrador were logically conjoined under the same sov 
ereignty. Perhaps we might recall, too, that while it was the 
fishermen of Normandy who canonized the cod as "sacred", it 
was Cabot who first made known to the world the abundance of 
that fish in those waters and thus attracted the fishing fleets of 
Europe to the American shores. It will be a romantic epilogue to 
his epochal adventures to have all the shores upon which he 
planted his flag confirmed beneath one Government. 


Mr. Stanley Baldwin's proposal to make the electoral franchise 
for women in England coextensive in age limits and other re 
spects with that for men is, in somewhat flippant epigram, de^ 
scribed as "votes for flappers"; but it certainly seems to be based 
upon sound principles of logic and of justice. We reject with 
chivalric contempt the suggestion that many women have been 
restrained from voting because of unwillingness to confess them 
selves to be of the age hitherto required. But we would point 
out that by the universal testimony of physiologists, psychol 
ogists, sociologists and who not else, and by recognition of law 
makers, girls are held to reach years of discretion and to attain 
maturity at an earlier age than boys; wherefore they are surely as 
well qualified to vote at twenty-one as are their brothers. Why 
not, then, "votes for flappers" as well as votes for "Willie boys" 
or "bounders", or whatever other opprobrious epithet may be 
applied to the adolescent male? 


The lamented death of Walter Leaf calls attention to an exam 
ple, unhappily as rare as it is distinguished, of great scholarship 
conjoined with both the genius and the toil of practical business 
life. There come to mind, of course, the cases of Bagehot and 


Grote and Rogers, who were practical bankers as well as men of 
letters; and also of Stedman in our own country. Yet not one of 
these was quite as noteworthy as Leaf's. To write poetry, or his 
tory, or economic or constitutional treatises, does not seem so 
incompatible with technical finance, as do profound researches 
into Homeric archaeology and studies of Greek grammar and 
rhetoric. We should hesitate to predict whether Walter Leaf will 
be better remembered by the next generation as a great financier 
or a great Greek scholar; though we have no hesitation in pro 
nouncing him worthy of both distinctions. 


Some of our British and other European contemporaries are 
discussing the question, as framed by themselves, Can American 
prosperity continue? The tones vary; some being solicitous and 
anxious, some skeptical, some envious, and some suggestive of a 
negative reply. Perhaps it would be well if the same question 
were asked here; not of course in anything resembling alarm or 
panic, but with that thoughtful and informed circumspection 
which is one of the essentials of security. For the last five years 
we have had such prosperity as few Nations anywhere or at any 
time have ever enjoyed, and have amassed an apparent wealth 
quite unprecedented in the history of the world. We have, 
however, no Divine guarantee of the perpetuity of these condi 
tions; but must remember that they depend upon the operation 
of economic principles which are no respecters of peoples and 
which are as remorseless as Fate itself. 

In the status of other Nations, more or less closely related with 
our own, there are, it must be confessed, unpleasant indications. 
In Japan there has been a colossal failure in the silk trade, fol 
lowed by the closing of the Rice Exchange, the suspension of five 
leading banks, and the proclamation of a moratorium. One need 
not be a pessimist to perceive a certain ominous analogy between 
this and the Japanese crisis of 1920 with its far-extending in 
fluence. That the troubles in China will have an unfavorable 
effect upon the affairs not only of Japan but also of several 
other countries, seems obvious. Turning from the Far East to 


Europe, the outlook is scarcely less disquieting. The traditional 
"war cloud in the Balkans", for more than half a century a fre 
quent portent of Continent-wide disturbance, is again much 
larger than a man's hand, and of sable hue; with half a dozen 
Nations within at least the fringes of its shadow. In France the 
buoyant prosperity that has been thriving in a time of reckless 
inflation and multitudinous tourist patronage, has been giving 
place to grave depression and unemployment under the stress 
of M. Poincare's modest attempts at rehabilitation of the franc. 
Even in Great Britain, the financial "Weary Titan" of the world, 
it is suspected that the recent reduction in the bank rate was due 
to the Government's desire to borrow funds with which to meet 
the debt charges in the Churchill Budget. 

Amid these troubles and rumors of troubles, America sits in at 
least assumed serenity, surrounded with cheap money and backed 
with more than half of the world's entire visible supply of mone 
tary gold. Without pessimism or ominous foreboding it may well 
be asked whether that is an entirely secure position, in view of 
current conditions and tendencies which must be known to every 
informed business man and financier. The present status is 
unpleasantly suggestive of unstable equilibrium. So long as the 
balance is maintained, all seems secure. But any shock sufficient 
to tip the centre of gravity the least bit beyond the base would 
upset the entire fabric. We are not anticipating such a shock, 
or such a result. Rather is it in the hope of averting it that we 
call attention to these indisputable conditions and symptoms, and 
urge the timely need of transforming an unstable into a stable 
equilibrium. Our years of unprecedented prosperity have made 
America seem a veritable economic Paradise. It rests with us, in 
discretion, in vigilance, and in the resumption and enforcement of 
sound business methods, to prevent it from becoming a Paradise 
of fools. 


Elsewhere in this impression we have recalled the significant 
change which was effected in THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW 
just fifty years ago. It is interesting to recall that at pre- 


cisely that same time there was founded in England another 
Review on similar lines, which has accordingly now reached its 
semi-centenary. This was and is The Nineteenth Century, which 
was fittingly named as an exponent of the thought and interests 
of that era; though to avoid anachronism it has had to make an 
addition to its name, seeing that it has now been published in the 
twentieth century longer than it was in the nineteenth. We re 
member that it signalized its first number with contributions from 
Alfred Tennyson, Matthew Arnold and William E. Gladstone, 
and are glad to testify that that auspicious promise of its birth 
has been abundantly fulfilled in the succession of contributors 
which it has maintained all the way up to its present well-seasoned 
maturity. In an era marked with so many ephemeral and fugi 
tive publications, and so many which merit no longer persistence, 
it is gratifying to see one of sterling worth maintain enduring 


M. Loucheur, the eminent French economist, has been urging 
an industrial alliance of France, Germany and other European 
countries against the United States, and is reported to have 
aroused much enthusiasm for such a policy. Indeed, it is in 
timated that strong influences will be exerted upon the League of 
Nations, to induce it to seek fulfilment of that one of President 
Wilson's famous Fourteen Points which called for free trade in all 
natural products and resources. The steel and iron cartel es 
tablished between France and Germany last year seems to en 
courage him in hoping for a European Zollverein, antagonistic to 
America ; though we should be inclined to regard as a confession of 
failure his admission that the adherence of Great Britain to such a 
scheme would be absolutely necessary to its success. That is to 
say, the thing is possible only through the impossible. 

Perhaps it might be well for M. Loucheur and his colleagues in 
this campaign with whom we cannot believe that the majority 
of Frenchmen agree to consider the effects of a counter combina 
tion of American tourists against France and other European 
countries. Let us suppose that hundreds of thousands of Ameri- 


cans should grow weary of the invidious discriminations that are 
practiced upon them beyond the Atlantic, nowhere, perhaps, 
more than in France, and should decide to "see America first". 
That would scarcely, we imagine, increase the consumption of 
European products, or increase the European stock of gold, or 
even raise its purchasing power to the n-th degree; those being the 
ends at which M. Loucheur aims with his anti-American alliance. 
For a system of commercial reciprocity and free trade among all 
the countries of Europe, such as there is among the United States, 
there is much to be said; though it is not well to ignore the radical 
difference between such a system among independent States and 
one between States federated under a single sovereignty. Such a 
system would not necessarily be hostile to or in any way injurious 
to America. But any system made purposely offensive to this 
country might prove far more detrimental to its makers and 
practitioners than to its intended victim. 


One of the most useful functions of anniversary celebrations is 
to afford opportunity for correcting mistakes and for diffusing 
correct information concerning the events which they commem 
orate; for which achievement there is special need in connection 
with the sesquicentenary of the Stars and Stripes. There are 
indeed few events in our history concerning which there have been 
more persistent or more inexcusable errors than that of June 14, 
1777. The strange notion that by " a new constellation " the flag 
resolution of Congress meant that the constellation of Lyra 
should be copied in the canton of the flag has not yet been alto 
gether abandoned. The quite impossible as well as the indubit 
able details of the Betsey Ross story are still repeated. And, 
most stupid and most discreditable of all, Martin Farquhar 
Tupper's inept legend of the derivation of the flag from Washing 
ton's coat of arms is almost daily exploited as true. Many in 
teresting circumstances of the origin of the flag are, unfortunately, 
lost to us, probably forever. But for the sure correction of these 
most glaring errors, the undisputed written record, observed and 


interpreted with ordinary common sense, is quite sufficient and 

Nor is there less need of reminder and information of forgotten 
or unlearned facts than of correction of errors. It would be inter 
esting to know how large a percentage of intelligent American 
citizens remember that at Washington's inauguration as our first 
President, flags bearing only eleven stars were displayed, and can 
tell the reason for that form of the constellation; how many real 
ize that during nearly a quarter of a century of its most thrilling 
and heroic history the flag bore fifteen instead of thirteen stripes 
such being the design, indeed, of the "Star Spangled Banner" 
which inspired Key to write our favorite National anthem; and 
how many are familiar with the achievement of the gallant sea- 
fighter who finally put the flag into its present form, when by his 
almost incredible valor at Fayal in the Azores he enabled "Old 
Hickory" Jackson to win the Battle of New Orleans, thousands 
of miles away. Truly, the sesquicentenary of the Stars and 
Stripes is an anniversary worthy of very much more than a per 
functory observance. 


It is, we believe, true that women and former soldiers are of all 
people most averse to war. That is because of the agonizing 
bereavement which the losses in battle bring directly home to 
wives and mothers and sisters, and because of the practical expe 
rience of war and its horrors that the veterans have had. Yet 
their aversion to war bears no relation whatever to that Pacifism 
which would forbid rational preparedness or would hold the worst 
possible conditions of peace to be preferable to war for any cause. 
We have recently observed with much interest and gratification 
the outspoken and emphatic advocacy of military training in 
schools and colleges and at training camps which have been made 
by various chapters and conventions of the Society of Daughters 
of the American Revolution, who are unsurpassedly entitled to 
speak for the best womanhood of America, and also by members 
and posts of the American Legion, with their unrivalled expe 
rience of the real meaning of war. We know of nobody in all the 


land whose sentiments on this subject are more entitled to the 
highest respect than theirs; and from their vigorous expressions 
we are emboldened to believe that there is little chance of the 
adoption of "I Didn't Raise My Boy to Be a Soldier" as the 
American National Anthem. 


"Justice crucified on the cross of unethical and depraved jour 
nalism" was the recent comment of the Judge of a Federal Court 
upon an incident which caused mistrial of an important suit. It 
was a strong, even a harsh, expression, but we must hold it to have 
been amply justified. For these were the circumstances: A suit 
involving a claim for a million dollars had been brought; much 
time had been devoted to it by the court, the calendar of which 
was crowded with other cases awaiting adjudication; jurors and 
witnesses had been put to great inconvenience and sacrifice in the 
performance of their duty; and very large expenses had been in 
curred by the Government and by the parties to the suit. Then 
a newspaper, in quest of a sensational "beat", tampered with a 
juror, from whom it obtained and published an interview. Of 
course, a mistrial had to be declared by the Judge, and all that had 
been done went for nothing. We should say that after uttering 
the scathing words which we have quoted, he might have added, 
with Clive, that he stood astonished at his own moderation. 

Nor was that case solitary. There was a murder trial, in which 
a man and his mistress were arraigned for their confessed murder, 
in unspeakably revolting circumstances, of the latter's husband. 
Forthwith the papers undertook to "stage" a great sensation. 
One employed as its chief reporter of the trial a clergyman who 
had made himself conspicuous throughout the country as the 
protagonist of Fundamentalism; another engaged the author of 
one of the best selling philosophical books of the year; a third com 
missioned a popular historian whose specialty was the "debunk 
ing" of "bunk"; and others added to the goodly company such 
peers of these as the roster of notoriety could afford. And then, 
to cap the climax, it was cynically proclaimed that this was being 


done, at least by some, for the express purpose of influencing 
public opinion concerning the case. We are not sure that there 
is a more discreditable chapter in the whole history of American 
jurisprudence; and we are quite sure that there is no reason for 
wondering at the lack of respect that is so widely shown for law 
and for the tribunals which have now come most significantly to 
be called courts of law rather than of justice. 

It is not for us to apportion blame for this state of affairs. 
Probably it must be divided among several objects; perhaps 
varying in different cases. But we have no hesitation in saying 
that unless a radical abatement of these abuses is effected, the 
jurisprudence of the United States will become a byword and a 
hissing. But as we do not expect the latter to occur, we look to 
see one of two things in its place. Either the newspaper press, 
through the influence of the really judicious, thoughtful and law- 
respecting majority, will voluntarily mend its ways and suppress 
the "unethical and depraved" minority, or there will be placed 
upon the reporting of trials some such legal restrictions as those 
which have been adopted in England. Neither the "crucifying " 
nor the "jazzing" of justice can be permitted permanently to 


The bestowal of a medal upon Miss Edith Wynne Matthison 
(otherwise Mrs. Charles Rann Kennedy) for the excellence of her 
enunciation of English speech was a noteworthy incident from 
more than one point of view. It was no light thing, in considera 
tion of the too common flouts and fleers at the alleged slurring and 
mumbling of words by our English cousins, to have one born and 
bred an Englishwoman acclaimed by foremost American author 
ities for surpassing purity of intonation even according to 
American standards. It was even more important to have such 
eminent and public recognition given to such an attainment as hers, 
with its inevitable implication that our common American pro 
nunciations leave much to be desired. When, a generation ago, 
Senhor Pedro Carolino published his funny little volume on 
English as She is Spoke, everybody laughed at his ingenuous errors, 


and then went right on making even worse ones of their own. By 
this time, grammar has become so neglected if not entirely aban 
doned a study in the schools, and dictionary-makers in their craze 
for size have accepted and given their cachet to so many spuriously- 
coined words, that there is probably little hope of restoration of 
the written and printed language to anything like its former 
purity in etymology and syntax. As for the spoken language, 
it has at least equally suffered, from a variety of causes and in a 
variety of ways, but all in the direction of indistinctness and, es 
pecially among people of education and culture, in that most 
ominous direction of " weakening " the vowel sounds. Today the 
full, long sounds of the major vowels, which formerly gave English 
speech a sonorous majesty unequalled in modern times, unless 
by Spanish orotund, have all but vanished, replaced by emascu 
lated and flattened tones and in a multitude of cases by a mere 
indefinite grunt which leaves the hearer in doubt as to which of 
two or three vowels it expresses. And this detestable process 
has even gone so far as to involve the changing of spelling of va 
rious words, so as to conform with the debased pronunciation. 
In such circumstances, it is heartening to have this public and 
authoritative testimony given to the value of pure enunciation. 


The shrewd saying that while figures do not lie, liars do figure, 
seems to be applicable also to another science than mathematics. 
We cannot for a moment agree with the opinion once attributed 
to an eminent captain of industry, that "history is bunk"; but 
we must hold that a deplorable amount of bunk is being turned 
into so-called history; and this, we would unhesitatingly add, is 
being chiefly done by some of those who sound the loud hewgag 
until the welkin rings with their boasts that they are going to 
"debunk" the history of our great men, especially beginning with 
Washington, and following with Lincoln and Grant and the rest of 
them. We are quite ready to concede that poor old Parson 
Weems invented, or repeated from gossip, a lot of nonsense about 
the Father of His Country. Yet we are prepared to maintain 


that with all his folly he related fewer misstatements, made fewer 
sheer inventions, and altogether presented a more truthful picture 
of Washington than some of the " debunkers " of today. Accord 
ing to this school of history, the only "real" things about any 
great man are his occasional lapses from greatness. In such cir 
cumstances it is not to be wondered at that the best biographies 
of two of the greatest men in our history were written by men in 
another country. 


Apparently the implication of the old nursery rhyme must 
be reversed. It is Jack Sprat, multitudinously arrayed, who now 
eats all the fat, and so gorges himself that he may truly be said to 
be "digging his grave with his teeth"; while Madame Sprat eats 
nothing but the leanest of the lean and very little of that, in addi 
tion performing nameless calisthenic mysteries calculated to make 
avoirdupois a merely nominal expression and embonpoint one of 
the "old, unhappy things" of the forgotten past. It might be 
difficult to determine which of the two courses is the more foolish 
and, indeed, reprehensible. Certain it is that ailments more or 
less serious and often fatal, such as are superinduced by over 
eating and injudicious gormandizing, are somewhat ominously on 
the increase among men, while thoughtful physiologists regard 
with much apprehension the mania we can call it nothing less 
for artificial attenuation of the female figure. Toward the for 
mer, arguments and exhortations might be in vain; because of a 
very literal application of the old saying de gustibus non disputan- 
dum est. If men are intent upon reducing, or rather expanding, 
themselves to a fixed diet of sodium bicarbonate, they must per 
haps have their way. What was it that was said about braying 
somebody with a pestle in a mortar? But the logic of the case 
ought to appeal to the feminine mind. If girls are to seek "boy 
ish" figures, and women are to affect "mannish" styles of dress, 
what would be thought if boys strove to cultivate "girlish" 
figures and men affected "womanish" fashions? On the whole, 
we reckon that there was sound sense in the ancient prohibition 
against any such confusion of the sexes. 



Vice-President of the United States 

THE perpetuity of our form of government depends upon the 
general exercise by our people of their right of suffrage. The 
fundamental assumption of our Constitutional Government is 
that the judgment of the people in its ultimate and not transi 
tional form is sound not the judgment of a portion of our quali 
fied voters, but the judgment of all of them represented by the 
position of the majority when all have voted. If impartial 
American voters absent themselves from primary and general 
election polls in such numbers that organized minorities habit 
ually control the results of elections, we have, in effect, lost our 
present form of government. 

It is evident that if the effect of our primary laws in their 
present form is to reduce the number of qualified voters who 
exercise the franchise, they are tending to destroy government by 
the people instead of insuring it as was intended. I do not favor 
the abolishing of primary laws, but their modification, in order, 
among other things, to check the increasing tendency of the 
impartial voter to remain away from the polls at both the primary 
and general elections, and the consequent rapidly increasing 
administration of governmental power by organized minori 

When in a Presidential election we find only about one-half of 
the qualified voters in the United States participating, we are 
forced to the conclusion that something is the matter. It would 
seem that the average man is exercising the franchise more from 
the sense of duty than with the idea of availing himself of one of 
the greatest privileges that mankind has known. Against a 
proposition that he be deprived of the right to vote, we know that 
he would rise in his might and die if necessary. But, assured of 
the right, our national experience indicates that minor considera- 

VOL, ccxxiv NO. 835 13 


tions of personal convenience are at present allowed to affect 
materially his decision in reference to going to the polls. 

One of the objects of our election laws should be to encourage 
impartial voting, and in the determination of their merit we must 
be guided by their results. It would seem that an analysis of 
our municipal and State elections of the last twenty years indi 
cates that the effect of the primary laws in their present form is to 
lessen the powers of the people in government rather than to 
augment them. The object of those who believe in the reform of 
our primary laws is to bring them more nearly in accord with the 
representative principle of the Constitutional Government be 
queathed us by our fathers. It is not to deprive the mass of the 
voters of a party from the control of its policies and candidates, 
but to give them a greater control in order that the issues as 
exemplified both in principles and candidates may hereafter be 
more clearly defined, with a consequent increase in the number of 
impartial citizens who will vote at general elections a result 
which, in my judgment, can be reached only by the reestablish- 
ment of the convention system of party nominations, with the 
maintenance along with it of a primary system, open to all the 
members of a party, under which the delegates to a convention 
will be elected. 

That which distinguishes the American Republic from the 
many republics of the past which have failed is the fact that its 
Constitution has made it a representative Government one 
whose policies and laws are determined by representatives of 
the people, and not directly by the people themselves. This 
principle was long recognized in the government of our political 
parties, but in the reaction against political corruption and in 
efficiency the primary laws which we have passed have largely 
done away with it. 

Our people, as is always the case when men are devoted to the 
upbuilding of a new country, concern themselves largely with 
economic problems affecting the development of material re 
sources, to the comparative neglect of questions of governmental 
administration. This fact is partly responsible for the indiffer 
ence with which corruption in politics and political administra 
tion is regarded for such long periods of time. However, when 


the public attitude of indifference to a widespread evil is changed 
into one of acute apprehension, we generally seize upon the 
most obvious remedy, which may or may not be the correct one. 
The abandonment of the representative form of party govern 
ment because corruption had existed in spite of it, which was 
effected by the adoption of the primary system as it is at present, 
is an instance of that proneness to error in applying remedies 
which characterizes a thoroughly indignant people. We as 
sumed that representative party government was responsible for 
the existence of political rascals, without realizing that political 
rascals will always exist and be active under any form of party 
government. We substituted the primary system for conven 
tions to nominate public officials and imagined that we had 
abolished political rascality. Enough years have now elapsed for 
us to recognize the great damage thus done to our Government 
and our people. 

Of all the causes which contribute to the falling off in the pro 
portion of qualified voters who vote, unquestionably the lack of 
clear and contested issues upon principles and candidates is one of 
the most serious. Nothing so discourages the average American 
voter in going to the polls as the feeling that his vote will not help 
toward a real decision of principles and policies as exemplified 
by candidates and party platforms. When the average impar 
tial, as distinguished from an interested, voter feels at a general 
election that both candidates are unworthy, he often prefers to 
vote for neither and absents himself from the polls. Likewise 
when, being a member of a political party, he finds its candidate 
nominated under the primary system at variance with his party 
policy and platform, he is inclined to stay away from the polls 
rather than vote for the candidate of the opposing party. 

In the Presidential election of 1924, but six years after the 
World War, only fifty -two per cent, of the voters of our country 
availed themselves of the great privilege of the franchise. 

If the American Government is to be a success, the American 
people must vote. Indifference in the attitude of the American 
public toward the franchise is the greatest existing menace to 
American institutions. It is tending to substitute government 
by aggressive and interested minorities for government by the 


people. Especially is this the case in State, county and city 
elections. The percentage of the qualified vote cast in non- 
Presidential years is far below the fifty -two per cent, cast in the 
1924 Presidential election. After making some examination into 
statistics gathered from different localities, I should say that in 
the primary contests preceding elections in non-Presidential years 
in State, county and city elections, North, South, East and West, 
an estimate that twenty-five per cent, of the qualified vote is cast 
is, if anything, excessive. Since there are still two dominant 
political parties, the vote in most localities is quite evenly divided 
between them. In such event the choice of the candidates to be 
voted on at a future election is determined in each party by a 
majority or plurality, as the case may be, of only about twelve 
and one-half per cent, of the electors. Under such circumstances, 
men who are elected to office are thus selected by a small minority 
of around seven per cent, of the qualified voters. 

We all realize that, as our national wealth and population 
increase and business broadens and becomes more diversified, 
there arises the necessity not only for the centralization of greater 
power in State, county and city government, but also for its 
constant use in the carrying out of its legitimate projects. 

Especially is this true in connection with State Governments. 
Immense road-building projects are being carried out by States, 
assisted by the National Government. Our State and city 
administrations are accustomed not only to use public employees 
in getting out a primary vote to maintain an existing administra 
tion in power, but in many places all those interested in construc 
tion or other public contracts with their organization and em 
ployees are expected to perform active service in getting out the 
primary vote for the same purpose. 

At the time, therefore, when owing to the indifference of the 
public to the franchise, the number of qualified voters necessary 
to control a primary election is lessening, the number of those 
having a business interest in the continuance of an existing 
administration and willing to work at the polls for it is rapidly 
increasing. While the general and impartial vote is decreasing, 
the controlled vote is increasing. It is to be hoped that in most 
localities there is a scrupulous and proper use of centralized 


power, but it is not too much to say that in some States and 
cities the power of the administration is so exerted that the 
dominant party will always present candidates at the election 
selected by those having a business and personal interest in the 
continuance of the administration. Where this is the case we 
have changed from a representative government of the people 
into an oligarchy dominated by self-interest. 

The primary ticket open to all aspirants for nominations in 
elections, where many candidates are to be chosen, results in a 
ticket containing so many names unknown to the impartial voter 
that he votes in the dark. This again results in a division of the 
impartial vote among many candidates and an almost inevitable 
plurality for the organization candidates that is candidates 
supported by an existing administration possessing patronage and 
the power of letting public contracts, which can bunch its con 
trolled votes against a scattered field. The election of such 
candidates at the general election afterward, because of the habit 
of party regularity on the part of the impartial voter, means the 
rule of an oligarchy and the loss of free and clean government. 

Under the old convention system such a condition would en 
courage the drafting and nomination of clean candidates by the 
opposition party in order to gain an advantage from a clear issue 
at the polls between clean and unclean government. Under the 
primary system, however, the opposition can not draft its strong 
est men as candidates to emphasize the issue. The opposition 
party is as likely to choose unknown or incompetent men as can 
didates as if the chance did not exist to make good government an 
issue by proper nominations. 

The primary system is responsible for an enormous and im 
proper use of money in contests under it, and is steadily tending 
to debauch our electorate. Since it lessens the opportunity of 
minority parties properly to make an issue of corruption before 
the public, it largely insures immunity to vote-buyers from po 
litical or legal consequences with resultant increase in their 
activity. So immense are the sums which must be spent to 
advertise himself under the primary system, even along 
legitimate lines, by a comparatively unknown candidate for a 
State or National office, that under these circumstances only a 


very rich man, a man with rich men behind him, or a man with an 
organization behind and generally controlling him, is likely to 
succeed. When candidates offer themselves at the primaries, 
personalities and position upon local issues necessarily tend to 
overshadow the position of the candidate upon the National issues 
advocated by his party. In many instances, in Senatorial and 
Congressional, as well as State, county and city contests, the 
nominee of the party selected by a plurality vote at a primary 
with a majority vote divided among several candidates, will 
represent ideas obnoxious to the majority and to his party. Yet 
when he is nominated the habit of party regularity will still 
affect enough of the majority to result in his election. 

The present primary system, therefore, is responsible for the 
election by parties of some men whose chief effort after election 
seems to be to disorganize their party and fight its policies. It 
is destroying our two party system, and under it we have wit 
nessed a general breakdown in the standard of official personnel. 

Among a great business people like our own, it is natural that 
economic questions constantly tend to overshadow other Na 
tional issues. As economic issues come to the front which con 
cern different sections unequally, they have a tendency to divide 
Congress into economic groups . Each minority group, concerned 
more with the economic issue affecting their locality than with 
general National policies, tends to join other minority groups or 
the opposition party in a general attitude of obstruction and 
hostility. A majority, when composed of a fusion of minority 
groups, each with a differing purpose, is generally unable to unite 
in a constructive programme and confines itself largely to ob 
structive tactics. Congress, therefore, tends to lose the power 
of constructive action. The primary system of nomination, 
lessening the dependence of candidates for nomination upon their 
party record, adds constantly to the number in Congress of those 
wearing the party label who fight their party's policies. They 
are aided by rules in the Senate which extend the power of mi 
nority obstruction far beyond anything intended by the Constitu 
tion. Largely because of the primaries in their present form, 
therefore, we are threatened with a regime of the bloc system in 
Congress from which, if it is not arrested, we are in danger of a 
breakdown in parliamentary efficiency which today is such an 


outstanding characteristic in the government of European 
countries; a situation so acute there as to have resulted in the 
abandonment, at least temporarily, of parliamentary government 
in Poland, Italy and Spain. 

Unfortunately, the legislators, both National and State, who 
must be depended upon to pass the necessary legislation modify 
ing the primary system so as to embody with it the representative 
convention system, are the beneficiaries of it. Any man nomi 
nated under the present primary system and elected to office, 
although the majority of those who voted at the primary and the 
following election may have voted simply for the name without 
knowledge of the individual himself, acquires an advantage at any 
following election from the mere fact that his name has once 
been voted upon. This naturally affects his attitude on the 
question, first, because it adds to his political strength and, 
second, because it is difficult for him to believe that any system, 
whatever its form, under which he is selected for office, is not a 
wise system. As recent political events are impressing upon the 
public conscience a better knowledge of the evils of the primary 
system, we hear protest against its modification. It is intimated 
that those who desire to see the primary system modified do so 
because it takes less money to buy a convention than to buy off 
a majority of those voting in the primary. It would be just as 
logical for one to charge those who favor the retention of the 
present primary with a desire to see the whole electorate cor 
rupted instead of the smaller number which comprises a conven 
tion. There is, of course, no real merit attached to either con 
tention, but it illustrates the low grade of argument to which we 
may expect to listen in connection with primary reform. Super 
ficial arguments such as this only emphasize the dangers of the 
present primary system, where the good talker and the good 
mixer often succeeds in nominating himself. Primaries should 
be retained for the selection of convention delegates, but until we 
provide again for the convention system of party nominations to 
accompany them, we may expect little improvement in existing 
political conditions. If we are reasonably to hope for real re 
form, we should return to the representative system of party 
government patterned upon the Government provided for our 
country by the Constitution of the United States. 



President of the Rockefeller Foundation 

IT is human to delight in a sweeping generalization. If it be 
startling or paradoxical, so much the better. But at all costs it 
must be unqualified. The lay mind has little patience with the 
caution, hedging and half-hearted admissions of the conscientious 
scientist as he explores the unknown. He seems to cut a poor 
figure ; he throws away only slightly damaged hypotheses to begin 
work upon new ones; he refuses to assert anything roundly; 
he is always spoiling a satisfying conclusion by pointing out 
exceptions, defects, limitations and the need of further investiga 
tion. He is a depressing popular speaker, and has no gift for 
writing articles on "Sunday Supplement" Science. He refuses 
to supply sufficiently complete and dramatic truths. 

An assertion of the late Dr. Herman M. Biggs affords an illus 
tration in point: "Public Health is purchasable within natural 
limitations. Any community can determine its own death 
rate." This dictum was useful; it arrested attention and helped 
to secure appropriations for public health. The emphasis quite 
naturally rested on the word "purchasable". The idea that 
health is something to be had as it were in a carton over the 
counter in exchange for cash is so simple that it satisfies the 
average, uncritical person. But the moment the "natural 
limitations" mentioned in this statement are enumerated it loses 
much of its magic. 

Let it, for example, be rephrased in this fashion: "If the neces 
sary scientific knowledge is available, if an efficient technique of 
practical application has been worked out, if capable and well 
trained officials are in authority, if an administrative organization 
of the proper type has been set up, then the expenditure of 
increasing sums of money upon such activities as experience has 
proved to be effective in the prevention of disease will result in a 
decreasing rate of sickness and death; subject, however, to the 


law of diminishing returns and the approaching of a limit which 
is determined by biological and environmental conditions that 
are as yet very imperfectly understood and to only a slight extent 
subject to human control." That sentence will spoil the whole 
idea for the man in the street, who wants his generalizations 
straight with no nonsense nor shilly-shallying. 

There is another generalization about health which is rather 
more satisfying to the average layman. "Infant mortality," 
says an eminent British authority, "is the most sensitive index 
we possess of social welfare." Here is a concrete test of national 
progress. One has only to find out how many of a thousand 
babies born alive in each country die before they reach the age 
of one year. Then it is a simple thing to arrange the different 
Nations in a scale from low to high. The relative place of any 
one of them becomes clear at a glance. Here surely is a precise 
test. Someone has called it the infant mortality thermometer. 

This index of social welfare is seemingly so definite and simple 
that at first thought the layman feels he has at last something to 
bank on. Surely the experts will not qualify this statement into 
nothing but a timid hope. Not quite that, certainly, but they 
do raise somewhat disturbing questions. Here are some of them: 
How far are infant deaths preventable by direct and purposeful 
social action? To what extent do improved social or economic 
conditions, quite apart from conscious health measures, reduce 
the death rate of babies? Do we, as a matter of fact, get suf 
ficiently accurate statistics to make domestic and international 
comparisons mean very much? Is a low infant mortality rate 
really a good thing, or does it after all do harm in the long run? 
How is social welfare to be defined? Is it the same thing as 
civilization? Is the infant mortality rate a test of culture or of 
comfort? Thus it turns out that the subject is not exhausted by 
the statement of it. 

Only in this century has the baby death rate fallen in a striking 
way and become increasingly of moment to the public health 
authorities. In 1900 in New York City the rate was 183. In 


1925 in about the same municipal area it had fallen to 67. In 
London during the same period the decline was from 159 to 68. 
Almost without exception there has been improvement through 
out the world in the cities and countries which gather fairly 
accurate information. The higher rates of infant mortality in 
certain Nations during the war went to prove only the sensitive 
ness of baby deaths as an index of social conditions. It is to be 
remembered, too, that this infant mortality test has a significant 
relation to the amount of sickness among children; it is also an 
index of illness. For every baby that dies, many are in some 
degree ailing. 


In order to trace the causes for the decline in infant mortality 
one must have in mind the leading diseases from which babies 
ordinarily die. First of all come debility, malformations, 
premature births, malnutrition, injuries in delivery, hereditary 
syphilis. These take heavy toll in early infancy. Then follow 
disorders of digestion and infections of the nose, throat and lungs. 
In 1921, in the American States of the original 1915 "registra 
tion area", the infant mortality was 78.6. This was distributed 
among causes of death as follows: Diseases and injuries of early 
infancy, thirty -eight; maladies of digestion, sixteen; maladies of 
the organs of breathing, eleven; certain communicable affections, 
six; other causes, seven. As to the possibility of preventing the 
deaths traceable to inheritance, pregnancy and delivery, authori 
ties differ. One school holds that such mortality is almost wholly 
inevitable and possibly salutary; another insists that it is to a 
considerable degree preventable by proper prenatal and ob 
stetrical care. 

Whatever the truth about the control of these early deaths 
may turn out to be, the fact is that so far the striking reduction in 
infant mortality has been chiefly due to the prevention of mala 
dies which attack the organs of digestion and breathing, especially 
the former. During the last quarter-century, for example, in 
the United States the infant death rate attributed to diarrhoea 
and inflammation of the intestines has fallen from forty or fifty 
deaths to the thousand infants, to twenty. On the other hand, 


the mortality from prenatal and delivery conditions seems to 
have increased from less than forty to forty-five. Very likely 
this latter change is apparent rather than real, and is due to more 
accurate diagnosis and reporting of causes of death. 


It seems clear, then, that in the cities and countries in which 
fewer and fewer babies have been dying, changes have been 
going on that have a bearing primarily upon diseases of diges 
tion and to a considerable degree upon infections of the organs of 
breathing. Someone has summed up the menace to babies as 
"food and flies". To this might be added "dust and crowding". 
Improved water supplies and the purification or pasteurizing 
of milk are conspicuous causes of lessened mortality. In towns 
and cities the substitution of sewers and water closets for open 
latrines, the prompt removal and disposal of refuse, the banishing 
of stables, the motor car deserves credit for indirectly saving 
life as well as blame for raising the death rate, the paving, 
cleaning and sprinkling of streets, have not only largely prevented 
the breeding of flies but rendered such as remain relatively harm 
less. A low infant death rate tells a story of good sanitation, 
pure water, a safeguarded milk supply, and the use of the house 
hold icebox and the public cold storage plant. It may also reveal 
the general practice of breast-feeding, for studies have shown that 
babies as ordinarily fed artificially have a mortality between 
three and four times as high as breast-fed infants. 

Fresh air and sunlight play a part in the health of babies as well 
as of children and grown-ups. It needs no argument to prove 
that better housing with good ventilation and lighting and access 
to open spaces, playgrounds and parks, other things being equal, 
improve the life chances of infants. But even fairly well designed 
houses and flats may be overcrowded. It has been shown that 
there is unmistakable relation between the number of rooms a 
family occupies and the sickness and death rate of its members. 
The greater the crowding, the higher the infant mortality. 
Doubts have been cast upon the idea that poverty, of which over 
crowding is ordinarily an evidence, is necessarily the direct 


cause of a high baby death rate. It is asserted that racial in 
heritance and other factors for example, breast-feeding may 
offset the handicaps of environment. The fact seems to be, 
however, that poverty works indirectly to raise the infant death 
rate through housing congestion, the mother's employment 
during pregnancy and the infant's first year, lack of medical 
attendance, defects of care, poor food, ignorance. At least one 
thorough statistical inquiry has revealed a striking connection 
between the income of a father and the mortality of his infant 
children. It seems safe to go upon the theory that a low rate of 
infant mortality reflects a fair state of home space, sunlight and 
air, or of outdoor life or a combination of the two, and a favorable 
level of income. 

Another phase of progress has influenced the baby death rate. 
The increasing control of communicable diseases, such as typhoid, 
smallpox, diphtheria, whooping cough, measles, scarlet fever, 
while it has not always had a direct bearing upon the health of 
infants, has probably in general improved conditions and pro 
moted baby welfare. It is reasonable to assume that continued 
advance in this activity will have a favorable effect. A low infant 
mortality is thus in some degree an index not only of sanitation 
but of a broader public health programme in a given community 
or country. 

At the risk of boring the reader, a few other causal relations 
may be merely mentioned. There is evidence to show a connec 
tion between the age of the mother and the infant death rate. 
Mothers under nineteen lose babies in numbers above the average. 
The maternal age period from twenty to thirty-four seems most 
favorable for infant survival. After thirty-five years the rate 
rises again. A first child has rather a poorer chance of living 
than a second, third or fourth. The fifth and subsequent babies 
have a less encouraging outlook. The spacing of babies is ap 
parently another factor to be reckoned with. In general and 
within limits the law seems to be, the longer the interval the lower 
the mortality. Illegitimacy has long been recognized, and for ob 
vious reasons, as invariably associated with a high baby and child 
death rate. In New Zealand, for instance, the rate for illegiti 
mate babies is 70, compared with 40 for infants born in wedlock. 



"Only sanitation plus education," says an English health 
authority, "reaches the child death rate." When the public 
has done what it can for the physical environment of the baby 
and has brought communicable diseases under control, further 
progress depends upon the competence of doctors, midwives and 
nurses, and upon the intelligence and solicitude of parents, 
especially of mothers in seeking and following authoritative 
advice about the feeding and care of their children. One would 
suppose, too, that the deaths of mothers in giving birth to children 
would have a direct effect upon infant mortality. But this 
does not seem to be borne out by the facts. New Zealand has 
the lowest infant death rate but at the same time a rather high 
mortality of mothers. The high maternity death rate in the 
United States twice that of England and three times the rate 
of Denmark not only reveals the presence of a large Negro 
population but reflects defects in the obstetrical training of 
American doctors, the incompetence of ill trained midwives, a 
shortage of visiting nurses, as well as an often low standard of 
popular intelligence. 

It has been said that the progress of the modern health move 
ment has been from the community to the individual adult, from 
the adult to the child, from the child to the infant, and that of 
late stress has been put upon the first month of life and even upon 
the prenatal period. Eugenics would go still further back to 
parenthood. In general the tendency has been from sanitation 
to hygiene; first water supplies and disposal of wastes; then con 
trol of communicable diseases; finally individual hygiene, indus 
trial hygiene, social hygiene, mental hygiene, medical inspection 
of school children, the care of pre-school children, infant and 
maternal welfare. Dispensaries, health centres, milk stations, 
visiting nurses, have been the direct agencies by which prenatal 
and confinement care, oversight of infancy, the training of moth 
ers, the education of the general public, have been carried on, 
notably in New Zealand, Great Britain, Australia, the Scandi 
navian countries, the United States and Canada. Again it 
should be noted that the ability to initiate and support things 


like these is in itself an evidence of leadership, public intelligence 
and economic strength. 

One has only to list the changes which have been going on as 
the infant death rate has been falling, to see that he has to do with 
a complicated case of multiple causation. It is rather like an 
American political election in which many different issues have 
been put forward. Which of them was actually victorious? 
The wiseacres and partisans have material for endless and 
generally inconclusive discussion. So, too, with this question 
of infant mortality. It is only natural for the people who are 
engaged in purposeful and direct maternity and infant welfare 
work to claim a large share of the credit and to resent the attitude 
of another group who declare that the gain is chiefly due to an 
improvement in general conditions of sanitation, municipal 
administration, housing, recreation, standard of living and educa 
tion of the public. 

There is another factor, that of race and nationality, which is 
particularly obscure and baffling. The infant death rate among 
the foreign born in the United States is higher than in the native 
born group (in 1922: 85 and 68 respectively). Moreover the 
immigrants from different countries seem to bring with them 
something like the infant mortality rates of their foreign homes. 
Whether the importation of customs from the homeland explains 
this, or whether there is an innate racial or national influence, 
no one can prove convincingly. Attempts to isolate this heredi 
tary factor have so far failed. But some experts believe that 
nationality must still be regarded as an important but unmeas 
ured influence in infant mortality. 

What is true of race and nationality applies in some degree to all 
but a few of the other causes. To assign to each even an ap 
proximate rating is almost or quite impossible. The problem 
is too complicated. No two communities are identical. In 
one, direct infant welfare work may largely counterbalance 
defects in sanitation. In another, a high level of municipal 
housekeeping and a homogeneous and intelligent population 
may make special efforts in behalf of babies much less necessary 
and influential in reducing infant mortality. But there is no 
need of waiting for convincing statistical proof on a large scale 


to justify the modern health programme for infants and children. 
There can be no doubt that it has been a significant factor not 
only in reducing sickness and death among babies, but also in 
instructing individuals and families and in inducing the public 
to support a variety of measures which directly or indirectly 
safeguard the health of the community. 

But at this point a radical doubt about baby -saving demands 
at least passing notice. There are people who think that the 
recent decline in infant mortality is by no means an unmixed 
blessing. They declare that unfit babies are being kept alive, 
that fewer deaths in the first year only mean more in the following 
annual periods, and that the present tendency if it continues will 
both impair racial efficiency and hasten the coming of over 
population with all its attendant evils. It is hard to keep dis 
cussions of this problem close to verifiable facts. Theoretical 
speculation is pretty certain to be vague and largely futile. 

The defenders of infant welfare work insist that the high 
mortality of the first days and weeks of life even though this 
be reduced by improved prenatal and confinement care will 
continue to eliminate the weakest. They further maintain that 
most of the diseases of infancy cannot be depended upon to be 
selective in weeding out the least promising babies. As to the 
effect of a lowered first year mortality on that of later periods, a 
recent study of vital statistics in Chicago for the years 1900-1925 
shows that improvement was not massed in the first year but 
continued through the four subsequent years; that is, the weak 
were not kept alive merely to die a little later on. 

One answer to the prediction of race deterioration and over 
population is that a long experience will be necessary to demon 
strate the first and that new sources of food supply are likely to 
be found indefinitely to postpone the second. But the really 
pertinent question is this : In a world competition, is not emphasis 
shifting from the fitness of the individual to the fitness of the 
group? Is it not the fit Nation that will survive? And are 
not the ideals and sentiments which foster the young, care for 


the sick, and cherish the aged, inextricably bound up with the 
forces of social solidarity and group efficiency? To know how 
to save life and to withhold the means is only a step from the 
exposure of infants. Of this, modern society is incapable. Only 
by putting a stop to research and by a hardening of hearts could 
this be brought about. The classical story of the dog-fancying 
bachelor who on inspecting the twins said: "I'd keep that one," 
gets all its point from its essential impossibility in modern society. 
It would not have seemed humorous in Sparta. 


But the reader grows weary of detailed analysis and of some 
what vague speculation. He is more than ready to grant that 
infant mortality is at least a rough index of living conditions, 
distribution of wealth, intelligence, social efficiency, in many 
different combinations. What he wants to know is how various 
countries stand when this test is applied. Or perhaps he is 
curious as to the relative place of his own community among the 
cities of the United States. It would seem to be simple enough 
to get the statistics and to arrange the results in scales, hierarchies 
and thermometers. Certainly, this can be done and will be done 
a little later in this article, but unfortunately the thing is not 
quite so simple as it seems, and the results are far from being as 
accurate as one would like to have them. 

So before comparisons are made, a few things are to be said 
about vital statistics, that is, records of marriages, births, deaths, 
and sometimes of sickness. While these facts are gathered in all 
well organized countries, the results vary widely in accuracy 
and significance. Some Nations, China, for instance, have no 
statistics at all. Even the total of the Chinese population is 
unknown. Estimates which are really little more than guesses 
about births and deaths are based on meagre and widely scattered 
data in mission hospitals and dispensaries or on untypical records 
in foreign concessions. On the other hand, the vital statistics 
of England, Scotland and Wales, of the Scandinavian countries, 
and of Holland and Germany, set a high standard. 

Unfortunately, not all the Commonwealths in the United 


States have reached the same level. Even among the thirty- 
five States whose reports enjoy official international recognition 
there is considerable variation in the accuracy and completeness 
of the returns. Of the thirteen other States, six (Alabama, Colo 
rado, Louisiana, Missouri, South Carolina and Tennessee) make 
acceptable reports of deaths, but not of births, while the remain 
ing seven (Arkansas, Georgia, Nevada, New Mexico, Oklahoma, 
South Dakota and Texas) are unable to offer satisfactory returns 
of either births or deaths. In most of these thirteen states either 
the presence of a large Negro population or the wide distribution 
of people over a large frontier region offers explanation if not 
excuse for failure to meet modern standards. While this short 
coming is in general an evidence of apathy, it is sometimes due 
in part to active opposition. During a recent attempt to induce 
the Legislature of Georgia to provide funds for improving the 
vital statistical service, a doctor violently attacked the plan. 
He denounced the gathering of statistics as a violation of the 
individual's right to privacy, and a ghoulish invasion of the 
death chamber. 

This variation within the United States is to be found in other 
countries. In Chile, for example, fairly trustworthy facts are 
available for cities like Santiago and Valparaiso, and for the 
central valley of the South, but with respect to remote settle 
ments in the foot-hills and mountains the information is of a 
quite different sort. The report for a whole country may thus 
give a misleading picture. A similar distortion results from the 
use of averages, as will presently be pointed out in its bearing on 
infant mortality. The average death rate may either reveal 
almost uniform conditions throughout a city or country, or may 
conceal the fact that in mining and industrial towns a dangerously 
high rate is offset by the favorable mortality of countryside and 
residential towns. 


Enough has been said to warn the reader against putting un 
critical faith in vital statistics. One should know the conditions 
under which they are gathered and should realize the need of 
cautious, even suspicious, interpretation. This being true, it 

VOL. ccxxrv. NO. 835 14 


follows that the statistical comparison of one country with an 
other becomes a rather precarious adventure. This applies 
particularly to the causes to which deaths are attributed. Of 
late there has been some progress made towards a more uniform 

Through an International Office d* Hygiene in Paris, attempts 
have been made to agree upon a list of "causes of death " which all 
cooperating countries will use in their reports. But obviously 
the value of these returns will depend among other things upon 
the number of cases actually seen by doctors, upon the skill of 
doctors in diagnosing diseases, one country, for example, used 
to report a quarter of its deaths as from causes unknown, and 
upon the method of transmitting the certificates of death. If 
these are given by physicians openly to the relatives of the de 
ceased instead of being sent directly and secretly to a government 
bureau, the result will vary a good deal from that in countries 
where the latter procedure is enforced. There are diseases from 
which a kindly and sympathetic doctor will not let a patient die. 
For example, in countries where tuberculosis used to carry a kind 
of stigma, it was not strange that benevolent family physicians 
comforted the mourners of those who fell victims to consumption 
with verdicts of bronchitis and pneumonia. 

Records of infant births and deaths are not only subject to the 
errors which have been mentioned but are affected by special 
causes. General carelessness in reporting for a whole population 
is likely to be particularly true of babies, notably if they die 
within a short time of birth. Again, experience seems to show 
that deaths are less in danger of being overlooked than births. 
The effect of this is to increase the apparent mortality rate and 
to give a misleading picture. Comparisons are also sometimes 
deceptive because of differences of practice. Certain countries 
used to include still births among infant deaths. This would 
naturally exaggerate the mortality when it was measured by the 
rate of countries which used only live birth figures. The almost 
universal rule which is now applied defines infant mortality, as 
has been already said, as the number of every thousand babies 
born alive who die before they reach the age of one year. 

There are still other disturbing factors. In France three 


days are allowed for the registration of a birth. If a baby 
born alive dies within three days neither its birth nor its death 
is recorded. Here is still another example of divergence. The 
fact that so many infants are sent out of Paris to nurses in the 
country introduces a complication. Deaths among these babies 
are reported locally and tend to make the Paris rate of infant 
mortality seem somewhat more favorable than it really is. Or 
in the case of other cities the situation may be reversed. Many 
babies brought in from the country to clinics and hospitals for 
treatment die and add to the urban mortality rate. One more 
instance may be given. The adding of new suburbs to a city 
may bring down the rate of the enlarged municipality without 
changing the actual situation at all. The more favorable rate 
of the annexed district merely reduces a little the statistical 
average of the whole city. 

The limitations of this statistical average have already been 
mentioned. It deserves a little further attention. The general 
value of the average as a mental tool must be admitted. After 
all, it is well nigh impossible to get on without the idea. Nor 
mality itself is in the end usually defined in terms of the average. 
But when this average is derived from widely varying social 
facts scattered over a large area, the result may signally fail to 
give a true impression. It is gratifying, for example, to an 
American to learn that the average infant mortality in the regis 
tration area the States whose figures are accepted of the United 
States was only seventy-two in 1925; but this will not tell him 
that in Martinsburg, West Virginia, it was 156; in Shenandoah, 
Pennsylvania, 145; in Jefferson City, Missouri, 133; in Pensacola, 
Florida, 124; in Chester, Pennsylvania, 105; in New Britain, 
Connecticut, 103; in New Orleans, Louisiana, 98; in Washington, 
D. C., 87; in Boston, Massachusetts, 85. Nor on the other hand 
does the average give any hint that the rate of San Francisco, 
California, was 55; of Seattle, Washington, 45; of Maiden, 
Massachusetts, 40; of Oak Park, Illinois, 35; and of Winona, 
Minnesota, and Stonington, Connecticut, 32. This applies to a 
single city as well as to a whole country. It is necessary to know 
the figures for each district. A serious problem may be concealed 
by what seems to be a fairly good average. For example, in 


London in 1922 the rate varied from 103 in a congested region 
like Shoreditch to 55 in the West End Borough of Westminster. 
In connection with this trickiness of the statistical average, an 
effect of the lowering of infant mortality calls for a few words. 
Much has been made of late of the success of preventive medicine 
in prolonging human life. It is shown that the average age at 
death has been rising steadily during recent decades. The middle 
aged reader of these reports has a comfortable feeling that his 
personal lease of life has been quite rightly extended. So it is 
something of a shock to him to learn that this increase in the 
average has been largely, perhaps chiefly, due to the fact that 
so many more babies are growing up to contribute their accumu 
lating years to the grand total to be distributed. 


But it is high time to put an end to these tiresome cavils about 
statistics and to give a list of the Nations in the order of their 
success in keeping babies alive. Once more the reader is warned 
that the figures are far from being equally trustworthy (they are 
not even all for the same year), and that they cover within many 
of the countries widely divergent conditions. Here, then, is the 
best that can be done at present: New Zealand 40, Norway 49, 
Australia 53, Sweden 55, Switzerland 61, Union of South Africa 
69, United States 72, England and W 7 ales 75, Canada 79, Den 
mark 81, France 89, Belgium 100, Uruguay 104, Finland 107, 
Germany 108, Italy 128, Austria 141, Spain 143, Czechoslovakia 
146, Russia (in Europe) 147, Egypt 150, Venezuela 161, Japan 
163, Hungary 168, Lithuania 170, British India 176, Argentina 
182, Rumania 207, Chile 266. 

It is a temptation to speculate about the causes which distrib 
ute the Nations in this scale. The explanation of the lowest 
rate is not obscure. New Zealand's record is the envy of the 
world. Here are found a sturdy stock, a healthful climate, a 
favorable distribution of the population, a general diffusion of 
well being, a good level of public education, and a notable system 
of infant welfare work. It has even been suggested that some 
of the Old World germs have not yet found their way to this 


paradise of the Pacific. But it is not so easy to understand at 
first glance why England and the United States, in which condi 
tions seem so widely different, should have almost the same rate. 
Again it must be kept in mind that no one factor but a combina 
tion of factors is measured by this infant mortality index. Possi 
bly advantages in homogeneity of population, sanitation, control 
of communicable diseases, law enforcement, outdoor life, in 
England nearly offset the generally superior climatic, economic 
and social conditions which prevail in the United States. It 
must be remembered, too, that if the Negro population its 
infant mortality is always higher than the White were excluded 
from the American totals, the result would be different. Another 
comparison challenges attention. Why should Denmark, one 
of the most efficient and intelligent countries of all, be tenth in 
the list? But it profits little to attempt explanations of situations 
so complex. 

Infant welfare, along with the improvement of all health pro 
tection, is becoming increasingly an international concern. In 
1912 the reduction of infant mortality was a leading topic in 
the programme of the fifteenth International Congress on Health 
and Demography in Washington. The Health Committee of the 
League of Nations is now giving special attention to the task of 
getting the member Nations to make more accurate and compara 
ble reports of births and deaths. Non-governmental agencies, 
like the League of Red Cross Societies and the Rockefeller Foun 
dation, are playing some part also in this international campaign. 

It would be gratuitous to argue that infant mortality is not a 
sensitive index of civilization or of culture in their wider meaning. 
It would, for example, be hard to show any significant relation 
between baby deaths and the development of science, philosophy, 
painting, music, literature. But there can be no doubt that 
infant mortality is a useful measure of the degree to which a 
population group has been able to control its environment, 
distribute its wealth, and educate its citizens. If one is limited 
to putting a single question about a city, a State, or a Nation, 
let him ask this: "Of a thousand of your live born babies, how 
many die within their first year?" 




WHEN we attempt to estimate what would be an adequate 
naval force for the United States to maintain, under the authority 
imposed upon Congress by the Constitution, it would be well to 
consider first the place which we hold in relation to the other na 
tions of the earth. The Republic of Andorra does not need a 
military force to resist invasion from without, because that coun 
try has nothing that another nation would covet. Well-meaning 
people doubtless live in Andorra and have that which suits their 
desires, but I should not think of comparing the military needs 
of the United States with those of that peaceful republic, which 
has had no war for a thousand years. Perhaps Andorra has 
neither men who wish to fight nor things over which to fight. 
She has lived an undisturbed life among peoples often in conflict, 
and she may continue to live on enjoying her well deserved peace. 
On the other hand, during about one-half of the one hundred 
and fifty-one years of our independence, we have been involved 
in strife of some kind in which the regular, organized military 
forces of the United States, under the direction of the Chief Ex 
ecutive, have been employed in the enforcement of American 
rights or the preservation of American lives. 

It must not be forgotten that we live in America, and not in 
Andorra; that we obtained our independence through eight years 
of bloodshed and privation; that much of the intense, patriotic 
feeling which moved the American people from 1775 to 1783 has 
been passed down to their descendants ; and that during the years 
which have followed, they have acquired much lands and goods, 
and rights abroad, which require military force to protect. Not 
the least important possession of all is that known as " American 
pride". I am thankful that I have lived during a time when this 
pride has increased with the increase of our responsibilities. Our 
people raise their voices for peace, while they clench their hands 
for war. There is no American who appreciates the services 


rendered by our ancestors one hundred and fifty years ago who 
would dare to advocate the abolition of our military forces. We 
all admit the necessity of an adequate force, but the use of the 
word does not help us in providing it. This American pride is 
injected into America's youth through all the school books where 
is read, "Millions for defense, but not one cent for tribute." He 
would be an outcast who should advocate millions for tribute, but 
not one cent for defense. 

I recall the War with Spain in 1898. I was one Member of 
Congress who voted for the resolution declaring it. Many of us 
resisted the pressure of the people for three months, until finally 
Congress yielded to the inevitable and passed the resolution. It 
was the pride of the American people, aroused over the sight of 
suffering humanity and in the cause of those deprived of liberty, 
that brought on this conflict. Other reasons were stated, by our 
President, but all of us who lived then know what moved Con 
gress. In dealing with that characteristic of our people, national 
pride, it is the business of Congress to make provisions to sustain 

Americans have never submitted, and they never will submit 
willingly, to any Nation which challenges their just rights 
through the show of military force. To argue against this is to 
argue without facts and without reason, and my statement is 
proved by recalling the conflicts which we have had during the 
one hundred and fifty-one years of our independence. The 
major wars in which both the Army and Navy have taken part 
were: In 1775-83, the War of Independence; in 1812-15, the sec 
ond War with Great Britain; in 1846-48, the War with Mexico; 
in 1861-65, the Civil War; in 1898-1900, the Spanish War and 
Philippine Insurrection; in 1900, the Boxer Campaign; in 1917- 
18, the World War. 

In addition to these wars, the Navy has participated in the fol 
lowing campaigns, expeditions and combats: In 1798-99, the War 
with France; in 1801-05, the War with Tripoli; in 1807, the Ches 
apeake-Leopard affair; in 1811, the President-Little Belt affair; 
in 1815, the War with Algiers and demonstrations against Tunis 
and Tripoli; in 1821-24, campaigns against West Indian pirates; 
in 1863, the Wyoming's action against Japanese pirates in 


Shimonoseki Straits; in 1894, the Rio de Janeiro affair; in 1912, 
the Nicaraguan campaign; in 1914, the Vera Cruz affair; in 1915, 
the Haitian campaign; in 1916, the Dominican campaign; in 
1919-20, the Haitian campaign; in 1924-27, operations on the 
Yangtze River; in 1926-27, the Nicaraguan intervention; in 1927, 
the Chinese expedition. 

While the Navy has been thus engaged at sea, our Army has 
carried on no less than twenty-three campaigns against the Indi 
ans, many of them marked with serious fighting: In 1776, the 
Cherokee attack on settlements in Eastern Tennessee and North 
Carolina; in 1778, the massacre of Wyoming in Pennsylvania; in 
1779, the expedition of General Sullivan against the Iroquois; in 
1790, the Indian War; in 1790, General Harmer defeated; in 1791, 
General St. Clair's campaign; in 1794, General Wayne victorious; 
in 1803, Navajos in hostility to the whites; in 1811, the war in 
cited by Tecumseh; in 1812, the Winnebagoes and Dakotas took 
sides with the English in the war against the United States; in 
1813, the Creek War; in 1817, Border warfare with the Sem- 
inoles; in 1832, the Black Hawk War; in 1835, the Seminole War; 
in 1848, trouble with Oregon Indians; in 1855, the Rogue River 
War; in 1862, the Sioux Rebellion; in 1862, an Apache outbreak; 
in 1865, an outbreak of the Shoshones; in 1872, an Apache out 
break; in 1873, the Modoc War; in 1876, the Sioux Rebellion; in 
1879, war with the Utes; in 1890, the Dakota Rebellion; in 1916, 
General Pershing's campaign against Villa. 

Thus it is shown that either our Army or Navy, or both of 
them, have been employed in forty -eight wars and warlike opera 
tions, during seventy -nine years of the period from 1775 to 1927. 
In all these seventy-nine years of armed conflict we prevailed be 
cause of our military supremacy; America has never since the es 
tablishment of her Army and Navy besought her enemy to with 
hold its force, that we might pay tribute and avoid a conflict. 

It is contended by some that a number of these armed conflicts 
might have been avoided, or made less costly in both men and 
money, if America had been provided with sufficient military 
armament. We should so regard these past lessons that they 
may the better prepare us for the future, either to secure a peace 
honorable to ourselves or to make a successful defense against 


those who would assail us. There are other powerful Nations in 
the world, with the same national pride that we Americans have; 
and, like us, they have lands and goods to be coveted and many 
rights to be preserved. These Nations are crowding each other 
for commerce, and I know of no way to protect it against the 
would-be destroyer except by the method that has always been 
employed. All of these Nations, including our own, have out 
lying possessions, and, having assumed the responsibility of gov 
ernment for their people, it is their duty to provide the means of 
protection. The Nation which would decline to supply the pro 
tection involved in that responsibility, is unfitted for the task it 
has undertaken. 

America's pride in her ability to administer government for 
herself and her dependents will always demand a sufficient force 
to maintain that ability. Wherein is this to be found? Why do 
we need battleships and battle cruisers, light cruisers and torpedo 
boat destroyers, aircraft and aircraft carriers, in time of peace? 
First, because they constitute the material part of that force 
known as a Navy, maintained ready for instant service. It 
cannot be supplied when an emergency arises. This was contem 
plated by the Constitution makers. Second, even if such arma 
ment could be bought at any time in an open market for reason 
able figures, we must have it for the training of our personnel. 
These weapons will not fight themselves. They have to be em 
ployed by the hands of man, and these hands must be experienced 
in such employment. Hence it becomes necessary to maintain a 
large force of highly trained men, available for any emergency; it 
takes longer to instruct men than it does to construct ships. The 
personnel and the material of these fighting machines are so de 
pendent, one upon the other, that it would be useless to have one 
without the other. After thirty years' study of the naval service, 
I am of the opinion that for its complete success much more at 
tention should be given to the personnel than to the material. 

It is only necessary to recall a bit of history of the naval situa 
tion during the War of Independence, when the Colonies were 
able to buy some merchant vessels and arm them with the best 
kind of guns they could find. These ships were then turned over 
to crews inexperienced in naval warfare. The result was not sat- 


isfactory. Disputes arose among the seamen, and even among 
the officers, which practically destroyed their usefulness, and this 
sort of a floating force was expected to combat the English Navy 
that had been developed during hundreds of years. The disap 
pointing outcome can be summed up in the statement that of all 
the war craft provided by the Colonies, at the end of the war 
there remained only what could be counted on two fingers. In 
the critical Yorktown campaign, it was the French fleet of Count 
de Grasse upon which the Continental armies had to rely. We 
had no naval vessels capable of standing against the British 
squadrons. We could not buy a real war fleet, and had little 
time to build one. 

Recognizing the necessity for naval preparation, the great 
statesmen of that period wrote into the Constitution that Con 
gress should have the power to construct and maintain a Navy, 
and the legislators then undertook that this power conferred 
upon them should be at least in part observed. The War of 1812 
brought a different result, for then our naval personnel was 
trained and demonstrated its worth in many combats. The only 
criticism must be directed against its size rather than its effi 

Again, in 1898 the British ships took their places in Manila 
Bay between Dewey's little ships and the German squadron. It 
was this incident, more than any other, which determined us that 
thereafter we would take our own part and it should not be neces 
sary to look to our neighbor to protect us. I was one of those 
who then initiated a movement which resulted in a great Ameri 
can fleet. 

In endeavoring to measure what the word "adequate" should 
involve, we must not fail to recognize that some Nations do not 
seem to have much love for us. It may be for the fact that we 
have more money and are asking payment of certain obligations. 
It may be jealousy of our export commerce on the high seas. It 
may be that there is suspicion of our growing possessions beyond 
our own borders. It may be dislike of our extension of trade in 
every direction. It may be that the Doctrine of James Monroe 
is not quite acceptable. Be these things as they may, and as un 
fortunate as that supposed cold feeling may be, (greatly deplored 


by every American,) it is not altogether well to lose sight of the 
necessities there may be to provide for ourselves. 

We do not belong to the League of Nations, and America has 
decided not to join it. If we cannot induce the Powers further to 
limit their naval armaments, the necessity for a greater American 
sea force is thereby increased. We have had some dispute with 
Mexico, and we have been intervening in Nicaragua, and have 
had to send military forces to China. It is true that these Powers 
are not formidable in military armament. But suppose some of 
our stray bullets should happen to fly over the boundaries of a 
stronger Power? What then? 

It has been the policy of America, maintained by the present 
Administration, to secure safety to the property and persons of 
all our nationals, wherever their presence is permitted by a for 
eign Government and wherever their possessions have been hon 
estly and legitimately acquired. We do not need the employ 
ment of our eighteen great battleships in such minor expeditions. 
They are lying at their anchors and it is not anticipated that 
their use will be required. Yet I was among those who in 1914 
never thought that in 1917 we would make a declaration of war 
against Germany. Our wisest statesmen today make no fore 
casts of our possible complications upon the outbreak of hostility 
among our neighbors. 

I was one of a half dozen Members of Congress who determined 
in 1898, with the active influence of President McKinley, the 
Secretary of the Navy, John D. Long, and the Assistant Secre 
tary of the Navy, Theodore Roosevelt, that there should be con 
structed and maintained by this Government a sufficient naval 
force to answer all the Nation's needs. We understood that this 
force was to be employed as either the President of the United 
States or Congress might direct; and, bearing the Manila inci 
dent in mind, as told to us oftentimes by Admiral Dewey, we de 
termined that this force should be sufficient, no matter what its 
size might grow to be. We began this modern Navy by compar 
ing it with the navies of the different Nations. We knew no way 
of providing what is known as an "adequate" force, except by 
making this comparison. If other Nations reduce their navies, 
we will do likewise, and will be not only willing but glad to do so. 


If other Powers insist upon enlarging theirs, we must enlarge ours 
also. If they are willing to cut their forces in half, we will do 
likewise, and thank them for the opportunity to gratify the hopes 
and aspirations of the American people. 

We have adopted in these days the stereotyped phrase, "round 
ing out our fleet". America has eighteen big battleships; Eng 
land has twenty; Japan has ten. The military usefulness of 
these great ships is based upon numbers of smaller craft, without 
which the battleships could not exert their full power against an 
enemy. England, Japan, France and Italy have proceeded to 
construct these smaller craft, informing us that it is necessary for 
them to build these vessels for their own military purposes; which 
means, of course, to strengthen their fleets to the full ratios as 
signed in the Washington Treaty. America does not possess 
these smaller ships in the numbers necessary to balance her fleet 
properly, and thus we have fallen below the Treaty ratios. It is 
true, we have ten 7500-ton cruisers, well built, modern ships of 
war. Without going into figures which have been laid before the 
public during the last few months, it may be well to know that 
England has determined to "round out" her battleship fleet with 
sixty-four cruisers of nearly 400,000 tons, and has intimated un 
officially that she will insist on completing all the vessels at pres 
ent authorized. What Japan proposes to do, we cannot ac 
curately learn; but we believe, from the best authority obtainable, 
that her objective is twenty-nine such ships, so as to make her 
fleet available for all military purposes. She has avowed her in 
tention to begin the construction of more cruisers, and that she 
will not accept the 5-3 ratio in so far as this type of vessel is con 
cerned. France, as long ago as 1922, announced publicly her de 
termination to reserve to herself the right to build cruisers, de 
stroyers and submarines, far above her battleship ratio. She 
now repeats this determination. 

The President in his annual message to Congress said that the 
cruiser situation needed attention, and the Naval Affairs Com 
mittee of the House gave it that attention. Here, among other 
things, is what was discovered: That if the 5-5-3 ratio recom 
mended by the President be accepted by these countries and is 
based on the British displacements, we must build subsidiary 


craft costing this Government nearly four hundred million dol 
lars, provided we maintain a parity with Great Britain, which 
the President recommends should be done. I assume that no 
American would be willing to permit our battleships to drop in 
numbers and effectiveness behind those that were awarded to us 
by the Washington Conference, and I feel that I am equally safe 
in assuming that should the Nations agree to maintain the same 
ratio of smaller vessels, our people would insist on Congress pro 
viding for the full allowed quota of such vessels. I feel certain 
that if our Delegates should make a treaty which reduced our al 
lowance of modern cruisers below a parity with Great Britain and 
below a 5-3 superiority over Japan, the American people, through 
their Congress, would disapprove such a treaty. 

The question of America destroying any further ships is not be 
fore us, for we have nothing to destroy. We made our destruc 
tion in 1922. Now, we are asking these foreign Nations to make 
the same sacrifice, so as not to be compelled to enlarge our sub 
sidiary fleet to equal theirs. The hope is strong within me that 
these Nations may be willing to make the great sacrifice; but at 
the same time we must keep our minds open for the disappoint 
ment which we may suffer. 

It would seem to me that, if the Japanese Government or the 
British Government was thinking very well of America's pro 
posal for further limitation, and intended to destroy many of its 
cruisers so as to meet our wishes, it would not continue to spend 
large sums of money this year to be wasted next year. Remem 
ber that when we invited the Nations to come to the Washington 
Conference, we had something on hand; we had something to 
offer for sacrifice to tempt our visitors to agree. Now, we are is 
suing the invitation with a postscript to it, requesting them to 
make the sacrifice. The picture changes here. 

America has built and is building only 125,000 tons of cruisers. 
If the 5-5-3 ratio of cruisers is set at this figure, Great Britain 
would have to scrap 207,000 tons of cruisers and Japan would 
have to scrap 30,000 tons. I fear there is little chance that these 
countries will agree to such a sacrifice. If the ratio were based 
on the tonnage of vessels built, building and authorized, in order 
to reach a 5-5 ratio with Great Britain in subsidiary ships, assum- 


ing that she authorizes no further vessels, we should have to 
build twenty-one cruisers, one aircraft carrier, and four 2000-ton 
submarines, at a total cost of $382,000,000. In order to reach a 
5-3 ratio with Japan, we should have to build fourteen cruisers, 
one aircraft carrier, nineteen 2000-ton submarines, and seventeen 
1000-ton submarines, at a total cost of $396,000,000. 

Thus, even should an Arms Conference be successful in limit 
ing subsidiary craft on a 5-5-3 ratio, we would have an expensive 
building programme ahead of us. As we are falling farther be 
hind all the time, it is proper that our people should frankly 
adopt one of two alternatives: First, openly declare our policy of 
giving up the 5-5-3 ratio; or, second, build the ships to bring us to 
this ratio in every type of naval craft. 

To me, it is inconceivable that our people who, in 1922, volun 
tarily gave up naval supremacy for equality, should today, when 
causes for war are appearing, and a propaganda of hate is being 
directed at us from many sources, deliberately allow that sup 
posed equality to become a grave inferiority. I firmly believe 
that, now that the facts are known, American citizens every 
where will demand a Navy second to none, and will unite in say 
ing, "Don't give up the ships!" 

I have worked constantly for more than a quarter of a century 
to avoid a situation which would require America to expand her 
sea force. I now feel that failure is at hand, because the other 
Sea Powers have defined by their programmes what they deem 
to be adequate navies for their purposes, and show no willingness 
to reduce further. I can see no safe course for America, except 
to adopt a similar programme by making our Navy fully effective 
by supplying all needful craft to balance the fleet. In a single 
line, should a Conference fail, only one road is open to us, to 
build new ships to maintain a force at sea comparable with that 
maintained by the other Sea Powers. 



THE period since 1920, the height of farm country prosperity, 
has seen some crops above normal; it has experienced others that 
scarcely paid for the sowing; it has gone through great variations 
in price levels for products, and has struggled with towering over 
head expense. The task of the rural section has been elimination 
of the debris accumulated with freedom when expansion was the 

The real need of the producer all through this era of readjust 
ment has been a sufficiency of debt-paying power. Liberal crop 
yields might have furnished this had there not been previous 
lean years. Overhanging obligations called for all that could be 
spared in any year and when, as in the last season, there was only 
an average return, little headway could be made in cleaning 
house. The public, failing to understand the actual situation, 
and perhaps somewhat misled by reports of total incomes, has 
wondered at continued reports of financial embarrassment. 
Why should bank failures continue eight years after the war's 
end? Why should there yet be reports of " frozen assets" when 
so enormous volumes of production have been gathered? 

The truth is that few of the two hundred bank failures in the 
interior during 1926 were caused by anything that happened that 
year or in the two or three years preceding. Most suspensions 
came from long held claims against farmers and stockmen, im 
possible to collect. These banks had endeavored in vain to se 
cure liquidation. The country was not producing in dollars 
sufficiently to carry on its operations and at the same time lessen 
the contents of the bank's note case. The time came when the 
institutions' books were so badly out of balance that the doors 
were closed. Deplorable as were such events to the local com 
munities concerned, it was in effect a clearing of the bank fog, 
eliminating weak banks and bringing the number of institutions 
nearer to a fair relation to the actual needs of the communities. 


The efforts of the banking departments to "clean house" have 
been carried on with circumspection, but nevertheless it has been 
recognized that at some time there must be final reckoning and 
the sooner the financial status was established the better it would 
be for the farm section as a whole. So they have insisted on 
charging off dead notes as rapidly as possible, have demanded new 
capital where the investment was impaired, and have steadily 
sought to untangle the complicated skein of financial experiment 
that was the heritage of earlier days. 

The country banker knows that no single crop can completely 
rehabilitate conditions upset for over a half decade, and that time 
must enter as an element in solving the problems of diverse lines 
of credit based on hopes rather than on assets. The magnitude 
of the task is enhanced by the wide variance of development and 
of the degree and character of credit disturbances. Popularly, 
all that territory between the Mississippi and the Rocky Moun 
tains is grouped as "the West". To it are ascribed an approxi 
mately uniform climate, soil and productivity. Doubtless this 
idea comes from the tradition of early westward movements of 
population. For generations it was assumed that the Father of 
Waters marked the line of established Eastern civilization be 
yond was "new country". Yet fundamental differences actually 
make two longitudinal divisions of the vast area, the bread basket 
of the nation. Each has its peculiar tendencies in expansion; 
each calls for particular treatment in a period of recovery from a 
depression era. 

One diagnosis concerns the high plains country where agricul 
ture may be conducted on a grand scale, where are spreading 
wheat acreages and open range, with prairie towns separated by 
magnificent distances ; the other has to do with the older settled, 
abundantly watered, well wooded territory farther east where 
farms are comparatively small and where dairying, intensive cul 
tivation and a multitude of thriving towns and cities exist. 

The newer a country the more spectacular its ups and downs. 
The prairie section had keenest disappointment; it registered 
most rapid recovery. Since homestead days it has been accus 
tomed to widely fluctuating experiences. In a single year it has 
seen hundreds of thousands of settlers move out to "go back 


East to the wife's folks", or to seek more promising habitation; 
other years have recorded an immigration as extensive. A series 
of seasons with extremely meager crops, apparently dooming 
agriculture to extinction, have been followed by bursting bins and 
fat bank accounts. From 1920 to 1926 this section had hundreds 
of bank failures; it defaulted in interest payments; it toiled with 
out gaining an income equal to its outgo. In 1924 it harvested a 
bumper crop of highest quality wheat; from a price that spelled 
ruin without quotation marks that cereal advanced in the market 
more than sixty per cent., with results exerting widespread 
effects on the political and social condition and providing a tem 
porary tonic for general business. 

Here is an incident of just how striking was the reversal: A 
farmer out on the high plains had planted his six hundred and 
forty acres to wheat for three years, in no season receiving a re 
turn that paid for his labor and seed. With credit exhausted and 
seeking some means of existing through the winter, he made this 
proposition to a business man of the county seat: "If you will pay 
for the seed and for my labor in planting, I will harvest and 
market the crop and give you three-fourths of the receipts." 
That business man was a close figurer. He estimated that it 
would cost $2,500 to carry the undertaking and demanded four- 
fifths of the grain, and the deal was off. The local banker finally 
decided to stake his already heavily obligated customer once 
more. Nine months later, 15,500 bushels of high grade wheat 
from that section of land were delivered to the elevator; it brought 
$1.25 a bushel, a total of $19,375. Had the crop been held until 
midwinter it would have brought $25,000. The banker doubtless 
considers himself a true benefactor. 

This was typical of what happened all through the wheat belt, 
though not every incident was so colorful with profit. It is easy 
to see what it did for business creditors and for the banks which 
had carried the burden of unpaid notes. 

But came another ebb tide. Two years of crop failure, or 
near failure, more borrowing, more expansion of bank credit to the 
straining point, and then more banks failed. It was nothing that 
"farm relief" could have helped, nor was there bad management, 
unless too great faith in the recovery of the country can be so 

VOL. ccxxiv. NO, 835 15 


called. Lack of moisture at needed periods,hot winds, insufficient 
financial income, were factors that acted here as they have in the 
entire upland area, making slow the entire recovery from war time 

Bank failures are not sudden affairs ; barring of course a stroke 
of rascality. They arrive at the end of a long-drawn-out struggle 
with conditions. Day by day deposits are withdrawn by de 
positors who are either pressed to use their savings or are 
nervous concerning the bank's stability. Frantically the officers 
strive to collect on outstanding obligations; every debtor is ca 
joled or threatened in an effort to induce payment on his note. 
If the effort be unavailing, loans are known to be "frozen" and 
the time comes when either the banking department orders the 
institution closed or the banker himself, weary of the stress, locks 
the door and pastes on the window a notice that the end has 

This procedure assumed for a time rapid motion in the Da- 
kotas, Western Nebraska, Western Kansas and Oklahoma, 
leaving wreckage of closed country banks that startled the 
West's business world. Into the Northwest reached the helping 
hand of bankers and business men of New York, Chicago and 
other financial centers. The quality of their intention was not 
strained; the Agricultural Credit Corporation, through which 
operations were carried on, had subscriptions of $10,000,000 from 
438 subscribers, comprising the highest type of business men, all 
eager to assist through direct credit in the territory most afflicted. 
It could have expanded this sum to $100,000,000 through the War 
Finance Corporation had it been needed. The plan was to select 
the strong bank in a community and sustain its credit, usually 
with full publicity to insure confidence and prevent runs or 
withdrawals of deposits. The basic idea was to establish the 
normal functioning of business and restore its people to confident 
application to their usual pursuits. A curious outcome was the 
small aid actually demanded to put life and courage into down 
cast communities; only a little over $4,000,000 was used. It was 
placed in twelve banks in Minnesota, ninety-eight in North 
Dakota, sixty -one in South Dakota, twenty-five in Montana and 
nine in outside States. The Corporation also assisted many 


farmers directly, relieving them of excessive interest charges on 
past due taxes and otherwise strengthening their position. Find 
ing itself with funds remaining for helpfulness, the Corporation 
entered on the work of aiding producers in diversified farming, 
particularly by distributing live stock. Over 32,000 ewes, pur 
chased mostly in Montana, were shipped to North Dakota prin 
cipally, with some to South Dakota, Minnesota and Wisconsin, 
an average of fifty to a farm. The farmers were given three years 
in which to pay for them at the rate of thirty per cent, the first 
year, thirty per cent, the second, and forty per cent, the third. 
Interest was charged at six per cent. Over 3,000 dairy cows also 
were placed on farms, with long time, easy payment contracts. 

It is recognized that no one device of this kind will cover for all 
time the difficulties of the farmer, any more than any single device 
can be invented to remove all difficulties in the operation of any 
other line of business. However, in view of the restoration of 
confidence at the beginning and the fine helpfulness in establish 
ing a sounder agricultural practice later, the movement has amply 
justified its existence. It strengthened the entire Northwest di 
rectly, while indirectly laying a foundation for the future. 

W. M. Jardine, Secretary of the Department of Agriculture, 
with Western frankness and inspired by practical experience in 
solving rural financial problems, voiced thus a disapproval of 
theories proposing to bring economic paradise by law: 

No one takes issue with the thought that Congress can and should help smooth 
the way for fanners, as well as for any other group. But too few persons stop 
to consider that legislation cannot accomplish everything. There is not a 
veritable pot of gold at the end of the legislative rainbow. There is no magic 
power in legislation as a panacea for agricultural difficulties. Laws and public 
agencies can help farmers make the most of their opportunities. They can 
help farmers who help themselves. But legislation must be sound and must 
not contain the germ of more ultimate harm than positive good. 

Into this readjustment of the prairie country entered another 
factor, the War Finance Corporation. From its inception in 
August, 1921, it loaned to the Dakotas, Nebraska, Kansas and 
Oklahoma for agricultural and livestock purposes $60,415,000. 
When it turned over its affairs on December 1, 1924, to the Inter 
mediate Credit Banks, after four years of notably effective service, 


$47,957,000 had been repaid, a considerable portion out of the 
1924 harvests. It is not difficult to see where went much of the 
income of the season. Liquidation of heaped up debts called for 
a percentage that in many instances absorbed the entire profits 
and left yet to be solved the carrying on of the future operations. 

These readjustments were individual. In an entirely different 
category is the untangling of the bankers' own plans to improve 
on economic law through the guaranty of deposits by assessments 
levied on solvent banks to meet the deficit of those forced to close. 
In prosperous times, when bank failures were rare, it seemed a 
marvelous invention, certain to revolutionize the banking field. 
In the stress of circumstances has come another phase and settle 
ment time brought strenuous tasks in readjustment, due to the 
vast volume of claims from depositors in closed banks and the in 
ability of solvent institutions to meet assessments for their liqui 

Kansas, for instance, adopted its guaranty law in 1909. For 
ten years there were but two or three small failures, and the losses 
were easily covered. Then came a series of years in which over 
one hundred banks failed, and by the beginning of 1927 there 
were unpaid claims of depositors amounting to over $5,000,000 
with assets in the fund of less than $1,000,000. Of the 630 banks 
that had originally voluntarily entered the guaranty fund, less 
than one hundred remained and the maximum assessments pos 
sible under the law would not pay off the deficit in a full century, 
provided these continued as members. The guaranty provision 
did not attract deposits materially, but it is claimed by bankers 
that it did encourage inefficient and reckless banking, because the 
poorly managed bank was, theoretically at least, on a par with the 
sound bank in its assurance of safety. 

Oklahoma, finding that it had some $10,000,000 of guaranteed 
claims unpaid, with little possibility of their ever being met, and 
State banks nationalizing rapidly to avoid assessments, has re 
pealed its guaranty law and wiped the slate clean of old obliga 
tions. In South Dakota it is estimated that when all possible 
assets of failed banks have been collected, a deficit of some 
$15,000,000 will remain to be paid by assessments on 430 remain 
ing State banks. How this will be adjusted is not yet deter- 


mined. The Legislature faced the problem with two principal 
alternatives : repeal of the guaranty law, or issuance of State bonds 
to meet the deficit. A similar condition exists in North Dakota, 
where over $7,000,000 in claims are pending. Nebraska, the 
other Prairie State adopting the bank guaranty, has assessed its 
State banks $14,000,000 in the last eight years and has paid off 
depositors of failed banks whose losses totaled nearly twice that 
sum, the remainder being paid from the assets of suspended in 
stitutions. Texas early in 1927 repealed its guaranty law, under 
which $20,000,000 had been paid by solvent banks to depositors 
in suspended institutions. 

Other factors in the rural financial structure demanded atten 
tion. Politicians, imbued with a desire to "do something for the 
people", whether or not it had intrinsic merit, evolved intricate 
schemes for expanding credit and for taking over business affairs 
by the State. Some of these seemed logical; in others their utter 
weakness was evident. Apparently legislators, usually unfamiliar 
with extensive business management, and influenced by reports 
of alleged "demands" from their constituents, were willing to try 
anything once; and generally they did. 

For instance, the farm mortgage. Loaning money on real 
estate is not a complicated proceeding, but when the operation is 
placed in the hands of political appointees it often becomes en 
snared with a desire to please the voter, a tendency that does not 
inure to the safeguarding of funds. One group of States has con 
fined its disposition of farm loans to investment of school funds 
obtained through sale of lands segregated in homestead days for 
the benefit of the educational institutions of the commonwealth. 

But some States were not satisfied with the Federal and private 
supplies of loan funds; they wanted to enter the mortgage loan 
field themselves. According to the census of 1920, the farms of 
Oklahoma, Kansas, Nebraska and the Dakotas were mortgaged 
for $1,450,000,000, a figure increased since. The leading life 
insurance companies hold in these States approximately $350,- 
000,000 in loans. The Federal Land Banks and the Joint Stock 
Land Banks had loaned in the same area to November 30, 1926, 
$283,114,850, a part of which had been repaid through amortiza 
tion. It would seem that these sources, together with the loans 


by banks and private investors, would furnish abundant capital 
for the producer. South Dakota, however, added a rural loan 
system of its own, making, in the five years preceding January 1, 
1925, when operations stopped, 12,800 farm loans for $48,500,000, 
and selling State bonds to furnish funds therefor. When after a 
legislative investigation the system came to an end, one-third of 
the loans were in default, and the State has on its hands hundreds 
of farms of which it must in some manner dispose. How great 
will be the cost to the State can be determined only after the 
tangled loan affairs are adjusted. North Dakota under the Non- 
Partisan League regime entered on a farm loan experiment and 
placed some $10,000,000. 

Frequently State-fathered loans are of such proportions in 
relation to the actual value of the land as would not be accepted 
by an insurance company nor by a private investor; in such case 
losses have been greater than should normally have occurred and 
borrowers have undertaken obligations that strict business ethics 
would have forbidden. Most of the farm loans now coming due 
were made when land values were at their peak. Of necessity a 
time must come for a survey of actual conditions. Gradually 
this is being undertaken and obligations are being readjusted to 
the value of the security. It means losses to holders of second 
mortgages and to some with first liens, but it is the only method 
by which ultimate stability can be secured. 

When we add to these tasks the disposing of State cement 
plants, State coal mining undertakings, State flour mills, State 
hail insurance, and similar efforts, all proving costly experiments 
and which hi some manner must be rehabilitated, it is evident, that 
intelligent planning is demanded in all these commonwealths 
where the vision of State business procedure was most pronounced. 

Turning to the area of earlier settlement and longer established 
development is another story. States like Iowa and Missouri 
entertained no dreams of salvation through public ownership of 
industries; they suffered no series of extensive crop failures, 
droughts or devastation. They were afflicted only moderately 
by the promoters of hot air agriculture and cure-alls based on the 
theory that producers can be made rich by law. For fifty years 
the farms had been yielding steadily; land values had climbed 


until $200 or $300 an acre was not unusual. During the war 
period these figures went to $500 and $600 an acre, a value on 
which, when price deflation came, no possible production could 
return adequate income. Speculation in real estate pushed up 
the market, even when it was apparent that the buyer could never 
make final payment on the huge debt assumed. Theoretically, 
this area should have come out of the profit-making war time 
richer and solider than ever; actually it was burdened with debt, 
banks were carrying huge rediscounts, the financial structure was 
heavy with obligations, and no extensive wheat fields existed as a 
source of sudden relief. The livestock industry, corn and minor 
crops were the dependence, and no spectacular resuscitation can 
come from products which are marketed slowly. 

When "water" is squeezed out of land values, somebody must 
suffer loss, as in any other price change. Take one instance, as 
related by a mortgage dealer: An Iowa farm of one hundred 
acres sold for $360 an acre back in 1921 $36,000. The buyer 
paid down $6,000; gave a mortgage for $24,000, and borrowed of 
a local bank on second mortgage $6,000. He expected, of course, 
to re-sell at a profit. The bank believed he would be able so to 
do; his personal character was good, hence the second loan. The 
former owner went to Nebraska, where he bought a new farm, 
for which he paid with the mortgage on his Iowa land. The 
farmer from whom he bought moved down into Kansas and pur 
chased a farmstead, passing on that Iowa security as a reliable 
tender eventually to be redeemed in cash. But the chain of pay 
ments was interrupted ; the Iowa buyer could not meet his obliga 
tions and his affairs were in default. By that time the Iowa land 
had so depreciated in value that it was worth about the amount 
of the first mortgage. The owner had lost his own investment; 
the bank with a $6,000 claim and the first mortgage of $24,000 
remained. The bank to save its $6,000 proposed to the Kansas 
man, who had acquired the first mortgage through the various 
exchanges, that it would give him $21,000 and take its chances 
on selling the farm and eventually meeting its own claim. He 
accepted, thankful to obtain real payment for his Kansas land 
even at $3,000 less than he had expected. Here was a shortage 
of $9,000 who lost? The first buyer lost $6,000; the bank has 


an investment of $27,000 and its fate is yet to be determined, but 
it has that sum tied up in slow-selling real estate when it should 
be liquid for the accommodation of its customers. 

What happened to the Iowa bank was the fortune of many 
banks in Missouri, Iowa, Minnesota and the eastern third of 
Nebraska and Kansas. They were old established institutions. 
Because they were located in the West's most stable farm country 
their financial stability was considered beyond question. Yet 
in 1926 fifty-seven banks of Missouri closed their doors; Iowa 
had one hundred and fifteen bank suspensions; Kansas had 
forty -three; Nebraska had fifteen. 

Whatever the superficial cause, back of this stress was the un 
disputed fact that in all this area recovery was a more difficult 
task than was usually believed. Neither the weakness nor the 
recovery has been as spectacular as in sections where less capital 
was involved per capita, where land speculation was less extrava 
gant, and where credit conditions could be resuscitated by a 
bumper crop. It is, however, notable that these more staid 
Commonwealths are little inclined to venture into business fields. 
You do not find in Iowa or Missouri State cement plants, State 
flour mills, State insurance, or other Socialistic experiments by 
which visionary political financiers seek to curb what they declare 
is the ambition of the "money power" to enslave the public. 
The States that kept out of business have on the whole the simpler 
problem in returning to normalcy; that is, they have less over 
charge of community complications incurred in unprofitable 
undertakings. For them it is more distinctly an individual re 

For three years there has been an insistent demand from the 
citizenry that taxes be reduced. Candidates have ridden into 
power on promises of lessened cost of government. Once in 
office, they discovered that unless the activities of the State were 
curtailed and various boards, commissions and welfare under 
takings, presumably desired by the public, were abandoned, no 
reduction was possible. The Federal Government found a way 
to reduce expense; it announces each year marked lowering of its 
Budget. But in municipalities, counties and States in the sec 
tion where the cry of over-taxation was loudest, appropriations 


continued to mount. Merrily were voted more bonds for im 
provements to make life pleasanter, but which nevertheless called 
for heavier taxes. 

Logically two courses were open: To eliminate some activities 
of the State, or to rearrange methods of payment. The former is 
faced by the increasing attendance at State universities and 
colleges, calling for more teachers and more buildings; and an 
increased penal population, marked all through the rural area as 
well as in the cities. Growing and aging population alsp demands 
greater accommodations in eleemosynary institutions. All these 
mean larger appropriations. Whatever the intention of legisla 
tors and executive officers, the bills must be paid. The rising 
stream of automobiles means demand for hard surfaced roads, 
and these cost money. Where, ask the State and county officials, 
are we to stop? 

One direction in which lies relief is in better tax methods and 
appreciation of the relation of property to the community. Rap 
idly expanding are the public utilities, for two decades a target of 
radical politicians and of legislation that hampered investment. 
The West was served by hundreds of individual power plants, 
furnishing current to limited localities at a high cost, either 
charged into the expenses of a city when municipal plants, or 
devouring the investment of private capital. Consolidation into 
great systems, each serving fifty to two hundred towns and 
villages, has minimized expense. So extensive have these be 
come that current can be hooked up from Minneapolis to Ken 
tucky and from Chicago to Houston, Texas. The local tele 
phone line, the local gas company, have taken the same course. 
Their operations are on a firmer business basis because of the saner 
legislation arriving as the voter has become an investor and the 
legislator has realized the advantage of encouraging united opera 
tion rather than limiting development through restrictive laws. 

In the matter of property tax, the early idea of new States 
seems to have been to make the investor pay and pay and pay. 
Intangible property, such as notes, real estate mortgages, cash in 
bank and similar assets were to be assessed at full value. The 
farmer was to be taxed on his land for its assessed worth, then 
the mortgage was to be taxed for its face. Utilities were loaded 


with fees and taxes with no realization that the consumer in the 
end meets the charge. As a result tax evasion was common. 
Every investor concealed his holdings when possible or bought 
tax exempt securities, and the valuation on which to base levies 
lessened. Now is an awakening. Kansas, for instance, after 
sixty years of unfair taxation methods, the outgrowth of exuber 
ant political ramping on the "money power", has completely 
reversed its position and sought to keep home money at home 
instead of sending it out of the State to buy foreign bonds, stock 
in distant enterprises, and Federal tax free issues. It has elimi 
nated the tax on real estate mortgages, substituting a small re 
cording fee; it made a specific tax on money and intangible prop 
erty, including municipal bonds, of about one-tenth the average 
levy, thus encouraging honesty in assessment and sounder financial 
procedure. This is but an example of the changing attitude 
toward business and its relations to the prosperity of the whole 

How rapidly can complete rehabilitation of farm country 
affairs be accomplished? How much yet remains to be done? 
It is recognized by students of finance that savings must of 
necessity be used first in liquidation of obligations ; only after that 
can come expenditure. Eventually this process will accomplish 
its end the establishment of sound credit and resumption 
of normal conditions. 

In the mean while the business at hand is to readjust individual 
and community finances to economic stability. To this end 
bankers have stood firm for cautious limitation of credit; mort 
gage companies have scrutinized closely applications for loans; 
State administrations are lessening the cost of government, where 
possible, in response to the taxpayers' demands. 

The method by which the rural business world is coming into 
its own is not that of the enthusiastic "figurer" but is inspired by 
hard-headed, intelligent planning of men of affairs, awake to the 
necessity of sane revision of unworkable schemes, cautious in 
extension of credit, and with devotion to economy with every 
possible guard against reaction. The process may be less spec 
tacular than amateur economists outline, but it has the merit of 
securing definite and reasonably permanent progress. 



United States Senator from Louisiana 

THE improvement of navigable inland waterways is a duty im 
posed upon the American Congress, and the people are entitled to 
the manifold benefits of cheap water transportation. Inland 
waterways include bayous, creeks, rivers, shallow canals, and 
lakes, especially the five Great Lakes on or near our northern 
border. Coastal or oceanic waters include deep sea canals, 
sounds, bays, gulfs, seas and oceans. The policy of Congress in 
improving our coastal waters has been very liberal, but its treat 
ment of inland waters, exclusive of the Great Lakes, has been the 
reverse. Harbors on coastal waters are railroad terminals where 
cars and ships exchange freight, and they are essential parts of our 
railroad systems. Inland waters compete with railroads in 
carrying freight, and there is always more or less rivalry between 
these two agencies of transportation. 

The World War demonstrated how impossible it was for rail 
roads fully to serve the Nation's needs, and but for the general 
use of hard-surfaced highways which had recently been developed, 
there would have been much congestion and suffering. From that 
time, public sentiment has gradually grown in favor of waterway 
development, which has gained momentum from year to year, 
until now we stand on the threshold of a new era in water trans 

The Creator of the universe made waterways for the use and 
benefit of man, whereas highways and railways are the creations 
of the latter's labor and inventive genius. Waterways, both in 
land and oceanic, were in general use for thousands of years prior 
to the advent of the railroad. Highways are much more ancient 
than railroads, but the first road was built by man ages after God 
created the world, dividing it into land and water. In the earliest 
civilizations of Babylon, Egypt, Greece and Rome, there were un- 


doubtedly many fine roads, some of which still exist, but the 
general development of good highways is comparatively recent. 

In discussing transportation and its trinity road, rail, river 
I do not wish to be understood as overlooking the possibilities of 
air transport for freight and passengers. No doubt the near 
future will see a great development of this service which has al 
ready assumed considerable proportions. 

The movement of freight on water, a fluid which offers little 
resistance to boats, as compared with the great friction on high 
ways and the lesser but considerable friction over steel rails, 
makes water transportation much cheaper than either highway 
or railway. Suppose a ton of freight is to be shipped and a dollar 
spent in shipping it. How far will the dollar carry the ton by 
these different methods ? By horse and wagon, a little over four 
miles; by truck, twenty miles; at the average rate for American 
railways, 133 miles; at the rate on a group of selected railways, 
200 miles; on the Erie Canal, 333 miles; on European canals, 500 
miles; by lake, at the average rate through the "Soo" Canal in 
1913, 1,500 miles; while at the rate at which coal is carried both on 
the Great Lakes and on the Ohio and the Mississippi Rivers, the 
ton of freight can be shipped thirty miles for a cent, 300 miles for a 
dime, and 3,000 miles for a dollar. 

A striking, concrete illustration of the cheapness of water 
transportation is found in the commerce handled on the St. 
Mary's River. According to the official report of the United 
States Engineer Corps for 1925, a little over 81,000,000 tons of 
freight were carried through the Sault Ste. Marie Canals, Cana 
dian and American, and connecting waters, an average distance of 
800.9 miles, at an average cost of 1.08 mills a ton-mile, and a total 
freight charge was paid of $71,000,000. This freight rate was 
about one-ninth of the average railroad rate on all the railroads of 
the country. It is fair to assume that the railroad rate in the vi 
cinity of the Great Lakes was about one-half the average railroad 
rate for the Nation at large, or four and one-half times the water 
rate. If we multiply $71,000,000 by four and a half, it gives $319,- 
000,000, which would have been paid as freight on that commerce 
in 1925, had it been carried by the railroads, instead of $71,000,000 
which was actually paid for its conveyance by boats. This was a 


saving in that one year in reduced freight of $246,000,000, and the 
total sum spent on improving the river was only $31,300,000. 

Another remarkable example of cheap water transportation is 
the Monongahela River, which handled 21,882,000 tons of com 
merce in 1924, of which 21,380,000 tons were coal, the remainder 
being other commodities. It cost fourteen cents a ton to carry 
coal on the river from the mines to Pittsburgh. That year it cost 
eighty-eight cents a ton to convey the same coal to Pittsburgh by 
rail, or a saving of sixty-eight cents a ton by water. In other 
words, if the 21,380,000 tons of coal carried on the river in 1924 
are multiplied by this difference of sixty-eight cents in favor of the 
water rate, it demonstrates that the saving to the American people, 
the stockholders who own this waterway, was over $14,000,000. 
And yet, the total expenditure to date by the Federal Government 
on the Monongahela River aggregates only $10,883,000. 

It is hard to conceive the possibilities of freight movement on 
the Mississippi River and its tributaries, until the parent stream 
and its big affluents (the Red, the Arkansas, the Yazoo, the 
Missouri, the Upper Mississippi, the Illinois, the Ohio, the Cum 
berland, the Tennessee, together with many others aggregating 
more than 9,000 miles of potential navigable waters) have been 
fully improved. In their incompleted state, more than 50,000,- 
000 tons of commerce were carried on the streams of the Missis 
sippi Valley in 1925, with a resultant saving in transportation 
costs of $18,000,000. General Edgar Jadwin, Chief of the 
United States Engineers, estimates that the total amount ex 
pended on these waters since the earliest times is about $300,000,- 
000, and that even in their unfinished state they are earning at 
least six per cent, a year on this sum in reduced freight rates. It 
is no flight of fancy to predict that when this entire system is im 
proved at an additional cost of $50,000,000 to $100,000,000 its 
annual commerce will be at least four times as great, with a pro 
portional saving in freight costs. 

It is impossible for transportation on the Mississippi to make a 
proper showing now, because the feeders of the main stream, like 
the Ohio and its tributaries, the Illinois, the Upper Mississippi, 
the Missouri, the Arkansas, the Yazoo, the Red, etc., are in such 
an unimproved condition, with many shallow sections which pre- 


vent the free passage of boats. If an important standard railway 
system were broken into segments, with intermediate stretches of 
narrow gauge tracks at points between Chicago and St. Louis, 
Kansas City and New Orleans, Pittsburgh and Louisville, it 
would make a very poor showing. And yet the Mississippi sys 
tem today is broken into just such segments. 

Inland waterways cannot perform their full service until they 
are joined together in one continuous system, permitting the pas 
sage of boats from one section to another, just as cars on standard 
gauge railroads move from line to line through the entire country. 
If the rivers of the Mississippi Valley were joined with the Great 
Lakes by a nine-foot canal through the Illinois and Des Plaines 
Rivers, it would permit the free interchange of commerce 
of those two great but now totally disconnected water sys 
tems, to pass from one to the other at will. Such a canal would 
not only connect the Great Lakes with the Mississippi Valley, but 
the entire Atlantic intracoastal waterway system would also be 
joined to them through the Erie Canal. 

The Great Lakes constitute the largest system of inland water 
way transportation in the world. Their depths bear ships of 
ocean size. They have developed a vast fleet whose traffic is 
over twenty-three per cent, of the ton miles of all our railways. 
They are connected with the sea by the twelve-foot Erie and the 
fourteen-foot St. Lawrence canals. Ocean vessels cannot move 
through these depths. In order that the Great Lakes may fully 
benefit the American people, they must be connected with the 
ocean by a canal at least twenty-five feet, preferably thirty feet, 
in depth. This is one of the most important waterway problems 
before the country. 

The improvement of the Ohio River is rapidly nearing comple 
tion, and within three or four years there will be continuous year 
round navigation, except when closed by ice, from Pittsburgh to 
the mouth of the river at Cairo a thousand miles of a great 
river running from the East to the West, through the very heart 
of the Nation, penetrating many of its richest mining, agricultural 
and manufacturing sections. 

The transportation interests of the country are so important to 
the national welfare and play so large a part in the daily life of 


every citizen, that it is imperative to improve and use every pos 
sible agency. There is business enough for all three, and each 
should be a complement and helper to the other two. There 
should be no rivalry among them, but a spirit of cooperation by 
all three systems, to the end that transportation be speedy, 
effective and cheap. 

It is an old saying that "new transportation facilities create 
business". That is well proved by our new highways. At one 
time in our history we practically abandoned highways and water 
ways for railways. The invention of the gas engine restored our 
highways and multiplied their traffic ten thousand fold. Yet the 
total volume of passengers and goods on our railways has never 
been so great as now. In the same way, with greater depths and 
improvements in crafts, it is possible fully to restore our waterways. 
Nor will this jeopardize the prosperity of railways, as some pre 
dict. Among the most prosperous railroads in the country are 
those paralleling the Great Lakes, such as the New York Central; 
and the New York, New Haven and Hartford, which parallels 
Long Island Sound. 

It should be borne in mind that little attention has been paid to 
the development of boats and water craft for inland waterways, 
comparatively speaking, and shallow draft boats are not very 
superior to those of many years ago. On the other hand, railroad 
engines, cars, road beds and equipment of every kind have been 
marvellously improved within the past twenty-five years, and the 
same is true of highway construction and equipment. The auto 
mobile and motor truck of the present day are incomparably 
superior to road vehicles in use twenty-five years ago. If our 
inland waterways are properly improved and their use encour 
aged, water craft of every kind will keep pace. There is every 
reason to believe that a vast commerce can be carried in improved 
boats drawing not over three to five feet, and when this is 
done, many of our water courses not now in use would be 

Although greatly handicapped, water carriage is the cheapest of 
all forms of transportation for many kinds of goods. Generally 
speaking, if there be a return load, 1,000 bushels of wheat can be 
transported 1,000 miles on the Great Lakes or on the sea for $20 


to $30; on a modern-equipped Mississippi barge for $60 to $70, 
and by rail, for $150 to $200. 

The price of wheat is made at Liverpool, and anything saved 
in transport to Liverpool is in the long run so much in addition to 
the farmer's price. It is not an addition solely to the actual 
goods which he may have shipped to that market, but it lifts the 
price level in our domestic market on the whole commodity in the 
same ratio. Thus, if from five to seven cents a bushel additional 
can be saved by the completion of the Mississippi and Great 
Lakes systems, it will add a substantial amount to the income of 
every farmer in the valley. 

Water traffic is peculiarly adapted to the dominant agricultural 
products of the Mississippi Valley, hay, corn, wheat, oats, cotton, 
rice and sugar. Every cent saved in transportation to market is 
an addition to the income of the farmer and an assurance that he 
can maintain higher standards of living than his foreign competi 
tors. If so, he will become a better citizen, a much larger con 
sumer of the products of manufacture, industry, merchandizing, 
and every kind of business enterprize; hence all our people are 
interested in the success of agriculture. 

One of the reasons which should impel us vigorously to under 
take the completion of our inland waterways, is the necessity to 
provide more transportation facilities for the future of the coun 
try as a whole. Already our great railway gateways and termi 
nals are showing signs of congestion. Traffic in twenty -five years 
has grown from 114,000,000 ton miles to 338,000,000 ton miles; 
it has nearly tripled. It is obvious that better and more facilities 
must be provided and that rapidly, if we are to care for the in 
creased population of 40,000,000 more souls within the next 
quarter of a century. If we expect railroads alone to perform 
this service, the cost of additions to them would be several times 
as great as that of thoroughly improving the waterways and mak 
ing them available in a most effective way for carrying this in 
creased freight at rates much cheaper than by rail. Transporta 
tion facilities of the near future imperatively demand the 
improvement and use of all of our inland waterways that are 
susceptible thereof. 



Secretary of the New York Society for the Suppression of Vice 

ON February 24, 1794, Judge William Gushing, writing from 
Philadelphia to a friend in Boston, said: 

As to the theatre, I stand pretty indifferent, and would as soon read a good 
play as see it acted, abating the pleasure of having good company around 
me. . . The theatre would be well enough if confined within the bounds of 
morality and decency, and not made an engine of party. 

In 1794 theatrical entertainments were an infant industry and, 
in Boston, were spoken of as "this new species of exhibition", but 
in the intervening one hundred and thirty-three years all this has 
changed. Now, the public stage is a firmly established enterprize 
but, unfortunately, commercialized to an extent which seems to 
preclude the possibility of its ever assuming its rightful status as 
a branch of pure art. 

How has the stage kept faith with the public? 

A few weeks ago, William Lyon Phelps, of Yale University, was 
quoted as saying that there were only three plays running in New 
York which were unobjectionable from the standpoint of public 
morals. Sixty -five "attractions" were then on the boards. 

The Catholic Theatre Movement, in its Bulletin for January, 
1927, found only eighteen plays which it could commend to 
people of the Catholic faith, and several of these were screen plays. 

On March 21, the Rev. Harry Emerson Fosdick characterized 
the theatre in New York as "a rotten mess". 

According to The Vigilant of March, 1927, a theatre publica 

In Congress recently Representative Wilson of Mississippi in an appeal for 
Federal censorship said: "If conditions are not changed, sooner or later this 
country is going to be forced into Federal action to cleanse the public stage. " 

In an editorial article in the Theatre Magazine of January, 1927, 
Mr. Arthur Hornblow, Editor, said: "Meantime, the dirty plays 

VOL. ccxxiv NO. 835 16 


continue doing a land office business at the old stand. The 
other cities will have none of them, but New York takes them, 
foul as they are, to her bosom;" and much more. 

The unusual spectacle is presented of an agreement by the 
pulpit, the theatre and the laity that the New York stage and 
therefore the American stage is in a deplorable condition. 

Let us see what has led up to this situation. 

It is a fact that New York has become a distinctly cosmopolitan 
city and the Mecca for all those throughout the country who de 
sire to see something which they cannot see in their home towns. 
There have also crept into the business of theatrical production 
during recent years a group of persons who have prospered at the 
law, or in real estate, or cloaks and suits, or some other line en 
tirely apart from the stage, and these have brought with them 
ideas wholly commercial and a complete lack of any knowledge 
of art or the ethics of theatrical productions. 

In addition, whereas not long ago there were not more than a 
score of theatres in New York, there are now at least sixty-five of 
what are called legitimate theatres, with a new one being added 
every few months. It is a well known fact that there are never 
as many as sixty -five or even twenty -five meritorious plays on 
the market at any one time, but some income must be secured 
from the large capital investment in theatre property, and, as a 
consequence, more than half of the theatres have to be occupied 
by plays which have little or no merit. A stage performance 
without merit will not ordinarily last a week in New York and so, 
to offset lack of merit, it has become customary for stupid drama 
tists and mercenary producers to insert in their productions a 
"kick", a "punch" or a "wallop". 

A generation back such tactics would have been of no avail. 
If a stage production then had the reputation of being filthy and 
sordid, profane and blasphemous, the great bulk of the people 
kept away from it, and those that did go out of curiosity did not 
constitute a sufficiently large number to make such an exhibition 
pay. It must be, therefore, that the class who will patronize 
and tolerate vile stage performances has greatly increased within 
a comparatively brief space of time. The common statement 
today that the public is responsible for vulgar plays is very 


largely true, for if such plays were not supported financially by 
the theatre-going public, they could not endure. There is a 
joint responsibility for the display of nastiness upon the public 

The vile producer, who for filthy gain will sponsor such an 
exhibition regardless of social consequences, is to blame. 

The actor, who participates in lascivious drama and who 
utters foul words in public, lowering standards of common de 
cency and making a stench of what should be a temple of art, is 
to blame. 

The writer, who prostitutes his ability at the behest of some 
scabrous unprofessional producer, is to blame. 

Diffident and dilatory public officials, who close their eyes to 
such infamy, are to blame. 

That part of the public which pays handsomely for lewd and 
bawdy entertainment without regard to the power of example, 
is to blame. It is with this element, the public of low ideals, that 
we are interested. How did they get that way? What innova 
tion in the social development of the nation has created this type 
of moron? 

In Colonial days our forbears worked off their energies in 
physical toil. Thrills were few and far between. Perchance a 
ship arrived once a year with tidings and new settlers from the 
old country. Perchance one who ventured without the stockade 
was slain by prowling savages. A common scold might be ducked 
in the pond, or a sottish man placed in the stocks. Simple and 
direct thrills, were these, to a simple, hard-working temperate 
people. Those were days free from the thrill produced by scheme 
or artifice. Insanity was uncommon, and abnormality was an 
unknown word. 

Came the Revolutionary War, independence, a new National 
entity, trade, manufacture, mining, wealth, and the creation of a 
leisure class. The few books extant and commonly circulated 
had suggested an occupation for leisure hours. The demand for 
books increased. An American school of literature developed, 
clean, serious and informative. The thrill had not yet been 

The nation expanded. Territory was added by exploration, 


conquest and purchase. The Mexican War, the California gold 
rush, the slavery question, had their days of natural excitement, 
but during all this period, the bulk of the people were still engaged 
in a physical struggle with nature or in exhausting labor in the 
more settled communities. An important mechanical invention, 
the steam engine, with its application to land and water traffic, 
had come into being. There was a healthy, if somewhat smoky, 
thrill in seeing the first steamboat and the first steam locomotive 
at work. There was an appeal to the imagination as to the possi 
bilities of these time and labor saving devices; and yet the com 
mercialized thrill was a long way off. Even the telegraph, piously 
received as a wonder wrought by God, gave no inkling to a serious 
age of the orgy of artificial stimulation in which, later on, it 
would be one of the contributing agencies. 

No, the elements going to make up a situation congenial to the 
Thrill Addict have come upon us primarily within the past fifteen 
years. The Bible tells us: "In the sweat of thy face shalt thou 
eat bread." But the Bible is dreadfully old fashioned; and so is 
sweat. It is no longer a nice word, and so we avoid not only the 
word but the thing also. Every effort is put forth to produce a 
sweatless age. We speak proudly of labor saving devices. We 
make a fetish of the white collar. But are we, as a people, better 
off because of all those things which have done away with the 
incentive to personal effort? 

In the large cities the average home has been reduced to a few 
rooms in a crowded apartment house. The incandescent light, 
the gas range, the electric washing machine or the laundry, the 
vacuum cleaner, the dumb waiter and the much maligned janitor 
have reduced the working time of the average housewife to a 
minimum. The former average family of four or five children 
is a thing of the past. Now one or two children or none at all is 
the rule. There may possibly be one domestic animal to absorb 
the maternal instinct of the wife and to occupy a few moments of 
the husband's time at about eleven o'clock P.M. It is apparent 
that the woman of such environment has a problem in the nature 
of what to do with the many hours free from household responsi 

The latest national census showed for the first time a prepon- 


derance of urban dwellers, which means that young people are 
leaving the rural districts and swarming into the cities in increas 
ing numbers. They have been caught with the bait of short 
working hours and easy money, the glare and tinsel of urban life. 
They too find a surplus of unoccupied time as compared with the 
hours of toil required in agricultural pursuits. The city man is 
occupied, as a rule, not more than eight hours a day in the effort 
to support himself and his dependents. He has forgotten, almost, 
how to walk, being dependent for his movements on subways, 
trolleys, taxis or other vehicles. Various movement and labor 
saving devices tend to keep the collar white and the hands soft. 
There are the elevator, the telephone, the typewriting and adding 
machines, and the horde of youth in business, to attend to the 
minutiae. And youth discouraged from childhood, by kindly 
disposed but unwise mentors, from any personal effort or exertion. 

Some years ago a movement was started for closer relations 
between parent and child. They must be pals. There was an 
appeal in the suggestion because up to that time the child had 
been regarded largely as some sort of animated chattel to be seen 
and not heard and seen not too often. There was vast room for 
improvement in that relation, but unfortunately the reform was 
carried to extremes, with the result that the parent pal came to 
have just about as much authority over the child as the actual 
playtime pal. Parental influence went into the discard, and the 
admonitions of those parents who awoke to their responsibilities 
to their offspring and their obligations to Society, fell on deaf ears. 

Regarding school, if a child lives a few blocks from the building, 
he or she must be transported by trolley, bus or motor. Unruly 
children must be coddled instead of being wisely disciplined. 
Easy methods were sought and adopted, visual education intro 
duced, no home work, with resulting flaccid and uncertain mental 
development. Crowded classes in cities necessitated promotion 
of the pupil whether fit or unfit, and innumerable instances of 
gross ignorance on the part of applicants for college, for the bar 
or other important positions, tell the story. 

In the trades, the same coddling and discouragement of per 
sonal effort have occurred. Scales of wages applicable alike to the 
skilled and unskilled worker in the same line, maximum output 


of labor in a unit of time, protection from discharge for incom- 
petency, are some of the evils allied to the many good features of 
trade unionism. 

As previously stated, the trend has been toward a sweatless, or 
more politely phrased, an effortless, age. The result, lots of 
leisure and a lack of effort in every field except the field of easy 
money; and the natural consequences, a lower grade of mentality 
and of ability to arrive at correct conclusions. In an address at 
Yale University on March 26, 1927, Professor Bradley Stoughton, 
head of the Department of Metallurgical Engineering of Lehigh 
University, said: 

The question for us now is not whether science is offering the world larger 
opportunities for culture and the enjoyment of art and beauty than ever before 
(more leisure) but how the spirit of man is responding to its benefits not 
whether there is now a more widespread enjoyment of beauty and culture but 
whether the mental attitude of the majority of mankind is more spiritual and 
reverent, or more self-indulgent and material. 

For it is the attitude of mind that shows where the real interest is. And 
since we cannot see into the mind itself, what outward indications have we to 
show whether or not a mind is becoming less reverent and more engrossed in 
materialism? It seems to me that the outward symptoms manifest themselves 
in steps something like the following: flippancy, contempt for ideals, contempt 
for law, contempt for all authority, irreverence, license masquerading as 
freedom, pessimism, despondency, nervous affections, mental unbalance, 

Yea, verily, Professor; science has been very kind to humanity, 
if it can be called kindness to take away those things which in 
former generations tended to build up firmness and self-reliance 
in body, mind and spirit. Unfortunately science has given noth 
ing to take the place of that which it has taken away. Science 
has given leisure, but of what avail is leisure if ignorance of how 
to employ it usefully prevails? Science has created a mechanical 
world making for flabbiness in mind and body. Science has 
created easy methods of instruction, tending towards superfi 
ciality and lack of initiative. Science has created the herd and 
the herd is easily led. Science has fostered materialism, and the 
successful ones are exploiting the herd for the exploiters' material 

We are interested in the theatre. We are interested to know 


why the public stage has fallen to the level described in the quo 
tations previously cited. In The New York World of March 8, 
1927, appeared a headline: "Public Is Blamed for Vulgar Plays: 
Actors and Playwrights so Disclose at Brooklyn Chamber of 
Commerce Symposium: Would Arrest Audiences." From all 
that appears, the good people of the Brooklyn Chamber of 
Commerce, part of this same public, took the charges and the 
blame lying down. Probably it was too much of a mental effort 
for anyone present to defend the public and place the blame where 
it rightfully belongs. 

It does not take a very long memory to recollect the introduc 
tion into this country about twelve years ago of text books setting 
forth the so-called discoveries of one Sigmund Freud, relating to 
the dire consequences of repression of the sex instinct. It consti 
tuted a luscious repast for many of our youthful and dilettante 
writers. Apparently they had never before heard of the sex 
instinct or its proper place and control in organized society. To 
them, barren of original ideas, it was literary manna from heaven 
or at any rate from Vienna. These generous souls, disdaining 
to keep from the public the buncombe which they had acquired, 
tacitly agreed among themselves to popularize the Freudian ideas 
in works of fiction, considering of course the royalties therefrom. 
By the peculiar methods of log rolling existing among journalistic 
and literary people, these books were exploited out of all propor 
tion to their merits. The herd came to understand that lack of a 
bowing acquaintance with the subject of psychoanalysis was un 
pardonable, and this was particularly true among the adolescent 
college boys and girls of the land. 

Of course the theories of psychoanalysis as expounded by its 
leading American exponents are very different from those ex 
pounded by Freud and exploited by the mauve intelligentsia. 
There is more dirt in the Austrian brand, and dirt has a sort of 
fascination, a novelty, for those who have been reared in clean 
surroundings. And so the dirt in the psychoanalytical fiction 
fascinated the adolescent element and the superficial, and created 
a curiosity for more dirt, more assuagement of the thirst for 
knowledge of the newly excavated and exploited antique "isms". 
As the two dollar book of fiction was not accessible to all, the 


benevolent publishers of twenty cent magazines (with cash in 
view) in turn took up the pleasant and profitable task of supplying 
unclean literature to a larger public. These magazine publica 
tions, published serially, found that the demand for the original 
fare was waning, and so they had to increase the dose of "naked 
souls " and bodies as well. It went over with a bang. 

The specious pleas of art and beauty were resorted to, and, 
presto ! the art magazine, devoted of course to one genre, the nude 
female figure. We used to be satisfied with copies of the Venus 
de Milo, but the great hunger for the nude in art, automatically 
created, required new models, less embonpoint, more of the svelte, 
and so representations were multiplied of Bathtub Lily of the 
Shocks of 1926, or Gladys Bare of the Terrible Films, Inc. 
Corner newsstands blossomed forth, creating neighborhood dis 
plays of idealized photography and the most vivid examples of the 
nude by independent artists. Art in its most thrilling aspect 
was now being carried to the schoolboy and the schoolgirl, to the 
toddler on the sidewalk and the infant in arms. When sales 
started to fall off, the name of the magazine was changed, and 
when publishers were threatened with prosecution the magazines 
were published anonymously. It was a great day for art. From 
the advertisements appearing in this line of publications, it was 
revealed for the first time that art lovers were assumed to be 
particularly in need of such commodities as self -massaging belts, 
lotions for reducing thick lips, impossibly cheap jewelry, revolvers, 
sex secrets, marriage guides, pocket adding machines, and the like. 

During all this popular education in normal and abnormal sex 
activities and the secrets of anatomy, this whetting of the youth 
ful appetite for thrills and kicks and punches, there was the ever 
present motion picture, chastened, it is true, as compared with 
the good old days of untrammelled license, but still the medium 
of the thrill and the shock. In conversation some years ago, Dr. 
Max Schlapp, noted specialist in nervous ailments of children, 
made the statement that if he could have his way, no child under 
fifteen years of age would be permitted to see the ordinary motion 
picture "thriller", because of the harmful effect on the child's 
nervous system. 

The films have had their full share in creating artificially the 


steady demand from an appreciable part of the population for a 
thrill, or continuous thrills, in every reel. Mental Meals for 
Morons would correctly characterize much of the product of this 
industry. Lustful lunges at lachrymose ladies lured and locked 
in by leering libertines, prettily describes innumerable cinema 
scenes to whet the appetites and the ardors of the sex-awakened, 
the sex-hungry and the sex-starved; and to make the baby ask: 
"Mama, why does the man want to hurt the lady?" Yes, the 
movies have done much, entirely too much, to create and pander 
to the Thrill Addict. 

The leisure brought to humanity by science has been ill em 

The public is to blame for the existence of dirty shows. Of 
course it is; a part of the public. But who is to blame for that 
part of the public? Largely, the literary underworld. The 
tabloid press did not start this thing. It did not exist when the 
modern thrill addiction came into existence as a disheartening, 
unsocial disease, but it has shared powerfully in its development. 
We hear once in a while of the furtive rascal who loiters around 
the schools at the time of dismissal and sells narcotized candies 
to children. He represents the lowest, most degraded species of 
mankind. He knows that he is committing a criminal act and 
increasing a social evil. For a few pennies profit he is creating 
an abhorrent appetite in youth and a new market for the bigger 
scoundrels in his damnable trade. Under more respectable aus 
pices, the tabloid, with exceptions, is doing to the mind of the 
child just what the drug panderer on an infinitely smaller scale 
is doing to its body. It appeals to immature and subnormal 
mentalities and keeps them so. By lewd, criminal and gruesome 
pictures it illustrates graphically the news of lust and crime and 
brutality presented in words of one syllable. By exploitation and 
picturization of a despicable roue, a venal gold-digger, a yegg, a 
yellow murderer, or any other brand of crook, it impresses upon 
the undeveloped minds of its readers that these offscourings of 
humanity are people of some importance. It hires the partici 
pants in disgraceful scandals, murderers behind prison bars and 
other social refuse as special writers to exploit their devilish ac 
tivities over their own facsimile signatures in its columns. The 


intention is to thrill the reader, and in view of the lack of discern 
ment on the reader's part, the material used must be crude and 
inane to a degree. 

A scandal involving sex irregularities is rare meat for these 
journalistic scavengers. Day after day they feature the high 
spots of filthy disclosures. The dose of putrid pornography must 
be increased constantly to hold the interest of the herd. Each 
day the expectations of the moron mob must be kept alive and 
on edge by some such adjuration as the following: 

Watch the next edition of the for further sensational revelations in 

the trial of the suit. A corps of trained news gatherers and photog 
raphers are covering every detail of the absorbing testimony and pictures. 

One can fancy the editor and the "art" director of such a sheet 
engaging in mutual adulation and saying with one voice: "That 
means 100,000 new suckers!" 

The theatre is the residuary legatee of all of this artfully created 
thrill addiction, in so far as the addicts can pay the price. The 
audience for thrills and punches has been created, and the un 
ethical producer is quick to pander to the thrill appetite. If the 
stage were controlled by serious artists, it would never have 
fallen to the low estate of a common brothel, but unfortunately 
there are butter-and-egg men and those of other environment who 
see in the theatre nothing more than a money making industry, 
and money is the basis of production of any play, good or bad. 

The present situation is not of freak growth. Its development 
has been gradual and logical. It started about 1919, and there 
after for a few seasons the showing of filth on the stage was more 
or less spasmodic. Theatre premises were not so easily obtain 
able at first. There were not so many of them. Money in 
volume had not yet been attracted to the theatre from outside 
sources. But the soil was ripe for a harvest, the audience had 
been created, the tyro producer was appearing and was calling 
upon the dramatist for a thrill, a punch and a kick. The first 
offenders were people more or less known. There was the argu 
ment for realism and life in the raw. Blasphemy and profanity 
were introduced, timidly at first and then with increasing bold 
ness. The harlot appeared as the heroine of the show, and we 


were reminded of the Scriptural saying about casting the first 
stone. Lastly, degeneracy was featured, and we were warned 
that if pathological conditions were not broadcasted from Broad 
way, thousands, nay millions, would be engulfed in the quicksands 
of sexual depravity. Moreover, were not these purveyors of all 
things unclean giving the public what they wanted? Look at 
the box office sheets, look at the S. R. O. signs, look at the noble 
men and women of the stage who would never, never think of 
prostituting their God-given talents for any other purpose than 
the uplift of humanity. 

Well, six of these benevolent producers have been convicted of 
presenting immoral shows and have been sent to jail. Twenty- 
six male and female performers have been convicted of the same 
offense and have been warned by the court to go, and sin no more. 
The New York Legislature has enlarged the scope of the statute 
dealing with prohibited public shows, and has increased the pen 
alty for violations. The people who scoffed at the possibility of 
regulation have felt the policeman's club and have been spanked 
by the lawmakers. It is probable that a thoroughly scared if 
unpenitent theatre will purge its precincts. There will still be a 
kick, but it is more apt to be applied to the hobo producer than 
for the delectation of the Thrill Addict. That unfortunate 
species will still be with us in the effortless environment created 
by science. Let us hope that science will discover a narcosan 
for the cure of this form of addiction, since politicians refuse to 
adopt preventive measures to protect its victims. Probably as 
constructive a suggestion as any is that of Mr. Edward H. Sothern 
for the development in this country of the municipal theatre. A 
theatre which would present only high grade drama at a low 
price. A theatre which would cultivate a public taste for the 
best in dramatic art. A theatre which would make actors and 
actresses of whose ability the public might be proud and who, as 
only the actor has ever done, would elevate the tone of the Ameri 
can stage to the high level which an art, universally admired, 



IN the Niagara of detailed news that comes from China, under 
the sea and on the air, the bewildered reader is apt to lose sight of 
vital phases of the problem which directly concern the progress 
and prosperity of 400,000,000 people. Since the World War the 
saying that the relations of amity or unfriendliness between any 
two Nations are the very direct concern of all the others has been 
worn into a truism, yet never was there a more striking illustra 
tion of its truth than is furnished by a glance, however superficial, 
at the Chinese problem as presented today. How few cared for 
"Far-away Cathay " a generation ago? Today the turbulent Re 
public that has followed upon the long-lived Empire is our neighbor 
across the Pacific, which in turn has dwindled to a strip of water, 
not broader for practical purposes than was the English Channel 
or even the St. Lawrence River a hundred years ago. 

A few weeks ago it seemed that the situation in China, both as 
to its foreign and domestic aspects, could not become more com 
plicated. But later developments indicate that this comparative 
optimism was without foundation in fact. The Nationalist 
Party, after its successful drive from the South and its occupation 
of the Yangtze Ports, has split up into at least two factions, which 
in some localities have come to blows, while the foreign Powers, 
not united by the grievous wrongs which they have suffered in 
the persons of their nationals and consular representatives, are 
exchanging notes which even before publication indicate a re 
grettable lack of harmony. 

The troubles of the Western World in China, while many and 
various, are mainly economic and result from a failure to regulate 
with anything like fairness the colossal trade that has grown up. 
In stating the third of his Fourteen Points and in demanding it as 
a precedent to the world peace which he sought, President Wilson 
would seem to have been furnished with advance knowledge of 


the Chinese developments. His urgent plea for "the removal as 
far as possible of all economic barriers and the establishment of an 
equality of trade conditions among all the Nations consenting to 
the peace and associating themselves for its maintenance" goes 
to the heart of the problem and solves it, unless such a platform 
be found in the world of trade to savor of the "idealistic". 

When the Powers, with England at their head, nearly a hun 
dred years ago, deprived China of her tariff autonomy, it was cer 
tainly an infringement upon her independence. But there is 
extenuation in the fact that no one then, in China or elsewhere, 
had a realizing sense into what a mighty stream of trade and 
exchanges this petty huckstering business would grow. Twenty- 
seven years ago in this REVIEW, out of the turmoil of the Boxer 
Rebellion, the present writer submitted China's grievances to the 
American public in an article entitled What the Chinese Think of 
Us. Had not the war psychology prevailed to some extent, had 
we not been marching to the rescue of men and women in grave 
danger, the title could have truthfully been changed into What 
the Chinese Know of Us. 

Since that day there has been a marked improvement in the 
consideration shown by the West to the East. The change has 
come slowly, and it has not been as effective as could be wished. 
However, the West is not exclusively responsible for this dis 
appointing result. And so it has come about that we are today 
face to face with what may be called a mass explosion of millions 
of people, betrayed into extravagant acts by the forces of long 
pent-up indignation, a situation which it would seem no man, no 
Nation, can control or even direct. 

Roughly speaking, China's foreign trade amounts annually 
to two billion dollars. When the present machinery for carrying 
it on, against which the Chinese protest with so much justice, was 
established, this trade did not greatly exceed ten millions. When 
the first breach was made in the Canton wall, this bagatelle trade 
with the "red haired foreign devils" was a side issue into which 
four or five wealthy hong merchants were wheedled by rich pres 
ents and sometimes, as the contemporary documents reveal, by 
outrageous threats. But today the daily rice of millions of 
Chinese is dependent upon the maintenance and development of 


this trade, of which about twenty per cent, is in American hands, 
while approximately forty per cent, is controlled by Great Britain 
and her Dominions. Of recent years, frequently, more foreign 
ships have entered Shanghai in a week than entered Canton in a 
Chinese cycle, or a period of sixty years, at the time the treaties 
were made. Obviously, under these circumstances, a revision of 
trade methods and a new basis for political relations of a different 
kind are long overdue. 

While it is said with increasing frequency it cannot be said 
with justice that the Great Powers have turned a deaf ear to Chi 
na's demand for the revision of the unequal and one-sided treaties 
of which she has so long complained. As far back as 1902 Great 
Britain and Japan and the United States signed treaties with 
China in which they severally pledged themselves "to give every 
assistance to China's judicial reform", and they separately agreed 
that they would be "prepared to relinquish extraterritorial rights 
when satisfied that the state of the Chinese laws, the arrange 
ments for their administration and other considerations warrant 
so doing". In view of the increasing disorders that have char 
acterized Chinese life in the last decades it is regrettable, but not 
remarkable, that no advance has been made towards revision and 
modernization of relations. The Chinese brought before the 
Peace Conference in Paris their plea, but again, unfortunately, 
it was displaced by matters which seemed of greater urgency and 
more menacing to peace. In 1922, at the Washington Conference, 
the Powers at last recognized that the problem deserved careful 
consideration and a resolution was adopted establishing a Com 
mission upon which China and the Treaty Powers were repre 
sented. This Commission was instructed "to inquire into the 
present practice of extraterritorial jurisdiction in China and to 
assist further the efforts of the Chinese government to effect such 
legislation and judicial reform as would warrant the Powers in 
relinquishing, either progressively or otherwise, their respec 
tive rights of extraterritoriality". That this Commission has 
achieved little or nothing is not entirely the fault of the Powers 
represented upon it, though some might well have acted in a more 
helpful spirit. It is unfortunate that the Chinese should be most 
insistent on their undoubted rights at the precise moment when a 


transfer of jurisdiction involves grave danger to all interests con 
cerned, including those of China. 

We as a people are strongly inclined to maintain that the high 
handed proceedings, viewed in the light of the morality of the day, 
by which China was opened to trade were carried out without the 
cooperation of America. But we must admit that we profited by 
these proceedings and in a measure imitated them when we set 
about the opening of Japan and Korea. The mother treaty with 
China, that with England, so frequently denounced, was written 
in 1842 on board the old line-of -battle ship Cornwallis, lying off 
Nanking, whose beauties had not yet been destroyed by the 
Taiping rebels. Perhaps it was on this occasion that the Pan 
dora's box of Chinese troubles was first opened, as is frequently 
assumed. Nevertheless it is a fact that the doctrine of consular 
jurisdiction over nationals was first introduced into the relations 
of the West with China by Article 21 of the American Treaty 
signed and sealed two years later. 

If this was a high handed proceeding on our part, and on the 
part of those wicked and doubtless more sophisticated people who 
egged us on, it certainly was not an innovation, nor did it meet 
with anything like the opposition that one would expect; prob 
ably because the Chinese had no more idea than we and the other 
foreigners had, how the foreign trade would expand or how the 
four little Treaty Ports would expand into a hundred, with a 
population running into the millions. As a matter of fact, the 
trade settlement and the paternal authority of the consul, or some 
other Number-One man, were not inventions of the ingenious 
"foreign devil". They were and had been for centuries the 
practices of the trading nations throughout Asia and were merely 
adapted to the necessities of the situation. Incidentally it should 
be added that the provocation under which we insisted upon this 
arrangement was a very flagrant one. I first went to China fifty 
years after this outrage had taken place, and yet I have known 
Americans who still blushed as the memory of it came back to 
them. An American sailor, who at the worst had been guilty of 
involuntary manslaughter, killing a bum-boat woman by care 
lessly dropping overboard a block of tackle, was unwisely handed 
over to the Chinese authorities, who promised a fair trial. But 


he was put to death without a trial of any kind and with the tor 
ture of slow strangulation. 

To the undoubted credit side of the ledger can and should be 
placed the fact that if the ancient kingdom of the Great Khan 
still stands today as an administrative entity, disfigured and with 
many extremities gnawed off and yet not wiped out of geographi 
cal existence, it is due to the ability of John Hay, aided by that 
great Chinese, Li Hung-chang, who were, it must also be admitted, 
not a little assisted in their task by the fact that the then pre 
datory Powers could not agree upon the proper allocation of those 
tenderloin bits, the Yangtze Provinces. 

The picture drawn of the foreign concessions and the Treaty 
Ports in the literature of the Revolution is a matter of amazement 
to one who calls himself an "old-China hand". One is told to 
believe that the outrageous "foreign devils " came sailing over the 
seas and, levelling double-shotted guns, picked out the Chinese 
cities with the most marvellous porcelain pagodas, and calmly 
took possession. Now, as a matter of fact the present site of the 
world city of Shanghai was a shaking swamp when it was "con 
ceded", and Hong Kong was a barren, uninhabited island where 
the foreign-hating Commissioner Lin was very glad to have the 
English traders careen their vessels and so stop cluttering up the 
river approaches to Canton. 

Of course by their tireless industry the Chinese have largely 
contributed to the development of these great marts, and it is 
true that they have not always been treated as they should have 
been. But there must be a saving grace in the way the common 
law of traders has been administered, for these new municipal 
creations have grown as fast and prospered as mightily as have any 
of the boom cities of the West. Had all the Chinese who sought 
admission to Shanghai been passed, the city today would have 
a larger population than London, New York and Paris combined. 
In these reckless pamphlets also the fact is entirely lost sight of 
that in dark days the treaty Ports have served as sanctuary 
for hard-pressed revolutionists. Here Sun Yat-sen, the dead 
leader of the Nationalists, found refuge and so escaped the terrible 
punishment of the "thousand slices" which the Empress Dow 
ager in an unamiable moment had decreed. Here, each in his 


turn, Mr. Wellington Koo, the able Foreign Minister of the 
North, and Mr. Chen, the spokesman of the South on foreign 
relations, have found refuge from their uncomprehending fellow 
countrymen. That they have been preserved to play the im 
portant roles which a new China will assign them is due entirely 
to the much maligned institutions of the foreigner. 

Perhaps with justice the dethroned Manchus of today might 
denounce these outposts of freedom along the shores of the Yellow 
Sea, for here their overthrow was planned, here the printing 
presses worked day and night, from here came the literary 
dynamite which aroused a sleeping people, and here was based the 
movement that overthrew the monarchy and established the 
Republic. But not even the Manchus can regard these little 
preserves of democratic institutions as "dens of iniquity", for 
today the head of the Manchu Clan, the Boy Emperor, so-called, 
has escaped from the turmoil of Peking and taken refuge in the 
foreign settlement of Tientsin. It is a noisy place, no sane 
person would select it as a haven of rest, and yet the Boy 
Emperor has confided to the local English paper that now for the 
first time in years he knows what it is to enjoy refreshing undis 
turbed sleep. 

The actual situation within the Nationalist or Southern Party 
seems to be that as a result of the comparatively successful 
Northern drive they have divided up into disorderly groups, or at 
any event disorderly groups have detached themselves from the 
main armies which for so long, to the admiration of many observ 
ers, seemed perfectly in hand. Before the immediate objec 
tives, the Yangtze Ports, were reached, the Southern Nationalists 
could and did with justice claim that they presented politically, 
as well as in a military sense, a united front. Unfortunately 
they cannot claim to occupy this enviable position any longer. 
Perhaps the differences of opinion between the right and the left 
wing of the Cantonese groups and parties are legitimate, and have 
not been stimulated by the distribution of largesse from the North. 
It is certain that quite similar differences of opinion have oc 
curred at such junctures in the course of many other revolution 
ary movements. Such manifestations of disagreement were not 
lacking at times in our own revolutionary days, and more re- 

VOL. CCXXIV. NO. 835 17 


cently the same phenomenon swamped the Russian revolution 
and brought back to Russia the tyranny of the few over the many. 

While it is extremely difficult for the Treaty Powers to reshape 
their policies at the behest of the Southern Party, which at a lib 
eral estimate barely controls one-third of China, and which cer 
tainly cannot claim to enjoy the full confidence of all the Chinese 
people or to offer complete safeguards for carrying out its agree 
ments, yet concessions have been made of great importance, of 
revolutionary importance, as they think in the clubs and counting 
rooms of the Treaty Ports. As a result of the historic negotia 
tions at Hankow between Mr. Chen, who speaks a little Chinese 
with an English accent, and Mr. O'Malley, who speaks English 
with a delightful Irish brogue, the British municipality at Han 
kow was dissolved and the administration handed over to Chinese 
control on March 15. The new mixed administrative board is 
composed of four Chinese and three British, and while its estab 
lishment has taken place at a critical moment for Hankow and 
the foreigners who have not been induced to come away, no 
untoward incident has occurred as yet. Mr. Chen insisted 
that the English authorities, whether military, naval or civil, 
with one of whom he was seeking a modus vivendi, must not 
enter into negotiations with any of the Chinese officials who 
are exercising de facto authority in what he called "certain 
areas". As these areas probably represent the two-thirds of 
China in which the jurisdiction of the South has not been estab 
lished and where foreign consuls are doing their best with the local 
authorities to secure protection of life and property, this demand 
was not and should not be accepted, for many reasons, one of 
which might well be a consideration for the Government of the 
South itself, which should not be loaded with a responsibility it 
cannot hope to cope with successfully for months to come. 

In conclusion the vital and pregnant feature of the situation 
can be stated in a few words. The Chinese are passing through 
a radical national transformation and the outcome in the near or 
remote future depends largely upon the policy that the outside 
and yet involved Nations adopt toward an unfortunate people in 
this acute crisis in their affairs. Not in the twinkling of an eye 
but yet in the course of two short decades peace-loving, perhaps 


pacifist, China has become a militant Nation with a million men 
under arms. 

At this juncture we must continue to cooperate with China, 
although it will be increasingly difficult to do so. Acting jointly, 
or concurrently, with the Treaty Powers whose grievances are the 
same as ours, however different their policies and objectives may 
have been in the recent past, affords the best opportunity to 
exercise a restraining influence. Yet our acting in this way 
would distress that considerable fraction of the Chinese who since 
the tense days of 1900 have come to look to Washington for help 
ful cooperation. On the other hand, by withdrawing from the 
present uneasy bloc of the Western world, we should undoubtedly 
encourage those radical and reckless elements in China who 
maintain that foreign aggression must be met with force, that in 
war and not in negotiation lies the solution. As no just complaint 
can be brought against those who have been charged with the 
protection of our interests as well as with the maintenance of our 
historic policy in these anxious days of crisis, the decision as to 
how our purpose may best be achieved should be left to those 
upon whom this onerous duty devolves. 

The attitude that a friendly, peace-loving Nation should take 
when its interests suffer from the disorders inseparable from civil 
war in another country has been defined in a letter which Mr. 
Taft wrote to Ambassador Wilson in Mexico City under date of 
April 3, 1913, and recently published. Mr. Taft, who had gone 
out of the White House three weeks before, in reviewing the anx 
ious hours of responsibility he had shared with Mr. Wilson during 
the "Tragic Ten Days" of Mexican history, writes: "The truth 
is that the Department was mistaken and you were right. ... It 
is certainly very unwise for a foreign Government to project into 
a heated controversy too much of its right to protection from the 
existing Government, when that Government is struggling for its 
life." Of course the situation along the Yangtze and that which 
threatened in Mexico are not entirely similar; indeed, situations 
never are. But there are striking points of resemblance, and 
these words of prudent counsel lose nothing of the weight that 
should be attached to them from the fact that the President who 
uttered them is now Chief Justice of the United States. 



IN the World War, thousands of clergymen, as chaplains or 
Y. M. C. A. workers, came into contact exclusively with men 
almost all born after 1890. They had facts driven into their 
souls which they had heard of, which they knew a little about, but 
which they had not deeply felt while there were devout women to 
occupy most of their attention. 

They discovered that fifty to sixty per cent, of the community 
was pagan; that the greater part of the men had not the faintest 
idea what Christianity was, or what it was trying to do; they were 
not particularly hostile to the church but they were not interested 
in it; they felt no need of private worship, and public worship was 
rather a bore, and so far as they had any idea of what Christianity 
was, they thought it a system of petty one Doctor of Divinity 
who evidently agrees with much of this calls them "piffling" 
prohibitions, obvious annoyances and of no real value. 

It is not necessary to measure the exact degree of the church's 
failure; it is sufficient to notice that an impressive number of 
clergymen, in print and from the platform, are telling the world 
largely as the result of their observations in the army, and 
their contact with men born since 1890 that the church has in 
very great measure failed. Some of them admit the failure 
to be so extensive that they do not see any future for the church, 
unless there shall be revolutionary changes, the nature of which 
they do not discern, or they are not prepared to outline. 

And yet the cause is not obscure, and the presumption is that 
the cure is to be effected by removing the cause. At least, this is 
the obvious experiment to make. Christianity in its organized 
ecclesiastical forms has diverged in important respects from the 
teachings and practices of Jesus. 

Jesus was no Puritan, and he shocked his Puritan contempo 
raries repeatedly. The Pharisees were the Puritans of His day. 


It is Puritanism to tithe mint and anise and cummin, and neglect 
the weightier matters of the law, "judgment (or justice), and 
mercy and faith". The Pharisees were sincere enough. They 
were not pretenders. They did not try to appear other than 
they were. They were only too anxious that everyone should 
know how religious they were, how long and often they prayed, 
and how much alms they disbursed. They were hypocrites in a 
vastly deeper and more disastrous sense. They supposed religion 
consisted of an intolerable scrupulosity regarding observances 
and of "piffling" prohibitions. They had an elaborate science 
of conscientious scruples. 

This Puritanism, even if not systematically practiced, alienates 
a large part of the community which would respond generously 
to appeals in behalf of the weightier matters of the law without 
the "piffling" prohibitions. Within the church it obscures 
moral distinctions by condemning whole classes of reading or 
amusements without attempting to teach distinctions between 
the good and the bad. The teacher of morals actually blunts the 
moral sense. It does exactly what Phariseeism did in making 
religion consist of unimportant things, which either displace or 
dwarf the essentials of religion. The most relentless opponents 
of Jesus and Paul were the most religious persons of their time. 

Nothing has done more to alienate the community from the 
church than Sabbatarianism. If that were a part of the original 
Christian religion there would be nothing more to say about it, 
on the religious side. But it is not. There is no commendation 
of Sabbath keeping in the New Testament nor any condemnation 
of Sabbath breaking. The only allusions Jesus made to Sabbath 
keeping were deprecatory. Paul repeatedly and explicitly repu 
diated it. The early church did not keep the Sabbath. It met 
for worship on the Day of the Lord, or the Day of the Resurrec 
tion, but very early, so that the people could go about their busi 
ness after worship. The converts from Judaism continued to 
keep Saturday holy, which Paul sanctioned, while he declared the 
observance not binding. 

For two or three centuries some observance of the Jewish 
Sabbath co-existed with worship on the Lord's Day, conclusive 
evidence that the early Christians did not suppose the latter was 


substituted for the former. The phrase "Christian Sabbath" is 
not earlier than the Twelfth Century. 

But if the religious obligation were beyond dispute, Sabbath 
legislation by the civil power would not be justified. It would 
seem as if the church had suffered enough from legislation on re 
ligion by the civil power to avoid this snare, but it has not. The 
people of the church are as eager as ever to use the civil power to 
enforce their beliefs. Of course they are not able to use it as it 
was used in the Middle Ages, but they use it as much as they can. 
Sabbath legislation is ostensibly in the interest of the public 
health, but the proscription of amusements, and the closing of 
libraries and galleries, when the church people are influential 
enough to accomplish it, is religious legislation. Ninety per cent, 
of Sunday laws is religious legislation which the civil power has no 
right to enact. 

The church does not teach much about forgiveness because it 
does not aim at teaching; preaching, as Dr. Orchard says, is not 
instructive but hortatory. So far, however, as forgiveness is ex 
plained, it is taught that human beings must forgive whether for 
giveness is sought or not, while penitence is not enough to enable 
God to forgive; a debt must be paid, or an angry Sovereign must 
be placated, or a judge must be satisfied by the infliction of 
punishment. Yet the Lord's Prayer teaches that there is one 
condition of pardon, whether divine or human, and in the esti 
mation of John, God is righteous not merely indulgent in for 
giving sin that is repented of. 

In regard to the purpose for which Jesus appeared on earth, 
His own statements ought to be conclusive, but organized 
Christianity does not regard them as adequate, and it alienates 
estimable and naturally religious people by the explanations with 
which it replaces His. Jesus 's own statement was that if He were 
crucified He would draw all men unto Him, and He spoke of the 
Brazen Serpent lifted up in the Wilderness as symbolical of Him 
self. There was no blood on the Brazen Serpent. The church 
teaches that Jesus did not come to draw men unto Him, but to 
remove an obstacle in the way of divine pardon of the penitent. 
It teaches that there is a debt that must be paid, though Jesus 
told two parables of debtors, beside the parable of the Prodigal 


Son, to teach the absolute freedom of pardon on the single condi 
tion of penitence. In the face of all that Jesus taught of pardon 
on the condition of repentance, the church holds even if it does 
not present the doctrine frequently that justice can only be 
satisfied by the imposition of penalty, and that the penalty is im 
posed upon the innocent, than which nothing can be more shock 
ingly immoral. 

The doctrine of the blood atonement, or the vicarious atone 
ment, or the sacrificial atonement, is without support in the New 
or the Old Testament. A favorite proof text from the Epistle 
to the Hebrews is habitually misquoted as well as misapplied. A 
proof text from Isaiah is construed by Matthew in accordance 
with reason and not with mediaeval theology. The Paschal 
Lamb was not a sin offering, and its significance was as remote 
from that of the 'scape goat which was not slain as the Pass 
over is remote from the Day of Atonement in the calendar. The 
propitiation spoken of by Paul in nearly every case carries us to 
the place where God met man in the Tabernacle and not to the 
altar of sacrifice, and Paul used the language of a pagan people 
which occasionally carried a pagan implication. 

The effort has been made to support the doctrine of the blood 
atonement by the Jewish sacrificial system, which lands us in an 
endless and profitless circle; the meaning of the Jewish sacrifices 
was never disclosed till the crucifixion, and the meaning of the 
crucifixion is to be found in the sacrificial service. The truth is 
that the ethical part of the Jewish religion comes not from the 
priests, but from the Prophets, who denounced the sacrifices al 
most as fiercely as they denounced the worship of the heathen, and 
three of whom imply a total lack of divine authority for the sac 
rifices. In the sublimest confession of sin the Psalmist cries out: 

For Thou delightest not in sacrifice; else would I give it: 

Thou hast no pleasure in burnt offering. 

The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit : 

A broken and a contrite* heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise. 

The Jewish sacrifices were for ceremonial cleansing only. They 
were prescribed for acts of no moral quality, and for a few of the 
minor offenses which admitted of satisfaction by indemnity. 


They were offered sometimes in behalf of inanimate objects, and 
"atonement" was in some cases effected by the gift of articles of 
value. Even stout defenders of the orthodox doctrine admit 
that the sacrifices had no, or only the most shadowy, ethical 

It is true that this doctrine is not preached much now, because 
no doctrine is preached much. But this theory of the atonement, 
this speculation of mediaeval monks, is the background of a great 
part of the preaching, its vocabulary is in common use, it is in the 
very forefront of all revivalist preaching, and "Gospel" hymns 
are full of it. The church does not disclaim it; in a recent year 
the Presbyterian General Assembly reaffirmed it without a dis 
senting vote. It has alienated a countless host of persons who 
know it to be as repugnant to morals and revelation as it is to 

Jesus taught salvation by works and Luther taught salvation 
by faith, and he appears to be regarded as the greater as well as 
the later Prophet. He took a long step in the direction of making 
religion moral when he announced his doctrine as a corrective of 
the evils of his time. But he did not clear up the confusion in 
which he had been reared between good works which are the fruits 
of a good character and good works of a merely disciplinary sort, 
like the ascent of the sacred staircase on one's knees. To visit 
the widow and the fatherless in their affliction and to keep one 
self unspotted from the world is religion, according to James, 
whose Epistle Luther would have liked to exclude from the canon. 

Philanthropy is religion. It is not necessary to claim that it is 
the whole of religion, but it would be only a slight exaggeration. 
If there is a separation in the next world between the righteous 
and the wicked the Judge of the Final Assize must be the highest 
possible authority on the line of that separation. What is the 
picture of the Last Judgment in the twenty -fifth chapter of 
Matthew? It shows a separation on lines of philanthropy alone; 
it is entirely a question of feeding the hungry and clothing the 
naked and ministering to the sick and in prison. How many 
persons have ever heard a sermon based upon that passage? It is 
not used because it does not harmonize with the later and higher 
doctrine of salvation by faith. 


When John the Baptist in his discouragement sent to know 
whether Jesus were actually the Messiah the answer put philan 
thropy in the first place: "The blind receive their sight, and the 
lame walk, the lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the 
dead are raised up, and the poor have good tidings preached to 

Jesus put the emphasis on conduct; the church puts it on be 
lief. The results are occasionally shocking; sometimes they are 
only grotesque or amusing. A man of great usefulness in his 
profession, in civil life, and in the church went to France in an 
important position in the service of the Y. M. C. A., and in an 
address since his return he described some of his experiences : 

"While in France I lived with a thousand clergymen, elders 
and trustees of churches. Unless a similar great emergency arises 
I hope I shall not have to live with such people again. They 
do not have in them the quality of human kindness. ... It 
is not because they are not Christian in belief, but because they 
are not Christian in personality." 

But those thousand clergymen and elders and trustees of 
churches have been systematically trained to regard Christianity 
in belief as of vital importance, and Christianity in personality as 
negligible. They are probably just as easy to live with as a thou 
sand people who never enter a church, but not more so, and a 
multitude of men and women who are useful in the world and 
would be useful in the church are repelled from the church, not by 
the frailties and inconsistencies of individuals in the church, but 
because the church in its organized capacity, and in its formal 
expressions, and in its standards, misplaces the centre of gravity 
of the Christian life, making it a matter of belief and not of 

Of course Trinitarianism must go by the board. If the moder 
ate drinker is the very pander to hell whom clergymen have no 
words at least, none that they can use in the pulpit to describe, 
no part of the community will long continue to worship as the sin 
less Son of God the Person who called public attention to the con 
trast between His regimen and the ascetic life of John the Baptist, 
who spurned the temptation of the devil to use His supernatural 
power to convert stones into bread, but did use it for the first time 


to convert water into wine, and who commended the bread and 
wine of the Passover to His followers as memorials of His death. 

Before the days of the Eighteenth Amendment a large pro 
portion of the churches had reached a moral level so much higher 
than that of Jesus that they refused to use wine at the Commun 
ion. It would have been more respectable had they substituted 
water, but they preferred to save appearances by using grape 
juice, preserved from fermentation by a chemical. Their con 
sciences would not allow them to do what His conscience allowed 
Him to do. And yet they profess to revere Him as sinless and 
divine. Some churches were determined to retain the use of 
wine at the Communion until the last, but were entirely willing to 
have wine suppressed on all other occasions. But the Communion 
cup is less sacred than the social glass, which the Prohibitionists 
look upon as the very snare of the devil; at the Last Supper Jesus 
used the bread and wine provided by Jewish law and custom. 
At Cana He used His creative power to provide wine for the en 
joyment of a social party. 

In the early days of the campaign to banish wine from the 
Communion, because the thing that Jesus did would lead men 
into mortal sin, there was a good deal of effort to adjust the new 
practice to the example of Jesus. There was assumed to be a 
non-intoxicating wine that Jesus used, and which he made at 
Cana, although the ruler of the feast knew no difference between 
the wine produced by miracle and that produced by natural 
fermentation and the processes of Nature are the work of the 
Creator except that the former was the better wine. There 
was a warm controversy over this imaginary non-intoxicating 
wine, and in the course of this no less eminent a Presbyterian 
than Dr. A. A. Hodge said in The Presbyterian Review in 1881 : "If 
a man who knows that Christ used the fermented juice of the 
grape in the institution of the Last Supper to symbolize His 
atoning blood, yet declares that it is immoral for us to do so, he 
is evidently guilty of unsurpassed blasphemy." But no one 
cares now whether the new dogma can be squared with the ex 
ample of Jesus or not. To the present generation of Christians 
it matters not what Jesus did, or did not; they have received a 
higher revelation through a temperance organization. 


The expurgation of the Gospels to meet the views of the Pro 
hibitionists has already begun. There has been issued under the 
sanction of officers of the Young Men's and Young Women's 
Christian Associations "The Shorter Bible", from the New 
Testament of which the account of the miracle at Cana has been 
omitted. Evidently it is hoped by the Prohibitionists that if no 
allusion is ever made to the matter and a version of the New 
Testament can be slipped into general circulation from which the 
miracle at Cana has been expunged, the world will forget the bad 
example set by Jesus and the immoral influence He exerted by 
countenancing the use of an alcoholic beverage, and even provid 
ing it for a social occasion. 

The Old and the New Testament have no word of condemna 
tion for the use of wine under self control, but they sternly 
condemn drunkenness. The Prohibitionists reverse this, de 
nounce the man who drinks under self control, and coddle the 
drunkard as a poor unfortunate whose failing is due to others. 
Thus the principle of moral responsibility, upon which Chris 
tianity has until lately laid marked emphasis, is eliminated. 

For nearly half a century this temperance organization has 
been diligently undermining the moral authority of Jesus by 
representing His habit as the most pernicious of sins, and it has 
had the satisfaction of seeing America welcomed to the higher 
morality of Moslemism by the Sultans of Turkey and the Sheikhs 
ul Islam. It also sees and hears eminent clergymen lamenting 
the failing power of the church. The world is not paying much 
attention now, and soon will pay none whatever, to clergymen 
who urge the people to follow Jesus of Nazareth, but under no 
circumstances to follow Jesus of Cana, who cite Jesus as the su 
preme moral authority when they approve of Him and ignore 
Him when they do not. Momentum will carry the church along 
for a time, but it is evident from the confessions of the clergy 
that the momentum is giving out, they either know not why, or 
they do not care to say it. 

Moslemism does not expect men to exercise self control and it 
aims to restrain them from drunkenness by prohibition, and from 
licentiousness by locking up the women in harems. Christianity 
has until lately allowed men and women to meet each other and 


to drink wine. We have now adopted so much of the Moslem 
rule as commends itself to women. 

Anyone who contrasts the social customs of recent years and 
those of a hundred or fifty years ago must be profoundly im 
pressed with the growth of self control. The moral influences 
which Jesus set at work have produced great results, but they are 
too slow for the present variety of religionists. "God is not in a 
hurry, but I am," is the cry of the modern minister. 

The miracle of Cana derives the greater significance from the 
fact that the three earlier Gospels omit it, presumably because it 
seemed trivial, but it is recorded in the Fourth Gospel, written 
when asceticism was beginning to show itself in the Chris 
tian community. John recorded it evidently to show that 
Jesus sanctioned marriage and the convivial element in human 

The force of the precedent established at Cana cannot be broken 
by referring to the garb of Jesus, which is not worn now. Are 
our moral leaders incapable of distinguishing between manners 
and morals? It is not more pertinent to cite polygamy and slav 
ery, which are condemned by the moral sense of modern times, 
but were not specifically condemned by Jesus; He practiced 
neither, and He did practice wine drinking. Still less effective is 
it to say that conditions have changed; the only conditions that 
are relevant have not changed. The only indictment against 
wine is that it intoxicates if used to an excess. So it did in the 
New Testament times. Even "new wine" intoxicated, for the 
ribald attributed the "speaking with tongues" at Pentecost to its 
influence. Paul condemned the Christians at Corinth for drink 
ing to excess at the Lord's Supper; but he only urged self 
control; not abstinence. 

The church has decided overwhelmingly, according to all 
appearance, that it is a sin to drink wine and a crime to make it. 
It would give worlds if Jesus had been as good a man as John the 
Baptist, and if at Cana He had used His supernatural power to 
convert the wine of the feast into water. The Prohibitionists 
would have known exactly what to do with such a record. The 
record happens to be the reverse and they know not what to do 
with it, so they pass by on the other side, and if they are com- 


pelled to look at what they do not wish to see they offer some 
excuse that insults the intelligence. 

But John P. 
Robinson, he 
Sez they didn't know everythin' down in Judee. 

This attitude is perfectly intelligible, and it may be defensible, 
but it cannot be reconciled with the doctrine of the Trinity. If 
that is the position of the church, it has abandoned belief in the 
deity of Jesus. 

The Prohibitionists may be quite right. Their numbers are im 
pressive. Their arguments are plausible. There is no effort here 
to refute them. But nothing can be plainer than that if the 
Prohibitionists are right, Jesus was wrong. 

The church is going through the greatest convulsion since 
the Reformation, and the men who stand on the watch towers of 
Zion do not know what is happening. Many of them see with 
sorrow that the church is a diminishing factor in the community, 
but almost none of them betrays the least comprehension of why it 
is, or what the result will be. 

The authority of the pulpit has almost entirely evaporated. 
Those who read and think reach their own conclusions and 
many of them realize that what the pulpit gives is not the religion 
of Christ. The mediaeval theology is recognized as no part of the 
Gospels. The asceticism and Sabbatarianism that are urged are 
without authority and are irritating and ineffective. And a world 
of Prohibitionists is not going to worship a Person who drank 
wine and made it for the enjoyment of a social gathering. 

The church must get back to the simple and reasonable teach 
ing of Jesus, to His philanthropy, to His broad liberalism, and 
above all it has got to accept Him as a supreme moral authority, 
always and not occasionally, or it will become, if it be not already, 


EDMOND CHARLES CLINTON GENET was a great-great grandson 
of Citizen Genet and of the daughter of Governor George Clinton. 
His great-great-grandaunt was the famous Henriette, Madame 
Campan, the friend of Marie Antoinette and author of the 
Memoirs. His brief life he was only twenty when he died 
comprised service on two continents and in three elements: He 
had been a sailor in our Navy, a soldier in the Foreign Legion, 
and was the first American aviator to die under the Stars and 
Stripes in the great war, quickly following his comrades, Victor 
Chapman, Kiffin Rockwell, James McConnell and others of the 
Lafayette Escadrille who, serving under the flag of France, 
served most of all their own country. They were not permitted 
to fly her flag, but they did literally keep alive and on high her 
name and faith, in Europe's darkest hour. "They were," writes 
Mr. John Jay Chapman in his preface to Genet's Letters, "a 
flight of birds from all over the country. Mere romanticism and 
a desire for adventure would not have brought them together; 
and the more we find out about these boys the more we see that 
in each of them there was a soul's history that led up to this spe 
cial consummation. They are national characters symbols of 
America. In life and death they express the relation of America 
to the war." 

Of this unforgettable group, Edmond Genet was the youngest, 
but he had already contrived to be present in two small wars, in 
Haiti, and at Vera Cruz (where he was first to volunteer for a 
dangerous landing-party), and had read his own obituaries after 
the Battle of Champagne, in which his regiment was virtually 
decimated. "There have been," he writes a few months after 
that battle, "about forty-eight thousand volunteers for the war 
in the Legion since the conflict began. There are about five 
thousand left for service now, so you can easily guess how many 
there will be after another drive." 

These notes are taken from the pages of his War Diaries, kept 


with unbroken continuity, even on the days of battle, and down 
to the very eve of his death. They were transcribed for THE 
NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW from the almost microscopic text of 
the original by Grace Ellery Channing, Editor of The War 
Letters of Edmond Genet , and will be followed in the next issue of 
this magazine with a similar presentation of his diary as an 



Advance; and when you can no longer advance, hold at all costs 
what you have gained. If you can no longer hold 9 die on the spot. 


(Order issued before the Battle of the Marne. Written on the fly-leaf of Edmond C. C. 
Genet's note-book.) 

U.S.S. Georgia, Boston Navy Yard. 
Tuesday, December 29, 1914. 

... At one P.M. today I took the most daring and decided step of my life. 
I left ship with a furlough paper for ten days in my possession, with the con 
vinced feeling that I would never return. Something bigger and sterner was 
calling me. It was the great world conflict raging across the Atlantic. How 
I was to get to it I knew not; neither did I know in what way I could help if I 
got there; but these seemed surmountable barriers. I would go, and somehow, 
someway, I would help that glorious French nation, the nation of my ancestors 
of Citizen Genet no matter what the cost to myself, what the price to be 
paid later for my deliberate act of desertion. . . . Now was my chance 
when I knew I had the money from the interest on my farm's mortgage, $50, 
which my guardian had written he had for me. As I marched away from the 
Georgia, I looked back at that big ship of war and felt that it was my last 
glimpse of Navy life; and I was glad. 

Norristown, Thursday, December 31, 1914. 

I look back on this year and have no regrets that it is over. A year of Navy 
life . . . What will be written in the pages of this coming year? Will I be 
in that great world strife across the sea? God grant so, and, should that be so, 
may He guide me safely and successfully through it all. I want to do my part 
in that great cause of Right and Justice to the world of civilized peoples, even 
though my own beloved country has refused to stand up and fight with those 
who are striving heroically for Justice. I am an American, but I am also a 
civilized human being. Should my service my very life go to America or 
to Humanity, first? The answer is plain to me. 

January 6, 1915. 

Left town about noon and stopped off to see Uncle Clair. He turned over 
the $160 from the interest of the farm mortgage to put to my account. It 


will carry me to France, but of course neither he nor anyone else knows of 
my intentions. 

January 7. 

The die is cast. I go to France on the first ship sailing. I need lots of 
courage and nerve now to get out of the country before I am found out as a 
deserter and caught. 

New York, January 8. 

Will have trouble getting a passport, but have until next Tuesday as the 
Niagara's sailing has been delayed . . . Am using the excuse of personal 
business in regard to looking up old family property in getting my passport to 
France. My name will help me in that way, for I absolutely refuse to take 
a false name. Will change my age to twenty-one, as I may not be allowed in 
the military service in France if I am under age. I'll be nervy and go directly 
to Washington myself to get the passport signed. 

Norristown, January 13. 

The "thirteenth", and my passport has that for its date! Got it O. K.'ed 
very easily and no troublesome questions. Nerve wins every time. Took 
train to Norristown to say good bye to dear little Mother ... I broke to her 
as best I could the news of my desertion and my intention of going to France to 
join in the fighting. She took it very bravely and prayed God to guide me 
aright. God knows it was as hard for me as it was for her to think of our part 
ing, perhaps never to meet in this world again. God bless her! 

New York, January 14. 

Arrived in New York and secured the French Consul's vise on my passport. 
Then I purchased my ticket to Havre on the SS. Rochambeau, which is due to 
sail at 3 P.M. next Monday. It cost me seventy dollars. There's no turning 
back now. 

New York, January 15. 

Received letter from dear little Mother with a tiny gold cross enclosed. I 
shall wear it around my neck from now on always. Rivers will be down 
to see me Sunday. 

January 17. 

Saw in paper that Rochambeau does not sail until Wednesday, so wrote to 
Rivers to wait until then. 

* * * 

On Board Rochambeau, January 20. 

Rivers came and took me to an attractive little restaurant for our last 
luncheon together, and mine in the dear homeland. Went to pier about 1.30, 
but had to wait until 5 o'clock before the Rochambeau sailed. . . . The last 
I saw of Rivers was as the ship pulled out into the river. He was out on the 
end of the pier close to the rail, holding up his right hand as if in a last hand 
clasp to me. I waved back and then lost sight of him as we got out into the 


Hudson and began to turn our prow downstream. By the time we headed 
down toward the Narrows it was dark, and I had the most beautiful night view 
of dear old Manhattan Isle I have ever had. Every building was outlined 
with electric lights, and it made a wonderful picture one I shall never forget. 
As we passed "Liberty Light" on our starboard, I saluted, and then went 

On Board Rochambeau, At Sea, January 27. 

Citizen Genet didn't go to America this way. I'm more on the type of 
gallant Lafayette, I guess . . . 

Paris, France, January 29. 

Came into Havre about ten o'clock. Passed many swift torpedo boats 
guarding the harbor. Docked at 10:30 with Mr. Guerquin, the other two 
gentlemen and a fine young fellow by the name of Norman Prince, who comes 
from Massachusetts, is an aviator, and intends to join the French aviation 
corps for the war . . . 

January 31. 

Cablegram arrived from Rivers saying that if I return I will not be held for 
desertion but merely for my absence over leave. He'll arrange my passage 
back. Confessed my plight to Mr. Guerquin. I certainly will not go back 
unless I find I cannot in any possible way get into the French Foreign Legion, 
in which, Mr. G. tells me many, many foreigners have engaged for the war, 
among whom are a number of Americans. Never heard of this Legion before 
in my life, but will try to enlist tomorrow. Hope fervently I get in. Went 
over to see Norman Prince at a hotel across the Seine. Took long walk in the 
afternoon and found the American Church of the Holy Trinity, on the Avenue 
d'Alma. Went in for the five o'clock evening prayer. It did seem fine to be in 
one's own church in a foreign country. It really made me feel nearer to 

February 2. 

Reported at the recruiting office and was conducted with several others to an 
officer at the Headquarters office, who was extremely pleasant and courteous 
and spoke English. Told me I could certainly enlist if I could pass the 
physical examination, which I shall have to take tomorrow morning. . . . 

February 3. 

Reported for duty at two o'clock, ready to leave for Lyons in the evening. 
Got papers and five francs to pay for my meals on the journey, and went to 
Gare de Lyons to take the train. 

Lyons, February 4. 

Pulled into Lyons at eight A.M. After considerable walking and inquiry 
I found the Legion depot and got registered and assigned a place to sleep. 
Had another medical examination. Perfectly miserable quarters. This is 
real French army life. Had to do some dirty work in P.M., pulling hay out of 
VOL. ccxxiv. NO. 885 18 


old mattresses and storing it in barn. Lost the quaint little cameo ring which 
dear little Mother gave me years ago. Turned in early on a miserable plank 
sort of cot, with an old straw mattress, a straw-filled pillow, and three blankets 
one under and two over me. Food is terrible. Bread's the only thing 
half way decent and I never tasted anything like it before in my life, either. 
This is some change from my previous existence. Was like a prince in the 
Navy compared to this; but I'm glad I'm here. 

February 6. 

Received my soldier outfit in P.M., the famous red pantaloons and dark 
blue jacket and red cap of the French Infantry. Red will be changed for blue 
before I go to the front. Have a baggy looking suit of dirty white to put on 
over the rest for drill and work. It's a wonderful outfit, and no mistake. 
Have a handsome light blue girdle four yards long and a half a yard wide, 
which I have to wear around my waist to be reglementaire pour la Legion 
Etrangere. It's great. One has to be wound into the blamed thing. Couldn't 
get my suit of "cits" posted to Paris, so gave them away to a young chap in a 
store in the evening. Good-bye to civilians and it was a twenty dollar suit I 
bought only last October. 

February 7. 

Another American arrived here this afternoon. He's a doctor and hails from 
good old Buffalo. Name's David Wheeler. He seems to be a splendid chap, 
rather young and boyish and very good natured. We both felt relieved to see 
an American face, and I think we'll be excellent comrades. He's very quiet 
but chummy. Out in town in the evening and bought some inner soles for my 
shoes, and stamps. Am nearly broke. As we receive only a sou a day 
(about one cent U. S. coin) I can't see myself very wealthy in the French 

February 8. 

My first experience with French drill. The commands seem difficult to 
grasp, but I guess they'll be all right with a bit of practice. The movements 
in handling the rifle are different from our own. Having difficulty to sleep 
soundly on these hard French bunks. 

February 11. 

Good day and plenty of drill. Shot at thirty yards range in morning and 
had first try with French bayonet drill in the afternoon. The French troops 
are famous for their deadly bayonet charges. . . . 

La Valbonne, March 5. 

Target practice at 400 metres in early A.M., followed by drill. Did good 
shooting. Was picked out today as one of the best men in the company, which 
is gratifying as it makes me feel certain of being one of those who will be 
picked to go to the front. 

March 12. 

Was among those picked out this A.M. to go off to the front on Tuesday. 
Made me feel quite big and important. 


March 15. 

Leave tomorrow for Lyons. Was issued my livre militaire (service book) 
and my metal identification plate. Most of the French attach it to the wrist 
with a chain bracelet, but I put it on a string around my neck beside the little 
gold cross Mother gave to me. Lydon, a very nice young American chap, 
goes tomorrow so it will be less lonely for me. Lydon comes from Massa 

Lyons, March 16. 

When we marched through the streets of Lyons we received a rousing wel 
come and ovation. People gave us flowers (huge bouquets) and fruit. One 
woman threw oranges down to us from a third story window. I caught one 
and ate it as we marched along. Everyone was happy. Quartered in a big 
barracks. Went out after supper with Joe Lydon. Took along a pair of 
civilian shoes I've had with me, and sold them for three francs at an old shoe 
shop. Joe sold a pair for the same price, so, with my five francs we were 
able to enjoy some wine together; and I bought some necessities as well. 

March 17. 

Turned in our old recruit rifles. Received two good pairs of shoes one 
heavy and strong, with hobnails all over the soles, and another lighter pair for 
repose. Out with Lydon in the evening and we both indulged in a good warm 
bath in a public bath house for fifteen centimes each. Then we treated 
ourselves to a motion picture show. 

March 19. 

Were issued rifles. Was able to get the first pick, so got hold of an excellent 
and perfectly good one. It will pay to have a perfect one out on active 
service. It is our last night here, for we leave tomorrow au front. 

March 20. 

Marched out before noon. Didn't get much of a send-off. Our going seems 
quiet and business-like, significant of the grim work before us. Lydon and I 
managed to get together in the train and we both have our canteens full of red 
wine. We filled them up at the station before leaving and again along the 
route. Everybody feeling good and happy. Am off for the front exactly two 
months after sailing from New York. 

In the trenches, March 25. 

Marched out of village up to steep hill. . . . We were all told to keep 
strictly silent and march in single file about two paces behind one another. 
I kept back of a little fellow who hails from Colombia, South America. His 
name is Louis Ester and he's in my squad. He speaks English very well. . . . 
Traversing the top of the hill we entered a broad trench nearly two metres 
deep, and then the tiresome part began ... I thought my back would break 
before I reached the first line, but it didn't, and we finally got into the little 
first line sector where our company was to take its place. . . . Guards were at 
once posted along the trench, one about every twenty metres. I am quartered 
in a tiny underground dugout under the outer wall of the trench. Four of us 


occupy the one cave, and there's just space enough to curl up and sleep. There 
is a small coal fire in a rude fireplace to keep us warm and with which to make 
our tea or coffee and toast bread. . . . We are just opposite the little village 
of Dompierre, which is occupied by the Germans and is a mass of shattered 
ruins. The German trenches are scarcely four hundred yards away and just 
look like a long line of earth with here and there places which look like and 
must be openings for machine guns. They say the Germans have twice as 
many of these as the French. A continual rifle fire is kept up by both sides, 
and all night white fusees (rockets) are sent up every few minutes to prevent 
surprise attacks. They light everything brilliantly for a minute and then 
suddenly burn out, and the night seems blacker than ever for a few seconds 
afterwards. It all seems very weird. And the great deadlock of the two 
lines stretching from the North Sea to the Alps! Am I actually at the very 
edge of that stretch of dead land that lies between the two opposing forces, in 
some places from five to eight hundred yards wide and in others but a bare 
dozen or even less, which we call "No Man's Land"? It seems unbelievable. 
Tonight while I was guarding from eight to ten, I did what the others do, fired 
over the top of the trench at the flashes of fire on the other side, and then 
ducked down to escape being hit by the bullets that would immediately hiss 
over in my direction. Often one would strike the top of the trench with a loud 
spat. Others would sing as they sped over our heads far towards the rear. 
The trench is very irregular, thus preventing cross-fire. At about every 
hundred metres there is a machine gun emplacement, very strongly protected. 
The gun is always in readiness for action. Here and there are openings into 
long subterranean mines leading out deep underground to the German lines. 
Both sides do this horrible work a great deal. The boys tell me the French 
have all of Dompierre completely undermined and some day it will be blown 
sky high. It must be a horrible death to be buried in a mine explosion, 
perhaps blown to shreds. The fellows have had many such disasters all the 
winter, they tell me. Dozens have been killed at a time. 

In trenches of First Line, March 26. 

I had guard from four to six this morning, and swept out the trench along 
our part of the sector afterward. We get coffee as usual in the morning about 
six. For that and the'soup twice a day, two or three of us of each squad have 
to go back about two kilometers through the "leaders" to meet the wagon 
kitchen which comes out from Gappy with its supply of steaming hot food. 
We carry it through the trenches in fair-sized tin soup receivers. They are 
about sixteen inches high and several of us have to carry each one with his 
load. It straps to the back of the sack. They are not heavy, but rather 
awkward. . . . The French batteries of '75s are wonderful. They've been 
barking all day and I found it interesting watching the shells break in loud, 
sharp, pistol-like reports on the German lines. A bright flash, black smoke, 
flying dust and earth, and the sharp crack of the report that is all. The 
Germans have an increasing terror of these little guns. 


March 27. 

Had guard from two to four and nearly froze my poor feet. Chasing for 
soup is quite a tiresome task. It takes over an hour, for we have to wait for the 
cuisine to arrive. Soup of vegetables and fat and meat; usually a stew of meat 
and rice, or meat and potatoes, or macaroni, or all together, and red wine (one 
cup apiece) and a half loaf of this army bread each day, taste pretty good. 
The bread is mighty good, and excellent when toasted. Some times we get 
small portions of good jam or chocolate bars, and occasionally tea with the 
afternoon repast. One can't kick over the food, even if it is often far from 
warm and quite dirty by the time we eat it in the line. Half a loaf of bread 
(the loaf is quite thick and at least fifteen inches in diameter) is never too much 
for a full twenty-four hours. None of us have any left by the time the next 
day's ration arrives. 

March 28. 

Late this morning, a periscope, through which I had just been looking at 
the German lines, was neatly smashed by a German sniper. The rays of the 
sun must have lighted up the top glass and he put a bullet through its middle. 
These German snipers all seem to be crack marksmen. We've got some good 
ones, too. The Germans blew up a mine under the sector to our right this 
morning. Rocks, dirt and all went flying high, but only two or three fellows 
were hurt and none killed. We all rushed to our posts to be ready in case of 
attack. Early in the afternoon the Germans sent a lot of aerial torpedoes into 
the trenches above us. They're horrible looking cigar-like things, several feet 
long, and they explode with a terrific concussion and a cloud of thick, dirty 
black smoke. They mount very slowly and one can see their big shape as it 
wobbles up in a big arc over our lines. Woe to the man who isn't safely be 
yond one's reach when it suddenly drops. A French colonial regiment re 
lieved us this afternoon and we marched back to Gappy. Received letters 
which dear Mother and Rivers wrote after getting my address. Letters made 
me feel pretty blue, because they tell me I have really lost my U. S. citizenship 
by deserting as I did. Will I ever be able to get that back? 

En route for repose, March 30. 

Found Lydon in evening with two other American fellows, William Dugan 
and Christopher Charles, who are in Second Battalion with Joe. Dugan is 
from Rochester and Charles hails from old Brooklyn. . . . 

March 31. 

Our Captain is a pig-headed German Alsatian. No one likes him, and it 
doesn't look as though he really was in love with anyone, including himself. 
Our Adjutant is one of the most gentlemanly French officers I have ever met. 
Le Farver is his name. He speaks broken English, and today presented me 
with an English-French pocket translation book. He seems mighty nice. 

Hangest, April 2. 

Had a jolly little wine party with Joe and the other fellows tonight. There 
were two other mighty decent American fellows in the other battalion who are 


Harvard graduates. The best one is Victor Chapman, and the other's name 
is Farnsworth. Chapman is mighty clean and straight. Farnsworth has 
quite a thrilling history. He ran away from home after college days, went to 
Australia, was later on both sides of the Mexican troubles, in the late Balkan 
war, and now here since the war commenced. 

April 5. 

All in company feel delighted tonight over the news that our much disliked 
Captain leaves us for good tomorrow. He has been found to be pro-German 
in some way, and is being excused from further service. That's the report. 

April 7. 

Our old Captain took his leave today, and no tears were seen to fall on 
account of it. 

April 8. 

Our new Captain arrived today. He's only a Lieutenant but is acting as 
our Captain. Lieut. John is his name, and he's barely twenty-five and mighty 
nice. We all liked him on first sight. 

Friday, April 9. 

Another report is circulating that we are destined to go to Turkey soon. 
I wouldn't mind that at all. I got pretty nearly soused tonight with the fel 
lows at a little cafe. Every time I get in any way under the influence of wine 
I think everything is uproariously funny and just laugh and laugh all the time. 
I made quite a sensation when I got back to my section and laughed myself 
to sleep. I got the entire section laughing with me. 

April 19. 

Got one of my fingers jammed in playing baseball this morning, so went to 
the infirmary to get it fixed up. Just as I was leaving there, in marched a 
big bunch of new troops from La Valbonne to join us, and among the first I 
saw were Dave Wheeler and Elkington and Calstrom, a Canadian who joined 
with Elkington. Both surprised and very much delighted to see them, 
particularly Wheeler. They are in the Third Company of my battalion, so 
we'll be pretty near each other. . . . 

Bouillancourt, May 6. 

Had rather a pleasing manoeuvre of battalion through woods this morning. 
Spring flowers are everywhere in beautiful abundance, particularly violets 
in huge purple and white clusters. Had a feed with Wheeler in one of the 
cafes this evening, followed by delightful stroll through the woods. The 
sunset was glorious and inspiring. 

May 8. 

Bathed and washed clothes. . . . It's hard to keep comfortable and clean 
through this hot weather while marching all the time. All wildly excited 
over report which came in today's papers of the torpedoing of the Lusitania 
by a German submarine off the Irish coast. About a hundred American 
lives lost and most of them very prominent ones. What will our Government 
do now? Surely there will be immediate war. 


May 9. 

Feel greatly excited over the affair of the Lusitania. Wrote to the U. S. 
Ambassador at Paris asking if I could secure my release here in case the 
States did declare war on Germany, and return to fight for my own dear 
country. If I can get released in case of war (and war will surely result from 
this piece of great insolence) I'll go back in spite of my being a deserter. 
They surely would give me a chance to win back my honor in wartime. 

May 10. 

It looks very much now as if Italy will join the Entente against the Central 
Alliance, in spite of the fact that she is one of the Triple Alliance. What is 
the United States doing now in regard to relations with those cursed Huns? 
Surely it means war, although the newspapers are very vague. . . . 

* * * 

Remaugies, May 16. 

Attended 8:30 Mass at the little village church with Wheeler and Ester. 
Was quite crowded. It's quite noticeable how many of the soldiers and 
officers as well attend Mass at the front, like this, when we get a chance. 
Religion among the men is accentuated in war times. We feel the nearness 
and the protection of God and His great love. Here within sound and reach 
of the enemy's guns, the worship of God is most likely greater, more intense 
and sincere than where danger is less and unfelt. Big cannon along the line 
have been booming loudly all day. It sounds ominous, aweing, grim. . . . 
Going to church has made me feel melancholy and sort of homesick. . . . Will 
I ever see the dear old U. S. again? Well, cheer up, old scout; why let it worry 
you? God surely knows best. You're fighting in a righteous cause. 

Tilloloy, May 17. 

Left Bus at 5 :30. Marched through heavily wooded and picturesque coun 
try, woods traversed by many lines of reserve trenches and fortification, hidden 
battery emplacements on all hands, neatly constructed underground camps 
for the men of each battery everything perfectly organized and seeming 
impenetrable. We came out into the beautiful grounds of the Chateau of 
Tilloloy, now a pitiable mass of shattered ruins, with a beautiful little chapel 
beside it all shot to pieces. The lawns are all ugly deep shell holes, the once 
magnificent garden is terribly demolished, and the little town is a mass of 
tumbledown houses. How pitiable such destruction is ! East of us is a tiny 
village held by the Germans. It is in ruins like this, and they say it's all 
undermined by the French. The place is shelled nearly all the time by the 
German light batteries. Two or three soldiers were killed up near the church. 
They were buried in rough wooden coffins side by side before we marched 
out here. 

Tilloloy, May 19. 

Got feeling sort of blue today, simply thinking of dear little Mother's fine 
cakes and cooking. Strange things make us sad, don't they? All the same 
I'd love to have one of her delicious chocolate layer cakes right here! 


May 24. 

Reply came from the U. S. Embassy giving me little information and less 
hope of securing my release here should the U. S. enter the war. It certainly 
doesn't look, by the weak way Wilson is acting, that we will declare open 
hostilities at all. Italy came triumphantly into the war today, severing her 
old alliance with the Central Powers. Hurrah for the Dagoes!!! I found 
twenty-seven four-leaf clovers this morning. 

May 26. 

The Germans attacked our lines last night amid a glorious bombardment, 
but were completely repulsed. The crack, crack of the machine gun fire was 
incessant. We were all on the alert to go out in case they broke through. 
That's the excitement I like. 

May 27. 

Out digging trenches. Germans shelled us with a captured soixante-quinze. 
Saw Wheeler and Victor Chapman a while this evening. I like Chapman. 
He's a mighty clean, straight sort of chap. Another American ship was 
torpedoed by a German submarine. This time it was a merchant vessel. 
What now? Another note from our courageous President? It's sickening. 

Trenches, June 1. 

The Germans opened the month by giving us a terrific bombardment, but 
they were shelling Tilloloy particularly the hospital where the First Company 
is located and the little village where the Ninety-second is posted. They 
blew up two huge mines here, which must have killed scores. We all sat on 
top of the trenches and enjoyed the hell. Five or eight shells were exploding 
every second up at the hospital. Several of the First Company were wounded 
and killed. The Italians in the regiment all left this morning to go to 
Italy and fight in their own ranks. There were over seven hundred of 
them, and as three left our little squad we are very short-handed now for guard 
duty. . . . 

Trenches, June 11. 

Came out in the midst of a heavy downpour of rain and arrived to find 
the trenches are simply waist-deep in mud and water. Our little cave is 
nearly flooded and the water keeps rushing in. I tried to wade through the 
trench and sank to my waist in water and ooze. This is war! News came 
today that Mr. William Jennings Bryan, our choice Secretary of State, has 
at last resigned. We may have war with Germany yet, if Wilson makes good 
at last, now that he isn't influenced by peaceful Willy Bryan. 

Trenches, June 12. 

Got mighty little sleep last night, and labored all day trying to bale out the 
trenches. It was hopeless work. We used our soup pails to bale with, then 
we got the soup with them and afterwards continued baling. C'est la guerre. 
Am soaked through and through and encased in slime. It's perfectly lovely. 
Two or three were shot this morning by getting too much in sight while clean 
ing the trenches, and our Second Lieutenant was wounded badly last night 


by an exploding shell. We could hear the Germans pumping the water out 
of their muddy streams, so it's some consolation to know they are as bad 
off as we are. 

Bus, June 14. 

This is U. S. Flag Day, so I've hung up my little silk American flag over my 
tent. With Wheeler this evening and he shared some chocolate and cigarettes 
with me. He's a brick. . . . 

C. Monchel, June 28. 

Left Bus and marched amid songs and whistlings. As we left Mondidier 
and took the Paris road west, the poor fellows who trudged all the way out 
from Paris in November up to the Somme front went wild with joy, thinking 
our destination was Paris, but no such luck for the Legion. French regiments 
may see Paris before the end of the war, but never the bloody Legion Btrangere. 
The population of Mondidier stared at us in awe without a cheery word when 
they learned who we were. Most French have a horror of legionnaires. They 
think they're wild animals and heathen. 

Fresnoy, July 3. 

Have just been told that all Americans in the regiment are to leave tomorrow 
for Paris to have four days' leave there. Hurrah! hurrah! That's fine! 
Why, we'll be in clover. It's the greatest news yet. I'm all excited. 

July 4. 

Up early and fixed everything to leave for Paris. Found out after twelve 
o'clock that we don't go till tomorrow. Mighty disappointing for all of us. 
I'm broke and so is Lydon. We'll get some money in Paris, someway; prob 
ably the Consul will be the best one to go to for that. With Dugan, Lydon, 
Chapman, Farnsworth and the rest all evening. Last Fourth of July I 
spent at Vera Cruz with the Navy. 

July 5. 

Packed up again, and then found out we've been duped once again. Can't 
go today, but we've all seen the Commandant of the Second Battalion, who's 
a pretty good old scout, and declares he has arranged with the Colonel that 
we surely are to leave en masse tomorrow. We'll have only forty-eight hours 
in Paris, though, but it will be a holiday, anyway. We are all thoroughly 
disgusted with the Colonel's idiocy. 

Paris, July 6. 

We left, twenty-nine in all; walked to Hangest, where Chapman and Farns 
worth got hold of an old farmer with a big hay cart and we all piled on and 
drove, in hilarious glee to Hargicourt and took train there. Everybody in jubi 
lant spirits on the way in. Got here at 9 :30 tonight and it sure is good to be in 
Paris once again. Joe Lydon and I being broke, we've taken advantage of the 
free and decidedly comfortable beds and supper in the dandy canteen which 
the British Red Cross has here in the basement of the Gare du Nord, and we'll 
have one fine sleep tonight. The people here particularly the ladies 
are mighty nice and agreeable. They can't quite conceive of an American being 


in the service of the French. It strikes me as very funny of them to think 
that. Why shouldn't we? 

Paris, July 7. 

Lydon and I walked the city nearly all day, taking in the sights. We tried 
to get some money from the Consul-General, but whoever we saw there was 
most disagreeable to us, treated us as though we were vagabonds, and we took 
our leave in genuine disgust. We managed to get a few francs from some 
American gentleman to whom we were directed by a young woman in the Con 
sulate, who was quite cordial to us. ... We're too low in funds to risk a 
hotel, so it's the British canteen again tonight. They are mighty pleasant to 
us here, though, so we shouldn't worry. 

July 8. 

At eleven o'clock we met eight of the other fellows and went up to the Em 
bassy where, in behalf of us all, Mr. Chapman, Victor's father, thanked the 
Ambassador, Mr. Sharp, for getting us in here for the little vacation. The 
Ambassador seemed very pleased and hoped we would all come out of the war 
with whole, sound bodies. Some gentleman who was there gave us fifty francs 
with which to buy tobacco, and we divided it around amongst us all. It's 
helped Joe and me to have a good feed this noon, and some fun this afternoon. 
After leaving the Embassy, Mr. Chapman took us all down in taxis to a photog 
rapher's shop and had our pictures taken, bought us all excellent cigars, and 
was perfectly fine to us. A photo is to go to each of us, and some of us are 
letting him send ours home for us. I gave him dear little Mother's address. I 
know it will make her happy to get that. I knew the hotel where Mrs. Wheeler 
is staying, and went round with Joe and surprised her. She was delighted and 
had lots of questions to ask about Dave, who, unfortunate fellow, somehow 
was not notified to come in with us, as his company was out on the second line. 
It's rotten luck for him, for I know how disappointed his wife was not to see 
him with us. 

Fresnoy, July 12. 

Everybody up early, preparing to depart. About noon, the entire de marche 
was assembled and our Colonel, who has left us with our Commandant and all the 
French officers, to join French regiments, gave us a mighty nice farewell ad 
dress, shaking hands with all our remaining officers. We cheered him heartily 
when he had finished. The most affecting leave-taking, though, was with 
our Commandant. He shed tears as he finished his little farewell talk in 
which he spoke of those who had fallen at Frise, Cappy and Tilloloy, and 
he ended by crying out " Vive la France!" We all responded with a thunder 
ing cheer. 

At two o'clock we marched out of Fresnoy to the music of our drums and 
bugles. The Colonel and Commandant shook many of us by the hand as we 
swung past them. Just before leaving, the mail was distributed. Before we 
left, it was raining and our bread got nicely soaked. We hauled out for the 
South, passing through our old friend, Mondidier. 


July 14. 

France's Independence Day, but we couldn't join in the celebration. We 
passed round Paris last night. All along the route we sang and cheered from 
the tops of the cars and all round them. We reached Belfort, France's big 
eastern city, which held out against the Germans in 1914, and then went on to 

* * * 

Plancher-Bas, July 18. 

The people here are very nice, far more agreeable than we found in the 
North Central around Mondidier and Hangest. The country here is beautiful 
and very peaceful to the eye. Cherries are so plentiful that I've made a sort of 
dessert of them each meal. . . . 

August 3. 

Drill and inspection. Our First Lieutenant, Belboze, praised very highly the 
way I keep my rifle, before all my section, which is very pleasing. 

August 9. 

Wrote to Mr. Guerquin, asking him what I can do about trying to get trans 
ferred to the American Volunteer Aviation Corps, to which I understand Vic 
tor Chapman has lately changed. It has been instigated by Norman Prince 
and several other American fellows. I'd write to Prince if I knew his address. 

August 11. 

If I can only secure a transfer to our volunteer aerial corps, like Chapman, 
I'll be mightily pleased. There's a big future in aviation, and it will help me 
lots in the States, and would mean heaps more individuality for me over here 
in the service. 

August 12. 

Saw Dugan and the photograph which Mr. Chapman had taken of us all in 
Paris last month. It's good of us all. I'm becoming rather weary of this 
repose we're having. I'd be better satisfied were I seeing more of the active 

August 13. 

Wrote a short story for Life's Short Story Contest, which if accepted will 
realize me $131.10 and will also be in competition for a $1,000 prize. 

August 15. 

Attended service at the church in Plancher-les-Mines with Ester. Enjoyed 
the service greatly. It's good to be able to go to even a Catholic church. 
Why worry about the denomination of a church, anyway? All churches are 
the houses of God, wherein true Christians are free to worship. 

* * * 

September 2. 

Orders came today that all Americans could change into a French regiment. 
I immediately put in demand to change to the American Volunteer Aviator 
Corps. Battalion commander sent for me to ask what French regiment I 


would go to if I can't get into aviation. After consulting with Wheeler, 
decided to stick it out with Legion, in that case. 

September 16. 

Entrained at Champagne for Chalons-sur-Marne. Took northern line after 
leaving Chaumont. Detrained and marched to place of mobilization. Get 
ting up in that section ought to bring us into some good fighting. 

September 20. 

Heavy cannonading here practically all the time. Big guns. One beautiful 
night with fine half-moon. Out all night digging trenches. Expect we'll 
make an attack in a week or so. Eight months today since I sailed from little 
old New York. 

September 21. 

Fixed belongings for attack. All given bath and shave and washed clothes, 
to be clean for attack. All received metal helmets to protect head from bullets. 
Like German helmets only without spike at top. 

September 22. 
Heavy bombardment by French all night and day. Wrote farewell letters 

to and Mother. God grant they'll not be my last to them. 

September 23. 

Attackwill come tomorrow or Saturday. God grant that I make good at it, 
and get through alive and well. 

September 24. 

Allies, English, French, Russians, Belgians, are all going to make one grand, 
big attack everywhere along the line early tomorrow. God grant them all 
success and bring this awful conflict to a speedy close. 

September 25. 

Left camp at 2 P.M. ; marched to rear of first line. Attack began about 9 A.M. 
Regiment not in charge, but in first reserves. Attack successful. Out on 
field afterward. Sight of German prisoners and wounded sickening. God! 
what a hell war is, anyway! Restored captured trenches in early P.M. Then, 
under heavy shell-fire, we pushed the Germans back until 6 o'clock, when both 
sides entrenched because of darkness. Battlefield a horrible sight of mingled 
dead and wounded. 

September 26. 

After practically sleepless night, in rain and wind, we changed our position 
before dawn. Fight started up very early. In reserve all morning. God! 
what an experience this is being to me! Nothing much to eat. Partially 
cleared by noon. Under extremely heavy shell fire all afternoon. Our best 
officer, Lieutenant Ostrade, was killed by a shell during counter-attack by 
Germans about 6 P.M. Again and again I thought my end had come. Ger 
man attack failed after an awful carnage by mitrailleuse fire. Rain again by 
night. Had to go out two miles after dark for food. 

September 27. 

Under shell fire all P.M. Saw Dave and found he was O.K. A bunch of 


men have been lost these last three days. Heavy counter attack by Germans 
repulsed after two hours' fighting in late P.M. 

September 28. 

Nothing doing until four P.M., when regiment was called out to make 
attack. Advanced under terrific fire of mitrailleuse, and by time we were 
starting to leave our own lines there were too few left to continue. Attack a 
failure, and only fifty left of us. Almost all the officers were killed. Got 
through unhurt. Wheeler and Elkington wounded. Carried wounded back 
late last night. Regiment all broken up. God! What is coming next? 

September 29. 

Farnsworth the only American killed thus far. Sure feel mighty well 
played out after all the horror and bombardment we've been through the last 
five days. Third and Fourth companies one, now. 

October 1. 

Spent morning getting German relics of war from German lines which were 
taken last Saturday. The dead are just beginning to be buried. Field 
d? affair a morbid sight. 

October 26. 

Marched about twelve kilometres to where the whole Army corps and 
Moroccaine Division was reviewed by President Poincare, King George of 
England (some honor to be reviewed by King of Great Britain!), General 
Joffre, and a lot of other big Generals; Prince of Wales and General French 
also there. Flag of Stranger presented with Cross of War. Other medals 
presented for bravery in last actions we've been through. 

* * * 

April 28, 1916. 

The Aviation corps is my one hope of happiness in these next months 
of war. . . . 

May 29. 

Received orders to change into aviation tomorrow. Thank God! Am in 
the seventh heaven of delight. 

May 30. 

Bid good bye to Legion in early A.M. with Chatkoff, who is transferring, 
too, and set off with merry hearts for the Aviation Termination at Dijon. 
Got off train at Noisy-le-Sec and managed to get to Paris late in evening. 
Everybody in bed. Got rooms in Roosevelt Hotel and turned in. We'll 
take train at same place when it passes tomorrow. Just had to surprise the 
folks in Paris. 

May 31. 

Jolly dinner with Dave and Mrs. Wheeler, Paul Rockwell and Mrs. Weeks. 
Left Paris at 2:30, made our way to Noisy-le-Sec, and got train at 6 P.M. 
Lucky to get out of Paris without being questioned for our papers. 

And so, "with merry heart," toward the last adventure and 
the Unknown Dimension. 



FOR the first century of our national life, the majority of Amer 
icans thought about foreign trade when they thought of it at all 
in much the same way as they thought about taking out a life 
insurance policy or joining the church. It was to them a matter 
to be put off until the last moment, when they might be in ex 
tremity. Only the very exceptional person visualized the truth, 
that his moral status in the community and some sort of defense 
against want for the dear ones he left behind were questions 
meriting careful consideration some time before the extreme 
moment should arrive. In the matter of life insurance at least 
we seem to have had a change of heart and mind. As to church 
membership that is another story. During the last quarter of a 
century, our national attitude toward foreign trade also seems to 
have experienced a right-about-face. Most of us (not all yet) 
now realize that overseas markets cannot be gained by sitting 
down at home, and waiting, Micawber-like, for something to turn 
up. They must be sought and captured. 

As far back as the first year of the century, President Mc- 
Kinley, speaking at the Pan-American Exposition at Buffalo, sur 
prised the American business world by announcing that our 
period of isolation was over, and that, in order to maintain what 
we had, we must thenceforth sell and buy in all of the markets of 
the world. Some of us believed him then. Most of us do now. 
Even those who do not see the immediate necessity for foreign 
trade will agree that it will be wise for us to stake out a claim for 
the future, before other nations and peoples occupy the field to 
our exclusion. 

Today no one denies that the potential capacity of American 
manufacturing industries far exceeds the demands of the Ameri 
can market. The importance of efforts to secure profitable 
markets abroad, moreover, may be measured not only by the 
direct profits therein, but by the steadying influence which 


foreign sales exert on domestic living standards. Prosperity is 
never constant. Eventually, there will be a sag in the line. We 
have our " booms" and "slumps". A carefully planned export 
programme, however, has been found to be a practical insurance 
policy to check the extent and rapidity of the downward slide 
when it conies. Whenever domestic selling is "meeting the 
bumps", sales abroad are a great steadier. Not only during dull 
periods and hard times, but when seasonal inequalities trouble us, 
export markets form an excellent shock absorber for many 
branches of our industry. This means not only the big concerns 
and interests but the shippers and small manufacturers, thus 
spreading out more evenly the general well being. Foreign trade 
is a stabilizer of our national prosperity. A healthfully expand 
ing trade with the rest of the world makes our prosperity flow 
more evenly. 

It is not very many years since more than half of the exports of 
the United States were raw products, chiefly foodstuffs. By the 
middle of 1924, this proportion had fallen to about one-fourth of 
the total. Fabricated products, goods made in our mills and 
factories, had increased to more than sixty per cent. How to 
dispose of our surplus, so that we may assure a stability in our 
industrial life and reduce business slumps, that is the question. 

Secretary Hoover has demonstrated that if we are to sell 
abroad, we must also buy abroad, and that a real exchange of 
goods is the final and inevitable method of settling international 
balances. The Department of Commerce does not attempt to 
promote the importation of commodities which we produce at 
home in sufficient quantities to meet our own needs. But it 
does aim to develop trade in what may be called noncompetitive 
products, which are really the raw materials for our industry, and 
which we must get from abroad just because we do not produce 
them at home. 

The foreign service of the Department of Commerce is carried 
on under a section known as the Bureau of Foreign and Domestic 
Commerce. This has developed out of the small bureau author 
ized by Congress as far back as 1820, when the Secretary of the 
Treasury was instructed, through his Division of Commerce and 
Navigation, to "collect and publish statistics of foreign com- 


merce". Congress recognized the value of the work done by this 
Bureau of Statistics in the Treasury, and on various occasions 
enlarged and extended its activities. In the mean time, a 
Statistical Office in the State Department (authorized by law in 
1842) had also become a Bureau of Statistics. 

In 1880, the monthly Consular Reports began to appear, with 
information of value to business men interested in world markets. 
Eight years later, an Act of Congress instructed Consuls to 
furnish to the Secretary of the Treasury "regular reports, as to 
quantities and values of merchandise exported to the United 
States" from the countries in which they were stationed. In 
1897, this Bureau of Statistics became the Bureau of Foreign 
Commerce. The next year, the Daily Consular Reports were 
begun. In 1903, Congress transferred the Bureau of Foreign 
Commerce to the newly created Department of Commerce and 
Labor, amalgamating with it the Bureau of Statistics from the 
State Department, and forming the Bureau of Statistics of the 
Department of Commerce. At the same time, a Bureau of Man 
ufactures was established, "to foster, promote and develop the 
manufacturing industries of the United States". Two years 
later, Congress authorized the appointment of Special Agents to 
investigate trade conditions abroad. This brings the story down 
to August, 1912, when a law was enacted consolidating the 
Bureau of Manufactures and the Bureau of Statistics into the 
Bureau of Foreign and Domestic Commerce in the Department 
of Commerce. 

For more than twenty -one years the foreign commerce service 
of the Department of Commerce has been developing markets 
abroad for the products of American manufacturers and farmers. 
In general, the purpose has been to correct a situation thus 
described by John M. Carson, Chief of the Bureau of Manufac 
tures, in one of his earlier annual reports to the Secretary of 
Commerce and Labor: "The American business man is seeking 
foreign markets, but inexperience makes him enter upon the task 
somewhat vaguely." Before we can have a prosperous, whole 
some foreign trade, accurate, authoritative, and up-to-date in 
formation on financial conditions in foreign countries is needed 
by the American business world. Before the Great War, our 


problem was, Can we discover a need for our goods abroad? 
Today this problem has been solved. We know the need. We 
are now faced with the question, How can the purchase of these 
goods be financed? In order to answer this, we must know about 
all developments legislative or other which in any way may 
affect the purchasing power of our customers abroad. 

The foreign trade service of the United States began in 1905 
with four itinerant scouts, working under a Congressional appro 
priation of $30,000. Last year (1926) it had forty-six foreign 
offices, with an American personnel of one hundred and thirty, 
and with $3,000,000 to spend on promoting American business 
abroad. During the first nine years of this foreign information 
service commercial investigation abroad was carried on by trav 
elling agents. Just a month before the outbreak of the World 
War, Commercial Attaches were stationed at certain points 
abroad under a special appropriation of $100,000. Ten attaches 
were appointed under this authorization and stationed in London, 
Berlin, Paris, Buenos Aires, Peking, St. Petersburg, Rio de 
Janeiro, Lima, Santiago and Melbourne. These men took over 
all of the functions which had been handled by the Special 
Agents already mentioned, and in addition became the commer 
cial advisers to the embassies or legations to which they were 
attached. Soon after this, additional officers known as Trade 
Commissioners were appointed for similar work abroad. These 
men were assigned to make commercial surveys of entire coun 
tries or to report on specific industries, rather than to remain at 
the capitals as did the Commercial Attaches. 

From this beginning the list of Commercial Attaches, Trade 
Commissioners, and Assistant Trade Commissioners has in 
creased until such officers are now located in forty -four cities in 
thirty -six countries in all parts of the world. These permanent 
foreign offices are in charge of business men and economists 
thoroughly acquainted with commercial conditions in their terri 
tory. Information not available in the Washington headquarters 
of the Bureau can be obtained from them. American business 
men travelling abroad may call upon them for assistance and ad 
vice. Where difficulties arise in commercial transactions, they 
frequently can be of service in investigating and advising the best 

VOL. ccxxiv. NO. 835 19 


methods to be followed in seeking adjustments. The officers 
receive price lists and catalogues, which are placed on display in 
their reception rooms, but they do not handle samples. They 
play no favorites. 

As soon as Commodity Divisions were established the special 
travelling investigators were no longer appointed. Occasionally, 
on the initiative of trade associations, experts were sent into the 
foreign field to make special inquiries. Since 1921 the work of 
these investigators has been consolidated with that of the per 
manent offices abroad, although at the big posts, such as London, 
Paris and Berlin, there are specialists who look after definite fields. 

Obviously the field men of the Department of Commerce could 
not perform the service they do perform unless directed and 
backed up by an organization in Washington, promptly respon 
sive to the needs and desires of American business life. This 
brings us to what has been called the Hoover trade formula, a 
mobile, flexible programme of exports and imports to stabilize 
both agriculture and industry. An engineer and business man, 
with a wide and long international experience, upon taking over 
the portfolio of Commerce, Mr. Hoover set out to obtain and use 
facts; to serve business, not to harass it; to change the attitude of 
Government toward business from that of interference to that of 
cooperation. Such was the motive behind the reorganization of 
the bureaus of the Department of Commerce, undertaken by Mr. 
Hoover in 1921, soon after he entered the Cabinet. 

The result of accompanying regulation and restriction with 
services and promotion was an impulse to and a betterment of 
Government activity hardly paralleled in our history. In the 
space of a few months, the Department of Commerce was trans 
ferred into a genuine service agency, and the transformation was 
accomplished with the assistance and close cooperation of the in 
dustrial community at large. The reorganization was marked 
with noteworthy success in the Bureau of Foreign and Domestic 
Commerce. After frequent conferences with foreign trade groups 
and permanent committees from the different trades, a revision 
of the character of information sought from foreign countries was 
made, resulting in a broadening of the character of the work of the 
Bureau and in rendering more specific and timely its value to 


American industries. Twenty -two different Commodity and 
Technical Divisions were created, dealing with information con 
cerning specific trades and phases of foreign commerce, all or 
ganized in cooperation with industries concerned in the expansion 
of our export trade. 

These Commodity Divisions are in charge of men chosen by the 
trades themselves. They are experts with practical experience 
in the sale of their particular products abroad, who have first hand 
knowledge of the problems which confront American exporters in 
foreign markets. Each of these divisions keeps in close touch 
with the principal trade associations in its own particular field. 
The requests for information which are transmitted to the foreign 
offices are inspired by the needs of the trades themselves, through 
these Commodity Division chiefs. There are also Technical 
Divisions, dealing with commercial intelligence, commercial laws, 
domestic commerce, finance and investment, foreign tariffs, 
statistics and statistical research, transportation and communica 
tion. Finally there is a Division of Regional Information, which 
receives, classifies, and gives out the data received from the field, 
through the various publications of the Bureau. 

The field service of the Bureau of Foreign and Domestic Com 
merce puts a three-fold duty on its representatives abroad. They 
are, first of all, reporters of everything of any economic signifi 
cance which happens in the country to which they are appointed. 
They report facts, tendencies, laws, official utterances, statistics 
and policies, with such interpretative comment as may seem 
necessary or desirable, to the Bureau, which in turn relays the in 
formation to the American business world. At the same time the 
Department of Commerce sends a copy of what it receives to the 
Department of State, which in its turn sends to the Department 
of Commerce copies of the reports of its Consuls abroad. Some 
of these reports are prepared in response to requests from the 
home office; many on the initiative of the field man. 

Another task which takes up a large part of the field man's time 
is that of replying to requests for information and advice, either 
by letter or in personal calls, from business men. The gathering 
of information wherewith to reply to these letters of inquiry re 
quires much patience and industry. 


Finally, the third important phase of the work is that of assist 
ing and advising the Ambassador, Minister, Charge or Secretary, 
on all matters of an economic nature which come before the 
diplomatic mission for settlement. Such problems are constantly 
increasing, not only in number, but in the proportion they bear to 
the total of the activities of our American diplomatic posts 

The journal of a couple of typical days in the field will show the 
nature and scope of these services. Turning over the leaves of 
my own diary, and, at the same time, digging into the files, the 
weekly reports of my office, I find the following: 

Warsaw, April 17, 1920. 

Although yesterday was Sunday, and weather conditions were very alluring, 
I spent most of the day working at the Legation. At ten o'clock I had a 
meeting with the Charge d'Affaires over a cablegram regarding the plan of the 
Blank Trust to take over from the Polish Government the entire business of the 
remittances of money from American Poles. At 10:45 we received the repre 
sentative of the Blank Trust, and went over the matter with him. At eleven 
o'clock we hurried to the Ministry of Industry and Commerce, where, by ap 
pointment, we took part in a conference over the problem of simplifying busi 
ness procedure between the United States and Poland. The Minister and his 
aides were there, and we seemed to come to some conclusions. After lunch, 
Mr. Blank, representing the Blank Steamship Company, called at my lodgings 
with the necessary papers to be signed for the establishment of a service be 
tween New York and Dantzig. Later, I had a telephone message from Mr. 
Blank, President of the Polish Textile Union, who seemed very much excited 
at the failure of his concern to get sufficient raw material on credit from the 
United States. 

Bucharest, May 7, 1923. 

While I was in the midst of preparing a cablegram to the Bureau, about the 
affair of the Blank Tractors, held in the Custom House here, the Minister tele 
phoned, asking me to help him prepare a dispatch to the State Department 
which would recount a good deal of recent Rumanian history. 

Two newspaper men called at the office today, one from Chicago, and I cor 
rected a number of misapprehensions which seemed to be getting him into 
trouble with the Rumanian Foreign Office. 

The British Commercial Secretary wanted to know what we were doing to 
arrange the settlement of private merchants against Rumanian debtors. 

The Director of the Blank (American Oil) Company telephoned that he 
must talk with me over the new Rumanian mining law. 

Mr. Blank (General Director for Southeastern Europe of the Blank Type- 


writer Company) came in in a great state of excitement, asking our assistance 
in straightening out some trouble with his local representative. 

Finally, the agent of an American rubber company dropped in to announce 
that, due to our help, he had succeeded in collecting $3,000 which had been 
owing him. 

It looks as though we would be of assistance in helping the Blank Locomotive 
Works to collect their claim also. 

July 16, 1924. 

During the week there have been so many callers at the office that I am be 
ginning to feel like the physician who looks into his anteroom and always finds 
there at least a dozen patients waiting his attention. Our Minister is going to 
the United States next week, and our office has been rushed, getting up sum 
maries of political and economic conditions here, including a resume of the 
debts owing by the Government to foreign Governments and to private in 
dividuals, and the obligations of Rumanian men and firms to private citizens in 
other countries. 

Among those who called was Mr. Blank who wants to buy several vessels 
which he understands the Shipping Board is willing to sell. There was also a 
delegation of three or four representatives of American business firms who 
wanted me to intervene with the Rumanian Government so that they might 
use well known cable codes in their messages to the United States. This is 
now against the law. 

Vice-Consul Blank called, and I congratulated him on his report on the 
Rumanian walnut crop. Then there were a lot of others, some of whom 
wanted to engage in business here, and we advised them to keep off at present. 

The Department of Commerce does not expect its foreign 
service to limit its efforts to giving information regarding condi 
tions. Difficulties arise, and their adjustment offers a large field 
for Government service to importers and exporters. It is often 
highly desirable for the Government representative to make clear 
to American business men that the conduct of foreign buyers is 
quite in accordance with the business practices of their country, 
even when such conduct is perplexing to Americans. As a result 
of the World War, there were all sorts of combinations and shifts, 
all sorts of political, social, economic and legal changes in the new 
nations, that were bound to affect business. These peoples were 
developing new attitudes toward their resources. It was highly 
desirable for American business to know whether they could sup 
port themselves by what they produced at home, or whether they 
must import largely from abroad. If they needed substantial 


quantities of imports, how could our American shops and factories 
compete with those of other industrial nations? 

It would be out of place here to recount it has been done so 
many times before the manifold services of the Consul to Amer 
ican citizens abroad and in protecting American business already 
established. The promotion of American trade and the counsel 
ling of the Ambassador or Minister is, par excellence, the work of 
the Commercial Attache. The Consul deals with his own dis 
trict. The Attache surveys the entire field. The Consul pre 
pares lists, keeps records, and transmits texts of laws and transla 
tions of treaties. The Attache travels about his territory and 
observes, records and interprets tendencies, policies, legal trends 
and changing market conditions. The two services have quite 
distinct fields. One is engaged primarily in the protection and 
defense of American interests abroad, while the other is engaged 
in the promotion of trade, economic investigation, and the seeking 
of commercial intelligence that will be of service to our export and 
import trades. The cooperation of the two renders both services 
more effective. 

From the standpoint of personality, the Commercial Attache 
must be a picked man. He must be at one and the same time 
economist, diplomat, author, banker, linguist, business man, 
general mixer, with at least some of the social graces, trade 
adviser, and soother of ruffled feelings. You cannot make a 
Commercial Attache by rule of thumb. The secret of success 
with him lies rather with personal and individual qualities, 
"clear intellect, balanced imagination, and earnestness of pur 
pose". To discover potential markets for American manufac 
tured goods, is one of the most fascinating and useful tasks of the 
Commercial Attache. This breaking of new ground, indeed, is 
one of the highest functions of the office. If one has vision and 
what has been called informed imagination to grasp the situation 
clearly and fully, and perceive future possibilities, the opportuni 
ties are really boundless. 

Commercial Attaches now have an official status and a rank in 
all activities of the legation. This fact is of considerable help in 
the work in approaching officials of foreign Governments and 
private business interests of foreign countries. Abroad, the 


terms "official" and "diplomatic", whether applied to a person, 
an act or a passport, have a particularly ingratiating and at the 
same time dignified significance, quite lacking in the United 

Business men generally as well as Secretaries of Commerce have 
long realized that the foreign service of the Department of Com 
merce has not been on a proper administrative basis. It has 
lacked a definite legislative status, having its authorization only 
in certain general phrases included in appropriation bills. There 
was a general law, to be sure, the original act creating the De 
partment of Commerce, authorizing the Secretary to "pro 
mote" the overseas commerce of the United States. But such 
wording in an appropriation measure might not prevent the 
abolition of the service if the Appropriations Committee should 
be unfavorably minded. While Congress has always been well 
disposed to the foreign trade promotion work of the Department 
of Commerce, it has, nevertheless, been felt that a firm and recog 
nized standing in law was necessary. Several years ago, the 
Department of State had its foreign service regularized and mod 
ernized through the Rogers Bill. It was necessary, according to 
business judgment, to do the same with the foreign service of 
the Department of Commerce. 

By the terms of the Hoch Act (so named because Congressman 
Hoch, of Kansas, was chiefly instrumental in piloting the measure 
through the House) , this service is now placed on a regular statu 
tory basis. The new law, which was signed by the President on 
March 3, and went into effect immediately, establishes the 
"Foreign Service in the Bureau of Foreign and Domestic Com 
merce, in the Department of Commerce." It provides for four 
grades of foreign service officers and clerks, the number of which 
is to be fixed by the Secretary. These officers are to be known as 
Commercial Attaches, Assistant Commercial Attaches, Trade 
Commissioners, and Assistant Trade Commissioners, with sal 
aries fixed by law. These officers are to be charged with the 
duties of promoting the foreign commerce of the United States; 
investigating and reporting upon commercial and industrial con 
ditions and activities, in foreign countries, which may be of in 
terest to the United States; and performing such other duties as 


the Secretary may direct, in connection with the promotion of the 
industries, trade or commerce of the United States. It is pro 
vided that these officers shall be appointed by the Secretary of 
Commerce, through the Department of State, and that they shall 
be regularly and officially attached to the diplomatic missions of 
the United States in the countries in which they are stationed. 
Such officers shall have diplomatic standing, but shall not be con 
sidered as "having the character of a public minister". Other 
but important provisions of the new law remedy certain weak 
nesses and injustices which have heretofore retarded the service. 

To sum up, the Bureau of Foreign and Domestic Commerce can 
now legally send out its expert trade representatives to any of the 
markets of the world, to investigate officially into the possibilities 
for American business, and to receive, from the representatives of 
other government departments, recognition of its agents when on 
such missions. The Commercial Attaches and Trade Com 
missioners, at their posts all over the world, watch the economic 
development of the countries in which they are stationed and 
send a constant stream of letters, reports, and cablegrams to 
Washington. This information is classified and organized and 
sent out through the press and the publications of the Bureau it 
self, to business men all over the country. To assist in this dis 
tribution, the Bureau maintains a series of district offices in the 
United States in fifty-one different cities and towns. What was 
formerly an undigested, haphazard stream of data is now an or 
ganized and directed service. Today American business can 
follow the state of foreign markets almost as readily and satis 
factorily as that of the domestic markets. 

By the acid test of dollars and cents, the Commercial Attache 
service has paid very satisfactory dividends. The Director of the 
Bureau (in his report to the Secretary, for the year 1925-1926) 
states that the business known to have accrued to American ex 
porters and importers as a result of the work of the service was 
more than $33,000,000. The taxpayer spent $1,200,000 to 
support this service. His dividend, therefore, was highly 



WHEN advocating the universal brotherhood of man as the 
summum bonum of all human endeavor, the majority of English 
and American writers proceed on the assumption that this ideal 
is to be accomplished under the tutelage of the white race. At 
the same time they point out that, if the white race is to hold its 
dominant position in the world, it must take drastic measures to 
arrest race suicide, which they affirm is rapidly reaching alarming 

While history seems to show that the goal, at which mankind is 
consciously or unconsciously aiming, is a world-wide unification, 
it by no means follows that this unity is to be brought about 
wholly through the white race. Such an assumption seems un 
warranted when it is observed that, even among the English- 
speaking peoples, a difference of accent alone is a potent cause of 
irritation and estrangement, while differences in race and lan 
guage cause so wide a breach between the white and the dark 
races that it cannot be bridged at all. 

Proceeding on the opposite assumption, that the white race will 
not be successful in its endeavor to abort race suicide and main 
tain its dominant position an assumption which is as justifiable 
as the other the object of this treatise is to point out the prob 
able course which history will take in the centuries to come. 
And such speculation is not altogether idle, for if the conclusions 
which we reach seem in the remotest degree justifiable, it should 
serve to make the white race more tolerant of the darker races, 
which in itself is an end to be desired, even if we are looking 
to a world peace in the immediate future only. 

There are almost as many theories of history as there are his 
torians. There is first the naive and very ancient theory that 
the gods have foreordained whatsoever comes to pass. Almost 
as naive is the stock-breeder's view, that advance in culture is 
due to race. This view simply assumes that the white race, to 


take his favorite example, has by its very nature a greater 
capacity for upward progress than the yellow, brown, or black 
race. In other words, the whites are the favorites of the gods, 
the chosen people. It is still to be proved, however, that a white 
skin provides a better receptacle for heavenly gifts than a black 
one, but the point may be conceded to the stock-breeder, that 
the stocks which have made history are those which have con 
served their vitality and adaptability, and by their taboos, ex- 
clusiveness, and pride have prevented that over-hybridization 
which in the long run leads to decadence. To say that the 
Nordic race was possessed of a higher capacity for civilization 
than any other modern stock is to leave out the significant fact 
that the Nordics came early in contact with Mediterranean 
culture which they partly assimilated, and by rejuvenating it 
with fresh energy were able to make further progress in some 
respects than their teachers. But if the Nordics in the early 
migrations had met only peoples as barbarous as themselves, 
there is no reason to suppose that they would have made the 
phenomenal progress of which they are so proud today. "Pre 
cisely," says the geographical historian, "but the configuration of 
Asia and Europe and the routes of travel are such that the 
Nordics were compelled to move southward into Greece and 
Italy. Therefore the first cause of historical achievement is to 
be found in the configuration of the earth, the position of moun 
tains and forests, the natural routes of travel, climatic conditions 
and so forth." This view explains a great many things once 
migrations have started, but it does not explain what started 
migrations in the first place. An attempt has been made to 
explain the origin of migrations by asserting that certain parts 
of Asia became periodically desiccated, and so, periodically, the 
inhabitants came westward in the waves of migration which swept 
over Europe in historical times. In answer to this explanation 
it may be pointed out that great masses of mankind have re 
mained static, and have perished amid the desiccation of their 
native habitat, and it should also be noted that great migrations 
have taken place in tropical countries which cannot be explained 
by desiccation. In rebuttal of the whole environment theory of 
history we may cite the case of Japan. The Japanese have been 


living in the same environment for centuries, yet it is only in the 
course of the last few years that they have sprung to the front 
of civilized nations. It is the mind of the Japanese which has 
brought about the recent transformation in their culture. On 
the other hand the lower animals have enjoyed the same environ 
ment as mankind from time immemorial but they have not pro 
gressed to civilization. Man may have learnt from bears to live 
in caves, but bears have not learnt from man the art of masonry. 

Then we have the hero-worshipper who ascribes our advance 
ment in culture mainly to the agency of the individual. Accord 
ing to this view an Alexander, a Caesar, or a Napoleon is the 
maker of history, the masses are but lifeless clay in the hands 
of the potter, while environment and every other factor are sub 
servient to his overmastering will. Here it may be sufficient to 
point out that for centuries the Romans made a considerable 
amount of history with inefficient generals and mediocre states 

Still another view is the technological, which maintains that 
man's upward progress depends on his tools. As in the previous 
case the real factor is not the tool but the mind which designs 
or uses it. If the operator has not a certain amount of intelli 
gence behind the tool, he may only succeed in destroying himself. 

Again there is the cynical or economic view, which holds that 
man's behavior springs from the belief that it is more blessed 
to receive than to give. Thus the predominant motive of the 
British people in building the British Empire is their desire to 
snatch bargains from the benighted heathen. And yet such a 
philosophical people as the Germans claim that the British Em 
pire is not the result of a settled and constructive policy. It is 
but a chapter of accidents. It just growed like Topsy. 

And so we might take one theory of history after another and 
show that each merely gives one or more of the conditions which 
have helped men to do the things they have done, or prevented 
them from doing those things which they have left undone. The 
question still remains. What is it that has driven men to make 
history, to do what they have done and to be what they have 
become? The answer to a question so fundamental must be 
sought in the conduct of the earliest men, and if we cannot be 


said to have precise knowledge of primordial man's behavior 
and attitude of mind, a working hypothesis will be worth while, 
even if, like the theory of evolution, it cannot be proved, yet 
accounts for the facts so far as we know them. Adopting then 
the hypothesis of evolution that man is descended from an ape 
like ancestor, a study of the habits of the Anthropoids and of 
the conditions under which our ape-like ancestors must have 
developed into man, may perhaps reveal to us a working hypothe 
sis which will explain much of man's subsequent behavior in 
historical times. 

Our knowledge of the habits and abilities of the higher Pri 
mates is limited, but the following points are sufficiently well 
established. They are the most intelligent of all the mammals. 
Their habitat is the tropical forests and they have sufficient con 
trol of their environment to satisfy their needs. By piling 
branches together they construct dwellings not much inferior to 
the "lean-to" of the Australian aborigines. They are not ag 
gressive and usually retreat at the approach of man, though, 
when attacked, they defend themselves with great ferocity. 
Their food is chiefly fruit and tender shoots, and it is for this 
reason that the spirit of aggressiveness is undeveloped, since 
they do not prey on other animals. As a rule they are not found 
in larger aggregations than the family, probably because they do 
not need to combine for defence, since they can defend themselves 
with ease against all other animals. 

Primordial man, we are entitled to suppose, must have been 
similar in nature and habits, but man is already a hunter when 
first we have direct evidence regarding him. He has become a 
carnivorous animal, has left the jungle, and has spread over a 
considerable part of the globe. The hunting life changed his 
nature and habits in many respects. It developed in him an 
upright carriage which gave him swifter locomotion and more 
control of his environment by setting his hands free for the 
manufacture and use of tools. As a carnivorous hunter his dis 
position changed and he became the most aggressive of animals. 
The qualities and capacities required for his new mode of life 
as a hunter were developed through a period of half a million 
years. His subsequent stages of development, the pastoral, 


agricultural or industrial, are restricted to the last few thousand 
years. The qualities and capacities acquired in the hunting 
stage must be indelibly fixed in our nature, and it is therefore in 
this stage of our development we are most likely to find the key 
to the subsequent behavior of our species. These qualities and 
capacities are the spirit of aggressiveness, the impulse to roam 
abroad, the absolute disregard for life even of our own species, 
if the taking of it is of any advantage. This is the spirit which 
is the prime cause of history. Instances of it are forthcoming 
from every quarter of the globe and at every stage of recorded 
history. The aggressive hill tribes of Attica slaughtered and 
pillaged the agriculturists of the plains, Athens was built as a 
place of refuge and Athenian history began. The hillmen of 
Latium descended upon the agricultural ancestors of the Romans, 
Rome was built for the same reason as Athens was built, and 
Roman history began. In the East "the Assyrian came down 
like a wolf on the fold", and another phase of history developed. 
But while the spirit of the hunter is the prime cause of history, 
another factor soon made itself felt. After a certain stage on the 
way to civilization is reached, the mind of man becomes obsessed 
with a craze for unity. This characteristic of the human mind 
begets philosophy. It is demanded by the Arts. In the states 
man and warrior it takes the form of empire-building. One 
reason for the phenomenal success of the Roman Empire was 
that, being an expanded city, so to speak, it could and did provide 
for unity of a sort by the bestowal of citizenship upon all its 
subjects, whereas an empire like that of ancient Persia was much 
less durable, since it could not make its subjects Persians, and so 
maintained itself by force alone. Many individuals, it should be 
noted, and sometimes whole nations, e.g., the ancient Greeks, 
have directed their energies mainly to conquering the realm of 
knowledge rather than to building a territorial empire. 

In the industrial world the same spirit finds its expression in 
trusts and monopolies. In the literary world it is the same- 
The writer of this article is no exception to the rule. The spirit 
of the hunter is evident in his desire to knife every theory but 
his own, and his obsession for unity will be clear from a perusal 
of his conclusions. 


So too in religion. Neither Mohammedan nor Christian will 
rest satisfied till the world is Mohammedanized or Christianized. 
Thus the inner world of the spirit ever strives to keep pace with 
the outward march of progress. In his religious experience man 
has passed from the belief in many gods to the belief in one god 
for his particular nation, and from that to the belief in one god 
for all nations, together with the conviction that all mankind 
must be brought to recognize the one and only God. Yet in 
morality we have hardly advanced beyond the primitive stage. 

If then the spirit of the hunter is ingrained in our very nature 
by the habits of half a million years, and if an obsession for unity 
is a fundamental characteristic of the human mind, how is it that 
certain races have remained static and have not gone forth to 
make history? The answer is simply that those races as well 
as those individuals who have been satisfied to remain quiescent 
in a circumscribed territory are examples of atavism. They have 
reverted to the ways of their anthropoid ancestor, who, before 
he became a hunter, never left his native jungle, felt no urge to 
adventure abroad, and whose mind was not sufficiently developed 
to become obsessed with the idea of unity. 

In modern times the same qualities are seen applied to the 
arts of peace. The leaders of our Western civilization have 
pledged themselves to unification through a league of nations, 
and the democratization of the world is the dream of many. 
The white races will doubtless accomplish this end for themselves 
in the fullness of time, but the yellow, brown and black races 
have made no such pledge and democracy is not yet a gospel 
with them. Before the brotherhood of man can become a reality, 
these "inferior" races must have their day. 

The yellow races, at first under the hegemony of Japan and 
later under the leadership of the Chinese, will overrun Europe. 
These nations are fast learning all the military and industrial 
methods of the West, and in time will beat the whites at their 
own game. Even if the future should see a universal disarma 
ment, it can only be a question of time until the Mongoloids 
have established themselves all over Europe by means of peaceful 
penetration. Already the yellow race almost equals in number 
all the branches of the white races combined, and at the rate at 


which they will breed under favorable conditions they will, in a 
century or two, outnumber the whites by many millions. In 
time, then, Europe will be overrun. Europeans who have not 
been exterminated will for the most part flee to America. Those 
who remain will be bred out, for the older race is always prepotent 
and dominant when it comes to a matter of breeding. The last 
stand of the whites will be made in the Americas, but it will be 
only a last stand, for the yellow races will then have them in 
the jaws of a vise. 

In the mean time the brown races, whose education in the arts 
of the whites is already under way, will begin in their turn to 
make history on a grander scale than they have yet attempted. 
For many years they have been moving into Africa and have 
proved themselves highly successful, not only in proselytizing the 
blacks, but in amalgamating with them. Unlike the whites who 
are willing to admit the blacks into heaven but not into their 
families, the browns have no repugnance to intermarriage, and 
in course of time a real fusion will take place. By the time this 
fusion is complete, the yellow races in Europe and the Americas 
will have gone through the same process as the whites, who will 
then be no longer in existence. Democracy, pacifism, and race 
suicide will have placed them in their turn at the mercy of the 
brown-black race, for even now the brown and the black races 
equal the yellows in number. The subjugation of the yellow 
race will then proceed in the same manner as the yellow race 
overcame the white. And these dark races have already arrived 
at a race consciousness and are forming world-wide leagues. So 
slow will the process be that the brown-black race, gradually 
changing both in color and other physical characteristics, will 
have time to adjust itself to northern climatic conditions, and 
the whole world will finally be of one race and one color. Then 
at length man's obsession for unity will be satisfied, for differences 
in race, language, institutions and laws will no longer exist. 
Then and not till then can there be a universal brotherhood of 
man and a lasting peace. 




IN a recent attempt to read a book on methods of measuring 
intelligence I came upon a set of recipes or directions for adjusting 
"the mental physics", "the mental chemistry", "the machinery 
of thought", and "the dynamics of mental process" in the case 
of a child "with a Binet IQ of 74 and a Block-Design IQ of 150 ". 
At first I was uncertain whether the author's scene was laid in a 
repair shop or a school room. Laboring under the handicap of 
certain old fashioned notions about the nature of education, I 
was unable instantly to dramatize an educational problem in word 
pictures borrowed from the realm of mechanical engineering. 
Being unprepared in technical engineering phraseology to pre 
scribe appropriate treatment for the poor child, I could merely 
suggest that the teacher might have to use the crank in case the 
child were not provided with a self-starter. 

But I am wondering just what is expressed by such formulas as 
BIQ = 74 and BDIQ= 150? Is it the measure of the normality of 
the pupil's sensory apparatus, or of his chance for becoming a 
United States Senator, or of his prospects as a plumber, or of his 
capacity in the use of logarithms, or of his temperamental quali 
fications for parenthood and citizenship, or of his ethical code, or 
of his appreciation of the value and meaning of history, philoso 
phy, art, music and literature? Can such formulas express the 
pupil's capacity for a rational use of his leisure time as well as of 
his working hours? 

Unless your formula can measure the child's aptitude in enter 
taining himself and in using his leisure in a sensible manner, it 
fails miserably as an intelligence index, leaving us without clear 
indication whether the child will become an asset or a liability to 
the Nation. For, however important a steady job at a fair wage 
may be to the individual, what he does in his spare moments is 
of far more consequence to society. 

To what should we attribute this craze for reducing everything 


to formulas, charts, graphs, curves, diagrams and statistical 
tables? Is not the great vogue of economics largely responsible 
for it? In my college days the sciences were beginning to en 
croach upon the realm of literature and the humanities in the 
curriculum. The professor of zoology assured us that a correct 
knowledge of the homology of the second gill slit in a rat embryo 
was of much greater cultural value than the ability to conjugate 
Greek and Latin verbs, that it was of more practical value to 
know the number of segments in the thorax of a cockroach than 
the number of cantos in Dante's Inferno, and that we might 
profitably substitute The Anatomy of Invertebrates for The Canter 
bury Tales in our incidental reading. Then came the professor 
of economics with his bludgeon of normal curves, bristling with 
abscissas and ordinates, and widened the breach in the walls of 
the temple of education. He loudly proclaimed that nothing is 
really known until it is reduced to figures, charts and pie-graphs. 
And for two decades we have had to live, however unhappily, 
under the incubus of statistics. 

"I am sick of economics," said an old classmate at a recent 
reunion. "Economics is the apotheosis of force, greed, volume, 
speed, selfishness, efficiency, quantity, noise, violence, arrogance 
and vulgarity. It arrays man against man, class against class, 
nation against nation. Knowledge has no significance in eco 
nomics except as a weapon to beat an enemy or overcome a rival. 
To the economist literature may be worth considering in the 
course of an education if it can teach the student how to make 
two limousines grow where only one grew before. If history is 
able to suggest a way for us to get the better of our European 
competitors in securing South American trade, it may win a place 
in the curriculum. Even science is useful in so far as it helps us to 
become independent of German dye manufacturers, the French 
lace makers and the English woolen mills. A speaking ac 
quaintance with Portuguese may help us in selling American 
merchandise to the Brazilians. And so on through the whole 
gamut of possible subjects for study the economist measures 
everything with the yardstick of immediate practical utility." 

"But chemistry," I interrupted, "might possess permanent edu 
cational value in addition to teaching us how to make gases to 

VOL. ccxxiv. NO. 835 20 


poison Germans and mysterious pink soda water for ourselves. 
Conceivably a man might be a better citizen on account of his 
love of trees, as well as originate a new variety of apple. Zoology, 
rightly conceived, may reveal to us new beauties in the animal 
world as well as show us how to produce the 300-egg hen. And 
from geology we may learn something of the drama of Creation as 
well as how to locate an oil well." 

'Yes, but the emphasis is on the wrong notes," retorted my 
classmate. "The champions of economics are trying to dominate 
the whole educational programme. To them the only bright side 
of anything is its economic aspect. These blatant advocates of 
efficiency speak of students as 'raw material' which is subjected 
to a 'processing' operation in an 'educational plant' and finally 
turned out as a 'finished product'. And graduates from such 
workshops are rated according to their output of product. The 
prize member of the class must outstrip all others in the quantity 
of his output. Life is portrayed to students merely as a rough- 
and-tumble contest for physical supremacy, with prizes graded 
by the volume of product. And on the banner which these young 
knights of efficiency unfurl is inscribed the slogan 'produce more, 
faster, at a smaller cost and at a greater profit than the other 
fellow'. I refuse to admit that life consists wholly of speed, 
noise, volume and cheapness." 

But does the recent noisy prominence of economics really mean 
that the essential cultural foundation of an adequate preparation 
for life is being crowded out of our school curricula and out of our 
home reading? 

In order to test this matter I secured a copy of a carefully 
considered list of one hundred names of the greatest figures in the 
fields of art, music, painting, poetry, fiction, philosophy, science, 
politics and other lines of human achievement from ancient to 
modern times. My next step was to show this list to a number 
of acquaintances, including fourteen well known scientific and 
economic experts in the Federal Departments in Washington, 
asking each man for a critical opinion on the worthiness of the one 
hundred names to be included in such a list of honor. The 
answers were more shocking than I had anticipated. The best 
informed of the fourteen experts had heard of only seventy-one 


of these hundred famous names and one man had never heard of 
but twenty -five of the list. 

A few details of one of these cases may be interesting. A 
mature man between forty and fifty years of age, with a wife and 
growing family, a graduate of two colleges, with a record of 
special studies in three other institutions and widely known for 
his fifteen years or more of service in the scientific and economic 
investigations of a great Federal Department, informed me that he 
had never before heard of ^Eschylus, Bergson, Brahms, Bach, 
Beethoven, Dante, Ibsen, Ibanez, William James, Kant, Leo 
nardo da Vinci, MacDowell, Moliere, Nietzsche, Rousseau, 
Sophocles, Tagore, Yeates, Rodin, Matisse, Joseph Conrad and 
Amy Lowell. Continuing my chat with this expert, I learned 
incidentally that he had never read a page of Shakespeare, Milton, 
Scott, Dickens, Thackeray, Goethe, Dumas, Cervantes, Stevenson, 
Washington Irving, or Poe, while philosophy was but a name and 
history a mere nebulous assumption that the world had probably 
enjoyed a past. 

Now, it would, of course, be unreasonable to require that a 
departmental expert in economics be prepared to discuss the 
relative merits of Beethoven and Wagner, in the peculiar jargon 
of the musical critic. But even this concession does not help me 
to understand how one can so carefully watch his step through 
the halls of five colleges, and down life's course almost to the 
half-century mark, without stumbling upon Beethoven and 
Moliere. He should at least be able to say positively that 
Beethoven was not a peanut vender nor a movie impresario, and 
that Moliere was not the Frenchman who failed to take the heavy 
weight championship away from Jack Dempsey. Moreover, I 
feel quite certain that to have failed to read any and all of the 
world's masterpieces of literature is an intellectual calamity of 
which the asperity can hardly be softened by a study of Adam 
Smith's Wealth of Nations, Henry George's Progress and Poverty, 
or even the latest statistical analysis of the fluctuations in the 
price of hogs. 

Indeed, I will go so far as to say that, in my opinion, there are 
things which are neither comparable nor interchangeable. For 
example, I cannot see how a study of curves of normal frequency 


can be substituted for the reading of Alice's Adventures in Won 
derland. In what way can an acquaintance with the formulas 
for calculating probable error take the place of the pleasure 
derived from Gulliver's Travels? How would one balance the law 
of diminishing returns against Sartor Resartus, or the foreign 
demand for bacon against Wagner's Parsifal, or the latest theory 
of railroad rates against the canvas of Mona Lisa, or the basis of 
the three mile limit against Huckleberry Finn, or plasterers' wages 
against Barrymore's Hamlet, or the demand for chewing gum 
against Paradise Lost, or collective bargaining against Shelley's 
To the Skylark, or even the Farm Bloc against MacDowell's To a 
Wild Rose? To pretend that economics can take the place of 
literature in a college course smacks too much of the tactics of 
the garrulous salesman who tries to show us something "equally 
as good". 

But what have been the effects of this furore over economics 
and consequent neglect of literature? One need not look far to 
find them. The symptoms are painfully conspicuous. They 
indicate a diagnosis of intellectual pellagra or psychic malnutri 
tion due to a one-sided diet of figures, curves, charts, tables, 
graphs, formulas, diagrams, norms, modes, means, averages and 
other parts of the skeleton without a sufficient proportion of the 
real meat of wisdom. Men who, like some of my economic ac 
quaintances, grope their way across the stage of life from entrance 
to exit in a long night of color blindness to everything except 
economics, are missing a large part of the fun. 

Perhaps the worst of it all is that economics is concerned merely 
with the efficient employment of one's working hours at his 
regular job, and provides no help in the pleasant and profitable 
use of leisure. The significance of this fact may be better appre 
ciated if we remember that our annual expenditures for movies is 
one billion dollars, for feathers, furs, and chewing gum another 
billion, for candy and ice cream a third billion, for tobacco two 
more billions and for automobiles two and one-half billions. 
Most of this seven and one-half billions annual expenditure is 
used in buying amusement for our leisure time. We seem to be 
losing the art of entertaining ourselves, and must hire professional 
entertainers to keep us from suffering too much ennui and 


peevishness during our idle hours. The fact that five million 
persons attend the movies daily indicates that too many of us do 
not know what to do with ourselves outside of the regular working 
hours. I have acquaintances who, like the spoiled infant that 
must be constantly tossed up and down or have something shaken 
before its eyes, are unhappy unless they are whirling around city 
blocks in a car, or watching pictures flash across the screen, or 
sipping fountain drinks in a drug store. Our devotion to eco 
nomics has become a nation-wide dissipation, or rather a veritable 
debauch, in which we have forgotten how to amuse ourselves, and 
we must now pay the fiddler to make our leisure endurable. 

But seven and one-half billion dollars or even half that amount 
is a good round sum to pay for a year's fun. And I have men 
tioned only the big items of amusement expense, the billion 
dollar items. There remain the bridge parties, the fat subsidies 
to bootleggers, ladies' evenings at the clubs, exposure to jazz 
music, endless dancing (particularly "ansesthetic" dancing, as a 
friend of mine calls it), watching bulletin boards for racing results 
or baseball scores, and many other earnest efforts to prevent 
leisure from becoming boredom. It's a big price we are paying 
for this amusement. I wonder if the results justify the price? 

Moreover, the problem of leisure is steadily becoming more 
serious. Apparently the ambition of all labor organizations is to 
reduce the hours of work to the economic minimum. I have 
listened to many heated arguments that two or at most four hours 
should be the limit of a standard day's work. And recently 
scientists and economists, not to be outdone by the labor agita 
tors, have been indulging in dreams of the time when all food will 
be produced by chemical synthesis, leaving the farmer nothing to 
do but pitch horse shoes and whittle sticks. 

Then too, we are told, manufacturing processes will be so 
refined and efficient that no one will have to work more than 
thirty minutes or an hour a day at most to produce all that human 
beings need to eat, wear, drink, smoke or otherwise consume. 
Evidently then the old song to the effect that "every day will be 
Sunday by-and-by" will come true. But what will the people 
do on an unending Sunday? Just try to picture the task of con 
verting our 6,500,000 farms into polo grounds, golf courses and 


aviation fields, and finding something for the idle farmer to do 
with his leisure. And what might become of the Farm Bloc and 
the surplus bugaboo? Plainly we should be confronted with an 
appalling situation. For if a correspondingly violent attack of 
efficiency should light upon Congress and the horde of Federal, 
State and municipal employees, thousands of them might be 
turned loose upon an innocent public, already suffering under a 
heavy burden of leisure time. 

But may there not be simpler, less expensive but equally 
enjoyable ways of using leisure, ways that make leisure a period 
to be eagerly awaited rather than a dreaded incubus? The first 
way that opens out to my vision is the pleasant pathway to good 
literature. Earth has yielded no gems and man has fashioned no 
other treasures comparable in value with great literature. No 
regal diadem equals the first folio of Shakespeare. Horace with a 
pardonable egotism was merely speaking the plain truth when he 
announced in the familiar triumphant Latin verses that in his 
odes he had builded a monument more lasting than brass and 
overtopping the Pyramids. Horace made the whole world 
richer for all time by a few strokes of his pen, a miracle which no 
economist has achieved. Faust, Hamlet, Ivanhoe, Don Quixote, 
Falstaff, Portia, Uncle Remus, Sam Weller, David Copperfield, 
Becky Sharp, Jean Valjean and the thousands of their comrades 
in the pages of literature stand ready to welcome all visitors to 
their realm, and to fill with joy, amusement, comfort and soothing 
satisfaction all the leisure time available for such visits. And 
all this feast is spread for the price of a street car fare to the 
public library. 

Why, then, is this supreme and inexhaustible source of pleasure 
so often overlooked in the frenzied search for entertainment to 
fill up spare time? Well, thereby hangs a tale. Our neglect of 
English in homes and schools is becoming a national scandal. 
We have created huge subsidies and endowments for the study 
of insect habits, fecundity in hogs, heredity in rats, the trend of 
prices, the eradication of barberries, methods of canning peaches, 
pruning grape vines, manufacturing nitrates, controlling the 
feeble minded, raising blue foxes, broadcasting news of market 
doings, in fact every subject that human beings could study, 


except English and literature. Isn't it about time that as a 
Nation we began to give encouragement to the universal and 
systematic study and enjoyment of the medium through which all 
our joys, griefs and other experiences must find expression? To 
college trustees, who for the most part are of the boiler factory, 
captain-of -industry type, English literature is the least important 
thing about a college. "What we want in our students is more 
pep, more of the go-get-'em and do-it-first spirit," is their motto. 

You may remember that on his gloomy journey with Virgil 
through the Inferno, Dante came upon one of his former teachers 
away down in the seventh circle of hell. Perhaps Andrew D. 
White of the Yale class of '53 had a similar purpose in mind when 
he said: "At Yale in my day there was never even a single 
lecture on any subject in literature. In the English literature and 
language every man was left to his own devices." Is English 
becoming a dead language like Latin and Greek, except for 
telegrams, baseball news and movie legends? The youth still 
need some training for citizenship as well as for plumbing, plaster 
ing, pork packing and prune production. A mastery of English 
provides another needful ingredient of life. But on this point 
parents, school trustees and teachers seem to need an awakening. 
Too often the trustees' exhortation to the teacher is: "Cut from 
the curriculum, so far as feasible, all useless frills such as English, 
literature, history and similar stuff, and bend every effort with all 
possible speed to transform the raw material which comes under 
your care into efficient taxi drivers, wireless operators, stenog 
raphers, bookkeepers, barbers, cooks, manicurists, and other 
useful members of society." 

And many teachers, cowed and discouraged by such bullying 
tactics, are being driven perilously near the limbo where Dante 
found his old preceptor. Only a few days ago, in an article by a 
teacher of English on English courses in schools, I read the amaz 
ing statement that Homer, Plato, Horace, Chaucer, Cervantes, 
Shakespeare, Milton, Scott, Dickens, Thackeray, Cooper, Haw 
thorne, Emerson, and Lowell have no more value or relation to 
the modern world than the footprints of a Dinosaur in the mud of 
the lower Cretaceous Age. I wonder what this man does with 
his leisure hours, and, more particularly, how he contrives to 


avoid meeting at every turn of the road and in every corner of his 
study these same immortal spirits that he so unceremoniously 
exorcises from the class room? Fortunately most of our teachers 
of English literature have kept the faith. In my travels through 
all of our forty-eight States during the past four years I have 
embraced such opportunities as presented themselves to inquire of 
literature teachers how they were getting on. Naturally many 
are somewhat discouraged, working in an unfriendly atmosphere. 
It hurts a bit to see emphasis placed on almost all subjects except 
literature. In literature virtue is its own reward, particularly in 
the State colleges and universities. The honor man in the swine 
husbandry course gets a substantial prize as the best hog critic. 
But literature is an unnecessary frill, a useless habit which one 
must acquire at his own risk. 

Moreover, I listened with much interest to remarks about 
efforts in various institutions to teach "business English", 
"agricultural English", and "scientific English". Why not add 
courses in cowboy English, baseball English, negro English, New 
York English, and pidgin English? I find it hard to understand 
how a reputable institution can be misled into the adoption of 
such a worthless remedy for a fundamental defect. Business 
English and scientific English are not English, but mere special 
jargons. There is only one kind of English and that's plain, 
unqualified English, spoken in one form or another by nearly 
five hundred million people in various parts of the globe, a lan 
guage in which you may speak to the American business man, 
farmer, scientist or economist with confident expectation of being 
understood. But English is not a mere phase of botany or book 
keeping or stock judging. Nor should it be taught by the 
zoologist, the accountant, or the veterinarian. Since I have dog 
matically asserted that there is but one English language, I may 
as well go further and say that there is only one way to teach 
English, and that is as a cultural art subject in the hands of men 
who know and love good literature. 

In the meantime, our educational programme is failing to prepare 
the youth for a rational use of leisure. Social and political ills are 
not cured by studying the economics of engineering, agriculture, 
railroads and commerce. Machine efficiency, industrialism, com- 


mercialism, speed mania and the rage for material progress or 
supremacy are the chief causes of social unrest. And more mere 
mechanical efficiency and material prosperity will entail still 
more unrest. Economics boasts its ability to analyze and solve 
all the ills of industrial relationships. But I have searched 
economics in vain for a remedy applicable to our educational 
muddle. On the other hand, I have merely to consult my copy 
of The Hunting of the Snark to find a suggestive formula. There 
I learn, apropos of serving up a jubjub bird, the paramount 
importance of 

Still keeping one principal object in view, 

To preserve its symmetrical shape. 

That expresses our whole duty to the school curriculum to 
restore and preserve its symmetrical shape by placing the right 
emphasis on literature as the best and simplest means of preparing 
every boy and girl for the efficient employment of working hours 
and the wise and profitable use of leisure. 

Seven great endowments the Peabody Education Fund of 
$3,000,000, the John F. Slater Fund of $1,000,000, the Carnegie 
Institution of Washington with $22,000,000, the General Educa 
tion Board with $53,000,000, the Carnegie Foundation for the 
Advancement of Teaching with $15,000,000, the Russell Sage 
Foundation of $10,000,000, and the Anna T. Jeanes Foundation 
of $1,000,000 have been established to educate former slaves, to 
encourage the study of farming, science, economics, and living 
conditions and to provide pensions for teachers. And the Gov 
ernment has contributed its millions for the same purposes. We 
have millions of federal funds for the study of coyotes, chinch 
bugs, flax, rubber and hog cholera, but not a cent for literature. 

And the problem of the wise use of leisure is still screaming for 
help. Many of the machine jobs can be learned in three weeks' 
time. In fact the majority of youths who enter the trades 
receive big wages after a month's apprenticeship. Thus they are 
provided with a generous living. But what will they do with 
their leisure? Machine education cannot replace the thoughtful, 
constructive use of leisure. Education should develop the ability 
to use spare time profitably to oneself and to society. Does our 
present school programme strengthen that capacity? Ask the 


5,000,000 who daily visit the movies. It might be well for educa 
tors and school boards to apply to their own work Hamlet's 
instructions to the players on the art of acting: "O, reform it 
altogether." For in these roaring times of industrial efficiency 
working hours make up but a small part of the day. And the idle 
hour programme is a far more important matter. 

The upshot of the whole matter seems to be, then, that we need 
more literature in the schools and less talk about literature, and 
that there is room for a keener appreciation of literature in the 
home circle from grandfather down to the four-year-olds. In no 
other way can the recreation hour, the idle moment, the vacation 
time or the leisure period be so easily filled with pleasure and 
profit. By a strange irony of fate the biggest present-day eco 
nomic problem is one with which economics cannot deal, viz: the 
right use of the increasing periods of leisure time, brought about 
by modern industrialism. We make generous financial allot 
ments for education, spending in fact almost hah* as much for 
that purpose as for cigarettes. But our standard system of 
education helps prepare us for only the few working hours and 
leaves us to our own devices the rest of the time. 

An educational system which prepared pupils only for the wise 
use of their leisure hours would be no less symmetrical, and, 
incidentally, would give a larger return for the expenditure of 
time and energy. But no one wants it to be all literary. We 
still remember the admonition of Lewis Carroll: "To preserve its 
symmetrical shape." Neither does it need to be all forge work 
and cabinet making. Some teachers are trying to assume 
unnecessary responsibilities. School teachers cannot possibly 
instruct all their pupils in all the mechanical arts, sciences, 
professions and trades. The Creator, with more modesty, left 
something for the individual to learn in his own development and 
experience. But the teacher may inspire the pupil with a love of 
good literature. If he succeeds in so doing, the pupil in his later 
life will rise up and call him blessed. Is it too much to ex 
pect of the schools that they may make a more determined 
effort to prepare the student for the business of life as a whole 
and not merely for the hours he is to spend in the shop or office? 



IN literature and drama, English people have always been 
peculiarly susceptible to newness, strangeness, picturesqueness, 
and apt to fancy they are encountering genius when they are only 
experiencing astonishment. The classic example of this is 
Synge's Playboy, the wild, riotous extravagance of which so car 
ried English critics away that they hailed it as genius, ignoring 
the fact that they had already seen, with cold eyes, Synge's two 
masterpieces, Riders to the Sea and The Well of the Saints. Much 
the same thing has happened, in a minor degree, to other Irish 
writers and dramatists who brought to the English mind some 
thing fresh and, so to put it, queer, something enshrining an 
attitude of mind completely un-English, or giving glimpses of a 
civilization which they would feel as "quaint". On the other 
hand, we in Ireland have suffered from the opposite fault, hi that 
we have been suspicious of any impulse to hail anybody as a 
genius. We throw brickbats readily, and compliments with 
difficulty, and I am not sure that it is not, when all is said, better 
for men of talent or genius to get more than a fair share of brick 
bats at first we invariably recall them eventually than to get 
more than a fair share of compliments. To that general rule, 
Sean O* Casey is an exception, and he is in other respects a suffi 
cient phenomenon in Irish drama to merit consideration. 

Dramatic art is now a vastly different thing from what it was 
thirty years ago. Then it was lifeless, bloodless, and formalistic, 
obsessed with the idea that there were certain rigid rules of con 
struction, of treatment, of subject, which it must follow. There 
was Ibsen, of course, who seemed to be new and very revolution 
ary, but whose method was the traditional method, and whose 
real influence on the drama was slight. He brought ideas and 
realism into it, but he did not change its form or widen it, and had 
it not been for other influences he might well have passed and 
left it intrinsically the same, except for a little better construction, 


since the old methods could never have come back after so mas 
terful a construction as Rosmersholm. But the men who liber 
ated drama were really Wilde and Shaw, Irishmen both; liberated 
it from the idea that there was something fixed and immutable in 
its form, something limited in its choice of subjects. Wilde's 
influence was not apparent then, and is not now, because the 
tragedy which ended his career drove his plays off the stage until 
after Shaw had taken up the work where he stopped. But al 
though his first plays conform to the mould of his time, they are 
restive under it, and he was feeling his way toward the play of 
ideas, the play wherein ideas and nothing else really mattered, 
the sort of play so brilliantly done afterward by Shaw. In The 
Importance of Being Earnest, his last play, the characters and 
situations are of relatively little importance; what matters are the 
ideas, the wit, the brilliancy. The play is compounded of and 
for these. In short, the critics would have been telling him in a 
little while, as they told Shaw later, that his plays were not plays. 
Shaw, as we know, retaliated by calling his next play "a discus 
sion ", and liberated drama. He widened its bounds and enlarged 
its horizon. He established the proposition that a play need not 
necessarily be, in the old rigid sense, a play, so long as it gets over 
the footlights. It can be a discussion, a tract, a morality, any 
thing; it can just tell a story. A propagandist play may not be 
as good a play, artistically speaking, as an art-for-art's-sake play, 
but that fact will be to some measure independent of its subject. 
It will be conditioned by its plot, its characters in fact, by 
the same things which determine the value of any other play. 

Sean O' Casey, in his plays, is dealing not so much with men and 
women as with his epoch. His characters are there only to il 
lustrate the life he knows and the forces that environ that life. 
He is propagandist in two senses; in that his characters are sub 
ordinated to his thesis, and in that his thesis itself is a partisan 
one. His whole soul feels violently, a soul in eruption, and so his 
characters are spiritually, and often physically, violent and 
eruptive. He has been known for a great many years as a man 
in the Irish Movement, to use a vague but well understood term; 
but as a dramatist he came only after Ireland had known three 
terrible and changing things the Insurrection of 1916, the 


Black-and-Tan War, and the Civil War. And he attempts to 
show the reactions which these three things had upon the common 
people of the City of Dublin, the heart and centre of the whole 

Mr. O' Casey's first play, The Shadow of a Gunman, deals with 
the Black-and-Tan War, or War of Independence. It deals with 
it, not as it was seen and felt by those who were taking part in it, 
but as it appeared to those who most suffered from it, that is to 
say, the mass of the common people. The play has practically 
no plot, and its characters are puppets the only character that 
one really remembers afterward is the realistic Black-and-Tan, 
who is on the stage only about ten minutes. But it puts on the 
boards Dublin people to the life, and Dublin conversation, and 
Dublin tenements in actuality. It shows the other side of the 
heroic medal which to many is the whole of the war; and it does it 
all with a naturalness, a humor and a bite which have proved 
quite irresistible. The keynote of the play will be found in this 
bit of dialogue: 

SEUMAS. How peaceful the heavens look now with the moon in the middle; 
you'd never think there were men prowlin' about tryin' to shoot each other. 
I don't know how a man who has shot anyone can sleep in peace at night. 

DAVOREN. There's plenty of men can't sleep in peace at night now unless 
they know that they have shot somebody. 

SEUMAS. I wish to God it was all over. The country is gone mad. In 
stead of counting their beads now they're countin' bullets; their Hail Marys 
and Paternosters are burstin' bombs burstin' bombs, an' the rattle of machine 
guns; petrol is their Holy Water; their Mass is a burnin' buildin'; their De 
Profundis is The Soldiers' Song, an' their creed is, I believe in the gun almighty, 
maker of heaven an' earth an' it's all for "the glory o' God and the honor o* 

DAVOREN. I remember the time when you yourself believed in nothing but 
the gun. 

SEUMAS. Ay, when there wasn't a gun in the country; I've a different 
opinion now when there's nothin* but guns in the country . . . It's the 
civilians that suffer; when there's an ambush they don't know where to run. 
Shot in the back to save the British Empire, an' shot in the breast to save 
the soul of Ireland. 

The characters are all voices, and nothing more than voices. 
But they give, in ensemble, an authentic social and historical 


background to the time, and lay bare what was happening, and 
what was being thought, behind the ambushing and the shooting. 
Ireland, in the years of that war, began to see the other side of 
heroism, began to see the excesses of a popularization of force. 
And this play, dealing wholly with the common people, and in 
their familiar vocabulary, came right out of the midst of them and 
put them on the stage as they were and as they thought. That 
was why it at once achieved popularity. 

Mr. O' Casey's second play, Juno and the Pay cock, is also a docu 
ment of his epoch. It deals with the Civil War, but whereas the 
Black-and-Tan War was the whole of The Gunman, the Civil 
War is not nearly the whole of Juno. The main interest in Juno 
is in the characters; in Juno, her husband, and the wastrel Joxer. 
Yet the atmosphere of the Civil War is worked in so cleverly with 
the characters that they fit in, and do not spoil each other, which 
is also perfectly true of the actual time. Nobody could get away 
from the Black-and-Tan War, even in thought, but the people at 
large took no real interest in the Civil War. It was there and 
they could not stop it, but they detested it and were reaching 
out to other interests. The bite of the earlier play has been 
softened, and instead of the hard, riotous, political bombs we get 

Mother o* God, Mother o' God, have pity on us all ! Blessed Virgin, where 
were you when me darlin' son was riddled with bullets, when me darlin* son was 
riddled with bullets? Sacred Heart o' Jesus, take away our hearts o' stone, 
and give us hearts o' flesh! Take away this murdherin* hate, an' give us 
Thine own eternal love ! 

That may read crudely. It is crude. But in the play it is 
noble and pitiful and right, and it says justly and accurately what 
ought to be said about the thing with which it deals, and what 
many people were saying at the time. 

But the triumph of the play is in the three characters I have 
mentioned; the idle, drunken father, the heroic mother, and the 
wastrel hanger-on and boon companion. Juno is a real tragic 
figure, not of ignoble but of high and ennobling import. She is 
true metal, true mother and true woman, and true to actual life, 
from the first to the last line. The others are true also, the 


drunken but not evil father, the drunken but not evil hanger-on. 
They are recognizable and true types. The two wastrels, one 
feels, cannot help being wastrels. It was in their blood, or in 
their circumstances. There they are. But you cannot hate 
them, or feel disgust at them, any more than Juno can. They 
have no special virtues but also no ugly vices, and when they are 
drunk they are maudlin perhaps but not brutal or vicious. Juno 
is the high test of the play, and stands it triumphantly. She is 
there to do her daily work, her daily round, for husband and 
children, however unworthy they may be, and she does it, un 
changed by good or by ill fortune. Fate deals its heaviest blows 
at her, but she meets everything with courage and fortitude, and 
at the end is nobly undismayed. 

There are, of course, minor characters, also true and illuminat 
ing in their way; and there is one bad blunder in the play. The 
whole episode of the betrayal of the daughter, and especially the 
portrayal of the seducer, is unreal and false. If it were not for 
that it would be a perfect tragedy, but it carries even that. 

The third of Mr. O'Casey's plays, The Plough and the Stars, is 
the earliest in point of time. It deals with the Insurrection of 
1916, and attempts to show that episode against the background 
of the Ireland of its time. There is a better attempt at character 
ization than in The Gunman, and there is one perfect comedy 
character, Fluther Good, worthy to be put with Captain Boyle 
and Joxer or Juno; but the characters on the whole are unimpor 
tant and the play depends upon its subject. It is an unequal play. 
The first act is bad; the second act, taken by itself, is the most 
brilliant and most moving thing Mr. O'Casey has written; while 
the third and fourth acts, while in full keeping with Mr. O'Casey's 
thesis, are not a true picture. They contain truth. It is a fact 
that there were drunkenness and looting among some of the Dub 
lin poor in Easter week, but it is an untrue picture which gives 
nothing else but that. And I think the role assigned to Mrs. 
Clitheroe, that of holding back her man, is quite untrue. The 
end of the fourth act does perfectly give you Ireland immediately 
after the Rising; but to the extent that the third and fourth acts 
do not do justice to the Rising itself, the play is an untrue, or 
rather an incomplete, picture. But the matchless second act! 


When the play was produced, a small minority of people ob 
jected to the second act, and created a disturbance, which, was 
not repeated and did not interfere with the performance. I can 
only surmise that their minds were quite blinded to beauty. 
The second act is in a public-house, with the glasses and bottles, 
the barman, the drinkers, and the prostitute this latter a gem of 
observation, marvellously acted. The conversation, the argu 
ments, are those of Dublin of the time, petty, squalid, not en 
nobling. Into the bar come two men, an Irish Volunteer and a 
member of the Irish Citizen Army, carrying flags. They come 
from a meeting outside. They are worked up, enthusiastic. 
Their talk is of fighting for Ireland, dying for Ireland. There is 
the background, an actual, true, artistic presentation of the 
background which was Ireland on Easter Monday of 1916. 
Across that whole scene comes in flashes, a sentence now and a 
sentence again, a voice from outside, the voice of the orator at a 
meeting, and the words are the words of Pearse in that most un 
forgettable and most classic utterance of his, that speech at the 
grave of O'Donovan Rossa which is one of the great Irish national 
orations. It cuts like a trumpet call, like the sword of the Lord, 
like a gleam of beauty, right across the squalidity, the maudlin- 
ism, the spinelessness, which was Ireland at the time; just as the 
Rising itself came, suddenly and like a sign from Heaven. It is a 
true act, a perfectly beautiful act, true humanly and true histori 
cally, and to it I take off my hat. 

Mr. O'Casey has written also a couple of one-act plays, but 
they are of no importance, and the three plays I have dealt with 
form, so far, his output. They will be found, I think, to consti 
tute the first phase of his development. He has dealt with his 
epoch, and in the future he will have to find other subjects. I 
have no doubt he will find them, for clearly he has the root of the 
matter in him. But, even if he never wrote another line, he has 
contributed nobly to the Irish Theatre and to drama, more 
weightily perhaps than any other of the younger dramatists. 

To the Irish dramatic movement itself he brought the people. 
He came from the people and he brought the people. In all the 
thirty years of its existence, and for all its fine and individual 
work, the audience of the Abbey Theatre was mainly an eclectic 
audience, a select audience. It was composed of people who 


wanted to see plays about Ireland. Mr. O' Casey brought in the 
people who wanted to see plays, who were in Ihe habit of going 
for that purpose to what is miscalled the commercial theatre, and 
who did not particularly want Irish plays. They came for The 
Gunman, to see the life they led and hear the things they thought, 
but having come they remained, remained for Mr. Robinson's 
Big House and White Blackbird, for Pirandello, for Mr. Yeats's 
moving version of (Edipus. The old habitues, who spoke with 
scorn about the new Abbey audience laughing at the wrong things 
and generally disgracing itself from an eclectic standpoint, forgot 
that the new audience was the people, and that it is more impor 
tant to have the people than to have a merely select audience. 
Moreover, not alone have the people discovered the Abbey, but 
they have learned to appreciate the Abbey, the plays, and the 
acting. The tremendous tragedy of (Edipus was played recently 
to full and appreciative audiences, who were held from the first 
word to the last by the vital mould and mood of the play and the 
magnificence of the acting. 

In another sense also Mr. O' Casey is significant in the evolution 
of the Irish dramatic movement. He breaks the long line of 
peasant dramatists and peasant plays. He is the first modern 
Irish dramatist to come out of brick and mortar and write about 
brick and mortar. All the others have come from farms or from 
small towns and villages, and they have written about town life, 
when they did write about it, at second hand. The contrast 
between that sort of writing and the writing of the man who knows, 
as exemplified in Mr. O' Casey, is very remarkable. Mr. O' Casey 
not only knows the life and the people, but he is one of them, still 
one of them, and he writes out of a passionate need to express 
certain things, and not from a desire to find good copy. Other 
writers will show you slum life as a thing of gloom and horror, but 
that is only the writing of a District Visitor with an obsession in 
favor of believing the worst of everybody. Mr. O' Casey never 
leaves out the humanity, good feeling, and humor that make life 
worth living even in the slums. 

His future is an unknown quantity. But on his three plays his 
place in Irish drama and Irish history is secure. These are 
chronicle plays, which set down his epoch and show how it met its 
three upheavals, plays of the utmost importance historically and 

VOL. CCXX3V. NO. 835 21 


socially. They show plebs articulate in time of revolution and 
what would we not give to get that for every upheaval, national 
or universal? The politicians have been very vocal as expounders 
of the people's thoughts, but here is something right out of the 
people, a self revealing of their thought and life and attitude. I 
venture to think that, in years to come, when these times are 
being written on, people will turn rather to these plays, and plays 
like Mr. George Shiels's The Retrievers (an illuminating play on 
rural conditions in time of disorder), rather than to the ponderous 
historian who counts nothing but what he calls facts. 

Mr. O' Casey, at any rate, must go on. He has a rich and vir 
gin field, and he has courage, pity, good observation, and a 
kindly feeling for illusions. The danger before him is that he 
might become "literary". There is visible in The Plough and the 
Stars a dangerou's tendency to manufacture a sort of slum Kil- 
tartan, and in some interviews which he is alleged to have given 
among the English he is said to have talked about "the mission 
of the artist". Well, that, to him, is only jargon which he does 
not understand and which he should not use. Let him never 
bother his head about phrases of this sort, but write, and go on 
writing. He is not an artist, but a propagandist, a man within 
his brain a queer jumble of half forgotten, half repudiated, but 
still remembered, rags of various political and social formulas, all 
of which have been thrown overboard by his sincere and passion 
ate feeling for the common people, the plebs, their fine people and 
their drunkards and their wastrels, their humor and their res 
ignation, and by his sense of the futility of mere political or social 
upheaval. They are his people, all of them, and he does not know 
yet what he can do with them. He can only wait, and go on 
writing when the surge is on him. He is a young man, and as 
yet an unspoiled one. There is no reason why he should not go 
on, and give us in the end, judging by his beginning, a very con 
siderable addition to the world's dramatic literature. But if he 
is to do that he must cut loose from London and go back where he 
belongs. The cosmopolitan Irishman often makes literature in 
England and in America. But not the Irishman of his sort. 
Ireland is not alone his mother, but his life, and his future depends 
upon his maintaining due contact with her. 




JAMES BBYCE. By H. A. L. Fisher. Two Volumes. New York: The 
Macmillan Company. 

GEORGE ELIOT AND HER TIMES. By Elizabeth S. Haldane. New York: 
D. Appleton and Company. 

ANTHONY TROLLOPE. By Michael Sadleir. Boston and New York: 
Houghton Mifflin Company. 

"In the present day, no one can take up any book intended for 
general circulation without clearly seeing that the writer sup 
poses most of his readers will be ladies or young men; and that 
in proportion to his judgment he is attending to their taste." 
True indeed; and where more truly than in the welter of biog 
raphies and biographical fiction which the mode of the recent 
past and immediate present has called forth in such large quan 
tities? "The Rewrite School of Biography," Mr. John Carter 
aptly calls it, with its hastily assembled facts, and intelligentsia 
diction, and so little regard for the intimate interrelations 
between the subject of a biography and his period. The "pres 
ent day" referred to, however, is not as of 1927, but of the year 
of grace 1856, and Walter Bagehot, the eminent English political 
economist, is writing in The National Review on Edward Gibbon, 
and contrasting the literature of Gibbon's period with that of his, 
as one "in which authors had ceased to write for students, and 
had not yet begun to write for women". 

But what seemed to Bagehot a critical defect in the writing of 
his day, seventy years ago, may be stressed as sound criticism 
for some of the writing of ours, and one hopes if this biographical 
vogue is to stay with us there may be more of the masculine 
tone, to use another Bagehot phrase, and less prettifying of 
the writing of biography. There are, however, some notable 
exceptions, in the field of biography, to this feminine and adoles- 


cent school. A virile piece of work beyond question is that of 
the Warden of New College in his James Bryce. Although 
scarcely to be classed as a great biography, an estimate doubtless 
that Mr. Fisher would be the first to disclaim, it is a staunch 
and scholarly piece of writing. Mr. Fisher has restricted his 
narrative, notably in recording some of Bryce's twenty -six years 
Parliamentary experiences, and in omitting accounts of some of 
his multitudinous activities. But his aim was to give the per 
sonality of the man, and in that he has met with a real success, 
and also to underscore Lord Bryce's interest in the furthering of 
Anglo-American relations. 

Competing for a scholarship at Trinity, Oxford, in the spring 
of 1857, this young Scottish Presbyterian faced the challenge of 
signing the Thirty-Nine Articles as well as being expected to 
attend chapel. A profound conviction that to sign the Articles 
would be "treason to the faith of his ancestors" led him to refuse 
to do so, even at the cost of relinquishing his scholarship. 
Ultimately he was admitted, receiving a B.A., and later a 
D.C.L., but the M.A. degree, which could only be conferred if 
the candidate had signed the Thirty-Nine Articles, was never 
given. He won many academic honors while at Oxford. Gold- 
win Smith and Dean Stanley were the outstanding professors to 
him, and much of his interest in History was furthered by them. 
In the spring of 1862 he was elected to a Fellowship at Oriel, and 
in that same year won the Arnold Prize with the now famous 
essay, later expanded into a small book, The Holy Roman Em 
pire, of which Freeman wrote: "Mr. Bryce's essay may seem 
ephemeral in form, but it is not ephemeral in substance. He has 
in truth by a single youthful effort placed himself on a level with 
men who have given their lives to historical study." And a 
young historian had thus come among the scholars of Oxford. 

Bryce was connected with the movement for women to have a 
university training, and supported the effort throughout his life, 
while at the same time remaining a confirmed anti -suffragist. 
He aided in the founding of Girton College; was, in fact, "an 
original member" of the college to which George Eliot contrib 
uted one hundred pounds as "from the author of Adam Bede". 
His connection with educational problems began with his ap- 


pointment on a Royal Commission to examine into secondary 
education in all its ramifications. In this as in all matters relat 
ing to education Mr. Fisher finds the interest of a fellow special 
ist, and therefore the biography is rather over-weighted on this 

Inevitably, beginning with Mr. Fisher himself, must Lord 
Bryce be likened to Herodotus, for travel and history, combined 
as only the trained student can make them, were as vital to the 
one man as to the other. And they visited and commented on 
the same places. "Even down to my time" was as easily the 
phrase of the Greek as of the Briton. So we have annals of 
visits in Transylvania, Ireland, Spain and Portugal, the Caucasus, 
Tiflis, Erivan, with the climbing of Ararat, then back through 
Constantinople, where the Near East question was rushing to one 
of its periodic heads. Gladstone came back into office and Bryce 
made his entry into Parliament. Notwithstanding his twenty- 
six years there, he was not regarded as a success. Undoubtedly 
he was too academic for his fellow Commoners; his digressions, 
based on his stupendous knowledge, could lead him far afield; 
and he was not a debater. In 1886 Mr. Gladstone invited him 
to become an Under Secretary of State, so thus he became a 
Minister of the Crown, although for barely six months' duration 
through the defeat of the Liberal Party on the Irish Question. 
But this overthrow, brought about by the Home Rule Bill, 
secured to Bryce the nominal leisure which advanced the work 
on The American Commonwealth, that breviary for all students 
in these United States. His Ambassadorship to the United 
States, a mission he filled with affectionate success to the minds of 
Americans, his work on the Committee of War Outrages, and 
later for the League of Nations, are recently familiar. A fre 
quent criticism of the biography is that the letters selected are 
too similar, and from the same sources, mostly American. Per 
haps another volume is in contemplation, which would include 
those from Englishmen among his intimates. 

When George Eliofs Life by her husband, J. W. Cross, appeared 
in 1885, the critics found in it a new plan of biography. Henry 
James said it was a plan "without precedent ... of conjoining 
in the same text selected morsels of letters and journals, so as to 


form a continuous and multifarious talk, on the writer's part, 
punctuated only by marginal names and dates," and "that the 
form Mr. Cross has chosen or invented becomes in the application, 
highly agreeable." John Morley, recalling that George Eliot 
herself condemned the practice of literary biography, although 
admitting that "autobiography, at least saves a man or a woman 
that the world is curious about from the publication of a string 
of mistakes called 'Memoirs'", applauds the work of Cross, 
saying: "He found no autobiography nor fragment of one, but 
he has skillfully shaped a kind of autobiography by a plan which, 
so far as we know, he is justified in calling new." And from 
across the Channel, the eminent French critic, Edmond Scherer, 
commented on the newness of the plan, notably in that the letters 
are never given entire, and that he (Cross) "has not let slip 
any of those involuntary revelations, of those blessed indiscre 
tions, which rejoice the reader and edify the psychologist"! 

Now again, after forty or more years, we have this volume of 
George Eliot and Her Times, by Miss Haldane, sister of Lord 
Haldane, who has done her work competently and compactly, 
one might almost say as a revaluation of the critical estimate of 
this engrossing Victorian figure, who Lord Acton said was "the 
most considerable literary personality that had appeared since 
the death of Goethe". And perhaps the most important 
part the book will serve is that it starts anew discussion of this 
personality, outstanding even in an age of literary giants. 

George Eliot was a master in the interpretation of the lives of 
the common people. Here her best realism is to be found. In 
religion she would be called, Miss Haldane thinks, a Modernist; 
but in the days when science and religion were really in violent 
antagonism, her calm, secured by a deep sense of the rights of 
the mind, gave her poise in the conflict. Her humility in regard 
to her own work, her love of children, of whom she invariably 
wrote with more spontaneity than of other people, with none of 
the inhibitions modernity would think it had to demand of a 
childless woman, came perhaps from her renunciation of the 
creed of her forefathers, and her belief that all that life itself 
could mean dwelt in the heart of man. Yet the Tales of Clerical 
Life are "reckoned as amongst [her] best writing." 


The realism of her art tested by modern standards will invite 
consideration. But there is scarcely likely to be a return of the 
hot discussion of the 'nineties, as to how much of Maggie Tulliver 
is George Eliot, how truly was Romola a Florentine type, or as to 
the brittle quality of Rosamond Vincy, or the priggishness of 
Daniel Deronda. 

Will the volume result in creating an urge to reread the 
novels, to make a study anew to see if George Eliot's art may be 
compatible with the "twentieth century problem"? On the 
whole we think not. George Eliot's life will stand apart always, 
always engage profound interest, as a study of a human soul, and 
as a brilliant contribution to an amazingly brilliant group. But 
the novels will not appeal to modern youth, perhaps in part 
because they will be academic requirements, and in part because 
the type is notably that for the middle-aged. The whole content 
is based on the reflection of maturity. There was, too, a restricted 
emotional range. 

So she will remain, great in her own greatness with its limi 
tations, but a compelling study; and the middle-aged and 
academic may reread the novels and will always find interest in 
her life, partly, as Miss Haldane says, because a study of her life 
typifies the struggles and aspirations of a very distinguished 
woman, partly because it typifies the struggles and aspirations 
of a generation. 

Another student of clerical life was at work at this same time, 
who permitted himself, however, enchanting digressions in the 
hunting field as well as into the business world, and who set 
himself to a daily task of writing his novels with the same zeal, 
and practically on schedule, as he hunted three times a week and 
served Her Majesty's Government daily in the Post Office 
Department. Anthony Trollope outlived George Eliot by two 
years, but their friendship was a very real one. On one occasion 
when he was dining with her and the subject turned upon the 
modes of writing, and he told of his habit of writing even in winter 
"from half -past five till the breakfast gong", George Eliot 
groaned and said, "There are days together when I cannot write 
a line." "Oh, well," replied Trollope, "with imaginative work 
like yours that is quite natural; but with my mechanical stuff 


it's a sheer matter of industry." Industry played a large part, 
as the formidable list of his writings testifies, but it was not the 
whole, and his work was wide of the way of being "mechanical 
stuff"; evincing imaginative force, a zest for living, all the more 
remarkable when one recalls the early struggles the Autobiog 
raphy reveal. His ability to overcome obstacles was undoubtedly 
derived from the mother, Frances, whose own domestic manners 
seem to have been scarcely more alluring than those she found 
and reported on her visits to America. 

How much of importance his mother was in the Trollope 
family, however, may be judged by the space given to her and 
her inveterate travelling, by Mr. Sadleir in his new and admirable 
biography of Anthony Trollope. Here we find some fresh material 
relating to this other notable Victorian figure and the familiar 
and always delightful things for the Trollopians assembled and 
arranged in a way to provoke reading. In our day of exploiting 
the bourgeois, it is arresting to read Oliver Elton's saying that 
"George Eliot is apt to be hard on the upper bourgeois, and 
Trollope's light, unassuming way is really sounder than hers". 
Trollope's realism, on the other hand, made his pictures of social 
matters simply variants of the commonplace every day concerns, 
and he was not reclaiming a world, nor philosophizing about it, 
whether he viewed it from a Cathedral close or the Essex Downs, 
or the murk of London, but he was telling a story because he had 
a story to tell, which, as he said, was the novelist's business. 
But as Mr. Sadleir remarks of the novels, "their monotony is 
the monotony of ordinary existence", and they "violate the 
modish canons of good fiction, as constantly and as shamelessly 
as does life itself". 

Again the question, as in the case of George Eliot, presents 
itself: Are not all Trollopians middle-aged? Will the younger 
generation read the novels? We rather think they will. And 
perhaps a subtle reason may lie in the fact that there is such a 
word as "Trollopians"! Mr. Sadleir 's opening chapter on "The 
Voice of An Epoch" is an admirable restatement of Mid- Victorian 
England in terms of the twentieth century problem, and Mr. A. 
Edward Newton's Introduction indicates our indebtedness to 
him for this new Life. 



THE OLD COUNTESS. By Anne Douglas Sedgwick. Boston and New York : 
Houghton Mifflin Company. 

SHULE AGRA. By Kathleen Coyle. New York: E. P. Button and Com 

MR. FORTUNE'S MAGGOT. By Sylvia Townsend Warner. New York: 
The Viking Press. 

To THE LIGHTHOUSE. By Virginia Woolf. New York: Harcourt, Brace 
and Company. 

Edmond Scherer, to whom I have referred elsewhere, had this 
to say about women writing novels : "Women may write novels 
novels better than those of men, but not the same. Genius in 
their hands meets with, 'Thus far and no farther'." And 
Elizabeth Drew in The Modern Novel., says: "The creative genius 
of woman remains narrower than that of man, even in the novel. 
... In spite of equal education and equal opportunity, the 
scope of woman remains still smaller than the scope of man." 
A span of forty years lies between the writing of the first and the 
second criticism, but accepting this broad general principle 
which has, one must say regretfully, so continuously stood the 
test of time, the task of casually reviewing the random volumes 
before me simplifies itself. 

In brief, then, Anne Douglas Sedgwick, master technician 
that she is, barely averts an artistic catastrophe in The Old 
Countess. This venomous old Frenchwoman, whose senile love 
for the young English artist taxes credulity, the while it flicks 
and flays around the loves of Jill, his wife, and Marthe Luderac, 
carries on through the book till only the merciful Dorgogne 
rising to its flood furnishes the escape for Mrs. de Selincourt! 
The French country none knows better than she how to describe; 
nor the peasants of the villages; they are always deeply bitten in, 
as the etchers say. The mountainside village of Buissac, with 
the river "winding in majesty between its vast grey cliffs, its 
wooded gorges it was to the earth what an eagle is to the sky; 
a presence; a power; possessing what encompasses it." This 
power below and the "menacing sky" above menacing is the 
Old Countess's word are almost Greek in their brooding over 
the book from cover to cover. It is, perhaps, straining a point to 


force this symbolism. The novel has a certain distinction, of 
course, but not such artistry as Mrs. de Selincourt brought to 
The Little French Girl 

Ireland, the country round about Dublin, is the setting of 
Kathleen Coyle's new novel, Shule Agra, with all the implica 
tions such a frame suggests : A tale of the Young Intelligentsia, 
the English title for the book is Youth In The Saddle, centered 
about the Hassan family, beginning with the death of the father 
in an asylum. "I really cannot understand you young people!" 
exclaimed Mrs. Hassan petulantly. "Don't you feel anything?" 
There are all the familiar episodes, but the characters are rather 
finely drawn: Shule Agra, the girl; Roderick, her favorite brother, 
killed by the Civic Guards; Shanad, Shule's lover, the father of 
her unborn child, from whom she flees in the end after Roddy's 
death; a man called Lewis Roncus, a friend of her brother's, one 
of the best drawn, unless it be the old grandmother who makes 
the fine contrast. The style of writing is often confused, as the 
country of the writer, but there is a certain quality, half poetic, 
that makes for a sort of beauty. 

With Miss Warner's "small book out nice and new", as 
Catullus put it, Mr. Fortune's Maggot, and with the memory of 
Lolly Willowes, we can say further with the Latin poet that we 
have "upon her trifles set some store". Mr. Fortune's Maggot 
is a fantasy of an imaginary island of the South Seas, where the 
missionary efforts of the Reverend Timothy Fortune resulted in 
the conversion of but one soul, the boy Lueli. He is temporarily 
converted, one may say; indeed the adjective applies to the 
Reverend Timothy as well; and the book is delightful in its whim 
sicality and delicious humor. The long, unvarying days on this 
Polynesian island, like the roll of the Pacific's swell itself , provide 
the missionary with a new leisure. That and the fact that there 
was but the single convert, when he had fancied that, like 
sorrows, they would come in battalions, give him special op 
portunity to work upon the education of the lovable Lueli. The 


while the home life of the inhabitants goes on undisturbed, save 
only for the earthquake, which in its finality ends the Reverend 
Timothy's faith, his collar studs, and the second hand harmonium, 
"that domesticated instrument" with which he hoped to ensnare 
the islanders, and sends him back to the Archdeacon because 
he has been an unprofitable servant. All this but briefly outlines 
this Crusoe idyl. 

Genius in this most recent novel of Mrs. Virginia Woolf 
finds us in different case altogether. Here one parts with Miss 
Drew's view, certainly, for there is scope in this novel To the 
Lighthouse as wide as the sea itself, which beats its "listless 
chime" all through the pages, and makes the rhythm of this 
strangely moving story. The Ramsay family live by the sea. 
James Ramsay, aged six, the youngest of eight children, is prom 
ised by his beautiful mother that the next day they will go to the 
lighthouse, a day's sail away. The father, a sort of male Cas 
sandra, says it will rain. This is his view about everything, 
except his own books on metaphysics. Two-thirds of the book is 
given over to the evening, already spoiled for James by that 
insistence about rain, wherein one learns by most delicate 
traceries of this family of Ramsay s and their guests. The next 
part, Time has passed. Changes have come. The family have 
not been back to the sea. At the end some of them do come. 
James, indeed, now a lad of sixteen, sails his father to the light 
house. Scarcely more than this, out of which Virginia Woolf, 
with stroke after stroke, has fashioned such a fragment of beauty. 
At random one could choose passages that are like bits of still life: 

Now eight candles were stood down the table, and after the first stoop the 
flames were stood upright and drew with them into visibility the long table 
entire, and in the middle a yellow and purple dish of fruit. What had she 
done with it, Mrs. Ramsay wondered; for Rose's arrangement of the grapes 
and pears, of the horny pink-lined shell, of the bunch of bananas, made her 
think of a trophy fetched from the bottom of the sea, of Neptune's banquet, 
of the bunch that hangs like vine leaves over the shoulder of Bacchus (in some 
picture) among the leopard skins and the torches lolloping red and gold. . . . 

In The Common Reader we learned of Mrs. Woolf s critical 
gift. In Mrs. Dalloway, as well as in To the Lighthouse, we find 


that proper use of the economy of means which, however, in the 
hands of some novelists, so easily becomes parsimony in litera 
ture. Mrs. Woolf is an artist, and a rarely gifted one. 


York: Harper and Brothers. 

If one were to indulge oneself in playing with the numerous 
definitions of the grotesque, and then in turn apply them to this 
interesting grouping of Miss Canfield's critical estimates, one 
would on the whole find the summation in Ruskin's analysis, 
that it is the art, generally, of the wayside. That is, the art of 
recreative moments as opposed, as he says, to that which is the 
business of men's lives. This at least is the definition which we 
have chosen to fasten upon these delightful appreciations, press 
ing another point of Ruskin, that the noble grotesque involves 
the true appreciation of beauty; and that, indeed, Miss Canfield 
has. But her real concern is in the tragi -comedy of life, for those 
who find in the grotesque fear, the ironic laughter implicit in 
caricature, and she is, of course, quite right in asserting that 
"many caricatures do not reach the stature of true grotesque." 

The intention, in the architect's sense, is sound and sustained 
throughout this little volume, which touches in this wayside art 
so various subjects as "Mrs. Asquith in Person," "Eleonora 
Duse," "Augustus John," "Mon Ami Pierrot" an arch-gro 
tesque and, to us, the most imaginative and most tightly held 
together fancy, "Aphrodite B. C. 400." In them all are sharp 
ness of line, a hint of wistfulness, stark humor, and an accuracy 
of observation that she transmutes into the aptest of words. 
What one prefers most to remember is Miss Canfield's definition 
of good taste, "the aristocracy of the mind," which she so easily 



MORE AGO. The Editors.} 

That "there is nothing new under the sun" is strikingly exempli 
fied in the early numbers of THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW in 
discussions of matters almost identical with those now engaging 
public attention. Thus the state of Europe after the Napoleonic 
Wars closely resembled that following the World War; as shown by 
the eminent international publicist THEODORE LYMAN, in his 
review of Malthus's book on the Corn Laws in the issue for July, 1815: 

It would seem as if the eternal curse was again gone abroad "And I 
will put enmity between his seed and thy seed; it shall bruise thy head, and 
thou shalt bruise his heel." On the tranquil shores of our country we fondly, 
but perhaps falsely, cherish the maxim that we make war to obtain peace. 
But in Europe this humane principle unhappily appears to be reversed 
they make peace to renew war. What if these mighty masters have removed, 
or enlarged, or narrowed, the lines and boundaries of kingdoms? They have 
not rooted out or softened away the black and bloody propensities of the 
human heart. The fiery and rancorous passions of revenge, jealousy and 
ambition still remain, and will it not hereafter be seen that the subjugation 
of a powerful nation has made it regard with a deadly hate a large portion of 
Europe that before it only despised? 

Sectional rivalries and jealousies in the United States, such as 
have today been unhappily developed, were deprecated by WILLIAM 
TUDOR, JR., in the second issue of the REVIEW: 

The mind is dazzled in considering the advantages of our situation. The 
vast extent of the United States is open to industry, to establish itself in the 
most favorable spot for its peculiar pursuits, to exchange its produce with 
distant States, without duties, monopolies, or prohibitions. Every year 
witnesses some new manufacture in one district, some new product of the 
surface or the interior of the earth in another. The manufactures of the North 
and the rich products of the South exchanged without restriction; without 
jealous rivalries to depress, counteracting duties, prohibitions, and personal 
restraints, to force this district to produce what another can do more ad 
vantageously; how rapid, how great, must be the prosperity that will ensue! 


The advantages of our situation are so obvious, the general effect is so genial, 
that we can hardly bring ourselves to believe that local prejudices, mean jeal 
ousies, base political intrigues, and shortsighted impracticable attempts of 
one section to trample on the feelings and interests of another, will ever be 
suffered to destroy this fortunate national condition. 

That the present tendency to lessen the number of church meetings 
and to substitute musical and liturgical services for long sermons is 
no new thing, is attested by a letter to the Editor of THE NORTH 
AMERICAN REVIEW in May, 1815: 

There are some points of practice in religious worship, nearly similar in all 
the States of the Union, so far as my experience extends, which it has been 
sometimes thought might be altered advantageously. . . . The first altera 
tion I would propose is in the hours of worship in the afternoon. It would be 
better that this service should commence at a later hour. The fatigue and 
effort to a clergyman, who officiates twice after so short an interval, must be 
greater than it would be if the second meeting were later in the day. 

In the next place, are two discourses necessary, or, all circumstances con 
sidered, advantageous? Is not delivering two sermons a week a greater task 
than most or even any clergyman can well perform, in addition to other pa 
rochial duties? Would not a single discourse, which, it may reasonably be 
inferred, would be composed with more care and ability, produce more good 
than is now usually done by two? Does not the multiplicity of sermons in 
some measure weaken their effect? 

Allow me then to suggest, for the consideration of the clergy and all re 
flecting men, whether the time of the second service may not be changed 
for the better, so that it should become what it was originally intended to be, 
an evening service; that the sermon should be delivered in the morning; and 
the evening service should have the vacancy of the sermon supplied by larger 
portions of the Scriptures, and of sacred music. 

The prominence of the Kingdom of Serbia in world affairs today 
contrasts strongly with its obscurity a century ago, as remarked up 
on by JARED SPARKS in October, 1827: 

If we run our eyes over the map of European Turkey, we shall discover in 
its northwestern borders a small province called Servia, laved on the north by 
the waters of "the dark rolling Danube", and on the south separated from 
Albania and Macedonia by ridges of lofty mountains. History has recorded 
little to acquaint us with the origin, government, and character of the in 
habitants of Servia. Gibbon leaves them, as he had found them, nearly in 
the dark, and comforts his readers with observing that the country which they 
inhabit is one of the most hidden regions of Europe. 


EDWARD EVERETT indicated, in the REVIEW of October, 1827, 
that in the golden age of WEBSTER and CLAY popular esteem of Con 
gressional oratory was little different from that of today: 

The Congressional eloquence of America is, we think, in no high repute 
among ourselves. We do not refer merely to the habitual sarcasm or ridi 
cule thrown upon it, mostly for purposes of personal satire or party de 
traction. To this kind of reproach every part of the machinery of a free 
government is ever obnoxious. Where the press is free, men will joke their 
political opponents, and the English Parliament is as sadly quizzed as the 
American Congress. If classical authority be wanted, Pericles was the great 
butt of the satirists of his day. But we apprehend that in America the 
matter goes a little farther than this. The debates in Congress appear to us to 
be spoken disrespectfully of by many of the judicious portion of the com 
munity; of that portion who really say less than they feel and think, and whose 
censure deserves to be listened to. 

The confusion of clock time which in many places exists under our 
mixture of t( day light saving" and "standard" systems was paralleled 
a hundred and twelve years ago, according to a writer in September, 

I address you on a subject which causes some inconvenience here, and 
probably the same difficulty exists in other parts of the United States; this 
is the irregularity and diversity of time. There is no common standard, and 
every district is regulated by a clock of its own. The difference between the 
time in Boston and the villages about it is always considerable, and in some 
instances it varies upwards of half an hour. There is this difference at least 
between Salem and Boston; this often interferes with appointments in business, 
and in certain circumstances a criminal might be able to prove an alibi on this 
very ground. 

WILLIAM HICKLING PRESCOTT, the distinguished historian, in 
his review of DISRAELI'S "Vivian Grey" in July, 1827, indicated 
that "best sellers" were then proportionately as numerous as they 
are today: 

This is, emphatically, the age of novel writing ; and as such will be undoubtedly 
characterized in the annals of English literature. We of the present genera 
tion can hardly estimate our own good fortune, in having lighted upon this 
prolific and entertaining epoch. Thrice blessed is the man who first devised 
these agreeable fictions; which so sweetly soothe the dull ear of sickness; exalt 
the fainting spirit with draughts that "cheer but not inebriate"; brighten the 
horrors of a rainy day; dispel the tedium of a winter's evening; and even give 


zest and animation to that saddest of all earthly formalities, a family party. 
Who has not witnessed the instantaneous effect produced on the dull, invariable 
visages of such a circle, by the appearance of the novel; the muscle dilated into 
the sympathetic smile; or the eye, as the plot deepens, suffused with the tear 
of sensibility; while the reader, animated by the magical effects of his own 
voice, secretly imputes to himself half the merit which belongs to his author. . . . 
The press daily, nay hourly, teems with works of fiction, of no contemptible 
quality; the dry precepts of morality are seasoned with the sallies of a lively 
wit; barren historical fact is adorned with the graceful coloring of taste and 
sentiment; the muse of history, indeed, has condescended to take this part of 
fiction under her especial care; characters, modes of thought, and habits of 
society, are depicted with singular fidelity; novels and romances, no longer 
unprofitable, become the pleasing vehicles of truth; and thus, in spite of the 
old adage, a royal road has been opened to much genuine and substantial 

The recent determination of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad 
Company to resume the old practice of naming locomotives after 
Presidents of the United States and other eminent men recalls the 
circumstance that just a century ago PETER HOFFMAN CRUISE, 
Editor of "The Baltimore American" wrote in THE NORTH 
AMERICAN REVIEW of July, 1827, concerning the inception of that 
pioneer American railroad: 

A charter was obtained from the States of Maryland and Virginia for a 
Company called the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad Company, with a capital of 
three millions and the power of extending it to five, in shares of one hundred 
dollars each; a million to be subscribed by the State, half a million by the cor 
poration of Baltimore, and a million and a half by individuals. On the opening 
of the books in March, more than the total amount was subscribed in a few 
days, by individuals alone. 

Little known as railroads are in America, and their more extended use not 
fully proved in England, the scheme is certainly a bold one, of constructing a 
road of this sort, not less than two hundred and fifty miles in length, and sur 
mounting an elevation of three thousand feet. 

The substitution of railroads for canals, which appears to be generally 
contemplated in England, is rendered by some circumstances of climate still 
more advantageous in this country than in that. . . . While the cost of con 
struction and repair is less the facility of transport on a railway is greater (than 
on a canal) as regards both expense and time. It is computed that the time 
saved by the railroad on each trip from the Ohio to Baltimore would be one 
hundred and fifty-two hours, and that even at the rate of four miles an hour 
(which, it is believed may be doubled) the whole distance may be performed in 
sixty-two hours and a half. 


"An Old-Fashioned Voice" 

From The Boston Transcript 

We have among the reviews and magazines of this country so many of those 
disturbing voices which, without violence to the sound principles of vocalism, 
we may fairly call "raucous", that it is very cheering to have among the 
periodicals a good old-fashioned clear and confident American voice like that 
with which THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW greets us every quarter. The only 
thing to be regretted in connection with the REVIEW'S "high-sounding Peh- 
levi" is that it is heard only once in three months. It is good when we get it. 

THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW, which has had many ownerships and man 
agements since James Russell Lowell so ably edited it in this city, has lately 
passed under new editorship and control, at the head of it being Mr. Walter 
Butler Mahony. It has a brilliant list of contributors, who keep the magazine 
quite abreast of the times in the consideration of subjects; and the leading 
thing about it is its very sturdy Americanism of the constitutional type. An 
unusual feature is the regular opening of the REVIEW with a series of editorials 
on the affairs of the world a thorough boxing of the compass of national and 
international topics. Whoever reads and heeds these articles will at least 
know "where he is at", for the REVIEW is not mealy-mouthed in any particu 
lar. , 

"On Sturdy Legs" 

From The Brooklyn Eagle, New York 

THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW has stood for 111 years on sturdy Yankee 
legs. Established in Boston in 1815, it has for many years been naturalized 
in New York. . . . No American monthly has reached the age of THE 
NORTH AMERICAN or has performed higher service for American letters. 

"The New Old North American" 

From The New York Times 

The first number of THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW under its new editor 
ship appears in a different cover. A change of color or of printing is easy to 
achieve. The real question is whether there is to be found a quality which 
"doth apparel the apparel." On this score the new departure is promising. 
There is no ostentatious infusion of spice or sensationalism in the magazine. 


The range of topics is wide, but the selection is discreet, and the aim apparently 
is to secure writers who are entertaining as well as authoritative. Certainly 
this first table of contents is such as to whet the appetite for more. 

" More Human than Ever" 

From The Constitution, Atlanta, Ga. 

Since Walter B. Mahony took over the editorship of THE NORTH AMERICAN 
REVIEW, that famous old magazine is larger, better and infinitely more human 
than ever. It maintains its literary standard, which has always set a pace 
among magazines, but at the same time it gets closer to current affairs than 
ever before. . . . [Its] discussion of world events runs the gamut from the 
Chinese crisis to the flickering of flaming youth, and . . . [its] discussions are 
snappy, appealing and intensely learned and interesting. Special subjects 
are handled by masters of those subjects rather than by professional writers. 
It is a very much improved REVIEW under the new editorship. 

"An American Institution" 

From The News, Dallas, Texas 

The occasion is one for congratulation of this hardy pioneer in one field of 
American letters, a magazine that has had a long and distinguished line of 
editorial succession. ... As Walter Butler Mahony succeeds Allen Thorndike 
Rice in the editorial sanctum, it is more impressive that THE REVIEW has 
maintained a distinctive character as an American institution, colored, it is 
true, by New England, for its editors have been without exception sons of that 
section, but essentially a product of home stock, that it has 'fathered a fine 
school of American writing, and that it remains today, in the chaotic rush of 
the magazines of the jazz age, an essentially sound and readable inspiration 
to the level-headed. 

"An Immortal Spirit" 

From The Times Star, Cincinnati, Ohio 

If it could boast of no other distinction, THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW 
could unabashedly point to its record for going on and on, no matter what 
happens. Wars come and go, nations rise and fall, THE NORTH AMERICAN 
REVIEW is still on the job. Famous editors served their terms and were suc 
ceeded by other famous editors. . . . They gave it an immortal spirit and 
their successors have "carried on". Now Walter B. Mahony is in command 
and THE REVIEW has taken on even new life, if the first issue under his direc 
tion is a criterion. 


Views of an Expert 


May I, as one who spends his life absorbing magazines and newspapers, 
congratulate you on the tout ensemble of the new NORTH AMERICAN? Your 
current comment is as safe, sane and conservative as we should expect it to be 
(THE N. A. R. has sometimes been elephantine but never frisky), but you have 
managed to get clean away from the ponderosity from which quarterlies 
traditionally suffer. 

The psychology of the magazine reader is simple. He opens the magazine 
at random, and reads the first article he comes to. If he likes it he goes on and 
reads others. If it bores him, he goes to sleep or picks up another magazine. 
I read no less than five of the articles in your current number, in addition to the 
Affairs of the World, before coming to one with what you New Yorkers call a 
"sleep punch" in it. That is a very good record, though you, as an Editor 
(I have been one myself), probably feel that every well conducted reader should 
devour the whole thing from cover to cover. 

Now for a little fulsome criticism. You have five articles dealing with 
Business. We effete Britishers, who regard business as a disagreeable neces 
sity and a magazine as a handy way of escaping it, would think this three too 
many. You give Science a complete miss, though today science and not busi 
ness or politics is running the world. Finally you ignore Literature except in 
the way of criticism. One article at least, written for writing's sake, would 
have embellished, in my opinion, your admirable number. 

Of course the one real criticism to be offered is that it is a pity so admirable a 
periodical as you are giving us should appear only once in three months. I do 
not want to forget before the next number appears how good the last number 
was. You would be more than justified in publishing once a month, for things 
move at least thrice as rapidly today as when THE N. A. R. first saw the light. 
Once a month is the ideal interval. Continuity is maintained, and yet you 
have not your nose too flattened against affairs in the making, as the weeklies 
and dailies have, to be able to see them in proper perspective. 

There used to be a "pub" in Dublin I don't know if it is there yet called 
"The Old Grinding Young." A large signboard depicted the process which 
was effected, one gathered, by the landlord's "malt". You are performing a 
like service to THE N. A. R. Your middle name should be Metchnikoff. I 
have finished. 

London, England. 

Mingle Blame with Praise 


... I like its variety and balance very much. The latter especially is as 
desirable as it is rare. But if you can maintain the standard of this number 
you will have gone a long way. 


Now to be impertinent, perhaps, I was sorry to see so definite a note of 
partizanship in the REVIEW'S own utterances. . . . A weightier reason for 
my feeling about this is that such incidental aspects of affairs belong in the 
discussions of daily and weekly periodicals. Monthly, and especially quar 
terly, journals have an opportunity to deal with tendencies, with complete, 
not partial, developments, with the sweep that belongs to the historian rather 
than the mere chronicler. We are getting nothing of this in America just now, 
and if you should come to it it would be, I am convinced, an extraordinary 
opportunity for you. 

I do like the REVIEW though. If you don't make a real success of it I shall 
be very greatly surprised. 

The World, New York. 

A Significant Use 


Please send us one copy of THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW for December, 
January and February. We are very much in need of this for debating and 
must have it immediately. 


(President of the Agricultural and 
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Impressed with Its Tone 


I am impressed with its literary tone and the discrimination in the 
selection of topics. I am sure you are going to find your secure place in the 
world and continue the high reputation of the magazine. 


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THAT Mr. Coolidge will be the candidate of the Republican 
Party in 1928 seems to be inevitable, notwithstanding his much 
discussed statement that he does not "choose" to be. To fore 
cast his nomination, by a practically unanimous Convention, 
is not to indulge in political prophecy but simply to apply the 
rigid logic of realism to the present political situation. He does 
not choose to be a candidate for reelection, but he cannot refuse 
to be chosen. 

Unquestionably, Calvin Coolidge is incomparably the strongest 
man in the Republican Party. He is so far ahead of all other 
possible aspirants for the nomination in the popular regard, so far 
remote in the rear is his nearest rival, that to speak of him as a 
competitor is almost silly. There is no personal reflection upon, 
nor criticism of, any individual implied in this statement. 
There are abler men than Mr. Coolidge in his party, men who 
possess more of the qualities of statesmanship, but they do not 
command his great influence over the minds of the great mass of 
the people. Coolidge is first and foremost. There is no second. 
The sandy-haired Vermonter commands the situation in manner 
and fashion almost unprecedented. There are few parallels in 
our political history to Calvin Coolidge's position as the year 
1927 wanes. 

Copyright, 1927, by North American Review Corporation. All rights reserved. 
VOL. ccxxiv. NO. 836 22 


Those who were believed to know Coolidge the politician more 
intimately than perhaps anybody else, and whose opinions were 
respected accordingly, have long intimated that he would not be 
an active candidate for the nomination; that he would use 
none of the enormous power inseparable from the high office he 
holds to promote the movement for his renomination. For this 
attitude Mr. Coolidge has been hailed with a mighty chorus of 
sincere praise. A host of people regarded it as a generous and 
noble renunciation of personal advantage, inspired by a high 
sense of rectitude and political righteousness, rarely experienced 
by politicians; the instinctive expression of a New England con 
science, uniquely sensitive, dominated by an extraordinary sense 
of social obligation. 

Whether these self-appointed interpreters have really known 
more about Mr. Coolidge's attitude than the rest of us, or whether, 
as is more likely, they have been just guessing, is of no importance 
at all. All that matters is that they have been almost certainly, 
even demonstrably, right. The "I do not choose to be" state 
ment proves that. But there is no virtue in the Coolidge at 
titude. There is no renunciation of personal advantage under 
the urge of a domineering sense of righteousness. That interpre 
tation of his motives is simply another illustration of the ease with 
which romanticism displaces realism in the mass mind. Of 
course, the illusion is a political factor of significance: the paean of 
praise it evokes will be of no slight influence in the Republican 
National Convention and in the campaign. Mr. Coolidge is too 
astute a politician to overlook its import, and too practical to 
find it unwelcome or to decline to profit thereby. He is under no 
obligation to discredit the romanticism. 


The dour Vermonter who so greatly resembles the hills among 
which he was cradled, and the rocky soil which nurtured his boy 
hood, though his dourness is obscured in public in large measure 
by the benignity and charm of Mrs. Coolidge, is very human. 
If I know anything at all of humanity, that stern visage masks a 
sensitive nature. He may look like a graven image, but in fact 


he is very human. If, wanting the nomination, he believed that 
using the vast influence of his office, and of the system of political 
patronage by which it is buttressed, would insure his renomina- 
tion, which would otherwise be uncertain, he would use them to 
the limit, as all his predecessors have done, though with greater 
adroitness than most of them have shown. He is intensely 
human; he is not quixotic. 

With his uncanny political insight, almost clairvoyant, Mr. 
Coolidge knows that he does not have to exert himself in order to 
get the nomination. He does not need to decide to be a candi 
date; that will be decided for him. He shrewdly perceives that 
an ostensibly passive role on his part is dictated by the political 
situation, and the political outlook as far as it can be envisaged to 
date. He does not "choose" to be a candidate, but I believe 
that he will be chosen and that he is superbly confident that the 
nomination will be brought to him on the proverbial silver platter. 
He will not volunteer, but expects to be drafted. In the vernacu 
lar of his native State, all that he has to do is "just set". If 
people interpret his attitude as a virtuous renunciation, and 
shower upon him praises which presage votes, he will not repu 
diate them or correct them, but continue to "just set", awaiting 
the call that admits no refusal. There is no deception in this, 
no taint of dishonesty. There is a political shrewdness, to be 
sure, but it is not incompatible with complete honesty of an 
austere quality. As serenely as generations of his ancestors and 
their friends waited patiently for the long winters to pass, 
confident in the promise that "seed-time and harvest shall not 
fail", so he is content to wait in patience for the fulfillment of his 
clearly-visioned destiny. 


Those in both the great political parties who so loudly and 
confidently predict that the traditional prejudice against a third 
term in the Presidency will prove an insurmountable obstacle to 
those who would renominate Mr. Goolidge are, in my judgment, 
doomed to bitter disappointment. The great mass of the elec 
torate will either ignore it completely or laugh it to scorn as an 
objection that is inconsequential, immaterial and irrelevant. 


The American people are not fools. There are fools a-plenty 
in the electorate, of course, and the perils of the herd mind are 
undeniable, but there is not among all the vociferous protesters 
against the "third term peril" anything like the strength of the 
other side the skeptical, the indifferent, the thoughtful minority 
that has probed and penetrated the hollowness of the protest. 
This latter element is destined to prove Mr. Coolidge's invincible 
defense, an effective bulwark preventing the spread of the anti- 
third term idea as a factor in the campaign. This powerful 
minority is made up of patriots. They hold in honor the deci 
sions and admonitions of Washington and Jefferson against the 
perils of repeated nominations to the Presidency over a long 
period of years. They know the circumstances under which those 
admonitions were uttered, the peril to a republican and repre 
sentative form of government which those admonitions challenged 
and denounced. They honor the doctrine that has become so 
important a part of our political tradition and heritage. 

These patriots know that neither Washington nor Jefferson, 
nor any of the Fathers, had in mind the case of a Vice-President 
called upon under the Constitution to assume the duties of the 
Presidency in the event of the death or disability of the elected 
incumbent of that office. None of these revered Fathers ever 
suggested that the Vice-President, to whom death or other 
disaster brought this duty prescribed by the Constitution, should 
be penalized for the faithful discharge of his duty, and debarred 
from the right accorded to all other persons to seek election for 
the Presidency for two terms upon the basis of his own appeal to 
the electorate. There is something revolting in such an inter 
pretation of the rule as that. It is demons trably and grossly un 
fair to any man who happens to be Vice-President to deny his 
right to election and reelection to the Presidency, simply because 
the President dies in office, or is rendered incapable of performing 
his duties, requiring the Vice-President to assume the task of 
"Acting President" for the unfulfilled part of the term, whether 
that be longer or shorter. 

That interpretation of a salutary and wholesome rule of 
practice is contrary to the instincts of fair play, the sense of 
sportsmanship that is part of our Anglo-Saxon heritage. It 


would be a dangerous innovation, a menace to our constitutional 
integrity, to erect a rule having all the force of a Constitutional 
provision, limiting any man's right to the Presidency to a single 
elective term. That is the practical effect of stretching the rule 
formulated by Washington and Jefferson to such a case as that of 

As a matter of fact and of law, Mr. Coolidge will have been 
President only four years when his present term expires. During 
the nineteen months of the term for which President Harding was 
elected, when he discharged the duties of the office, Mr. Coolidge 
was not President in law or in fact, but simply Acting President 
in conformity with his Constitutional duties as Vice-President. 
That, in accordance with established precedent, he was sworn in 
as President, does not alter the fact. By the clear terms of the 
Constitution, as Vice-President he had already sworn to assume 
the duties of the President in the event of such an emergency 
arising. It was his duty as Vice-President. There is not in the 
Constitution any suggestion of warrant for a new oath in such 
circumstances. This point, made in the United States Senate 
in the case of W. H. Harrison's successor, Vice-President Tyler, 
has never, I believe, been challenged by any Constitutional 

Suppose that Mr. Coolidge in that tragic hour, looking forward 
with a single eye to his personal political fortunes, had declined 
to take a new oath, upon the solid and unchallengeable Constitu 
tional ground that the oath he had taken as Vice-President was 
ample and, precedents notwithstanding, the only oath required 
or recognized by the Constitution. Suppose, further, that he 
had signed all documents "Calvin Coolidge, Acting President". 
He would have moved into the White House; Congress would 
undoubtedly have voted him the President's rate of salary and 
expenses fear as to which seems to have been Tyler's great 
incentive. In a word, in actual fact he would have done all that 
he actually did do and exercised every power he exercised during 
those nineteen months of Harding's term. Yet in such circum 
stances the third term issue would not have existed, and any 
attempt to raise it against him would have been greeted with 
Homeric laughter. The status of Mr. Coolidge was in nowise 


changed by the fact that, following precedent, he went through 
that meaningless ceremony at Plymouth and took an unnecessary, 
irrelevant and unauthorized oath, administered by his father by 
the light of a kerosene lamp. Our over- vigilant defenders of the 
national tradition need to be reminded of these things, and of 
the dangerous and revolutionary discriminatory rule they are 
attempting to establish with all the force of the Constitution 


Mr. Coolidge is the only man in his party of whom it can be 
confidently said that his nomination is practically equal to his 
election. There is no mystery at all about his unapproachable 
supremacy as a candidate. It is a curious thing that his ad 
mitted limitations actually add to his power as a candidate, and 
therefore to his availability. That can be said with truth, I 
think, of no other man in his party. He has not been particularly 
or notably successful in dealing with Congress, for example. He 
has been defeated on issues of cardinal importance. He has 
failed to get the unanimous support of his own party in the 
Congress on administrative policies of high import. He has had 
his veto of an important measure overridden. His nominations 
and appointments have been held up and rejected. All this, 
however, does not lessen the regard in which he is held by his 
countrymen. One explanation is, of course, that there is no 
respect for Congress in the country. Both branches of the 
Congress are held in contempt by millions of citizens, contempt 
that has no parallel or precedent in our history. Times have 
changed. Time was, and not so long ago, when the failure of the 
President successfully to lead Congress, especially when the 
majority was of his own party, subjected him to severe criticism. 
It was held to be a weakness. Today the attitude of the public 
is changed. The opposition of Congress enhances popular esteem 
for the President. 

The greatest strength of Mr. Coolidge as a vote-getter, which 
is the test of his availability as a candidate, is his commonplace- 
ness, his lack of intellectual or other distinction separating him 
too far from the average man. Both in his mentality and his 


swerved by some illusion. For example, a desire to find a short 
cut to relief for the farmer may lead to an acceptance of dangerous 
experimentation at the expense and peril of the hydro-electric 
industry. Mr. Coolidge alone of the possible and available 
candidates in both parties is regarded as being absolutely immune 
against this romanticism. The enormous importance of this 
attitude is self-evident. 


Even in the difficult domain of foreign policy, where he has been 
subject to the intensest and bitterest criticism, and where, if the 
truth is to be told, he has exasperated many of the most sympa 
thetic of his well-wishers, Mr. Coolidge has earned a notable 
popular vindication. His critics have cried "Wolf!" too often. 
They have repeatedly proclaimed the imminence of war in Mex 
ico, have viewed the Administration's Mexican policy with alarm 
and denounced it in unmeasured terms. The obvious fact is, 
however, that, notwithstanding the defects of that policy, our 
relations with Mexico are better than they have been for a long 
time. The alarmists have been discomfited by the results at 
tained. The same thing may be said of Nicaragua, that land of 
habitual revolt, where revolution is the normal state of being. 
How madly the Coolidge Administration has been denounced! 
With what certitude we have been assured that war attended with 
the peril of a wide-spread conflict involving most of our neighbors 
to the South and ourselves was the inevitable outcome of our 
policy in Nicaragua, which, be it borne in mind, has been the long 
established American policy! In fact, nothing of the sort has 
happened and the policy so assailed has been amply justified by 
the outcome thus far. 

The serenity with which Mr. Coolidge and his advisers have 
ignored the persistent propaganda for the reversal of our Russian 
policy, and the recognition of the present Russian Government, 
has commanded the confidence of the American people as well as 
stirred their pride. It has demonstrated both courage and 
stability, admirable qualities in any department of government, 
but particularly so in the regulation of foreign relations. More 
over, the policy has been completely vindicated by the sensa- 


policy of increasing the horsepower behind each worker, in other 
words uninterrupted enlargement of electric power in industry. 
These things, in turn, require resistance to any encroachments of 
Government in the industrial field; the largest possible freedom 
for industrial enterprise and expansion with the smallest inter 
ference by Government that is compatible with social safety. 
Government must be kept out of industrial enterprise. Regula 
tory devices must be conceived, not in a spirit of hostility to private 
or corporate enterprise, but in full sympathy with it. Both 
groups are equally at war with all schemes of Government 
ownership and nationalization, which Organized Labor so often 
espoused in the past as a menace to Capital. 

Of this view of the industrial situation among all the possible 
candidates, in either party, Mr. Coolidge is the most dependable 
champion. Resistance to economic short-cuts and ready-made 
solutions is instinctive, bred into his very fibre. Individualism 
is not an acquired intellectual concept in his case; it is the founda 
tion of his intellectual and moral life. It is in the warp and woof 
of his heritage and his training, handed on by his Vermont 
ancestry and favored by all his kind. That individualism, let 
me hasten to add, has nothing in common with the reckless and 
oppressive individualism of certain well-defined social groups and 
types. It bears no likeness to the arrogant and domineering 
individualism of certain upstarts and newly rich. Neither does it 
bear resemblance or relation to that early industrial individual 
ism which "ground the faces of the poor" and crushed childhood 
for sordid gain. It is the individualism of the Vermonter, hold 
ing nothing anti-social, involving neither envy nor hatred nor 
malice; its roots are the glowing pride of men in their conquests of 
wilderness and forest, pride in their strength and independence, 
pride in their contemptuous rejection of charity or any other form 
of buttressing. 

On this dominant quality in the intellectual and moral being 
of Calvin Coolidge, the ablest and wisest leaders of both the 
groups under discussion rely, with a measure of confidence they 
can feel toward no other individual whose name has even been 
mentioned as a possibility. There is no equal assurance that 
even the most conservative of these will not at some time be 


swerved by some illusion. For example, a desire to find a short 
cut to relief for the farmer may lead to an acceptance of dangerous 
experimentation at the expense and peril of the hydro-electric 
industry. Mr. Coolidge alone of the possible and available 
candidates in both parties is regarded as being absolutely immune 
against this romanticism. The enormous importance of this 
attitude is self-evident. 


Even in the difficult domain of foreign policy, where he has been 
subject to the intensest and bitterest criticism, and where, if the 
truth is to be told, he has exasperated many of the most sympa 
thetic of his well-wishers, Mr. Coolidge has earned a notable 
popular vindication. His critics have cried "Wolf!" too often. 
They have repeatedly proclaimed the imminence of war in Mex 
ico, have viewed the Administration's Mexican policy with alarm 
and denounced it in unmeasured terms. The obvious fact is, 
however, that, notwithstanding the defects of that policy, our 
relations with Mexico are better than they have been for a long 
time. The alarmists have been discomfited by the results at 
tained. The same thing may be said of Nicaragua, that land of 
habitual revolt, where revolution is the normal state of being. 
How madly the Coolidge Administration has been denounced! 
With what certitude we have been assured that war attended with 
the peril of a wide-spread conflict involving most of our neighbors 
to the South and ourselves was the inevitable outcome of our 
policy in Nicaragua, which, be it borne in mind, has been the long 
established American policy! In fact, nothing of the sort has 
happened and the policy so assailed has been amply justified by 
the outcome thus far. 

The serenity with which Mr. Coolidge and his advisers have 
ignored the persistent propaganda for the reversal of our Russian 
policy, and the recognition of the present Russian Government, 
has commanded the confidence of the American people as well as 
stirred their pride. It has demonstrated both courage and 
stability, admirable qualities in any department of government, 
but particularly so in the regulation of foreign relations. More 
over, the policy has been completely vindicated by the sensa- 


tional reversal of the British attitude toward the Soviet regime 
which had been held up as an example for America to copy. 

It is when we come to the great issue of over-shadowing im 
portance, our cooperation with the European Powers to insure 
world peace and to prevent further wars, that the foreign policy 
of the Coolidge Administration is seen at its worst. Even Mr. 
Coolidge's most ardent admirers can hardly claim that he has 
shown any brilliant leadership here. There is no note of moral 
enthusiasm or inspiration in anything that Mr. Coolidge has said 
or written or anything that has emanated from the State Depart 
ment. Over-cautiousness suggesting timidity and the lack of a 
realistic conception of the problems inhering in the war's after 
math are features of this phase of our foreign policy. 

When all this has been said, no matter with what emphasis or 
feeling, it remains to be admitted, by whoever would be credited 
with combined candor and political perception, that the Coolidge 
policy, notwithstanding its serious defects, would on a test vote, 
if that were possible, receive the endorsement of an overwhelming 
majority of the American people. The explanation of this is 
simple enough: the immediate practical effect of the Coolidge 
policy, here at home, is to maintain tranquillity. It averts the 
disturbance and the need for quick readjustments, particularly 
in the financial world, which any considerable changes in our 
policy with respect to the issues enumerated must make inevit 
able and imperative, as every candid advocate of such changes 
must admit. It is that tranquillizing effect, on our domestic 
affairs, of a policy which without unfairness can be described as 
essentially a policy of non-action, that satisfies the mass of the 
American people and can be relied upon to get their abundant 
vindication whenever and however the issue is raised in such 
manner as to make a test possible. 

Moreover, things have drifted in Europe so that the danger of 
fresh outbreaks of war now looms ominously on the political 
horizon. Our past inaction is, many of us think, partly respon 
sible for this condition and the drifting that has led to it. Be 
that as it may, the foundation of foreign policy must always be 
present reality, not past events. Our national interest, and even 
duty, is to avoid being drawn into any such European war. So, 


on the basis of present realities, the foreign policy of the Coolidge 
Administration receives new vindication. The worst and weak 
est phase of that policy has become its best and strongest. 


Finally, it must be frankly admitted that a potent, and pos 
sibly a determinate, factor is the wave of reaction which has 
swept over the greater part of the civilized world. The tragic 
experiences of Russia with Communism and Bolshevism and, to a 
lesser extent, certain other countries, have set up in nearly all 
industrial nations a defensive force that has inevitably become 
aggressively reactionary. Rarely indeed in modern times has 
there been such wide-spread reaction, so completely entrenched 
beyond challenge, so fiercely determined to resist change at all 
cost and preserve the sacred status quo. The Reds have pro 
duced reaction with a vengeance. 

That this widespread and resolute opposition to political and 
social change, to social and economic experiments of all kinds, 
will add enormously to the strength of Mr. Coolidge and his 
chances of renomination, cannot be reasonably doubted. This 
does not mean that either Mr. Coolidge himself or his Adminis 
tration is to be classed as reactionary. That charge cannot be 
truthfully brought against either. Mr. Coolidge is conservative, 
to be sure, and so is his Administration, but both are tempered 
by a certain humanitarianism, a keen appreciation of the need of 
constantly raising the standard of comfort and the economic 
security of the people. It is a conservatism modified by a sense 
of the need of progress that is far from reactionary. All that is 
implied in my argument is that the prevailing temper is against 
change and for the maintenance of the status quo. 

Partly because of certain admirable qualities of mind and 
character, yet scarcely less because of limitations which under 
other conditions would have weakened him, and perhaps made 
his renomination impossible, Calvin Coolidge is practically 
assured of renomination and reelection. This is my belief as a 
political independent. Honesty requires me to add that I see in 
the prospect nothing unwelcome or calling for regret. 



"I DO not choose to run for President in 1928." 
The "adequate brevity" of this sentence, coupled with the 
time and method of its delivery, reveals many of the reasons why 
the women of the Republican party choose President Coolidge as 
the candidate of their party to succeed himself as Chief Executive. 
By keeping his own counsel, a life-long attribute of Mr. Coolidge, 
he held a great advantage over any possible candidate of either 
party. Why did he declare himself at this time? The answer is 
open for all to read in his record as a public servant, and in his 
ideals and beliefs as to the conduct befitting one chosen to serve 
the people. 

When he was President of the Massachusetts Senate and his 
friends urged him to become a candidate for Lieutenant-Gov- 
ernor, he would not commit himself until the Senate adjourned. 
Asked why he did not announce his candidacy earlier, he replied: 

I could not have acted like myself if I had announced my candidacy during 
the session. No matter what I did or said, it would have been misconstrued, 
and there would have been thirty-nine candidates to succeed me as President 
of the Senate. It would have interfered with the public business of the 

It is obvious that had President Coolidge maintained his silence 
at the present time, the jockeying for position and the endeavor 
to make political capital out of every public question during the 
coming session of Congress would have practically paralyzed the 
public business of the Nation, and would have subjected the 
President's every action to possible misconstruction. 

Later, in January, 1920, soon after his inauguration as Gov 
ernor of Massachusetts, he made another unsolicited announce 
ment, which throws light on the present situation, in fact, clearly 
explains it. Friends, supporters and the public press had placed 
him before the eyes of the nation as a possible candidate for 
President. Surprising his friends and embarrassing his self- 
appointed campaign managers, he said: 


The people are entitled to know that their office is to be administered not 
for my benefit, but for their benefit, and that I am not placing myself in any 
position where any other object could be inferred. There must be no imputa 
tion, however unfounded, that I permit their office to be used anywhere for 
manipulated purposes. ... I have not been and I am not a candidate for 

In that clear presentation, there was no political adroitness, but 
an unmistakable sincerity. But it is illuminating to note that 
the National Convention "chose" him as their candidate for 
Vice-President, and he bowed to the will of his party. It is 
logical to assume that had the delegates expressed in convention 
their choice of Calvin Coolidge as candidate of the Republican 
Party for President, he would have accepted that mandate as 
superior to his own personal desires. 

Just as clearly and unmistakably in this announcement that he 
does not "choose to run", i.e., be a candidate for President in 
1928, Mr. Coolidge has taken his administration of the great office 
of Chief Executive of the Nation out of the realm of political 
manipulation, which enables him "to counsel not with desire, 
but with duty ". It leaves the people free to express their choice, 
and the party free to pick the candidate best fitted to be their 
standard bearer. 

Surprising, unexpected and dramatic as has been this decision 
of President Coolidge, it has already become an added and 
powerful reason why Republican women will enthusiastically 
urge his nomination. 

Upon what acts of President Coolidge's Administration, what 
phases of his career, or what qualities of mind and person, do 
women base their ideas and judgment of his fitness? Answers to 
these queries reveal as many reasons as there are individuals; in 
the main, however, two fundamental reasons stand out, and upon 
them all the women agree in substance, though not in order of 

Women in politics, i.e., definitely identified with the party or 
ganization or serving in public office, state that his record as 
Chief Executive reveals so high an order of statesmanship, sec 
onded by his uprightness of personal character, that his candidacy 
must follow in the natural course of events. 


The average woman, more or less averse to politics in the pres 
ent day acceptance of the term, points to his ideals for the moral 
and spiritual leadership of this country, which have been so con 
clusively shown to be the motive power for his actions that it is 
highly desirable the President serve four more years in the White 

Among the many qualities of President Coolidge which make 
him the choice of the women for candidate next year, are cited the 
respect and confidence he has inspired, his patriotism, good judg 
ment and statesmanship, added to his programme of sound 
economy and constructive conservatism, both in domestic and 
foreign affairs. Women having experience in party organization 
and public office admire his record of efficiency in the legislative 
branches of government, as well as the distinction with which he 
served as Mayor of Northampton, Governor of Massachusetts 
and Vice-President of the United States, before Destiny took a 
hand and placed him in the White House. 

Politics has been described by the President as the "art of 
government," and it strengthens and justifies the loyalty of 
women to the Republican party to know that a man of his char 
acter, with so long and so varied an experience in party organiza 
tion and in public office, believes in and is willing to uphold 
Republican principles as a party candidate. If women are to 
continue as members of the party, they must be able to respect 
not only its history, but the citizenship and principles lived by its 
candidates for public office. In this respect the President is an 
extremely valuable asset to his party, for to him loyalty to Repub 
lican principles simply means the best brand of government possi 
ble to be administered in the interests of the whole Nation. When 
the rank and file of American citizens, as well as all candidates for 
office, recognize this principle as the true interpretation of that 
much abused slogan "stand by the party," the better will be the 
brand of government we receive as a product of our bi-partisan 

Women approve the thorough study and careful consideration 
given, and the good judgment displayed by President Coolidge 
in the various crises which have arisen during his Administration. 
These range from settlements of war debts to disturbed relations 


with our neighbors on the South, and from the disputed question 
of tax reduction to the even more troublous and complicated mat 
ter of farm relief. Only after the fullest research and deliberation 
did he come to a final decision in some cases, and in others recom 
mended instead initial steps looking toward ultimate solution of 
problems too complex to be remedied by any immediate executive 
or legislative action. 

The succession of dramatic and unforeseen events, which 
brought into the "white light" of publicity not only his adminis 
tration as Governor of Massachusetts, but his nomination to the 
Vice-Presidency and later his promotion to the White House, un 
questionably captured and held the imagination of the public. 
So ably, yet simply, did the Vice-President carry on that the 
people became possessed of as strong a belief in him as that which 
he has always had in them. In this greatest test, both of his 
ability and character, two qualities of the man stood out clearly 
and attractively. One was the simplicity with which he assumed 
the unexpected burden; the other was the loyalty shown in carry 
ing out, with amazing and self-sacrificing exactitude, the pro 
gramme laid down by the elected servant of the people. In not 
one instance did he swerve from the known intentions of President 
Harding, unless convinced that the one who made the programme 
would have changed it under existing conditions. His every 
action revealed his conviction that he was still Vice-President 
"serving in the place of" his Chief, who was unavoidably and 
tragically absent. 

To the average woman, not deeply interested in the party view 
point, President Coolidge's leadership in the programme of econ 
omy which he preached to the Business Organization of Govern 
ment, and which he insisted on carrying out to the letter, is a 
strong recommendation, for it resulted inevitably in more funds 
remaining in the family purse. The same approval met his in 
sistence on reduction of taxes, and, coupled with the effective 
education of the public through the press as to the resultant 
benefits of such action, brought home to "the lady of the house" 
the knowledge of his large share in securing the unusual blessing 
of lower Federal taxes. 

The two facts just cited point unmistakably to another un- 


usual, but satisfying, attribute of the President, i.e., his belief in 
the essential simplicity of government. This contrasts pleasantly 
with the habit of mind usual to the sterner sex, which causes them 
to quench the thirst for information displayed by the recently en 
franchised female by saying: "The principles of government and 
finance are too complicated for you to understand, even if I tried 
to explain them to you." Is it unkind for those so rebuffed to 
feel that the cloak of complexity covers a possible lack of under 
standing on the part of the individual questioned? However, the 
President's messages and speeches have made his theory and 
practice of government understandable by the common people; 
and being understandable, they are appreciated. 

While he does not possess the brand of personal magnetism which 
hypnotizes the public mind momentarily, he undoubtedly has 
that greater hold on the heart and imagination which is lasting. 
He has the faculty of grasping the fundamental truth in a situa 
tion, and the greater gift of so presenting it that the people under 
stand and accept it. No one ever stated the vital need of Amer 
ica so simply or so vividly as he did in an address, from which the 
following quotation is taken: 

We do not need more material development, we need more spiritual develop 
ment. We do not need more intellectual power, we need more moral power. 
We do not need more knowledge, we need more character. We do not need 
more government, we need more culture. We do not need more law, we need 
more religion. We do not need more of the things that are seen, we need more 
of the things that are unseen. 

His record proves that his performances are based not on prom 
ises or pledges, but on knowledge of the need and the remedy; his 
judgment is not stampeded by petitions or pressure, but deter 
mined by facts; his decisions are not swayed by considerations of 
loss of prestige or of votes, but by a will to secure justice and to 
promote righteousness. 

His character shows a steady consistent growth from boyhood 
to manhood, revealed alike in speeches, writings and actions; his 
honesty, courage and devotion to duty are exceptional; his ideals 
sound a spiritual tocsin to our souls to be up and doing. 

We choose him as our candidate in 1928, not only for what he 
has done, but for what he is. 



ONE night in May, a tall, good-looking American boy stands in 
line unnoticed before a New York moving picture house, like 
anyone else; a few hours later he drops from the sky in Paris, and 
the theatre before which he stood is crowded to the roof to see the 
world's hero upon the screen. No man since men began to make 
history has risen so swiftly to world wide fame as this young 
American, Colonel Charles Augustus Lindbergh. The man, the 
deed and the hour combined to make this the event most quickly 
and widely known to the greatest multitude of rejoicing human 
beings. He had just come from San Diego, California, alone, in 
twenty-one hours, the fastest air time across the Continent, and a 
record that would have put him on the front page of the news 
papers in quieter times than these. But this was only tuning up 
for the flight that he was about to make; crossing the Atlantic on 
a sandwich and a half and a few swallows of water; landing at 
night, on unknown ground, in a machine with not a spot of oil on 
it nor a sign of having come from across the globe. It seems to be 
the peculiar attribute of Lindbergh to do the formidable, the 
fantastic and the incredible, in the simplest and most everyday 
fashion, and to keep this everyday simplicity through the fire of 
the most intense and exhausting publicity that has ever been 
turned upon a single individual. 

It was eight years ago, while Lindbergh was still a schoolboy, 
that Alcock and Brown made the first air crossing of the Atlantic, 
linking America with England. This fired Raymond Orteig, of 
New York City, a passionately patriotic Frenchman, with the 
determination to do something not only to advance aviation but 
to bring France into these new world-relations. I was at that 
time secretary of the Aero Club of America, and it was to me that 
he telephoned to ask my assistance in formulating plans. 

VOL. ccxxiv. NO. 836 23 


It was clear that the best way would be to link Paris with New 
York by air. This would require a machine to do double what 
had ever been done before, new instruments, and scientific navi 
gation in addition to piloting. Naturally Mr. Orteig thought 
the French would be the first to do it, and so did I; he drew up a 
deed of gift for twenty-five thousand dollars, and I drew up the 
rules to win this prize that was a challenge to aviation. Five 
years passed, however, without a start from either side. The 
general public did not take it seriously indeed, up to the very 
day of Lindbergh's starting, Mr. Orteig was berated in letters to 
the press, for instigating men to go to their deaths for a deed not 
only impractical but impossible of accomplishment. 

Mr. Orteig, however, extended the time, when an entry came 
from the foremost French flyer, Rene Fonck, and an attempt was 
made. In the following year, 1927, several entries were made 
from this side, and from France two of the most intrepid flyers of 
the world, Nungesser and Coli, flew out into the unknown and 
disappeared. Finally, on May 20, in the mist before morning, 
Lindbergh rose alone from Roosevelt Field, Mineola, Long 
Island; was sighted along our coast to the tip of Newfoundland; 
surprised a fisherman in Dingle Bay by asking from the clouds, 
"Is this the road to Ireland?" and before the day ended, was in 

The keynote then struck was soon to swell into a world sym 
phony of homage; as he passed from France, to Belgium, to Eng 
land, kings and commoners joined the acclaim and expressed, 
each in his own way, the long- waiting joy of humanity at the 
coming of the first citizen of the world, the first human being 
truly entitled to give his address as "The Earth", the first Am- 
bassador-at-Large to Creation. Brought home in an American 
warship, he received the official welcome of his Nation at the 
hands of the President at Washington, was greeted in New York 
with a demonstration to which that of Armistice Day alone might 
be compared, and set sail for home in the plane that he had 
always recognized as part of himself and partaker of his glory. 

The reader of this survey of events, reviewing the great day of 
Le Bourget from the perspective of even a comparatively brief 
interval, may be permitted to ask, why all the excitement? 


Just what is the significance of Charles Lindbergh's achievement, 
that a world no longer looking on the aeroplane as a marvel, a 
world that had already acclaimed the crossing of the Atlantic, 
the circumnavigation of the globe by air, and the traversing of 
the North Pole by aeroplane and dirigible, should thrill to this 
exploit as if life were in some way beginning over again? The 
answer is that the world is right. Aviation is beginning over 
again. An epoch in air history was closed by the flight of Lind 
bergh, and with it an epoch begins. 


Before the hero of the New York to Paris flight had regained 
New York on the Memphis, another American youth had crossed 
the Atlantic, this time with a passenger; Clarence Chamberlin 
with Charles Levine. Steering for Berlin, their gasoline supply 
had lasted to within a comparatively few miles of their destina 
tion, when they were forced down. Chamberlin is another type 
of American airman in time of peace; he was a "gypsy flyer", the 
picturesque phrase for a picaresque way of life. The gypsy 
flyer owns his plane and picks up a living by it however and 
wherever he can; taking up passengers, buying and selling second 
hand machines, taking photographs, and especially stunt -flying 
at fairs or other open air assemblies. The gypsy flyer has been 
quite naturally looked down upon by the profession as a sort of 
aerial acrobat and camp follower, but he furnishes some of the 
most interesting and significant types of young Americans. The 
country is, if not full of them, at least well sprinkled with bronzed 
and competent youths, who may drop from the clouds almost 
anywhere over the countryside and earn a living by their skill, 
their courage and their often brilliant resourcefulness. 


While all this was going on, a scientific expedition, headed by 
Commander Richard E. Byrd, was waiting suitable weather con 
ditions for an Atlantic flight in the giant monoplane America. 
The crew consisted of Bert Acosta, chief pilot; Lieutenant 


George O. Noville, radio operator; and Bernt Balchen, reserve 
pilot. They were not competing for the Orteig Prize, but in 
tended to chart the weather at various altitudes and generally to 
accumulate scientific data in regard to storms and air currents 
that would be of value to aircraft plying between America and 
Europe. Commander Byrd is yet another type of American 
airman; engineer, naval officer, scientist and explorer, intrepid 
and devoted. His flights over the Pole and Arctic Regions were 
made in the interests of exploration, and he is at this writing 
arranging an expedition to the South Pole. He not only sustains 
the tradition of the American navy, but represents a family that 
has been prominent in the councils of the American Nation since 
the time of Washington. 

After waiting, like a good sportsman, for the return of Lind 
bergh to this country, the America took off from the very field 
from which the other two flights started, kept in touch with shore 
stations all the way by wireless, which neither of the other 
planes did, but was exceptionally unfortunate in running into 
dense fog which obscured the ocean for the greater part of the 
course. When the voyagers reached the coast of France the 
weather was so thick that they were unable to determine their 
position, and their compass went out of commission for some 
unaccountable reason; but in spite of these disheartening difficul 
ties they were able to return to the seacoast, and by the best of 
airmanship made a fortunate landing at Ver-sur-Mer, in the 
ocean, coming to shore in their collapsible life-raft. 


Brief as the time has been since 1903 when the Wright Brothers 
rose from the sand dunes of Kitty Hawk and opened the era of 
aviation, it is already divided into clearly defined periods, with 
each of which everything may be said to have started all over again. 
A man still in middle age might have lived through them all; it 
has been my good fortune to be so placed that I could watch all 
these developments at close hand. The first division was the 
period of the Inventors and Builders, such as the Wrights and 
Curtiss in America, the Voisin Brothers and Bleriot in France; it 


would be hard to separate builders from inventors, for though 
the arch-inventors approached the subject by way of laboratory 
experiments in aerodynamics, and others of their type sought 
results by elaborate calculation, there were yet others who made 
valuable contributions to the changing machine by empirical 
methods, approaching the subject by trying one thing and then 
another, working "by guess and by gosh," as the farmer built 
his bridge, and acting as developers in the building process. 

Immediately after this came the era of the Demonstrators, the 
age of "aerial jockeys". At first these were the inventors and 
builders themselves Wilbur Wright at Le Mans, France; Orville 
Wright at Fort Meyer, and Glenn Curtiss elsewhere in the United 
States. But soon this duty of demonstration fell to a generation 
of pupils, who did not add a nut or a bolt to the construction of 
the machine, who flew what was given them, but who by their 
intrepid use of what they had, constantly set the constructors new 
tasks, and constantly required of them new machines that would 
respond to their abilities and fulfill their demands. 

It was this generation that by concentrating on flying proved 
possibilities undreamed of by the public, and only remotely hoped 
for by the builder. Pegaud's feat in looping-the-loop was reviled 
by the unthinking as foolhardiness, serving no good purpose; a 
reproach that has never been withheld from any stage of develop 
ment of air flight, and from which even Lindbergh himself has not 
been free. But by Pegaud the aeroplane builder was challenged 
to provide for all future flyers a machine that would withstand 
the strain of this new manoeuvre, to the general improvement of 
the plane and to the vast enlargement of the possibilities of flight, 
especially in warfare. During this period these expert demon 
strators developed the plane by races and contests in reliability 
and speed, and carried it to undreamed of altitudes. They were 
enlarging the pattern: already by the close of this era, the Atlantic 
Flight was on the horizon as the greatest possibility of all in the 
way of demonstration. 

But this period was to come to a violent end. The World War 
intervened. Only to compare the little, light machine that went 


into the war with the deadly efficiency of the engines that emerged 
from it, is to see for one's self that this period brought about 
developments in aviation comparable only to those in surgery 
and in chemistry. The vital necessity that made surgeons 
and chemists take chances that a century of peace would not 
justify, sent men into the clouds to perform the impossible and 
make it the commonplace of a flyer's day. This period added 
armament to the plane and made the gun its raison d'etre, with 
flying only a means to this end instead of an occupation for all the 
powers and energies of hand and brain, as heretofore. It not 
only developed a type of flyer who could run his machine almost 
automatically, reserving his darting intelligence for the exigencies 
of conflict, but it laid upon the builder the necessity of providing 
him with a plane whose mechanism would respond at once to the 
most sensitive control. When the war stoppped, the Ace had 
been evolved, a creature whose personality extended to the tips 
of its wings and in whom mind and motor were one. 

Opportunity for the Ace stopped with the war, and with the 
coming of the fourth period, Commercial Aviation, the machine 
began to take first place in the public mind the machine and 
the organization that made its operation possible on a large scale. 
Air lines opened in every direction in Europe, and became in a 
short time a valued method of transportation, not only in respect 
to speed, but for the even more important qualification of safety. 
The Channel as a barrier had crumbled under Bleriot and dis 
appeared during the war; it was now to be crossed daily by steady 
airgoing craft used by tourists no more freely than by staid busi 
ness men desiring conservative and speedy methods of transpor 
tation for themselves and for fragile merchandise. From every 
airport of Europe lines crossed and recrossed the map. The globe 
was circled, Australia linked to the mother-country, the Sahara 
opened and Darkest Africa illuminated; the Atlantic, North 
and South, was crossed no less than fifteen times by airship and 
aeroplane; the islands of the Pacific, Hawaii and the Aleutian 
Islands were joined to the mainland, the flights depending in each 
instance not only upon the skill of the pilots in flying and navi 
gating, but upon long preparation, organization and team work of 
their supporters, in some instances of supporting Governments. 


But although our Government took some part in this procession, 
the peak of our activity in this period was the air mail, a fine 
example of organized support of individual bravery and skill. 


The actual achievement of Lindbergh is easily set down. In 
a monoplane named for the city of his financial backers, The 
Spirit of St. Louis, built for him in sixty days, he flew on May 
20-21, 1927, 3,610 flying miles, without stop or deviation from 
a determined course, in thirty-three hours and twenty-nine 
minutes. His only new instrument of importance was the earth- 
inductor compass ; this he constantly watched, and in order to fly, 
as he flew, on the arc of a great circle, it had to adjust about every 
hundred miles. He had continually to judge the side-drift of his 
machine and allow for it, and also to use his judgment in man- 
ceuvering around fog and storm centres. The distance he cov 
ered constituted the world's record for non-stop flight, at the 
time, but this was never emphasized in the popular mind, and I 
doubt if one man in a thousand who cheered Lindbergh could 
have told offhand the number of miles that he had flown in those 
memorable hours above the ocean. 

There are some flights that make records and some that make 
history: this was a history-making flight. As with all the other 
periods of flying history, everything is beginning over again with 
it. Attention is again directed, not only to the machine, but to 
the man, as in the first days, when aviation was a matter of great 
individuals. Old and young share in the thrill, for youth acclaims 
the young hero and to those who lived through the pioneer days, 
the days of pioneering begin anew. In 1926 Commander Byrd's 
magnificent feat in crossing the North Pole roused the admiration 
of the world, but once done it was, so far as the public mind was 
concerned, done with, while Lindbergh's flight, almost imme 
diately followed by Chamberlin's and then by Byrd's, seems even 
to the unimaginative the opening of a new era of transportation. 
As important as its being done was the fact that it was done on 
time, and again, it was the aspect of ambassadorship that loomed 
large in the public imagination. America is a long way off from 


Europe, and, with the best will in the world, professional diplo 
macy does not always tend to diminish the distance. Radio 
whose development has progressed step by step with aviation, as 
the telegraph accompanied the railroad and the telephone the 
automobile was doing much to bring the two hemispheres to 
gether in thought, but it needed the actual crossing at a single step 
of this level-headed boy, bringing a greeting no more official than 
his first words "I'm Charles Lindbergh", but with a smile that 
carried with it those assurances of good will that words are more 
apt to obscure than to explain. There is no doubt that Europe 
took his coming in this spirit, and Lindbergh was fulfilling a sacred 
trust to humanity when in his brief speech to the multitudes at 
Washington and to the thirty millions of radio listeners, he spoke 
only of the affection for America that he had seen and felt every 
where displayed, in France, in Belgium and in England, and of his 
sense of obligation to bring back with him the impression of this 
frame of mind, undimmed by time, and transmit it to his country 


People appreciate what comes within their experience. Though 
the public thought the flight was great, it was even more im 
pressed by the flawless tact with which Lindbergh met the kings 
of the Old World and the crowds of the New, and the unerring 
judgment that steered him past the two storm centers of senti 
mentality and commercialism. He conveyed far more by his 
actions than he did by his words, well chosen as they invariably 
were; he brought new power and vitality to diplomacy by the 
addition of the dramatic element. 

His actions the public could see, but what it could only faintly 
envisage was, after all, the flight itself. This, strictly speaking, 
not more than a dozen men can really appreciate; these are the 
aviators who have had at least a similar experience; who have 
made, or partly made, a transoceanic flight. They know the 
fierceness of the forces that block the road through the unknown, 
the icy mist that may reduce the lifting power of the wings and in 
a moment change success to failure, life to death; the swift spring 
ing storms or blinding fog that may, as they did for Byrd, blot out 


land and sea for nineteen hours together, and the immeasurable 
waste of waters whose very thought pulls down the mind, the 
waters that hold somewhere the secret of Nungesser and Coli. But 
aviators in general, given even a slight amount of imagination, 
can appreciate all this indirectly, and it is from them that the 
praise most valued by Lindbergh has come. It is they also who 
can value the exploit of Byrd as it should be valued. With the 
public at large the disposition has been to regard it as a flight that 
failed only in its avowed objective; though it was beset with in 
cidents of dramatic grandeur. The superhuman skill and the 
highest science of aerial navigation on the part of Commander 
Byrd, and the cool bravery and heroic courage of each member 
of the crew, brought them through imminent dangers in safety to 
a well earned ovation from the nations of the world as well as of 
all their fellow citizens of America. Chamberlin, heading for 
Berlin, found himself in a cucumber-patch in Kotbus; the fact 
that this was some miles further than Lindbergh had flown did not 
count with the crowd in comparison with the fact that it was some 
miles short of the spot he had expected to reach though he had 
carefully refrained from making official announcement of this 
expectation. Byrd, in the America, carried three times the 
weight, chanced three times the motor difficulties, and, with 
four times the human risk, completed a tremendous scientific 
experiment, and revealed the possibilities of radio communication 
almost as remarkable as those of the aeroplane, and demonstrated, 
against almost inconceivable dangers and difficulties, that it was 
by no mere lucky fluke that the others had made the flight, and 
that the crossing could be made in almost any weather. 

The trans-Pacific flight of Maitland and Hegenberger, which 
took place with brilliant precision at almost the same time as 
Byrd's, was but another proof to the public of the marvelous state 
of accuracy to which the navigation of aircraft had reached; such 
small objects as the Hawaiian Islands, after a flight of twenty-five 
hours and fifty minutes, could be hit "plumb on the nose", al 
though they were a distance of twenty -four hundred miles away 
over water. But long distance flights are becoming of everyday 
occurrence and the public no longer complains that human life is 
being risked for only a brief moment of glory. The mortality 


rate has always been lower for aviation than people generally be 
lieved, for the emphasis has been not upon the man that flies, but 
the man that falls; now the expectation is that the pilot will win 
through, just as the traveler on the railroad train believes that he 
will reach Chicago on time. If there is a train wreck the papers 
do not at once complain that the steam engine is an affront to 

Lindbergh's perfect flight revealed the highest and noblest 
characteristics of man: daring, skill, calculation and genius. It 
brought into the limelight of public knowledge the vast height of 
attainment and the tremendous possibilities even now at our 
command in the aeroplane of today; and as a flash of lightning 
illumines the landscape for a moment so that we see the mountain 
peaks upon the horizon, so this brilliant deed revealed to the imagi 
nation of man a clear vision of the future. He had faith not 
only in his motor but, what is still more important, in himself, 
and he was upheld by the wishes, the hopes and the prayers of 
the whole Nation. 


Today not only the airmen but the earthmen are planning and 
prophesying. In 1914 I wrote an article called Columbus of the 
Air, and I said: 

A man is now living who will be the first human being to cross the Atlantic 
ocean through the air. He will cross while he is still a young man. All at 
once, Europe will move two days nearer; instead of five days away, it will be 
distant only thirty hours. ... It would seem out of keeping with the general 
economy of weight, when even the parts are not duplicated, that the pilot 
should be carried in duplicate. ... As for keeping awake and alert for the 
whole time of the flight, every aeronaut knows that this is possible. I myself 
have kept alert for longer periods than this several times in international bal 
loon races. Whoever crosses the ocean through the air for the first time will be 
too busy to be lonesome. 

. . . Imagine then, the welcome that awaits the Columbus of the air! 
The cable warns of his departure, before him flies the wireless announcing his 
progress. Ship after ship, waiting the great moment, catches glimpses of the 
black dot in the sky; ocean steamers bearing each a cityful of human beings, 
train thousands of glasses on the tiny winged thing, advance herald of the 
aerial age. The ocean comes to life with gazing humanity; above all he rides, 


solitary, intent. There will have been no time to decorate for his coming; 
flags will run up hurriedly, roofs in an instant turn black with people, wharves 
and streets white with upturned faces, while over the heads of the multitude 
he rides in, to such a shout as the ear of man has never heard. No explorer 
ever knew such a welcome, no conqueror, as awaits the "Columbus of the Air". 

To say that within less than a decade America will be covered 
with commercial air-lines is only to remind the public that Amer 
ica is now far behind Europe, where timetables for air routes are 
at this time as much a part of a business man's equipment as those 
for land or sea. Landing devices must be improved; this is most 
evident in the case of airships. Indeed the main reason for the 
lagging behind of the dirigible is that it must be pulled down to 
earth by a swarm of men. Imagine the Leviathan being warped 
into her dock by an army of men each pulling on a rope, and you 
have something like the present anachronism in the working of 
the dirigible. That this will be overcome there can be no doubt, 
nor that the landing devices of aeroplanes will be made safer than 
they are at present. The parachute as an emergency measure 
with the aeroplane is of comparatively recent date, and in its 
present improved form provides something like that "sky -hook" 
the old-timers used to declare every aviator needed. Platforms 
over city blocks and piers will make every city a port of the air 
and bring to pass the famous predictions of Kipling's With the 
Night Mail. There will be "floating islands" in the ocean and 
moored ships for weather reports with ballons sondes and kites 
for high altitude data; mail and passengers will be flown to shore 
from Atlantic liners, cutting two days off the passage. New and 
better instruments will come, a capacity indicator to show how 
high you are above the surface of the ground will make crossing 
mountains less perilous, and an instrument will measure distance 
traveled over the earth's surface, and an automatic pilot keep a 
predetermined course as set by an earth-inductor compass, as is 
done now on ocean liners by what is known to seamen as "Metal 
Mike". We will have devices to dissipate and to guide through 
fog, the greatest enemy of all craft, especially to assist pilots to 
land; neon lights and wireless beacons and powerful radio direc 
tion stations to transmit meterological information and give 
bearings must be generally established with observation stations 


in the Polar Regions, on the ice-cap of Greenland and in the 
Antarctic. In the course of these investigations and discoveries, 
great flights must soon be made. No spot on the earth will be 
unseen by man. The Pacific will be crossed in a single flight, 
the world circumnavigated in fifteen days. Heights of 50,000 feet 
will be reached, and it may be possible to utilize the vast possibil 
ities of speed at very great altitudes. We may see "superterra- 
nean " machines with apparatus for supplying passengers with air 
under pressure mixed with oxygen; Breguet built such a machine 
in France; and on account of the reduced resistance of the air 
speeds of five hundred miles an hour might be attained, according 
to some authorities. Experiments are now in progress in the use 
of the reactionary principle in propulsion, doing away with the 
propeller and motor as used in the present plane and substituting 
the exhaust of liquid air through nozzles. Wireless transmission 
of power is still distant, but not below the horizon. Machines 
have been re-fueled in the air, enabling them to make continuous 
journeys of indefinite duration. By the time the earthbound 
reader has reached this point in this conservative forecast, his 
mind may be preparing to let go, and it is time to round off this 
survey of reasonable possibilities of the future of air transport. 

It may not be amiss, however, to warn the inexperienced in 
aviation that ideas like these have already gone to the heads of a 
type of promoters, who can persuade themselves and a section of 
the public that far more improbable developments are not only 
possible in the future but actually here already. The investing 
public should be on its guard against the wildcat schemes that are 
bound to be brought forward at this time and for some years to 
come, for the looting of the credulous, and keep closely to the 
advice of air authorities whose knowledge is as undoubted as their 
integrity. It is fortunate that the Daniel Guggenheim Aeronauti 
cal Foundation, one of the most important organizations for the 
encouragement and strengthening of aviation that this country 
has seen, has arranged a countrywide tour of the world hero in 
the interest of present day safe and sane commercial development 
of the world's greatest dream, the flight of man. 



THE heart of General Leonard Wood has ceased to beat. Our 
great Proconsul has gone to his last reward. He died just as he 
was bringing to fruition six years of almost superhuman labor in 
the service of his country in the Philippine Islands. When he 
took the oath of office as Governor-General in Manila on October 
15, 1921, he was a robust, well-preserved man of sixty-one. The 
long battle with native ineptness and chicanery, political indif 
ference at home and an energy-sapping, tropical climate, have 
laid him low before his time. He truly made the supreme sacri 
fice on the altar of duty to his fellow countrymen. 

General Wood's almost single-handed, self-abnegatory achieve 
ments in the Philippines are indicative of the difficulty of the 
problem confronting our Nation in those far-away Islands. 
While no single figure in American public life seems at the mo 
ment big enough adequately to fill the place of General Wood, the 
Philippine problem is still with us and is likely to be with us for a 
long time. General Wood's work has established a sound basis 
for further constructive effort. How to deal with the problem 
from now on is a question strongly clamoring for an answer from 
the American people. 

The past few years have witnessed a recrudescence of interest 
in Philippine affairs, due largely to the growing importance of the 
whole Far Eastern area as an economic factor in our national life. 
Trade in the Far East has been rapidly increasing and the United 
States has been able to utilize her Philippine base as an aid to 
securing her share of this commerce. Contemplated large-scale 
production of rubber in the Philippines would free us from the 
British monopoly in this important raw material. Hence the 
country has evinced a sharpened interest in the Philippines, while 
our political relationship with the Islands has become a subject 
of extensive public discussion. The Filipinos, in the mean time, 


have been carrying on a well-organized campaign for independ 
ence and have drawn public attention to internal affairs in the 
Islands by a continuous legislative battle with General Wood. 
The obstructionist tactics of a handful of political leaders, 
coupled with continued uncertainty as to the political future of 
the Islands, have discouraged the investment of American capital, 
with the result that economic development, and hence political 
and social progress, have been halted. Signs are not wanting 
that Congress will be called upon in the very near future to deal 
definitely with the problem. The question to be decided will 
then be: What is the best national policy to pursue with respect 
to the political status of the Philippines, and how shall it be 
carried into effect? 

Until now our basic Philippine policy has been one of gradual 
extension of autonomous privileges to the Filipinos in preparation 
for their independent national existence. There has been no 
abjuration of this policy since it was first laid down by President 
McKinley in his instructions to the First Philippine Commission, 
more than a quarter of a century ago. By progressive stages, the 
Filipinos have been given a Government which to all intents and 
purposes is autonomous. The Governor-General, the Vice- 
Governor, the Insular Auditor and the Supreme Court Justices 
are the only Washington appointees. The American record in 
the Islands is eloquent of the sincerity and honesty of the 
American Nation in its policy of preparing the Filipinos for com 
plete self-government. Nor need there be any recantation of this 
policy. It is thoroughly American, faithful to our best traditions 
and in accord with the most liberal democratic ideals. No 
authoritative American spokesman has ever renounced it, and 
both great American political parties have formally endorsed it. 

Nevertheless this policy has not been wholly successful; not 
because it is fundamentally unsound, but because it has been 
applied too rapidly. Yet every step in our Philippine experiment 
has been motivated by the most praiseworthy intentions, by an 
altruism which of itself constitutes the best earnest of our good 
will toward the Filipinos. We took an optimistic chance that 
our Malay wards would make good in the duties and responsibili 
ties so rapidly conferred upon them. Since partial disappoint- 


ment has been the result, we are now faced with the necessity of 
re-orienting our course in the Islands and bringing our funda 
mental policy in line with the lessons of experience. 

Our Philippine experiment has now been carried on long 
enough to indicate quite clearly the weak spots in the present 
colonial structure and the measures that must be taken to 
strengthen them. Moreover, in the interests of good government 
and economic progress, these measures ought not to be delayed, 
for a virtual impasse has been reached in the political and eco 
nomic development of the Islands. 

Since 1916 our political relationship with the Filipinos has been 
founded upon the organic act known as the Jones Law. This is a 
Congressional measure patterned after our own Constitution, 
with its Bill of Rights and its system of checks and balances 
among the Executive, the Legislative and the Judiciary. 

Now there are those who maintain that the American constitu 
tional system of government as transplanted to the Philippines is 
not suitable to the genius of the Filipino people, that a parliamen 
tary system patterned after that of Great Britain or Canada 
would prove more satisfactory for a people who during three 
centuries of Spanish rule acquired a predominant European 
complex. They would substitute for the Jones Law a new 
organic act under which the department secretaries, who are now 
under the control of the Governor-General, would be directly 
responsible to the Legislature. The Governor-General would be 
a Filipino and the sovereign power would be represented by a 
High Commissioner whose functions would be largely advisory or 
tutelary. The new act would also provide for a plebiscite in 
twenty or thirty years by which the people would decide whether 
or not they would accept an independent status. This, in sub 
stance, is what is known as the Fairfield Plan, named after former 
Representative Fairfield of Indiana, ex-chairman of the Com 
mittee on Insular Affairs. 

The theory back of this plan is that the virtually complete 
autonomy which it confers upon the natives would prove so 
satisfactory that the plebiscite would result in a defeat of the 
independence alternative; also that such a measure would set at 
rest the trouble-breeding immediate independence agitation. 


However, there are a number of arguments which attack the 
soundness of this plan and theory. In the first place, the whole 
scheme is based on the assumption that the Filipinos are pre 
pared for an augmentation of their autonomous powers, an 
assumption which is not warranted by their record under the 
measure of autonomy already granted them. We need not go 
into this record in detail. Suffice it to say that during the 
Harrison regime the Filipinos were accorded an excellent oppor 
tunity to demonstrate their capacity for greater autonomous 
responsibility, and that they conspicuously failed to meet the 
test. Any further concessions of this nature would only be 
inviting unnecessary disappointment both for them and for us. 

Furthermore, the hypothesis that the Fairfield Plan would 
quiet the immediate independence agitation is hardly tenable. 
The Filipino political leaders today are loud in their advocacy of 
immediate independence despite the unquestioned benefits and 
advantages that have accrued to their people under the American 
aegis and which they themselves recognize. Though many of 
them will tell you privately that they are convinced of the folly 
and danger of immediate independence, they feel that in public 
they must maintain the "Give me Liberty or give me Death" 
pose, for the simple reason that it is their chief political asset, 
the one and only issue which has carried them into office and 
which can always be counted upon to evoke the plaudits of the 
masses, to whom they have pictured "Independencia" as a 
veritable Utopia in which the proletariat will live on milk and 
honey without working and without paying taxes. Is it reason 
able to suppose that a mere Fairfield Bill will eliminate this issue 
from the native demagogic bag of tricks, of whose contents it 
constitutes about ninety-nine per cent.? 

Before the Jones Bill was enacted, these leaders assured 
Americans that enactment of that measure would satisfy the 
people for many years to come; but hardly had the President's 
signature dried on that document when they began clamoring for 
immediate independence with renewed vigor and redoubled 
enthusiasm. Experience has shown that each yielding to the 
importunities and demands of the native politicians has served 
only to encourage further and more insistent separatist agitation 


<m their part. Moreover, they have found in this agitation the 
royal road to political power and preferment. There should be a 
lesson in this for those who think that the Oriental can be 
brought to terms by conciliatory tactics. 

Another serious objection to the Fairfield Plan is that it would 
definitely commit this country to a course of action in the rela 
tively distant future, a very dangerous and unwise policy, for no 
one can with any degree of certainty foretell what the conditions 
will be twenty or thirty years from now and what action will 
then be wise or proper. 

On the other hand, the Jones Law, as a whole, is regarded as an 
excellent and serviceable instrument by many competent au 
thorities, including General Wood and Sir Frederick Whyte, 
former President of the Legislative Assembly of India. Speaking 
at the Williamstown Institute of Politics last year, Sir Frederick 
asserted that, in his opinion, the American constitutional system 
of government, as embodied in the Jones Law, is better suited for 
colonial administration than is the parliamentary system im 
planted in India. Like General Wood and other authorities who 
favor the present basis of Philippine Government, he thought that 
judicious and timely amendment of the Jones Law would in 
large measure eliminate some of the more troublesome anomalies 
and difficulties that have developed in the course of its func 

One feature of the Jones Bill which has been the source of 
many of our Philippine worries is the famous Preamble, which, 
while it is not an integral part of the law and thus lacks statutory 
force, has been regarded by Filipino leaders as morally com 
mitting the United States to the concession of immediate inde 
pendence. This claim is based on that portion of the Preamble 
which declares that "it is, as it has always been, the purpose of 
the people of the United States to withdraw their sovereignty 
over the Philippine Islands and to recognize their independence 
as soon as a stable Government can be established therein." 
Inasmuch as the present Government in the Philippines is 
"stable," these Filipinos argue, this country is in honor bound to 
recognize the independence of the Islands. The framers of the 
measure, of course, had a concept of the phrase "stable Govern- 

VOL. ccxxiv. NO. 836 24 


ment" quite different from that now advanced by the Filipinos. 
A Government which could not maintain its independence with 
out the protection of a stronger power, or which would be finan 
cially incapable of carrying on its proper functions, was certainly 
not visioned by those who wrote the Preamble as the sort of 
Government entitled to an independent status. According to 
Filipino interpretation, the very Government which existed at the 
time the Preamble was enacted was a "stable" Government 
entitled to immediate independence, and consequently the statute 
itself was nugatory or redundant. This is a patent reductio ad 
absurdum. Besides, the Preamble ventures on debatable his 
toric ground when it asserts that "it has always been the purpose 
of the people of the United States to withdraw their sovereignty," 
etc. Certainly the result of the national election of 1900, when 
Philippine independence was the major issue, would tend to 
throw grave doubt upon the validity of such an assertion. 

It would seem, therefore, that one of the first duties of those 
charged with the task of bringing our Philippine relations into 
line with the lessons of the past should be the amendment of the 
Jones Bill Preamble so as to clarify its language and make its 
intent unequivocal if its elimination in toto were deemed inad 
visable or impracticable. Such action would remove one of the 
principal sources of nationalistic agitation and would go a long 
way toward encouraging investment of capital in the Islands. 
Capital, it may be said in passing, cannot be blamed for refusing 
to expose itself to the possibility of overnight independence 
founded on no firmer basis than the materialization of antiquated 
shibboleths as exploited by demagogic native chauvinists; and as 
long as the present Jones Bill Preamble remains on our statute 
books such an occurrence must be deemed as within the realm of 

The Jones Law proper could be improved by a more explicit 
and more categorical definition of the powers and prerogatives of 
the Governor-General. This is needed because the Filipinos 
have assumed the stand that Governor-General Wood violated 
the spirit, if not the letter, of the Jones Law by vetoing an in 
ordinately large number of measures passed by the Philippine 
Legislature and by exercising functions which properly belong to 


the Legislature and its lawful leaders. General Wood's actions 
were repeatedly sustained by the President, the Secretary of 
War, and in some instances by the Supreme Court of the United 
States, yet the Filipinos insist that he overstepped the legitimate 
boundaries of the executive domain and encroached upon the 

This Filipino grievance is the natural outgrowth of extra-legal 
political experiments sanctioned by a former Philippine regime 
when a Council of State, a Board of Control and various enter 
prises of a quasi-Socialistic character were created while the 
Governor-General gratuitously abnegated his legal powers in 
favor of the Filipino legislative heads. While General Wood 
succeeded in restoring the governmental functions to their lawful 
channels, the Filipino leaders refuse to accept the letter of the 
law as the basis for political cooperation with the sovereign 
power. They insist that certain "dearly-won" political pre 
rogatives have been taken from them arbitrarily. One can 
sympathize with them under the circumstances, but at the same 
time one cannot help but recognize that General Wood took the 
only honest and conscientious course possible. 

This clash between the personal ambitions, or amour propre, if 
you will, of the Filipino leaders, and the Governor's corrective 
but necessary executive performance, is the real crux of the 
present difficulties in the Islands. The charge of "militarism" 
lodged against the Wood regime was nothing but a clever native 
manoeuvre designed to bring about General Wood's retirement. 
As a matter of fact, he and his military associates treated the 
Filipinos with exemplary courtesy and consideration. No 
civilian officials could have behaved more civilly or more dis 
creetly. The suggestion has been made that the direction of 
insular affairs be transferred from the War Department to the 
Department of the Interior; but such a step would not neces 
sarily bring about any fundamental change in the situation, any 
more than will the change in the incumbency of the guberna 
torial post. Such measures merely affect the mechanics of the 
situation, not its determinating principles. Unless the powers of 
the Chief Executive are clearly defined and the Filipino leaders 
firmly given to understand that the law must be obeyed and that 


the dispositions of the sovereign power must be respected, no 
measurable improvement in the situation need be expected. 

General Wood suggested a step which would be very helpful to 
the Chief Executive of the Islands and at the same time obviate 
any grievance over "militaristic rule." He proposed that the 
money collected in the United States as duty on Philippine to 
bacco imports be employed for the purpose of supplying the 
Governor-General with a civilian personnel of expert advisers 
and assistants. At present he has no choice but to make use of 
such Army officers as may be assigned to him by the War 

Revision of the Jones Law along the lines indicated would 
doubtless evoke opposition in Filipino political circles and 
among Americans strongly sympathetic with the Filipino cause. 
The proposed steps are likely to be characterized as "reaction 
ary", "imperialistic" and "backward." The Filipino opposi 
tion, however, would not be as formidable or fraught with as dire 
consequences as might be anticipated. General Wood since his 
last return to the United States repeatedly made some very sig 
nificant statements which should be given deep consideration by 
all Americans concerned with the practical settlement of our 
Philippine difficulties. He told his interviewers time and again 
that the Filipino people are happy and contented, that they are 
appreciative of what America has done for them, that they have 
the lowest per capita tax rate in the world, and that General 
Aguinaldo and many other Filipinos are loyal friends of America. 
These statements will be substantiated by every American who 
has been in the Philippines recently and has had the opportunity 
of sounding the hearts of the Filipino masses. These people 
have not a single deep-seated grievance against America or its 
official representatives. Under these circumstances a serious 
revolt against the sovereign power is unthinkable, no matter 
what veiled or open threats individual native firebrands may 
make. Our statesmen and lawmakers should not take the 
oratorical outpourings of Filipino politicians too seriously. 

Unfortunately the Philippine question has been injected into 
American politics and has its partisan aspects. A sinking of 
these partisan considerations in a national, statesmanlike treat- 


ment of the question is devoutly to be wished, but perhaps is 
difficult of realization. Moreover, any suggestion of a reversal of 
our past optimistic course with respect to Philippine autonomy is 
almost sure to be greeted with wholly irrelevant cries of "Im 
perialism" and "Rubber." It will require courage to overcome 
the influences opposed to the adoption of a revised, less concilia 
tory programme, but unless such a course is adopted, the Philip 
pines will become an increasingly troublesome national problem. 

Our Philippine position may be likened to that of a guardian 
over an ambitious and obstreperous minor who has been spoiled 
by too much kindness. The youngster requires firm corrective 
handling, both for his own good and for the good of those who 
come in contact with him. 

Let us hope that those in whose hands will lie the final disposi 
tion of this very complex and difficult problem will not permit 
sentimentalism, pseudo-liberalism and hyper-altruism to swerve 
them from the course which the true facts in the situation, 
common sense and reason shall dictate. By giving the problem 
impartial, conscientious study and consideration, according due 
weight to the suggestions of those who by experience are best 
fitted to advise, and courageously facing any unpleasant though 
necessary alternative that may arise, they will be rendering both 
their own people and the Filipino people a real service, one whose 
value will perhaps be better appreciated by future generations 
than by that of today. And such a course need not involve the 
slightest departure from our time-honored American traditions 
or ideals. 



OCTOBER 17 is the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the 
surrender of Burgoyne. Looking backward through a century 
and a half to that event, it can now be seen as one of the turning 
points of history. It did more than greatly assist the gaining of 
independence by the United States. It caused a realignment of 
European international relations and brought into being one 
of the most curious but lasting of international friendships. In 
cidentally, the expedition, planned and boggled by the British 
Ministry and followed by an act of bad faith on the part of the 
American Congress, is one of the most damning illustrations of 
the meddling with military affairs by civilian statesmen. 

Lord George Germaine, the Secretary for the Colonies in the 
English Cabinet, three thousand miles from the sphere of military 
operations and ignorant of the geography and character of the 
American wilderness, conceived the idea that by marching the 
British contingents in Canada southward to New York the Gen 
eral in that city, Sir William Howe, might receive some of the 
much needed reinforcements which could not be sent in sufficient 
numbers from England. It was also hoped by the scheme to 
isolate the New England States. The plan, clumsily complicated 
considering the terrain and other difficulties, called for three 
columns to move simultaneously toward Albany. A force made 
up mainly of Tories and savages was to advance from the West 
along the Mohawk Valley under Colonel St. Leger. A second, 
under Burgoyne, was to come down from Canada by way of Lake 
Champlain and Lake George; while a third, commanded by 
Howe, was to march up the Hudson from New York. It is 
somewhat uncertain just which objective was uppermost in the 
minds of the Ministry the reenf orcing of Howe or the severing 
of the Confederacy by control of the Hudson. The latter, how 
ever, caught the imagination and was highly approved in London. 


It found a strong advocate in Burgoyne, whose personal bravery 
and honorable treatment of men and officers had to atone for 
certain minor defects of character. 

Apart from incompetence in high quarters, the management 
of American campaigns from London had to encounter two 
serious difficulties. One of these was the length of time involved 
in communicating with officers in the field. Always many weeks 
and sometimes months elapsed between the forwarding of a dis 
patch and its receipt or answer on the other side of the Atlantic. 
Another was the extreme ignorance in England of the character 
and even geography of the American sphere of operations. In a 
country where the roads were for the most part only trails through 
the forest and where trees must be quickly felled every few yards 
across the way, the woodsman's "axe became almost as valuable 
a weapon of defense as the sword. 

Badly conceived, the campaign was mismanaged even from the 
start by the Minister in Downing Street. General Howe at New 
York had written home advising that he be allowed to make a 
descent on Pennsylvania, and to this Germaine had consented. 
A dispatch which was to have been signed and sent by him order 
ing Howe to advance to Albany to meet Burgoyne was never 
forwarded, whereas the attack on Philadelphia had been sanc 
tioned. On June 5, Howe did, indeed, receive a copy of instruc 
tions for the Canadian expedition sent to Carleton, the Governor- 
General of Canada, but without a word addressed to himself. 
Meanwhile, having obtained some reinforcements from England, 
he proceeded on the Pennsylvania campaign, embarking about 
fifteen thousand of his twenty -seven thousand troops. It was 
not until the last week of August when, after a voyage of over 
three weeks, Howe was in Chesapeake Bay, that he received a 
dispatch from Germaine expressing mildly the hope that the 
Pennsylvania operations would be over in time for him to assist 

Meantime, the latter General had left England with very defi 
nite instructions to proceed down the Lakes from Canada, effect 
a junction with Howe at Albany, and place himself under the 
latter 's orders. By June 17 Burgoyne had already reached Lake 
Champlain with about seven thousand British troops, a disap- 


pointingly small Canadian contingent, and a considerable num 
ber of Indians, in entire ignorance of the fact that he could count 
on none of the promised help from New York. He was also 
doomed to disappointment from the West, for there, a little later, 
an American force under Benedict Arnold as volunteer comman 
der so frightened St. Leger's Indians as to cause them to desert 
the English and indeed to prey on them more disastrously than 
did the Americans themselves. St. Leger's expedition ended 
in a rout and throughout the latter part of his advance Burgoyne 
was forced to carry out his imperative orders with no help from 
either of the other two columns. 

At first all went well. Owing to obstacles met with, some 
natural and some placed by the Americans, the progress was slow, 
but by the first week of July Ticonderoga, defended by the Ameri 
cans under General St. Clair, had been abandoned to the English 
owing to their having placed cannon on a dominating hill which 
the Americans had considered inaccessible to artillery. By July 
10 Burgoyne's forces had reached Skenesborough and begun the 
heavy work of constructing a road for transport of guns and stores 
to Fort Edward. It was a tremendous undertaking, for the 
Americans had felled innumerable trees and destroyed over forty 
bridges. It took exactly twenty days to cover the twenty miles, 
but by the end of the month Burgoyne had reached Fort Edward. 
Meanwhile, General Philip Schuyler, in command of the Ameri 
cans, had wisely retreated with his army to Still water, about 
thirty miles from Albany. The situation at New York was 
known to the Americans though not to Burgoyne, and every mile 
which that unfortunate General could be induced to extend his 
line into the wilderness and aw.ay from his base increased the 
chances of his ultimate disaster. 

The problem of supply was now beginning to hamper him 
effectively as he had not been given sufficient troops to guard his 
line of communication, or establish local bases for supply, even 
had his transport facilities been adequate. Knowing of the 
large quantity of stores which had been gathered at Bennington 
and misled in the intelligence given him that the country round 
about was largely Tory in sentiment, he detached a force under 
Colonel Baum to make a raid into Vermont. Unfortunately for 


him, he used bad judgment and sent too small a force, followed 
later by reinforcements which should have formed part of the 
original body. 

Although it was usually difficult to retain New Englanders in 
the American army for long periods and away from their native 
States, they were always ready to rise against such marauding 
expeditions and defend themselves near home. There had been 
a recent example of this on the British foray into Connecticut, 
which might have deterred Burgoyne had he known of it, or at 
least have led him to dispatch an adequate force. 

John Stark, whose claims to promotion had been ignored by 
Congress and who had resigned from the army, was then living 
on his farm and to him was entrusted the task of defending Ben- 
nington by the militiamen who swarmed in like angry bees from 
all the countryside. Stark's small force was independent of any 
higher military command, and the leader's refusal to obey orders 
received from General Schuyler brought forth a scathing and 
ill-timed rebuke from the meddling civilians in Congress. Their 
General in Vermont, Lincoln, saw the situation more clearly and 
sent reinforcements to Stark, which arrived just in time to offset 
the advantage gained by the enemy in the arrival of his reenf orce- 
ments under Colonel Breyman. 

Baum's force had consisted to a considerable extent of un 
mounted German dragoons, the plan having been to plunder 
the country and pick up horses on the march. The Indian allies, 
however, bent as always on personal plunder, destroyed all 
chances of this and merely served by their acts to rouse the people 
to greater fury. Before Baum could reach Bennington, the 
Americans were already there in force and he took up a defensive 
position about five miles from the town. By three o'clock on 
the following afternoon he had been completely surrounded by 
the Colonials and in their subsequent attack his troops, al 
though defending themselves with conspicuous bravery, suffered 
heavily. Stark, who had seen the gruelling fire at Bunker Hill, 
described the fighting at Bennington as "the hottest I ever saw". 
Victory was almost within his grasp when it was threatened by 
the approach of the British reenf orcements. Fortunately the 
men sent by Lincoln were also close at hand, and in the melee 


which followed the English were completely defeated and only 
just succeeded in getting away under cover of night, leaving 
behind them seven hundred prisoners, their artillery, a thousand 
stand of arms and other supplies which Burgoyne could ill afford 
to lose. 

His situation, indeed, was becoming desperate. Instead of 
gaining added supplies by the foray to the eastward he had lost 
heavily of his own. He now had only about five thousand troops 
with which to face the American regular forces and the militia, 
which latter, as he wrote, quickly assembled to the number of 
three or four thousand in whatever direction he pointed. He had 
heard nothing from Howe to the southward, and there was no 
help to be expected from St. Leger in the West. He himself saw 
that the part of wisdom would be to halt or even to retreat to 
Fort Edward, where his line of communication would be more 
secure. His troops, however, yet remained devotedly loyal to 
him. His orders were positive. To retreat except under dire 
necessity might spell misfortune for the force which he believed 
was cooperating with him from New York, though no word had 
come. He therefore determined at all hazards to press on and by 
August 19 had crossed the Hudson and approached near to the 
American forces at Still water. 

Meanwhile, one bit of luck had come his way. The time 
serving, incompetent, Congress -coddling Gates had been sent by 
that body to replace the unpopular but much more competent 
Schuyler. Fortunately for the country, Washington had sent 
Benedict Arnold to assist him. Gates had taken up a strong 
position on Bemis Heights, the top of which had been fortified 
by the Polish engineer Kosciusko, but the main body of the four 
teen thousand troops had been badly placed. If Burgoyne could 
seize the Heights, the entire American army would be at his 
mercy, and had the issue depended solely on Gates he would 
probably have been able to do so. The British General decided 
to make the attack in three columns through the dense forest, 
but the advance was perceived by American scouts. Arnold 
was anxious to fall upon the enemy with the whole American 
army but Gates, who wished to remain inert behind his entrench 
ments and was incapable of realizing the consequences of doing so, 


refused to move and was with great difficulty induced to give 
Arnold a mere detachment. Only after the battle had begun did 
Arnold succeed in getting as many as three thousand men from 
his commander. With these, after having failed to turn the 
enemy's right, he launched attack after attack against the center, 
and had he been properly supported by Gates would undoubtedly 
have broken through. As it was, in spite of Gates's stupidity and 
jealousy, the British suffered very heavily. Sir John Fortescue 
states that they lost over one-third of the force engaged, but all 
numbers, on both sides, throughout the campaign are difficult 
to estimate accurately. 

Burgoyne at once halted and threw up entrenchments. News 
soon came that the Americans had got behind him and had cap 
tured a flotilla on the Lake with troops and supplies destined for 
the luckless British. At last, however, a message arrived from 
New York, every previous one having been intercepted, and 
Burgoyne learned that Sir Henry Clinton was marching up the 
Hudson to make a diversion in his favor. This delayed the pre 
cipitate but wise retreat which otherwise would probably have 
been undertaken. 

Burgoyne's position was becoming desperate. Food was short 
and the numbers of Gates's army were increasing daily. He 
therefore resolved to make one last attack in an effort to extricate 
himself from a situation that had become untenable. In the face 
of overwhelming odds the attack failed and a retreat was ordered. 
On October 8 he again offered battle in his new position, but as 
the Americans could turn his right he was once more forced to 
retire, abandoning about five hundred sick and wounded. Re 
treat itself was now out of the question. All the fords on the 
route to Fort Edward were covered by Americans, who were also 
strongly entrenched all the way from that point to Fort George. 
Burgoyne's army was surrounded and almost starving. Clinton 
endeavored to get word to him in a message enclosed in a silver 
bullet, but the messenger was caught and hanged by the Ameri 
cans. On October 17 the inevitable surrender was made. Bur 
goyne refused the terms first offered by Gates, and it was finally 
agreed that the British troops should march out with all the 
honors of war, be taken at once to Boston and shipped to England 


on condition that they should not serve in America again during 
the war. 

Gates, who had held the British army at his mercy, mainly 
through the ability of Arnold, had made absurd terms and thrown 
away part of the fruits of victory. It was obvious to everyone 
that the thirty-five hundred men who had surrendered could be 
used by England to garrison posts in other parts of the empire 
and release a like number for service in America. Nevertheless 
the faith of the American Government had been pledged and the 
only thing to do was to live up to the agreement. Congress, 
however, haggled over the matter and at last seized on an angry 
word of Burgoyne, spoken in haste and justified annoyance, to 
claim that the terms had been broken. The British soldiers were 
never shipped to England, were separated from their officers in 
violation of the terms, and after some months taken to Virginia 
where they gradually disappeared. In spite of the protests of 
Washington and other high-minded Americans, the supreme legis 
lative body thus placed an indelible stain upon American honor. 

The most important result of the defeat of Burgoyne, as it 
developed, was the securing of the French alliance. Except for a 
few idealists, France and particularly the French Government 
had no love for republican America. They had, however, scores 
to settle with England and had long been watching to see whether 
the Americans would prove strong enough to divert enough of 
England's strength to make it safe for France to attack her. On 
the other hand, without the French alliance the American cause 
was practically doomed, as Washington admitted. Burgoyne's 
surrender decided the event. France came in, then Spain, and 
soon England found herself fighting half the world. Incidentally 
there was laid the foundation for that later traditional friendship 
between the "two great Republics" which has endured to the 
present day. Largely for sentimental reasons, France became 
the traditional friend, as England the traditional enemy, of 
America, and generations of schoolboys nourished their inter 
national sympathies on the Lafayette legend. The meddling 
incompetence of Germaine had succeeded in diverting from their 
natural channels the international emotional reactions of Ameri 
cans for a century and a half. 



NOT since the days of Charlemagne have the Slovenes formed 
an independent principality or kingdom. But they have man 
aged to survive as a distinct racial and linguistic unit, and though 
today they have cast their lot in the triune Serb -Croat-Slovene 
State they possess characteristics and problems of their own and 
retain a very considerable national consciousness and pride. 
They have been called "one of the most unnecessary races in 
Europe", and the comparative insignificance of their numbers 
barred them, in modern times at any rate, from aspiring to real 
independence. But geography forces Europe to consider their 
wishes. Their lands lie across the historic route of migrations 
from the East to the West; over a third of their total number of 
approximately a million and a half are today living outside the 
Yugoslav borders, mostly in Italy; and if Austria, following a re 
shuffling of European alliances, should join Germany, the Slo 
venes are the people which the new and enlarged Teutonic power 
would find blocking the road down to the coveted shores of the 
Adriatic. The feelings of the Slovenes would then be of even 
more importance in Yugoslav internal politics than they are to 
day, and would assume a central position in the calculations of 
two world capitals, Berlin and Rome. 

Pressed by the Avars from their first European homes in the 
Carpathians, the Slovenes gradually sifted westward during the 
seventh century and settled along the banks of the upper Save 
and Mur, in the fertile valleys of which Lyublyana, Maribor and 
Klagenfurt are now the principal towns, in the Istrian Peninsula, 
and in the Valley of the Isonzo. Outposts who pressed further 
west and north were gradually driven back, and laggards who 


stopped to make their homes on the rich Pannonian plain were 
swamped by the Magyars. But though deprived of many of 
their earlier home-lands, the Slovenes through all the Middle Ages 
remained a homogeneous population in the districts which in 
Hapsburg days were known as Carniola, southern Carinthia, the 
southern part of Styria, the eastern part of Gorz-Gradisca, and 
all Istria except a narrow band along the western coast. Today 
they remain entrenched in those same lands. But the Italian 
frontier as drawn at Paris has cut off nearly a half million from 
the main Slovene body, and some sixty thousand are found along 
the Austrian side of the Karawanken Mountains and spreading 
northward across the Klagenfurt basin. 

Through the eighteenth century the life of the Slovenes under 
Hapsburg rule was as uneventful as the turbulent course of Euro 
pean history permitted. Their status as a separate people did 
not suffer particularly. In fact, the religious and educational 
projects of Maria Theresa and Joseph II led those sovereigns to 
permit the translation of many books into Slovenian. Towards 
the end of the century, too, the breath of Romanticism made it 
self felt and helped to revitalize the national spirit, preparing the 
way for a momentous interruption of the traditional life of the 
Slovenes as a mere Hapsburg appendage namely, the conquests 
of Napoleon. As a result of the Treaty of Schonbrunn in 1809, 
Napoleon acquired all the Slovene territories and joined them 
with a large part of Croatia and the Adriatic coastlands from west 
of Trieste southward beyond Ragusa in the short-lived but epoch- 
making Province of Illyria. Yugoslav propagandists at the 
Paris Conference in 1919 were not slow to point out that Napo 
leon did not include the Isonzo Valley and the Italian fringe along 
the northern shores of the Adriatic in his Italian Kingdom, but in 
the Illyrian State, and that he made Trieste a "free port" because 
he saw that it belonged to its hinterland and was a natural rival of 
Venice, not a partner. The end of Illyria came in 1813, the same 
year, incidentially, as Kara-George's defeat and flight from 
Serbia into Hungary. The Slovenes were transferred back to 
the Hapsburgs. But the example of the short-lived Illyrian 
union of the Slovenes with their kinsmen the Croats, like the 
example of Serb militant patriotism, played an important part in 


the development of the Yugoslav idea through the years to come. 

When Bismarck called Trieste the tip of the German sword, he 
implied that the blade had already passed through the body of 
the Slovene people. In this he was right. Life in the triangle 
where the Slav, German and Italian worlds meet had become 
much more complicated after the conclusion of the Austro- 
Hungarian alliance with Germany in 1879. Little by little the 
routine absolutism of the Hapsburgs had been displaced by a 
racial crusade, instigated largely by Prussian expansionists who 
pointed to the energy and ambition of the Magyars in order to 
frighten Vienna into adopting a policy of active Germanization 
among its Slav subjects. This policy, while tending to narrow 
the linguistic frontier and reduce the proportion of Slovenes in 
the Slovene lands, produced its reaction in educated circles and 
awakened a patriotic resistance. 

By 1848, "the year of revolution," things had gone so far that 
Slovene patriots were petitioning Vienna for the creation of a 
Kingdom of Slovenia as a separate part of the Hapsburg realm. 
The agitation revived after the Austro-Hungarian Ausgleich 
(1867), which in the eyes of the Slavs of the Empire formalized 
the supremacy of the Germans in Austria and of the Magyars in 
Hungary. But following 1879 the Germanizers had their way, 
particularly after the elimination of statesmen like Taafe and 
Badeni, who had tried to limit Berlin's influence. The last 
Austrian census before the war, that of 1910, registered a total 
of only 1,197,657 Slovenes. During the preceding decade the 
average increase in the population of the Empire as a whole had 
been 9.44 per cent. ; but while the German population increased 
by 8.38 per cent, and the Italian by 7.67 per cent., the Slovene 
population increased by only 1.37 per cent. As the birthrate 
among the Slovenes was higher than among the Germans, and 
almost as high as among the Italians, the decrease in their 
relative numbers was due to denationalization and emigration. 

Through all the later phase of their racial struggle the Slovenes 
found the Italian subjects of the Empire leagued with the Ger 
mans against them. This Italian tendency was not in accord 
with the advice of many Italian patriots, among them Cavour, 
Mazzini and Tommaseo, who believed that Istria and Dalmatia 


belonged to the Slavs and that the Italians there should be their 
partners in combating the German push toward the Adriatic. 
But this was a far-sighted view that failed of support in places like 
Trieste, Gorz and Pola, where the competition between Slav and 
Italian was extremely active; where, moreover, in the opening 
years of the century, the Slovenes began taking an increasingly 
important share in commerce, banking and shipping, at the ex 
pense of both Austrian and Italian interests. 


The Austro-Hungarian annexation of Bosnia-Herzegovina in 
1908 was one of the events connected directly with the World 
War. On the one hand it weakened the Dual Monarchy, be 
cause Vienna and Budapest could never agree on the status of the 
new province. On the other hand, it infuriated the young and 
ambitious in all divisions of the Yugoslav race in Bosnia itself, 
in Austria-Hungary, and in independent Serbia and forced them 
willy-nilly to compromise their different aims and coordinate 
their plans. Bosnia might have become an apple of discord be 
tween the parallel and growing movements for a Greater Croatia 
and a Greater Serbia. But the annexation gave new significance 
to the Serbian motto: Samo Sloga Srbina Spasava Only Union 
Saves Serbs. As Prof. Kerner has pointed out, after 1908 one 
solution alone was possible a Yugoslav solution. The more 
vigorous the Slav policy of the Hapsburgs, the more close-knit 
the resistance of the Yugoslavs; the bolder the Yugoslav move 
ment, the more complete the hold of the extremists at Vienna and 
Budapest. July, 1914, was the result. 

The war history of the Slovenes proved that even a recent and 
still rather superficial national consciousness is nevertheless 
stronger than political tradition. Like the other subject nation 
alities of the Empire, the Slovenes were drafted for service under 
the Hapsburg colors. But the desertions on both fronts (par 
ticularly the Russian) undermined the morale of the Austro- 
Hungarian armies, and the propaganda conducted covertly at 
home and openly and actively abroad, especially through the 
Yugoslav Committee in London, prepared the minds of the Yugo- 


slavs of the Empire for action as soon as it could be taken effec 
tively and as soon as Entente statesmen, especially those of Italy, 
had been educated far enough for the Yugoslav leaders to feel 
reasonably sure that the dissolution of the historic state structure 
would not merely mean a change in masters. 

As early as May, 1917, we find the Slovene Clericals and Dal 
matian Liberals in the Viennese Reichsrat joining forces under 
the Slovene priest, Father Koroshets, and presenting open de 
mands for the unification of all the Serb, Croat and Slovene dis 
tricts of the Empire; they hardly bothered to camouflage the 
threat of secession under a perfunctory reference to the continua 
tion of Hapsburg sovereignty. About the same time a petition 
was signed by 200,000 Slovene women for the incorporation of 
Slovenia in a state that should include all Yugoslavs. The 
movement was also strengthened by the fall of the Czarist Gov 
ernment, as Russian statesmen of the old school, especially 
Sazonov, favored the plan of forming a purely Orthodox state out 
of Serbia, Bosnia and Montenegro, on the theory that it would 
be more susceptible to Russian influence than a larger country 
that included the Roman Catholic Croats and Slovenes. In 
July, 1917, the Pact of Corfu, signed on behalf of Serbia by 
Premier Pashich and on behalf of the Yugoslavs of the Empire by 
Dr. Trumbich, a Dalmatian Deputy then in exile, expressed in 
writing the determination of all three branches of the Yugoslav 
race to unite on a constitutional basis under the Karageorgevich 
dynasty. The "Congress of Oppressed Nationalities", organ 
ized at Rome in April, 1918, heartened the Yugoslavs still further, 
for Italy had been holding suspiciously aloof from support of the 
Yugoslav idea. From this time on the disintegration of the 
Austro-Hungarian forces on land and sea proceeded with increas 
ing rapidity. 

By August the authority of the Viennese Government had 
virtually come to an end in the Slovene lands. On the sixteenth 
a Slovene National Council constituted itself at Lyublyana under 
the Presidency of Father Koroshets, who also became President 
of the larger Yugoslav National Council which met shortly in 
Zagreb. On October 16 Emperor Charles issued a manifesto 
converting Austria into a federation of self-governing States. 

VOL. ccxxiv. NO. 836 25 


But such temporizing could not stem the tide. When President 
Wilson, replying to Count Andrassy, announced that the Czecho 
slovaks and Yugoslavs were themselves to decide what form of 
autonomy would suit them, the Yugoslav standard went up all 
over Croatia and Slovenia as if by magic. The coming Peace 
Conference might decide just what should be done with the 
pieces; but this was of secondary importance; the Hapsburg Em 
pire, after seven hundred and fifty years of dominion in Eastern 
Europe, had already fallen apart. 

When the Yugoslavs had organized their new and amorphous 
State in accordance with the Pact of Corfu, and had secured the 
recognition of the Powers, their first and principal aspirations 
were fulfilled. Of all their leaders none had worked more ef 
fectively than Father Koroshets. In the final phase he had 
pressed for immediate and complete union with Serbia; the Slo 
vene territories were threatened by the Italian invasions which 
naturally followed the collapse of the Austrian defense, and he 
trusted the prestige of Serbian statesmen and Serbian arms to 
preserve the integrity of the whole territory inhabited compactly 
by the Yugoslav race. He was right in foreseeing that hence 
forward the Slovenes' chief troubles were to be with Italy. They 
already had a grievance in the fact that though Italy was basing 
her claim to Slav territories north and east of the Adriatic on the 
Treaty of London, her troops were occupying numerous points 
far beyond the line of that Treaty. As the Peace Conference 
proceeded they also became angered, as did the Poles, Czechs and 
Rumanians, because although the Powers insisted on the Suc 
cession States signing agreements to respect the rights of minori 
ties, no such promise was required of Italy, who was about to 
acquire great blocks of German and Slav subjects. 

The Treaty of St. Germain (September 10, 1919) established 
the new Yugoslav frontier toward Austria. No decisions could 
be made regarding the Italian frontier, despite prolonged and 
often acrimonious discussions. President Wilson, all of whose 
weight was thrown against any recognition of the secret Treaty 
of London, had suggested on April 14, 1919, a compromise line 
giving Gorz, Gradisca, Trieste, western Carniola and western 
Istria, including Pola, to Italy, but leaving Dalmatia and Fiume 


to Yugoslavia. The Treaty of London would have put about 
750,,000 Yugoslavs under Italian rule. The "Wilson Line" 
would still have given Italy about half that number. This 
compromise was refused by Orlando and Sonnino. A later 
Allied proposal (put forward January 14, 1920, after Wilson had 
returned to the United States) suggested giving certain other 
districts in Carniola to Italy, adding 120,000 more Slovenes to 
the 365,000 that Wilson had consented should be transferred to 
Italy. In a sarcastic cable from Washington the President re 
fused to allow Yugoslavia to be coerced into acceptance, and the 
matter passed into direct negotiation between Rome and Bel 
grade. Into those troubled negotiations we shall not enter here. 
The upshot was that by the Treaty of Rapallo, November 12, 
1920, Fiume was made a Free State (though ultimately annexed 
by Italy), Italy got most of the Carniola districts she particularly 
desired, while Dalmatia was recognized as belonging to Yugo 
slavia. This arrangement, judging by the 1910 Austrian census, 
left between 470,000 and 480,000 Yugoslavs in Italy, the greater 
part of them Slovenes. About 7,000 scattered Italians were left 
in Yugoslavia. 


The third of the Slovene race who in this way came under 
Italian rule seem far from content at the present time. They are 
hardly justified in complaining because the Fascist regime en 
forces upon them the same laws limiting freedom of speech, 
assemblage and the press which are applied in other parts of 
Italy; presumably, they must tolerate whatever the Italian people 
as a whole tolerate. But there is some strength in their plaint 
that in the Slovene lands and in the German South Tyrol the 
series of repressive laws designed to eliminate the opponents of 
Fascism from Italian political life are twisted to serve purely 
racial ends. For example, the decree permitting the cancellation 
of the citizenship of persons who make critical remarks abroad 
about the policy of the Italian Government prevents the foreign 
press from learning the true situation in the annexed territories. 
Restrictions on the sale of properties situated in the frontier dis 
tricts have also created hard feeling; the Slavs believe these re- 


strictions are based less on concern for the military safety of the 
frontier than on the hope of depreciating the value of Slav hold 
ings, so that they will emigrate from their old homesteads and 
make room for an Italian population. There is continual fric 
tion, also, regarding the closing of Slovene schools, the dissolution 
of Slovene cultural and athletic societies, and the change in 
geographical names. 

The Italian Government's policy of denationalization has been 
seconded by active Fascist bands. For instance, in the week 
following the Bologna attack on Mussolini (November 1, 1926), 
Black Shirts sacked the Slovene clubs and educational associations 
in the city of Gorizia, destroyed the offices of Slovene lawyers, and 
burnt out the premises of the local Slav newspaper, the Strazha. 
They did not allege any Slovene hand in the attack on Mussolini; 
they merely made it an excuse to intimidate the principal Slovene 
town in Italy. A few days later one of the two Slovene Deputies 
in the Italian Parliament, Dr. Joseph Wilfan, was arrested in 
Rome; the other, Dr. Besednjak, who at the moment was abroad, 
was warned by placards stuck up on the walls of Gorizia not to 
return to Italy on pain of his life. 

The difficulties of the Slovene population under Austrian rule, 
and of the Austrians under Yugoslav rule, are less important. 
Not only are the numbers of persons involved very much smaller 
than in the case of the Yugoslav population in Italy, but the 
accusations and counter-accusations hurled across the frontier of 
the Karawanken Mountains interest mainly the provincial 
capitals of Klagenfurt and Lyublyana and leave Vienna and 
Belgrade comparatively cold. Whatever tension exists is the 
natural sequel of the fighting between Slovene and Austrian 
irregulars in the spring of 1919, and of the bitter electoral cam 
paign preceding the plebiscite held at Klagenfurt on October 10, 
1920, under the terms of the Treaty of St. Germain. In the 
plebiscite the inhabitants of the southern and most Slovene sec 
tion of the Klagenfurt basin voted by 22,025 to 15,279 to remain 
in Austria; nor can it be said that the frontier thereby established 
between Austria and Yugoslavia is not excellent from the geo 
graphical point of view. The barrier of the Karawanken Moun 
tains rises majestically between the two countries, traversed only 


by one long tunnel and two or three serpentine motor roads. But 
the frontier's suitability could hardly be expected to reconcile the 
Slovenes as a whole to the loss of some sixty thousand of their 
compatriots, a series of fertile valleys, and the site of the ancient 
stone throne before which used to appear the Dukes of Carinthia 
to receive at the hands of a free Slovene peasant the rights of 
domain. There have been occasional manifestations in Lyub- 
lyana to remind people of their brethren who are supposed to be 
languishing under Austrian rule, and every diminution of former 
scholastic or other rights of the Slovene population in Carinthia 
has been reported and magnified in the Lyublyana press. Ap 
parently there are some real grievances, such as the abolition of 
the last of the purely Slovenian schools in Carinthia, and the de 
crease of " utraquistic " or two-language schools, where the two 
first classes are taught in Slovene but thereafter instruction is in 
German. The Austrian press complains of the same sort of 
cultural repression in Yugoslavia that the Slovenes allege in 
Carinthia. Doubtless there is some truth in what they say. 
Belgrade has been having trouble with some of the semi-Fascists 
of Slovenia, and only last summer had to suppress the national 
istic organization " Oryuna ", which had been making the German 
population a target of abuse. 

The Austrian population in Slovenia and the Slovene popula 
tion in Austria both show striking declines from the 1910 Haps- 
burg census. In Slovenia (including the Prekomurye) in 1910 
there were 105,300 persons registered as having German for their 
mother tongue; the 1921 Yugoslav census reduced the number to 
39,631. In Carinthia in 1910 about 66,000 persons gave Slovene 
as their mother tongue; the 1923 Austrian census showed only 
37,224. Emigration, local pressure, false enrolment by can 
vassers for nationalistic purposes, the desire of many people after 
the war to lead a quiet life and adapt themselves to new circum 
stances a variety of reasons may be given for the changes shown 
on the face of the census returns. 

The Slovene complaints against Austria are not to be taken too 
seriously, the less so as Father Koroshets, who today heads the 
Slovene delegation of Deputies in the Belgrade Parliament, is in 
terested in promoting better relations between the two countries 


and is even suspected of wishing to bring about an Austro-Yugo- 
slav entente as an offset to the proposed Austrian union with 
Germany. The anxiety of Slovene leaders for good relations with 
Austria will naturally increase as the chagrin at the loss of Klag- 
enfurt pales beside the anger and fear awakened by the active 
policy of denationalization pursued in the Slovene lands of Italy. 
One difficulty is that the Austrian Federal Government is weak 
and is forced to allow a good deal of rope to the provincial leaders 
of Graz and Klagenfurt, who are naturally more anti-Yugoslav 
than the politicians of Vienna and who know that the sentiments 
which led the Slovenes of their neighborhood to vote for Austria 
in 1920 are not necessarily permanent and might change over 
night, particularly if there were serious question of union between 
Austria and Germany. After all, the Klagenfurt plebiscite was 
held in order to give the population there a choice between 
Austria and Yugoslavia, not Germany and Yugoslavia. Moder 
ate leaders in Lyublyana admit that at present there is no real 
"Klagenfurt question," but they say that if the Anschluss ma 
terializes, on that day the Klagenfurt question will be reopened. 
And so we find ourselves again discussing the Anschluss. 
On it seems to depend the future importance of the Slovene 
Question, which is not dead, but sleeps. It sleeps very uneasily 
in the Slovene lands of Italy, where a chance act of violence might 
at any time disrupt the already parlous relations of Rome and 
Belgrade. It sleeps fairly comfortably along the Yugoslav- 
Austrian frontier, where occasional acts of repression and reprisal 
are too petty to cause more than local heart-burnings. But the 
signal for its revival, for it to assume proportions as a European 
question, would be the union of Austria and Germany. This act 
would immediately force Yugoslavia to choose between making a 
friend or foe of her new and powerful German neighbor. It 
would face Italy with rejuvenated Germany instead of feeble and 
mendicant Austria on a long and difficult frontier, and it would 
bring Germany to within a few dozen miles of Trieste. It would 
restore to the Slovenes, inhabiting the debatable lands where 
German, Slav and Italian meet, the opportunity of throwing 
their weight into the scale one way or the other, perhaps deci 



WHERE fashion is concerned, it is extraordinary how scrupu 
lously women obey the Scriptures and make subjection their duty 
in life. Few, save the reformer and the recluse, ever willingly 
become conspicuous by defiance of the passing mode and, indeed, 
until now I have been no exception to the rule. In my time I 
have worn hoops and bustles, sleeves wide as wings and hats like 
flower gardens. I have dragged long skirts through dust and 
mud, and endured the agony of walking in tight skirts. I have 
appeared in basques, boleros, blouses and shirtwaists. I have 
exposed my neck in rounds and V's and squares. I have been 
gored, ruffled, pleated. I have been tucked, scalloped, fringed. 
Never before have I failed to conform, with the docility of my sex 
and sometimes at great inconvenience, to the dressmaker's law 
that women must not show themselves this year in what last 
year was the height of good form. At last, however, I have 
rebelled, and, if anything could reconcile me to old age, it is the 
reason it gives for my unbobbed hair and the unfashionable 
length of my gown. 

My new independence after a long lifetime of meek sub 
servience puzzles me. Not even Carlyle, posing as Teufelsdrock, 
could have thought more about clothes than I have been thinking 
since I strayed from the straight and narrow path. With him I 
turn to history, to logic, to philosophy for an explanation. With 
him I go back to the beginning. I ask myself: What was the 
origin of clothes? What are they for, anyway? And then: Do 
the long silk stockings and scanty skirts fulfil the end of clothes 
less well than the hoops and bustles, the massive draperies in 
which women's legs once disappeared altogether? Or do they 
fulfil it better? 

The practical man would probably tell me that I am making a 
great ado about nothing, that the end of clothes always has been, 


is, and always shall be health and comfort and, moreover, in no 
climate could we do without them. But the practical man forgets 
that the primitive races, in their primitive nakedness, were 
healthier and more comfortable than after the missionary put 
them into clothes and, with the empire-builder who brought 
disease as his gift, sent the primitive death rate soaring. The 
more advanced races who, of their own unfettered will, added 
clothes to their beads and bracelets, their anklets and nose rings, 
at once sought and kept on seeking to make them as uncom 
fortable as possible. Civilization hardly improved matters. 
The Worths and Pooles of the Greeks and Romans had some little 
pity and kindness. But, as a rule, the makers of fashion have 
imposed upon humanity through the ages an intolerable burden of 
superfluous and cumbersome covering. As far as weight goes, 
the present fashion relieves woman of part of this burden. Since 
Eve wandered out of Paradise attired in a fig-leaf, she has seldom 
gone so lightly clad, seldom looked so free to walk, to run, to 
play whatever game she pleases, to take up all the sports that once 
were man's monopoly. Paris has done the unexpected and pro 
duced an effect of freedom in the fashion. 

I say "an effect" advisedly, for it does not follow that the 
lighter burden means greater freedom, except for the young girl, 
slight and slim and spare by nature, who would be free in almost 
anything she chose to wear. The woman, large and portly by 
nature, who has not starved and massaged herself into slimness, 
may attain the appearance of freedom, but only by an elaboration 
of corsets, girdles, bands, supports, which the outward simplicity 
of her gown conceals. The fashionable flatness of today is no 
less artificial than the fashionable wasp waist of the day before 
yesterday or any of the strange protuberances that have had 
their vogue. Fashion's approved figure has always called for 
restraint somewhere. There is as small comfort for the modern 
woman in her one-piece gown, if her lines and curves are not built 
that way, as there was for the mediaeval woman in her bulky skirts 
and extravagant headgear or for the Eighteenth Century woman 
in her monstrous wig and wide-spreading panniers. And when 
the outward effect is achieved, the modern woman promptly 
loses it if she attempts to take her ease. The present skirts may 


be admirable for play and sport, but for most other things they 
are as endless an anxiety as hoops and bustles were to our grand 
mothers. The overcovered lady of the 'Sixties had no more 
difficulty in keeping her ballooning skirts down to her feet when 
seated, than today's undercovered lady has in inducing her meagre 
skirts to stay down to her knees. In the street her plight is worse. 
On a winter day she envelops herself in furs to her knees and 
exposes her legs and feet in sheer silk stockings and toy slippers to 
all the winds that blow. In summer she bares her neck and arms, 
though people she would think barbarians are too wise not to 
protect every part of their bodies from the sun when the heat is 
tropical. But women would rather perish than listen to common 
sense if fashion beckons the other way. They accept the dis 
comfort without a murmur and turn a deaf ear to those doctors 
who, in this reckless exposure of silk-clad legs to winter's cold, see 
a serious menace to health. 

Bobbed hair, extolled as the new freedom's crowning touch, is 
little more than its symbol. A bob must be becoming at no 
matter what expense of time and money. Puffs and ringlets, 
"rats" and wigs, were not more exacting. There are swirls and 
swirls, waves and waves, curls and curls, and the finest of fine 
shades separate the right kind from the wrong. To be correct a 
daily visit to the hairdresser is hardly too many. Wind is an 
enemy to be fought and dampness the very devil. If by a boyish 
bob a woman evades the curling irons and a permanent wave, it is 
merely to face more trouble with oils and pomatums, while the 
attainment of the approved outline is as tedious a business as the 
making of a "waterfall" or the building of a "bun". And the 
reward of her labors? The prophecy of a bald future for the 
woman who encloses her bobbed head in the tight-fitting cap or 
casque that goes with it and that is far from being the light and 
airy nothing it looks. From whatever standpoint I consider the 
woman of today in her short skirts, long stockings, toy slippers, 
bobbed hair and tight cap, I can come but to the one conclusion, 
that if the reason for clothes is comfort and health, she is as 
lamentable a failure as fashion has produced. 

To the early Fathers of the Church, her failure would have 
seemed the punishment she deserves, comfort being a snare of 


Satan and the health of the soul alone of importance. According 
to them, the sole object of clothes is to cover our nakedness. 
Woman is an evil at the best, and the less she shows of herself, 
the greater the chance of man's salvation. The very glory of her 
hair, Paul reminded her, was given her for a covering. In that 
capacity it had its limitations. And so had Eve's fig-leaf. By 
the time the Fathers of the Church took fashion in hand, woman's 
dress had spread to far more seemly dimensions, but never had 
she been so laden with clothes as when an ecclesiastical watch 
was set upon her wardrobe. She might leave face, hands and a 
tiny space of neck unhidden, but any further revelations would 
have been at the risk of hell fire. Christian women, even Chris 
tian men when their appointed tasks in the world permitted, 
barricaded themselves so securely within the garments of the 
Christian fashion that the more virtuous had never seen such a 
thing as a naked human body, not even their own. But the more 
woman yielded, the more the Fathers of the Church demanded. 
When the quantity of her covering came near satisfying them, 
they questioned its quality. Not for her gold and pearls and 
costly array, not for her beauty and harmony of color. The 
virtuous woman was to clothe herself in modest apparel, with 
shamefacedness and sobriety. When she fell from grace, as I am 
glad to know she did, saints denounced her in public. Savonarola 
in Florence would have her go as unadorned as a nun. St. 
Bernardine of Siena, when he saw the ladies of his town in their 
high "stilts", trailing their garments behind them, fumed with 
rage and took their backsliding for the theme of a Sunday sermon. 
It was fashion's hardest, cruelest, most fanatical phase for woman, 
but they bore up as they always have through fashion's secular 
excesses. And they found some compensations. Probably our 
advanced, half -naked flapper* could teach nothing to the heavily 
upholstered mediaeval maiden. After all, it was when woman's 
garments were most severe that the Troubadours were singing 
their sweetest songs of love. 

The Fathers of the Church had long innings, but tyranny, 
when overdone, invites revolt. The Renaissance, as an eye- 
opener, helped woman on a bit in hers; the French Revolution 
loosened her shackles to such a point that the pendulum was 


bound to swing the other way again as it did, to the orgy of 
Victorian prudishness. It has taken woman until now to pro 
claim her emancipation from Church-ruled fashions in a dress 
that has, apparently, no other object than to cover as little of her 
nakedness as possible. A few inches off the fashionable skirt, a 
few off the fashionable sleeves, a few off the fashionable neck, 
and she would be well on the road back to beads and bracelets and 
loin-cloth. Already she is a living refutation of the theory that 
clothes were invented to cover her. Occasionally the Vatican 
thunders and the echoes roll from pulpit on to pulpit. The 
Spanish Queen dutifully heeds the rumblings. The English 
Queen valiantly upholds the Victorian tradition. Crusaders 
announce a Crusade to rescue female modesty, and the Pope 
wishes victory to the "high enterprise". But the authority of 
Rome long ago passed to Paris, woman joyfully exchanged Rome's 
tyranny for one infinitely more to her taste, and until Paris decrees 
a return to the garb of modesty, the labor of Church, Royalty and 
Crusaders will be in vain. 

Philosophy is supposed to be concerned with more abstruse 
matters than clothes. But at least one philosopher of clear 
vision has seen their importance and studied them with a knowl 
edge beyond the practical man's reach and without the prejudice 
that held the Fathers of the Church in its grip. The first purpose 
of clothes, Teufelsdrock says, "is not warmth or decency, but 
ornament. . . . Man's pains of Hunger and Revenge once sat 
isfied, his next care was not Comfort but Decoration . . . the 
first spiritual want of a barbarian". If the original home of the 
hair-mantled, flint-hurling Aboriginal Anthropophagus, our an 
cestor, was that high plateau of Asia, as some scientists believe, 
he must have needed a covering, and a good substantial one at 
that, the moment he shed his hair. But for his habits at the 
start, even should it be proved that it was there the human race 
was evolved, the most imaginative scientist cannot vouch. In 
the case of primitive men actually discovered in their primitive- 
ness, however, it is known for a fact that Teufelsdrock is right 
and that decoration came first. Though clothes were mostly 
missing, ornament, or some suggestion of it, seldom was a 
string of beads, a riot of tattooing, a flower in the hair, and they 


were dressed. Those who wandered into colder climes never 
sacrificed ornament to the covering they could not altogether 
dispense with. The Red Indian would probably have stayed 
naked and frozen rather than part with his feathers and his beads 
and his fringes. 

Living at the best is a grim business, and to get away from its 
grimness man has always preferred to dally with the non-essen 
tials rather than to grapple with the essentials of life. The joy 
of the savage in strings of beads and tattooing and flowers is 
simply because they are without a shadow of utility. Craving 
for decoration, desire for beauty, is the basis of every passing 
fashion of the savage, the barbarian, the civilized man. Un 
fortunately, only the few know what beauty is, and the many are 
more than content with the ugliness fashion calls by its name. 
So it has always been, though Ruskin and his kind would have us 
think ugliness a product of the Nineteenth Century. Fashion 
did not wait until then to disfigure women. It took Rembrandt 
to find beauty in the admirably modest but otherwise forbidding 
gowns of the housewives of Holland, Velasquez to capture it in 
the "unsesthetic hoops" of the Spanish Infantas, Whistler and 
Charles Keene to reveal it in the later and no less unsesthetic 
hoops of the 'Sixties. It would be a herculean task for the 
greatest master of them all to wrest it from the silk stockings, 
bobbed heads and one-piece gowns of the present generation. 

Here you have the real objection to the mode of the moment. 
Discomfort and indecency might be forgiven if they made for 
beauty. Want of beauty is the unpardonable sin. Gowns as 
now fashioned may be and often are beautiful in themselves, 
charm in their color, daintiness in their draping. But draping 
and color in the loveliest creation from Paris are of no avail if 
the last thing considered is the woman who is to wear it. Her 
lines, her curves, her proportions, must be carefully studied so 
long as she is compelled to make so wholesale a display of them, a 
fact understood only by the most accomplished purveyors of 
fashion, and their prices are beyond all save a small minority. 
The average woman is hopelessly out of drawing in the ready- 
made one-piece gown, for the excellent reason that its lines have 
no relation to hers. We laugh at the old hoops and bustles with 


their distorted curves and protuberances, but women could af 
ford the distortion because it was unmistakably artificial. The 
curves and protuberances of today are natural, which is quite 
another thing. Put a large woman and America today runs 
to a full-blown type into the daintiest one-piece gown, and 
neither Rowlandson nor Daumier could have conceived so cruel 
a caricature. This is why the modern fashion is anything but 
the menace to morals it is thought in some quarters. In mystery 
there may be temptation, not in such a wholesale exposure of the 
undesirable. Nakedness is a scandal when it is exceptional, 
not when it is the rule. The middle-aged woman is the saddest 
victim. The old-fashioned idea was that a woman should dress 
her age, if not anticipate it. To us it seems tragic for a woman to 
be compelled to look sixty while still in the forties, which was 
the fate of our grandmothers. A more tragic spectacle is the 
woman of sixty aping twenty in gowns that would be trying to 
the Venus of Milo and equipped with enough powder and paint 
and henna to stock a small Beauty Parlor. But it is when I see 
women in evening dress, cropped hair, skirts receding further and 
further above the knees, faces wearing their make-up as a mask 
all the old dignity, the old grace, the old elegance thrown to the 
winds that I despair of their sense of humor even more than of 
their sense of beauty. The revelation of the human form today 
is without limit, and the human form in most women cannot 
stand the ordeal. 

The Fathers of the Church defeated their own ends when they 
forgot that concealment is a challenge to curiosity. The little 
foot that peeps in and out is more alluring than the foot with 
thick ankle and stout leg uncomprisingly exhibited to the public 
gaze, and the short skirts have betrayed the lamentable fact that 
few women, young or old, have good legs. If woman's respect 
for fashion were not stronger than vanity, she would not consent 
to display her ill-shaped legs and, worse, her uncomely knees. I 
applaud the German Judge who sent a woman out of court to 
pull up her stockings before she went into the witness box, 
though the ugliness of the rolled stocking, not the impropriety 
that disturbed him, is my objection. Fashion has ceased to show 
too little simply to show too much, and of the two extremes this 


is the more mistaken. When fashion supplied a superfluity of 
covering nature's indiscretions could be kept out of sight. The 
present scanty covering confirms Whistler's argument that na 
ture is so rarely right, we may safely say nature is usually 

A hopeful leader of her sex has lately assured women that the 
day of their release from fashion's tyranny is at hand. Now they 
have won their right to practise law and medicine, to go into busi 
ness, to educate, to preach, to play at politics, they will claim the 
further right to design a dress for themselves, becoming in its ap 
propriateness to their new tasks. But the leader, the reformer, 
always has a pleasant tendency to see things not as they are but 
as she would have them. From my knowledge of women I am 
forced to an altogether different conclusion. Always with 
women, the more it changes the more it is the same thing, and in 
their loyalty to fashion, whether Paris rules or a new dictator suc 
ceeds, whether short skirts and bobbed hair give way to hoops and 
pompadours, they probably will not waver. Certainly, there is 
no reason to think they will. They have never been as independ 
ent as they are now, and yet never have they been slaves of a 
more foolish fashion. To see women long done with youth got 
up as overgrown schoolgirls, stopping in the midst of whatever it 
may be to powder their noses and use their lipsticks, is to have no 
great confidence in the coming millennium when they are to purge 
fashion of its follies by their common sense. Not that I am par 
ticularly eager they should. Fashion is not invariably mis 
guided, it has often given pictures queness and color to the past, 
even in its most fantastic phase it relieves the dulness and drab- 
ness of the everyday world. My quarrel is with the disregard of 
beauty for fashion's sake with the fashion that disfigures and 
distorts women who should always be the beautiful incidents in 
the grey pageant of life. 



HENRY M. STANLEY, hero of a celebrated journalistic exploit, 
quit newspaper work after he found Livingstone, and began 
writing his reminiscences. Rumors reached his former asso 
ciates that he was having domestic trouble; it was even whispered 
that he had beaten his wife; and Aubrey Stanhope of The New 
York Herald staff was sent to investigate. It was a ticklish 
assignment. Stanley was an irascible man. For a time the 
two chatted amiably, and then the reporter, gathering courage, 
blurted out his question. As the import of the visit dawned 
upon Stanley he clenched his fists savagely. After a tense half- 
minute, relaxing, he gasped: "God! To think I used to do that 
sort of thing myself!" 

James Gordon Bennett the elder was the first American news 
paper exploiter of private affairs. He was the first to print 
news for its selling value as news, without regard for its political 
effect. Before his time there had been personalities a-plenty, 
but they were political. Many years before The Herald was 
founded Major Benjamin Russell, of The Massachusetts Centinel, 
told how his life had been threatened by an angry citizen, on 
account of certain personal aspersions; but the issue in that 
case was the Constitution. The first paper De Tocqueville read 
on his arrival here in 1831 declared that Andrew Jackson "gov 
erns by means of corruption, and his immoral practices will 
redound to his shame and confusion". The "open and coarse" 
appeal to popular passion which the visitor noted was still an 
appeal to political passion. After the Revolution the press 
proclaimed itself the palladium of liberty, and by that token 
apparently considered itself privileged to abuse whom it would. 

The first penny paper, founded in 1830 in Philadelphia, was 
short-lived. In 1832 in New York there were eleven six-cent 
papers, with an average circulation of but 1700, sold by subscrip- 


tion only. The theory prevailed that literacy should be con 
fined to the well-to-do, then the ruling class, and that the press 
was meant exclusively for the well-educated. But "Old Hick 
ory's" administration and the coming of The Sun and Herald 
upset the notion that only the genteel were fit to know the news. 
These papers were edited to please different tastes. They 
exploited personal affairs not for political effect but for revenue 
only. Details about police cases and divorce suits made their 
appearance in the daily prints. On August 4, 1836, The Sun 
noted "a change in the mass of the people", and boasted that it 
had "probably done more to benefit the community by enlighten 
ing the minds of the common people than all the other papers 

The editors of the six-cent papers, or some of them, speculated 
in the stock market, on tips from their Wall Street cronies, and 
Bennett told about it in his paper. James Watson Webb, 
editor of The Courier and Enquirer, met him on the street one day 
and knocked him down. A few months later he repeated the 
assault one of many Bennett suffered and the facts were 
fully set forth in The Herald, whereat its circulation jumped by 
nine thousand. Bennett could smile, so he said, at assassins 
and daggers; he would "never abandon the cause of truth, 
morals and virtue"; he was conscious of his own "virtue, in 
tegrity and purest principles". 

It is in its character as a public servant, gathering news to 
which the public is entitled, that the newspaper invades privacy; 
and ironically it is most likely at such moments to forget all the 
canons of news. Long after all semblance of news had been 
exhausted in the Berlin-Mackay wedding case, the newspapers 
talked about it. Some even solicited letters (to be printed in the 
news columns, not on the editorial page) in reply to the ques 
tion: "Would you do what Ellin Mackay did?" Reams of asinine 
stuff were elicited in this way. The story had been squeezed 
dry long before the Berlins set out for Europe; but they were 
spied upon by reporters at every turn on deck, followed in 
London, then to the Madeira Islands, when they fled to escape 
the reporters and photographers, then on their return to this 
country and after the birth of their child. 


The real interest in the story was its fictional quality: the 
romance of bridging a social gap conventionally supposed to be 
impassible. The fact that the bridegroom's name appeared in 
the Social Register caused a journalistic convulsion. Many 
newspaper men will say, I suppose, that the prominence of these 
two in their separate spheres was enough to account for the 
space given to their marriage. I think that the story's kinship 
with the prince-and-peasant romances of the newsstand magazines 
had much to do with it; and that this phase of "human interest" 
is largely responsible for the invasion of personal privacy. 

Lest any doubt remain as to the high regard in which news 
paper men, themselves incorrigibly romantic, hold romance, let 
me quote a banner line across the top of a New York paper of 
December 1, 1926: "Grocer Boy Weds Fifi Tomorrow, Proving 
Dreams Come True." (I have italicized the enacting clause.) 
The man here referred to is not a grocer boy, and never has 
been, but to say so gave the truly fictional touch to the headline. 
On the next day, at the top of the first page of another New York 
paper was this headline: "Princess and the Cadet: A Fairy Story 
from Life." The story underneath told of a meeting between 
the Princess Ileana of Rumania with a "Prince Charming" at 
West Point. It was printed after the royal party had left this 
country, when popular curiosity about its members had been 
satiated. Of the cadet nobody except his family and his class 
mates had ever heard. Was it news? Judge for yourself. 
On the following day a third paper, which was beaten on the 
initial publication, rehashed the latter story and adorned it with 
a picture of the "Prince Charming," two columns wide and nine 
inches deep, including this snappy caption: "The Cadet Who 
Lunched with a Princess." 

There was no privilege for the emphasis given to this incident, 
nor for the implications involved in the emphasis. There was no 
justification for the story, even had it become known while the 
Princess was a figure in the public eye. When there is a privilege 
of publication it is clear enough to most newspaper men, and they 
recognize its absence. Privileged news is often made the 
entering wedge for the publication of details so private and 
personal that they should not be printed. Once the wedge has 

VOL. ccxxiv. NO. 836 26 


entered, it does not appear that the question of news is considered. 
Was the fee which Millicent Rogers paid a ukulele player his 
usual fee a matter of news merely because she had married 
and left Count Salm? Merely because the two had met and 
parted, was it a matter of news that the Count happened to take 
the same hotel elevator in Paris as the mistress of Prince Carol? 
Apparently. The ukulele player's fee was announced in the 
press, and we were informed that the two in the chance elevator 
encounter " exchanged mutually respectful glances." 

Gerald Chapman, a gunman and murderer of whom the news 
papers made a hero as a "super-criminal," concealed his family 
connections. One of his brothers is a New York man and an 
employe of the city government. He has five children, living in 
a suburb; and he has a sister. Reporters for two New York 
papers, after days of hard work, learned the identity of these 
kinsfolk and reported triumphantly to their city editors. This 
was news of high value, as the press values news nowadays; but 
the editors of both these newspapers decided that publication 
would merely inflict unmerited ignominy upon innocent persons, 
and refused to permit it. An honorable instance of conscience 
in journalism! All will acclaim it. How different the behavior 
of these same newspapers in the case of Leonard Kip Rhinelander, 
when both papers dragged his entire family into the spotlight, 
even to remote ancestors. 

Newspaper publications are not so ephemeral as some of us 
may fancy. Arnold Bennett, on his first visit to the United 
States, compared our reporters with our dentists, in their skill 
and speed. The simile was apt, but it would have been apter had 
the comparison been with "painless" dentistry, which usually 
leaves an abscess. The first splurge of publicity seldom ends the 
thing. Ever so slight a jar may shake it all loose again; and 
newspaper men are commonly of the opinion that they are 
warranted in raking up from their files anything which has been 
printed, whenever they please. How slight a vibration serves 
to send ripples in ever-widening circles is illustrated by a pub 
lication in a leading New York paper. 

At the Ritz in Paris, between the men's bar and the women's, 
there is a small room which is a rendezvous for a certain set. 


One day the correspondent of the New York paper stationed 
himself there, to make notes for a smart yarn about Me in the 
capital. At the door appeared the figure of "a well-groomed 
man, his hair tinged with gray." This fleeting appearance would 
never have been recorded if the journalist had not been informed 
that the well-groomed man was a brother of the Rev. Dr. Percy 
Stickney Grant's former fiancee. This engagement had figured 
largely in the news columns, a part of the time with no privilege 
of publication; it had been broken, and the clergyman, while in 
a hospital, had been libeled by stories about him and a servant 
he had befriended. The press regarded the clergyman as fair 
game; so that the mere fortuitous appearance of a man at a 
doorway three thousand miles away set up a reverberation of the 
stories about him. 

Anyone who reads newspapers can see for himself instances of 
the gross invasion of privacy. They need not be multiplied here. 
Seldom are they resented in the courts. A newspaper in Jeffer 
son City, Mo., has been enjoined from publishing the names of 
persons for whom whiskey prescriptions were issued; and oc 
casionally there are suits for libel or damages, about which the 
newspapers themselves maintain a conspiracy of silence; but on 
the whole there is either contemptuous inaction, or a naive awe 
of the Power of the Press. 

A rich real estate dealer of New York notified the newspapers 
when he adopted a young woman. He likes notoriety. He had 
learned, from a previous adoption, that the press doted on 
Cinderella stories, which have the fictional "escape" attribute. 
He knew, however, that the girl's parents would shrink from 
publicity, and he refused to give the reporters their name or 
address. The resourceful press was not at loss. The reporters 
ferreted out the humble home, described it in detail, even to the 
pictures on the walls, and asked the mother how she felt about 
the adoption. "My feelings," she said (and was so quoted 
unblushingly in our most eminent daily paragons of respecta 
bility), "are not for the world." Of course they were for The 
World; also for The Times, Herald Tribune, Daily Mirror and 
hundreds of other papers. Despite the deep personal dignity of 
that reply, it was reported, and so were the mother's symptoms 


of distress. It so happened that the adopted girl was not sixteen, 
as she had pretended, but twenty-one; city officials began an 
investigation, and she tried to kill herself. Her parents were 
especially anxious that no word of all this should reach another 
daughter, who was grievously ill in Denver. But the press has 
a long arm, and it has devoted servants. The whole story was 
told to the tuberculous girl, by an interviewer, and a short time 
later she died. Perhaps she could not have lived; this is not 
to charge the newspapers with any part in her death; but un 
doubtedly her going would have been easier had she not been 
distressed, in order to give the press another " human interest" 
thrill, by the story of her sister's disgrace. 

All reporters knew, of course, that if we did not deliver the 
goods we would be considered by our superiors about as useful 
as last year's calendar. My trial assignment in St. Louis was 
based on a four-line item in a morning newspaper, telling of a 
driver who had destroyed himself with carbolic acid. 

"In a home like that," said the City Editor, "there is always a 
good human interest story. See if you can get it." 

A girl in her teens answered the doorbell. She did not want 
to talk to me, but she was too polite, or too broken by grief, to 
close the door in my face. After a few minutes, obeying some 
obscure impulse it was the last time I was ever to obey such an 
impulse, which is the main reason for setting it down here I 
let her go. I did not have the story I had been sent for, so I faked 
one. I said the father stifled his screams of agony, lest 
he wake his children. Hospital internes had told me that 
death from carbolic, after the first brief burning as the stuff 
passes over the tongue, is practically painless. But I relied on 
ignorance of this in the office, and my confidence was justified. 
The story made the first page ; my place on the payroll was assured. 

There is a sort of pride in accomplishing the invasion, on 
behalf of the Great God News, of another's privacy. Cornelius 
Vanderbilt, Jr., has told with gusto how he climbed a hotel fire 
escape to enter Dunsany's room unannounced, when the writer 
was trying to escape reporters; how he got aboard Secretary 
Daniels's boat in the guise of a porter; how he shadowed a man 
suspected by his paper of having separated from his wife; and 


how he sneaked into a millionaire's Long Island estate to peep 
through a window. This callousness, or pride, is stimulated by 
the reporter's superiors in order to keep him fit for the game. 

I have dealt here, not with the tabloid picture papers (to 
make a case against them would b,too easy to be worth our time) 
but with the standard-sized, respectable, substantial press. A 
single quotation of a headline from a tabloid was to illustrate 
a type of news rather than an invasion of privacy. I charge 
that our most pious journals (with a very few exceptions of 
comparatively small circulation) exploit for revenue only the 
personal affairs of the people in this country. 

Marie of Rumania, herself not averse to publicity, one gathers, 
observed on her departure from this country that "there seems 
no privacy in your American lives; everything anybody does is 
pried into. It is strange that you who are so busy living have 
time for this extraordinary interest in others." The implication 
here was that newspapers invade privacy because of an over 
whelming public demand for it. Even an overwhelming demand 
could not justify the deliberate contempt for law shown daily 
by our press; but, leaving that aside, are we really so nosy as 
Marie seems to think? Or is it true that the newspapers stimu 
late an appetite which grows by what it feeds on? If the world 
around us were competently reported, the account might prove 
quite as fascinating as a scandal. The news conventions built 
upon the penny-shocker present a caricature of the world. 
The fictionizing of news, which began with the elder Bennett 
(and I am using the phrase not to indicate faking, but to describe 
a process of selection and presentation), has an invariable con 
comitant, the invasion of privacy. In itself it is a confession of 
impotence. It is an admission that the newspaper is unable to 
make itself interesting in its legitimate field. Circulation is 
more important than the right of castle. Salacity and intimate 
trivialities are the condiments with which an indifferent cook 
spices our daily broth. 


COPIOUS notes from the War Diary of Edmond Charles Clinton 
Genet, great-great-grandson of Citizen Genet and of the daugh 
ter of Governor George Clinton, covering the period of his serv 
ice in the Foreign Legion, were printed in the preceding number 
of THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW. They ended with his trans 
fer from the Legion to the Aviation Corps. The second and con 
cluding instalment, herewith presented, tells of his service in the 
Escadrille, from his first flight to his death in battle. These 
notes, like the former, have been transcribed from the original 
Diaries, for THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW, by Grace Ellery 


At Reserve Camp of Aviation (G. D. E.), Plessis. 

Belleville, France, December 31, 1916. 

(Waiting to be sent out to join our American Escadrille on the front.) 

Stephen Bigelow and Edwin (Ted) Parsons are here with me for the same 
purpose. Went out for forty minutes in a 110 h.p. Baby Nieuport. Found 
the wind bad but enjoyed the flight. 

January 3, 1917. 

The 15 metre Nieuport, with a 110 h.p. Rhdne motor, is the machine in use 
at the front. I don't care for it as well as I do for the 13 metre "Baby", and 
it isn't so supple and quickly manoeuvred; but the "Baby" has been supprimee 
from active service at the front and replaced entirely by the 15 metre machine. 

Came up to Paris with Parsons and Bigelow early in P.M. Percy Noel, a 
young journalist in The Chicago Daily News office in Paris, brought Bigelow 
out in his Ford to fly and took us all back. Had a blow-out on the way. 
Came up in tune to have dinner with the Major (Parker) and his wife and the 
two youngsters. Spent the evening with him in fixing up my notes and 
chatted aviation. 

January 6. 

Bigelow and Parsons back from Paris. We all had instructions from 
a mechanic how to run and regulate the 150 h.p. Hispano-Suiza stationary 
motor in the Spad biplane dechasse. We all want to make a flight in it be 
fore we leave here, as it is a machine coming widely and enthusiastically into 


use by pilotes de combat on the front, and we may have one ourselves there in 
time. It is much faster than the Nieuport. Parsons and I may get out to the 
front within a week. I don't like the continual waiting around this boresome 

January 8. 

Today completes my two years' absence from the Navy, and under the laws 
I am not liable to detention should I return to the States, but I have lost my 
citizenship and can only be reinstated by a direct pardon from the President. 
For the present I'm practically a man without a country. God grant I can 
secure a pardon when I go back! ... I'd like to see England, particularly 
London. I certainly must go there before I go back. . . . I'm feeling terribly 
blue over the future. It looks pretty dark and uncertain. 

January 10. 

Found out that we three Americans will be disponible beginning with to 
morrow, and consequently will be at liberty to be sent to the front as soon as 
orders for us arrive. That is good news. Parsons and Bigelow are in Paris so 
I'll have to get word to them somehow. 

January 11. 

List of disponibles posted today, and we three are on it. 

January 15. 

Fair today. Flew a good deal this afternoon, although low clouds kept me 
at 250 metres altitude. Rather enjoyed the flying more than usual. 

January 16. 

Arranged to go on mission to the front to bring back a discarded Nieuport 
from Escadrille N-37 at Cachy, Somme, near Amiens. Four French pilots 
are with me on the same sort of job. We don't have to hurry, so all came in 
to Paris and will leave here Thursday morning for Amiens. Meanwhile I'm 
staying at the Roosevelt with the Parkers. 

January 17. 

Snowed all day. . . . Did some errands down town. Went in to see Mr. 
Hedin at his office (Brooklyn Eagle} and he took me and a friend to the monthly 
luncheon of the Associated American, British and French Press, given at the 
Cafe de Paris. It so happened that I was the only one there with a uniform, 
all the rest being journalists, so I was called upon to make a speech. The 
Chairman introduced me as the great-great-grandson of Citizen Genet, and an 
American Volunteer Aviator. I felt a trifle nervous, it being my first real 
speech in public, but I made good, at least Hedin and the rest said I did, so 
I feel satisfied. I didn't say much, only that I was mighty glad to be over 
here doing my -bit, for being with them today, and a few other remarks, and 
sat down amid acclamations from all. The luncheon was excellent in every 
way. It should be, at the Cafe de Paris; it's the swellest and most expensive 
restaurant in Paris. 

January 18. 

No way of getting to Cachy except by train this afternoon, so we had to 


wait around in Amiens in the rain until then. As we got to Villers-Bretonneau 
at six in pitch dark and heaps of mud we all decided not to try to walk on to 
Cachy, so hunted up rooms. Succeeded in getting a military requisition from 
the Commandant and am quite comfortable for the night at absolutely no ex 
pense to myself. Room in the house of kind old motherly French woman, and 
she has done lots to make me comfortable, even to placing a large flask of hot 
water in the huge bed to keep my feet warm. We all had supper of eggs and 
bread, butter and wine. 

By a very strange coincidence, this village is the very one in which I was bil 
leted with the Legion when I first arrived at the front in the latter part of 
March, 1915, from Lyons. How vividly it all comes back to me now! Saw 
many English troops in Amiens. It is their southern base. They hold all the 
sectors to the north of the Somme. Amiens certainly is a mighty busy centre. 

January 19. 

Walked to the aviation camp. Reported to the Commandant and the 37th 
Escadrille, and was told that orders had been 'phoned for me not to bring back 
the machine but to return by train at once, as orders have come there for me 
(and Bigelow and Parsons as well) to leave for the front to join the Escadrille. 
Saw Captain Thienault, of our Escadrille, and all the rest of the fellows, having 
luncheon with them, and the Captain has simply held me here, attached me to 
the Escadrille, and sent word to G. D. E. at Plessis. Feel mighty glad to be 
here with the fellows at last. 

The entire group (the thirteenth Groupe de Combat) leaves here on Sunday 
or Monday to go down beside St. Just, to have a sector along the front further 
south than the present one, which is south of Peronne and the Somme River. 
Went into Amiens in the escadrille auto, with the Captain and four of the 
fellows. Came back in time for dinner. Lieutenant de Laage is on leave at 
present so I am to use his room. Meals here are splendid, the service is excel 
lent, and everyone seems to be in unison, from the Captain down to the last of 
us. It's fine. 

January 20. 

Four of the fellows went to Paris by order of the Minister of War, for a cele 
bration at the Theatre Franchise for the Americans killed during the war who 
were serving France. . . . There is yet no machine for me, but I may use 
Hill's for the present because he and Robert Rockwell are on leave in America. 

January 21. 

Some English and Canadian officers of the Royal Flying Corps flew over 
from their camp for luncheon and spent part of the afternoon. 

The famous Escadrille N-3, to which Guynemer and Dorme belong, is next 
to us in this same groupe. They are to leave us when we go to St. Just and go 
over beside Nancy. Watched Guynemer do tricks over the field this after 
noon with his 200 h.p. Spad. He sure is "some boy". Up to date he has 
twenty-five Boche machines down to his credit. Dorme has nineteen to date. 
Our own "ace", Lufberry, has six. 


January 23. 

Lovely clear day. Signed up to leave for good at the G. D. E., Plessis, 
Belleville, this morning, and packed and shipped off my bag of clothes to St. 
Just. Took train back to Paris. Went around to see Dr. Gros this afternoon 
and met Chatkoff there. He is here on leave from the Legion and trying to 
return to the Aviation Corps again. Went over to see Paul Rockwell and his 
bride. Chatkoff, Zenis and a young French filleul of Mrs. Rockwell were 
there and Paul took us all out to dinner and afterwards we all went to the re 
view at the "Olympia" and saw a very good show there a better one than 
usual. Mighty glad to find Paul so well and happy in his new life. 

His wife, the daughter of a very wealthy and well-known Frenchman here 
in Paris, is attractive and pleasant, and seems very jolly and unassuming. 

January 26. 

Escadrille came down from Cachy, the fellows flying down in less than half 
an hour. Our barracks are not yet completed so we are forced to sleep and 
live in an underground covered trench, but I'm going to try a corner of one of 
the barracks with plenty of hay and coverings tonight. I've been in much 
worse places with the Legion. 

January 27. 

We all worked most of the day in arranging the interior of our barracks. 
It's fairly comfortable and warm, as we keep stoves going and blankets over 
the two doors. Lieutenant de Laage assigned me Thaw's Nieuport to use for 
myself as Thaw has gone to Paris to get a Spad. I'm quite pleased with the 
machine; it's not new, but in good condition. Am to make my first flight over 
the enemy lines tomorrow. 

January 29. 

Made my first flight over the lines. Went out with Johnson and was out 
nearly two hours. We didn't sight any enemy machines, but were shelled 
while up by the Somme. Our sector runs from Roye south to Ribecourt, 
which is northeast of Compiegne. I've been in the trenches south of Roye at 
Tilloloy and between Ribecourt and Lassigny with the Legion, so this section 
is not very unfamiliar to me. Today we flew almost to Peronne. Went 
out alone this afternoon but was forced to make an early return as my ma 
chine-gun got blocked when I tried it out over the lines. It doesn't pay one 
little bit to be flying on the front with a gun which can't shoot. 

January 30. 

We all set to work to try and complete the living room of our barrack, mak 
ing it cold-proof and comfortable. We're putting an inner wall of boards 
covered with huge strips of light brown corrugated cardboard, with the smooth 
surface to view. I've agreed to decorate the cardboard with scenes of aerial 
combat between French and German machines, etc. 

February 13. 

Made a two hours' flight voluntarily. Saw no German machines but got 
jolly well lonely and tired while looking for them. Flights alone over the 


lines are mighty lonesome trips anyway. One feels as a star must feel, alone 
way off in space. 

February 15. 

Superb day. Out along our lines from 8.30 to 10.30 this morning with 
Hoskier and Parsons, and we all had several hot, close combats with two 
German biplanes directly over Roye. Had a fight with each of them in turn, 
being attacked by one as I was driving the other down to earth. Had to 
leave off chasing the first to turn and attack the second, which I forced to quit 
and dive for safety at 400 metres over Roye, and several batteries of anti-air 
craft guns which quickly opened up a furious fire at me. I think I killed the 
gunner of the second. Hoskier and Parsons each had similar combats with no 
better success. The Commandant praised us for our attempts. . . . Aerial 
combats certainly are exciting, and soon over. They try one's nerves to the 
limit, but there is very little, if any, time to think of danger to one's self. 

February 16. 

The United States has not yet declared war, but it may come any day. 
Hoskier, Parsons and I have our names in the official report of the Groupe to 
day, for our combats yesterday. It all helps. 

February 17. 

Received a letter from Dr. Gros today in reply to mine. He writes that he 
likes my attitude towards France, but thinks that I possess no true patriotism 
for my own country. It was really not his fault about that article, the blamed 
reporter made it up out of his head from a few things of no consequence which 
Dr.* Gros said. Have written trying to correct his poor judgment of my pa 
triotism. I can't help but like Dr. Gros immensely. He is mighty sincere in 
his efforts for the Escadrille. 

February 18. 

We are going to have very active service before long, or I'm a mighty poor 
guesser. I'm enjoying hugely the piano we have here and play on it often, as 
does Steve Bigelow also. The Captain trying to play every day nearly drives 
us wild. 

February 19. 

Escadrille on repose for day. Lieut, de Laage back from leave and " Bill " 
Thaw came back from Paris with our young rascally mascot lion cub "Whis 
key ", whom he took in to have his blind eye treated. 

February 22. 

Rainy day. Presentation of decorations this morning. Went into St. 
Just with Thaw afterwards. Thaw, Haviland, Soubiran, Parsons and myself 
motored up to see the Foreign Legion at and near Faverolles, particularly to 
see the Americans there, and took along a lot of good liquor and cigarettes for 
them. We had a hard hunt to locate any of the regiment at all and saw none 
of the Americans. Finding the 9th Company, I found Estes there and we sure 
were delighted to see each other again. He looks pretty well but says they 
are being worked as strenuously as ever. They've been in the trenches 


around Tilloloy. It is very greatly changed now, Estes says, and the beauti 
ful chateau has been nearly totally destroyed by shells. Saw several of my 
old comrades. My old Company Four is now the Second, 1st Battalion. On 
the way back we picked up fifteen empty 75 shells as souvenirs. 

February 25. 

Too foggy to permit flying and the ground too soft and muddy for a ma 
chine to roll on. Wanted to get in a couple of hours flying, but Captain 
wouldn't allow me to try to take my machine out. Walked into St. Just with 
Ted Parsons. It seems a mighty difficult and quite impossible proposition to 
keep entirely away from drink with this Escadrille. If one goes into town any 
day with any of the fellows, it's impossible to keep from going in and drinking, 
without absolutely being discourteous and uncomradely. Perhaps I'm a fool, 
but I don't like it one bit. 

February 26. 

Report came last night that Germans have retreated to their fourth line 
position along this front, known as the Hindenburg Line, passing north and 
south just west of St. Quentin. We were to go out to verify it, but couldn't 
leave the ground on account of the thick mud. 

February 28. 

A British Cunard liner was torpedoed and sunk by a German U-boat yester 
day and two more American lives were lost. The United States doesn't seem 
to be taking the slightest action about it. The Rochester and Orleans have 
arrived at Bordeaux safely after passing the blockade zone of the Boche sub 
marines, but that certainly doesn't prove that the damned Boches are not ly 
ing in wait for other American vessels which they will torpedo without any 

March 1. 

A Boche machine was signalled well over our lines early this afternoon and 
I started out quickly with three others, but was too anxious and did not take 
sufficient care about the direction of the wind. I went out with it too much 
on one side and it got beneath my wing and before I could cut off my motor it 
had turned me over. Didn't get hurt myself but the poor machine got pretty 
badly smashed. Am feeling blue over the rotten luck, as it was an excellent 
machine with a nearly new motor, and now I am without one of my own. 

Our "ace", Raoul Luf berry, was decorated this afternoon with the Cross of 
the Legion of Honor, and we had a feast this evening with Commandant 
Facon as our guest. The Commandant entertained us after dinner with ex 
cellent music on the piano. He plays by ear extremely well. 

March 3. 

Decorated a soixante-quinze shell for Soubiran. Went out with Thaw and 
some of the others to visit the Legion where it is in repose in several small vil 
lages. Saw quite a number of the Americans, among whom were Casey and 
Trincard, the latter on his way to Dijon to enter the Aviation Corps. 

We carried out two good bottles of whiskey and it certainly made a speedy 


disappearance down the gullets of the legionnaires. This being pay day, we 
found a very large majority of them gloriously drunk and consequently feeling 
very happy. " Whiskey " accompanied us in the car and made quite an im 
pression upon the Ugionnaires. One old drunken one got his nasal organ 
nicely scratched for being too friendly with our lion. 

Letters from dear little mother and Rivers. Rivers has been appointed an 
Ensign in the 8th Division of the New York State Naval Militia, which makes 
me feel decidedly glad and mighty proud of him. 

March 4. 

' Very misty all day. Went off alone at seven this morning and flew over to 
the German lines to Ham, St. Quentin, Guiscard and south to Soissons. At 4000 
metres. Got completely lost in heavy mist around Soissons, and went all the 
way northwest to the aviation station at Le Bourget beside Paris before dis 
covering where I was. Had to land to refill my tanks and then started back to 
the lines again. Flew north to Peronne and saw some of the fighting along the 
English front, but got lost again and had to land at an English aviation field to 
find out where I was. I was some distance north of Amiens, so followed the 
routes south, but got out of gasoline when I got as far as Mondidier, so landed 
on the field of Escadrille N-79 to get my tanks refilled. It was noon then, so I 
had luncheon there and 'phoned my plight to the Escadrille. Returned to our 
field, getting here at 2 o'clock. Did nearly 450 kilometres in the air today in 
about four and a half hours, heavy mist to balk me all the time. Claude and 
Moyot came over from the Legion and had dinner with us. Thaw and I took 
them back to cantonnementm the auto, late. The ride in the cool night air has 
done me good. This has been a very strenuous day. 

March 6. 

Went out with Johnson and Bigelow. Johnson forced to return on account 
of motor-trouble and Bigelow went in at 12.30. I stayed out so as to help 
along my flying-time, to get twenty hours, so I can be proposed for the grade of 
sous-officier of the Tenth. Have gotten my nose and part of one cheek frost 
bitten: now the skin is peeling off and making it quite raw. Mighty uncom 
fortable and my face is a sight. 

March 9. 

Went out with Willis for flight over lines. Lovell came out a little later. 
We were heavily bombarded, the shells breaking extremely close. I could 
hear the loud explosion very plainly and did some fast turning to distract the 
aim. Lost Willis in the heavy mists at 2800 metres. Got caught in a heavy 
snow flurry, so came back after trying to find Willis. Willis and Lovell came 
in directly after. 

Paris, March 11. 

President Wilson at last issued the order for the arming and guarding of 
American merchantmen yesterday. It's about tune he sat up and did some 
active work. 


Paris, March 12. 

Wilson not only has given the order for all United States vessels to go armed 
for defense, but to fire without warning upon any submarines seen. Which is 
only fair, considering that the U-boats do the same. Major Parker thinks war 
is a sure thing very soon. Should we be called by our country, in case of war, 
to become instructors in the United States aviation schools, he says it would be 
wisest to accept. We'd be needed in that capacity without any doubt. I'd 
rather stay and do my bit in active service on this front. Bagdad has been 
captured by the British forces. 

March 14. 

Painted a distinguishing mark on my aeroplane. Put on the Tricolor in 
broad chevron stripes, and a large white star in the centre of the topside of the 
fuselage. We all have the Escadrille insignia on each side of our machines, the 
head of an Indian chief, but each one has in addition a particular distinguish 
ing mark so we can tell each other when we meet or pass in the air. It's a 
good plan. All permissions were called off today for an indefinite period. It 
means we shall have plenty of active service from now on, and more than likely 
a heavy offensive very soon. Glad I got to Paris this last time before this hap 
pened. Guns are hammering out along the lines. The flashes of their dis 
charges are incessant tonight. 

March 16. 

China has severed diplomatic relations with Germany and seized German 
ships in her ports. Big attack is in preparation along this part of the front and 
troops and supply wagons are passing towards the lines by every route day 
after day now. Order given by Commandant Facon this morning, for one pi 
lot of each patrol going out to attack and destroy an enemy drachen with incen 
diary bullets, while the other three with him act as a protection against hostile 
avions. Volunteered to Captain Thienault at once to be the one in my patrol 
to attack and he granted me that job. It won't be easy, as the German 
drachens are low, well protected by guns and avions, and very hard to see on 
account of this excellent disguise. They are well worth trying for, though, and 
I feel willing 

Went out this afternoon, with Soubiran, MacConnell, Lovell and Willis as my 
guard, to attack drachens inside the German lines east of Roye. Found no 
drachens and no German machines. Went as far as Noyon and Guiscard and 
was called down by the rest with me for doing it, but Capt. Thienault said I did 
right, so I should worry about the opinion of the others. An English pilot, 
Lieut. Sheridan, landed on our field because of being lost. We took care of him 
here for the night. Very pleasant chap. Attack by First and Third Armies 
last night and today has resulted in an advance of about four kilometres. 

March 17. 

St. Patrick's Day and first anniversary of our Escadrille. Bapaiune was 
taken by the British forces today. 


Word came that a Zeppelin had passed Mondidier going west, so, having in 
cendiary bullets in my machine, I went out with the patrol, but didn't see the 
Zeppelin because it had already been brought down in flames south of Com- 
piegne by aerial cannon. This is beginning to be a strenuous and exciting life 
here, chasing drachens one day and Zeppelins the next. The French took a lot 
of ground along this sector this morning. The big offensive has begun all 

Lots of troops are billeted around here now, waiting as reserve forces. The 
Third Regiment of Zouaves is in St. Just. With my khaki uniform something 
like theirs, and my fourragere and service stripes, they look at me and wonder 
who I am. They must know I've been in the Moroccan Division. It seems 
like old times to see them around. The Legion is either in the trenches or else 
further north in repose. 

March 18. 

Went out with our first patrol to look for drachens and to reconnoitre. Mac- 
Connell, Soubiran, Bigelow and myself. French forces advanced this morning, 
taking Noyon, Nesle and all the country between. Hoskier, Lovell, Willis and 
myself went out on a volunteer reconnoitering trip this afternoon over the new 
territory gained by the French today. Very interesting trip north of Nesle to 
the present German positions and east along the region of Guiscard which is 
still in their hands. Region is all flooded around Noyon and the whole terri 
tory is burned and torn up by the retiring Germans, and they are destroying 
all the villages, but are amassing troops at St. Quentin for probable heavy 
counter-offensive very soon. When we went out and came in we had an enor 
mous audience of "poilus" and civilians from St. Just. Seemed more like the 
Garden City airdrome than here on the front. Russia has formed a new and 
better government. 

The French Deputies have resigned. Two Zeppelins were reported brought 
down in England yesterday. Capt. Guynemer brought three German avions 
down on French territory yesterday near Nancy. Thaw and Lieut, de Laage 
back, also "Soda", our lioness for "Whiskey". 

March 19. 

MacConnell, Parsons and I went out for Third Patrol at 9 o'clock to pro 
tect French reconnaissance around Ham. Parsons had to return on account 
of motor trouble. "Mac" and I kept on, he leading. We patrolled around 
Ham over the French avions until about 10 o'clock. Then Mac headed north 
towards St. Quentin and I followed to the rear and above him. North of Ham 
I discovered two German machines, much higher than we, coming towards us 
to attack. One was much nearer than the other and began to come toward 
Mac. I immediately started up towards it and met it at 2200 metres, leaving 
Mac to take care of the second. The German avion was a biplane and his gun 
ners opened fire on me at 200 yards as the pilot began to circle about me. I 
opened fire with my incendiary bullets and headed directly for them. The 


Germans' first few shots cut one main wing-support in half and an explosive 
bullet hit the guiding rod of the left aileron and cut open a nice hole in my left 
cheek. I scarcely noticed it and kept on firing until we were scarcely 25 yards 
apart. We passed close and I peaked down. The German didn't follow, but 
an anti-aircraft battery shelled me for quite a while. At 1000 metres I 
stopped and circled around for fifteen minutes in search of Mac and the second 
Boche, but the clouds were thick and I saw nothing. I was afraid my support 
would break entirely and my wound was hurting, so I headed for St. Just at a 
low altitude, reaching there at 10.45, hoping all the way back that Mac had 
preceded me, but when I arrived I found he had not, and though Lufberry and 
Lieut, de Laage have been out over the region north of Ham with their Spads 
this afternoon to look for him, (de Laage also landed and asked the troops if 
they had seen him brought down,) they found nothing, and the chances are Mac 
was either brought down by the German machine or else wounded in combat 
and forced to land in their territory and so is a prisoner. It's the best we can 
hope for, that he is at least alive. I feel dreadfully. My wound, though a bit 
painful, is nothing compared with my grief for poor Mac's loss. The Comman 
dant told me, when I described the combat to him, that I fought bravely. I 
wish I had been able to do more for MacConneil. 

The French and English forces are advancing beyond Nesle, Ham and Noyon 
with few losses. Perhaps tomorrow will bring better news of poor Mac, if the 
advance continues. British troops have taken Peronne and the French have 
gained the heights north of Soissons. The enemy is retreating to the Hinden- 
burg Line. Thaw landed beside Nesle this morning to give information to the 
British cavalry patrol and had lunch with a French woman and her daughter 
who have been thirty-one months behind German lines. The civilians left by 
the Germans in the recaptured towns are wild with joy at being again with 
their own people. The German troops before retreating have torn up all roads, 
railroads, cut down all trees, flooded a lot of land, fired all important buildings 
in every town, insulted the women, carrying off many of the younger women 
and old men with them, and destroying all stores they couldn't carry with 
them. They are fiends, if ever there were any. All the territory at present in 
their hands towards St. Quentin is in flames. It's horrible to see. German 
submarines have torpedoed three more vessels carrying the American flag. 
Now will any action be taken? 

My machine has been repaired this afternoon and my wound (dressed to 
day) is scarcely grave enough to bother over. I hope I shall be out on service 
again tomorrow. Thank God I escaped so luckily today, but I do wish I had 
brought down that damned Boche machine and that poor MacConneil was 
safely back with us tonight. If he was killed, I know he met his end bravely 
fighting. God grant he isn't dead ! 

March 20. 

Dear Dad's birthday. We've been hoping and waiting all day for news of 
poor MacConneil but no word has come, and it seems certain he met his fate 


at the hands of those damned Huns and within their lines. I feel horribly de 
pressed over it. If only I had been able to get to him and save him ! 

Sent the news to Major Parker today and Lovell wrote to Paul Rockwell. 
Poor Paul will feel dreadfully over it. 

French and British advance continued today. I go out on first patrol to 
morrow. Asked Lieut, de Laage and he put me on it. I'm out in grim earnest 
now to avenge poor MacConnell. 

March 21. 

I wish I could do something really worth while for the English and thus get 
them willing to give me the English Military Cross. Capt. Thienault today 
proposed me for a citation a Vordre d'armee, which will bring me the Croix de 
Guerre with a palm. Poor MacConnell is proposed also for a citation. No 
news of any sort of him today. 

March 22. 

Went out with de Laage, Lovell and Willis. Very cold, and machine gun got 
jammed so I came back. Volunteered to go out with patrol at 11.30. Patrol 
consists of two Spads (the Captain and Hoskier) and five Nieuports. On ac 
count of heavy clouds we got pretty well separated. My oil-clutch began to 
freeze at 3000 metres where the cold was very severe, and I went down over Ham 
alone; came back through snow and sleet. Haviland and Hinkle forced to 
land near Compiegne, Bigelow back before me, Hoskier landed at Mondidier 
because of motor-trouble, Parsons at an English aviation field, and the Cap 
tain had to land east of Amiens, on account of motor trouble. 

March 23. 

Report came from regiment of French cavalry that they saw the fight Mac 
Connell and I had on Monday, and that Mac, instead of being attacked by one 
Boche machine, was attacked by two, and was brought down towards St. 
Quentin, and the chances are nine to one that he is dead and not a prisoner. 
Had I seen all three enemy machines, I certainly would have stayed close 
beside Mac and not gone up to attack the nearest, but I saw only two and 
both were coming down toward Mac. The third must have been further back 
and hidden in the heavy mist. 

All America seems bent on declaring war on Germany very soon. President 
Wilson has called Congress to session at an early date. United States troops 
may be sent over to fight on French or Belgian soil and United States warships 
will probably have a naval base in one or more of the Allied ports here. 

March 24. 

News came in this morning that a group of French cavalry found yesterday, 
at Bois PAbbe, a badly smashed Nieuport with the body of MacConnell inside, 
dead about three days, with no papers on him and a number of bullet wounds. 
The Germans evidently only searched his body for papers and then left him 
unburied. Bois PAbbe was just back of the German lines. 

March 25. 
Left patrol when the rest headed back and went to Bois PAbbe to find Mac's 


machine completely wrecked in a tiny orchard just on the southern edge of 
town. Circled over it and saw lots of French soldiers gathered around it. 
Mac certainly must have been killed in the air, for he would never have at 
tempted to make a landing in that small field. Captain went over today to see 
about Mac's body, and found he had been terribly mangled with the wreckage, 
his papers, boots, cap and flying-suit taken by the Boches, and his body left 
unburied beside the machine. He will be buried tomorrow in a coffin, and 
placed in a grave beside the road where he fell. All honor to gallant Mac! 

March 26. 

The Boches are even carrying cocardes now with the outside circle red like 
the French, but a black centre in place of a blue one, so there is going to be 
heaps of trouble in chasing after the right machines and looking out for those 
which look friendly but aren't. We are to move over to an old German avia 
tion field in a few days. This will be better than here though we'll be in plenty 
of danger from bombardment. We are much too far from the lines here. It 
takes too much time to fly over and back. 

March 28. 

I'm mighty well disgusted with two of the fellows here. Neither of them 
seems to be a very enthusiastic fighter, and they take every opportunity to 
remain at camp on pretense of being sick or tired, and the rest of us break our 
necks to keep up the good service of the Escadrille. These two, I'm certain, 
will see the finish of the war, return to America, and pose as the heroes of the 
Escadrille, and be received as such by everyone who won't know the difference. 

The French are attacking south of St. Quentin this afternoon. We can hear 
the heavy guns pounding. No special news from America today, but war 
preparations are going on at full speed. Cuba may follow the United States. 
. . . The Boches bombarded Rheims with no less than 395 heavy-calibre 
shells yesterday. 

March 29. 

"Doc" Rockwell arrived this morning from his furlough in America. He 
has brought a couple of fine American-made fruitcakes and we rapidly con 
sumed one of them today. It was good. Indefinite reports that America 
will send an army of at least 10,000 men to fight in France in the event of war. 
The United States is planning a big loan of money to France also. Two new 
branches of the Presidential Cabinet are being formed, a Secretary of Muni 
tions and a Secretary of Aviation. 

Paris, April 2. 

Went with the Parkers to attend the memorial service at the American 
Church, in memory of MacConnell. Bishop Brent was rather good, but the 
service as a whole was too long and badly arranged. Also the vast array 
of American Ambulance Corps fellows taken there by Dr. Gros (Mac was in 
the Corps at first) was entirely too much of an eyesore to us all, and would have 
been to Mac himself had he been there to see them. Spoke to Dr. Gros and 
VOL. ccxxiv. NO. 836 27 


Mr. Slade. Ambassador Sharp and a representative of President Poincare 
were there. The Church was crowded with Americans. Perhaps there will 
be such a service held for me soon. If so, I pray the American Ambulance 
Service will fail to be represented. 

April 3. 

Major Parker thinks he will take up my Navy case at once with Major 
Logan, and perhaps the Ambassador, and also the French War Department, 
to get it to officially request the United States Government to reinstate me 
honorably in its service, on the ground of my good services here. 

April 4. 

President Wilson officially asked Congress yesterday to open hostilities 
against the German Empire and to declare war. The declaration will come 
today. The whole country must be upheaving with excitement. Soubiran 
arrived from Paris this afternoon with the great news that the United States 
had declared war against Germany, and Paris is decorated with Old Glory 
everywhere. Am mighty well affected with the news. Have pinned on my 
coat my little flag. I wish we could fling out in sight of all the Germans the 
glorious Stars and Stripes. I'm mighty glad I'm one of the few Americans 
who are already over here fighting, though I did desert my country's service 
to be here. 

Somehow I've given away completely this evening. I feel sure there is 
something very serious going to happen to me very soon. It doesn't seem any 
less than Death itself. I've never had such a feeling or been so saddened since 
coming over to battle for this glorious France. Somehow it seems a mockery 
to rejoice over the entrance of our country into the conflict when we have been 
over here so long, giving our all for the Right, while our country has been 
holding back. She should have been here long ago. 

April 5. 

Today's paper has a notice that our Escadrille has been officially taken over 
by the United States Government. The declaration of war has already passed 
the Senate and is expected to pass the House by a large majority. 

April 6. 

Flew from Bonneuil to our new aviation camp at Ham. We're better than 
we were at St. Just. Lovell, Willis and I walked up to see the ruins of Ham. 
The children in Ham all wanted to hold my hands when I was there with the 
Captain. The papers have brought the glad news that the United States has 
at last officially declared war against Germany. The French soldiers seem 
very, very pleased. It has a good moral effect for them and a disastrous one 
for Germany. 

April 7. 

We were called over to Chateau Bonneuil to meet a Commandant who is 
the head of aviation around here. He was very nice to us and informed us 
that we are to be under the United States control from now on. We're to have 
American Aviation Corps uniforms, insignia, etc. But nothing was mentioned 


about grades or commissions or pay, etc., and we aren't feeling very enthusias 
tic over the present outlook. Nothing absolutely official has come yet from 
the United States Government to us. Perhaps something better will come 
from that source a little later. We all hope so. Today's papers have the 
final news. The war is on at last for our country. 

Lieut. Navarre has just brought a Morane monocock monoplane out to fly 
on the front. It has a Rhone rotary motor of 138 h.p. and a speed of 165 
kilometres an hour at 2000 metres. It is just the machine I have always 
wished for and I'm going to ask Capt. Thienault for one for myself. 

Lufberry forced a Boche to land this afternoon back of the lines and Lieut, 
de Laage had four combats. He is really fine and has plenty of nerve. 

April 9. 

Started from Ham at 6 o'clock with the Captain, Soubiran and Parsons to 
come into Bourget to get four new Spads and two Nieuports which are there 
for us. Lovell and Willis came along in a tractor with three mechanics. 
The trip was very interesting as we passed through the devastated regions. 
The Captain brought us into Paris. All Paris is decorated with Old Glory and 
with the Allies' flags. It looks fine, better than all the rest put together. 

Major Parker has today taken up my case. I certainly appreciate all he has 
done and is doing for me. He's fine. He has been appointed United States 
military attache to Gen. Nivelle's staff at Compiegne. 

April 12. 

Thaw asked the Ambassador and the French War Office for definite news 
about what is to be done with us, but neither knew anything at all. The 
Captain went to the French War Office this morning to demand that we 
all receive commissions as Second Lieutenants. Haven't heard yet what 
result he obtained but am sure it will never be our luck to receive any com 
missions at all. If we belonged to a monarchy, we'd all be Captains, now, 
with scores of decorations and honors. As it is we're nothing y and mighty 
little of that too. 

April 13. 

Went out with Hoskier and Willis, with Lieut, de Laage and Lufberry over 
us in Spads. Soon after reaching the lines, found a German biplane under me 
and attacked it. Got up close and fired three shots when my machine gun 
jammed. Had to go back to get it fixed. Went right out again. Was alone, 
but saw many French and English avions in the air. Got into a fight with 
another Boche, but he dove below the clouds and I lost him. Feel mighty 
sorry I missed getting one of them. I still have my old Nieuport but with a 
new 120 h.p. motor, and it certainly does run splendidly. I am quite con 
tented with it for the time being. Perhaps I can get a Morane monocock 
later on. Lufberry brought down his eighth Boche this afternoon in the Eng 
lish lines. Lieut, de Laage got two machines last Sunday, which were con 
firmed on Monday. That makes three to his credit. 

Secretary of War Baker is sending us the Government's thanks for our 


services over here, and a request that we remain here on the front. He 
must believe we all have desires to return there and get easy jobs. 

Mother writes that Rivers is out at sea somewhere on a battleship. 

April 14. 

Went out on patrol with Haviland and Rockwell. Rockwell Jjad to return 
on account of a jammed gun, so I stayed around over our drachens till sunset. 
One was brought down by a Boche last evening when no one was there to go 
after him. Found out incidentally this afternoon that a German biplane was 
forced to land in one of our lines at the same time when MacConnell and I had 
our fight about the same place where poor Mac fell, only within our lines. 
The two aviators were made prisoners by the Colonel of the Ninety-eighth 
Infantry. It might very well have been the one I attacked, as I thought I 
saw flames on its fuselage but didn't see it descend. At any rate I have told 
the facts to the Captain and have made a demand to Commandant Facon 
through him, asking him to try to confirm it for me through the Colonel of 
the Ninety-eighth. It will mean the Military Medal and a citation for me if it 
is confirmed. 

April 15. 

Cloudy with rain all afternoon. Went out with Lieut, de Laage and Parsons 
to protect machines taking photographs over the German lines. The German 
batteries kept shelling us and Lieut de Laage had a short combat with a Hun 
machine without result. 

Walked into Ham and went to Church. Then visited the graveyard where 
a lot of German and French soldiers are buried. Wrote my thanks to Mr. 
Brusis for his kind letter, and a letter to dear little mother. Letters have 
been hard things for me to tackle lately. 

The French were pounding the German positions in and around St. Quentin 
all day. This first line is now on the very edge of the city. At 1000 metres 
I could plainly hear the belching of the guns above the roar of my motor, 
and see the incessant flashes of discharge and explosion. 

Campbell arrived this afternoon and makes the nineteenth pilot here in the 

Have to go o