there would be nothing to prevent setting up in any of our cities a pagan temple, with prostitutes offering themselves under the name of religion as ministers to lust.

The reports from the field of the effect of peyote on its users contain three or four accounts of the personal experience of those who have made use of it. We select one of these accounts, given by an Indian, partly because it is less technical than those given by scientific experimenters, partly because its naïveté furnishes a good illustration of its so-called religious effect on members of the Indian race:

Now the first peyote that I took I drunk something about four cupful of tea. And its effects on me, that I seen, I do not want them again. I thought myself, that must be the devils. Why their ears stuck out above their heads, and they made all kinds of faces, they made fun of me; and turn over again and sometimes and dance around me. They stuck their tongue out and made fun of me. I never paid any attention to them. I stayed right with my peyote, and I prayed God. That is the first time. And then had effect once again. There was my girls-they was not married. I have three of them. When we was in there, the peyote meeting, why the peyote took effect on me, and I was praying myself, "And for the homeless and for the poor," and the fire was blazing up bright. I saw a ladder come from heaven and set right down at the end of the fireplace. Ladder was just as fine as could be made. And I seen two little fellows-about so tall-(Mr. W. indicates to Mr. L.)- come out of the fire. They wore black suits and black hats both of them little fellows they went up to heaven on that ladder, and never came down. We hardly need say to our readers that this is not religion, that it has no tendency to promote religion, that it has exactly an opposite tendency, since it leads the user to imagine that religion is something else than living a pure, honest, upright, kindly, and reverent life. There is a practically unanimous testimony from all missionaries, and apparently from all those interested in the moral and religious welfare of the Indian, that

A

its intoxicating effects seriously interfere with the religion of good morals. It is equally deleterious ethically and physically. It excites the sexual passions. In the words of one of the writers, "its use among some of the Indians is more of a drunk and carousal than a religious service." Our space does not allow us to quote at length from these official reports. We must content ourselves with stating the substance of these reports in single sentences. According to the practically unanimous testimony of these witnesses, peyote has the same poisonous effect as liquor or as opium-effects so marked that it is called "dry whisky." While producing abnormal awakening of the imagination, it saps the nervous energy and will power and gradually destroys energy, clearness of thought, and persistent purpose. It does not produce violence, as does alcohol, but is followed by a greater stupor. It unfits the user for the discharge of ordinary indus trial and business functions; injuriously affects the stomach, the liver, and the heart, producing dizziness and nausea, destroying the mucous coating of the stomach. It has in some instances produced blindness, led to suicide, and caused death. Probably nowhere in the country has there been a better opportunity for a study of the effects of peyote on the Indians than in Ŏklahoma, and as far back as 1899 Oklahoma passed a statute prohibiting its use on any Indian reservation or Indian allotment and its sale to any allotted Indian in the Territory, except as a medicine prescribed by a professional physician.

Mr. Gandy's bill, which was left unenacted by the last Congress will be reintroduced, and it ought to be pushed forward to speedy enactment, as it can be if Mr. Gandy receives the co-operation of his colleagues; for the use of peyote, promoted partly by financial interests, partly by unscrupulous Indian leaders opposed to anything which promotes Indian civilization, and partly a debasing superstition, is working a widespread evil among the Indian tribes which can be prevented only by prompt and vigorous legislative action.

SI journeyed towards Washington in the early morning of the 2d of April, I judged from the news headlines that the town that day might be the stirring scene of clashing mobs of pacifists and patriots. Nothing could be further from the fact. The crowds were not unusual. There were few overt signs of popular tension. The collision of Senator Lodge and the pacifist furnished the only real outstanding exception. Who would have suspected the rather delicateappearing, scholarly statesman Henry Cabot Lodge, of Massachusetts, as likely to be the man par excellence to put the "fist" into pacifist upon that momentous day? It is another illustration of the fact that the truly meek man is the most dangerous of all to drive into a corner. It is thus that the meek inherit the earth! Suffice it to remark in passing that if Mr. Lodge were under the Constitutional necessity of submitting himself to the suffrage of Massachusetts to-morrow, the plan of popular election of United States Senators would be vindicated most overwhelmingly. Any opponent would be buried in an avalanche of ballots. Such is the potential virility of the American people.

Pacifists in Washington on the 2d of April? Their influence was too small to be weighed except in the scales of an apothecary. The power that forbade them was not in the patriotic crowds, for there were no great patriotic crowds. It was in the air. It was in the sky. It was in the psychical might of a hundred millions of democratic freemen, waking, sending at last irresistible intimations of the National will to the brain center of the Republic.

In the speech of the President to Congress on the evening of that eventful day America came to herself. I heard in Washington of a recent luminous declaration by a general of France. He said: "Twenty per cent of the French army are brave men. Twenty per cent are cowards. The other sixty per cent are either brave or cowardly according to the leadership of their officers." What is true of the French army is true of the

American democracy. Inert, thoughtless, divided, non-patriotic though the American people may seem, it needs, when the time comes, but the divine spark of leadership to melt all hearts, to weld all wills into one channel of power, to set the might of American democracy free to serve the world.

That is what the speech of the President did. I watched the Senators file into the seats reserved for them in the House of Representatives. Justices of the Supreme Court, Ambassadors, and representatives of plain America thronged the galleries and were still. The President came. There was a cheer, and then all again was hushed as before. The President began to read. There was neither rhetorical artifice nor oratorical surge of personality. His voice was not strong. His manner was solemn and burdened. And for a time only the tensity of the throng marked the re sponse to his words. But suddenly that vast assemblage detected in the Message the eager, triumphant note of democratic freedom. "We will not choose the path of submission," said their great National leader. And as if the shifting sands had become rock under their feet, they rose in their places and with a shout of men who will have liberty or report to God alone the reason for not having it, they bore to the world outside the first sure tidings of the invincible determination of the awakened spirit of the American people.

And so it continued to the end. By the remarkable insight and restraint of his interpretation, as well as by the thoroughness of his programme and the completeness of his redemption from the phrasing and fallacies of indecision, the President disarmed all his critics.

As I rode by the White House on the way to the Capitol, about seven o'clock that evening, I wondered what the Presi dent was thinking during those brief moments before he was to go to make that address, fateful for the American people and for the cause of democracy throughout the world. Was he think ing of Lincoln? All real rulers of democracy, when the hour of crisis comes, seem to think of Lincoln and grow strong. Thus

did Lloyd George at the moment when the gigantic burden of the rule of the English people and of the destinies of western Europe settled upon his shoulders. Although he did not mention his name, the spirit of Wilson at the Capitol was the spirit of Lincoln.

Can he fight a war like Lincoln? Earlier in the day I sat for an hour in Washington with an army chief high in the councils of National defense. And he shook his head. In America there is no prearrangement between the physical power of the Nation and the representative power of Congress. In a few hours the speech of the President would be over and the policies of Congress would be announced. And then what? Then it is up to the army and the navy of the United States. And that is the reason the army chief shook his head. Can the President fight the war successfully and honorably in the absence of National prevision and after the fathomless Congressional disregard of the needs of National defense? "God knows," said the army chief. America has put her hand to the plow and can not turn back. "God help her," said the President, "she can do no other."

The organization of the war Congress was marked by two minor but important incidents. The first was the depressing showing made by the Republican leadership of the House, and the second was the advent of Miss Rankin to the halls of Congress. Leaving by far the more agreeable of the two until the last, I speak first of the leadership of the Republicans.

It is still broken and empty. The fatuous and divisive elements of weakness appeared in the bitterness over the election of the leader, Mr. Mann. The country does not need to be told that Mr. Mann in no way represents the National spirit and overwhelming sentiment and might which the Message of President Wilson typified: But an innate pettiness of disposition was displayed at its worst for six long mortal hours during the afternoon of the decisive 2d of April. While President Wilson waited at the White House for the opportunity to read his Message, momentous alike to the country and the world, Mr. Mann insisted upon roll call after roll call for the election of all the officers-barring the blind chaplain-in the hope that, by some chance or hocus-pocus of the close vote, the Republicans might have in some single instance a majority present to achieve the bit of patronage which would fall from the table of even a

minority officer of the House. Thus is National vision reduced to the circumference of a pinhead.

And now about Miss Rankin, the cheeriest thing to be told of the happenings of that awesome day. She is a trump. She began the day with a breakfast at the Shoreham, given by representatives of all factions of the suffragists of the United States. She had Mrs. Carrie Chapman Catt on one side of her and Miss Alice Paul on the other. Anybody who thinks that is no feat does not know what it means. The most hostile antagonism which exists in the world is not between Orangemen and Irishmen or between Republican factions in California, but between the suffrage groups led respectively by Mrs. Catt and Miss Paul. Diplomacy? That harmony breakfast could never have happened if Miss Rankin were not diplomatic to the limit.

She captured Congress in an hour. She was regular. She voted, as a newly hatched Republican member, for Mann. That was good strategy, for her. It was too early to begin entering National protests. That would have weakened her and would have done no good to anybody. And it seemed to please Mann more than all the rest of the votes he received. A gallant stream of Congressmen, nudging and pushing each other, flowed towards her seat all day long. And she met them all as a modest, charming woman naturally would meet them. And the verdict was unanimous. Congress was glad it was alive, it felt so good about it. The comments were all favorable. "She is only the first, there will be more of them," said one. "I don't wonder she has had two hundred offers of marriage," said another. Whenever she appeared outside the corridor, people overwhelmed her with ejaculations of congratulation and admiration, with requests for autographs and all kinds of things, until she finally threw up her hands and said, "Oh, I am getting flustered." An aged messenger for the House offices hardly knew how to act in her presencepresence "Something I never expected to see," he said. "But I like her. There is nothing stuck up about her."

She will be a tonic to the manners of the House of Representatives. In respecting her they will come finally to respect themselves more. She has a great opportunity. No other ever had the honor which has fallen to her in the National leadership of her sex which represents approximately fifty millions of the people of the United States. Washington, D. C., April 2. FREDERICK M. DAVENPORT.

T was nearly eight in the evening, and on the even hour the

President was announced to arrive at the Capitol. As we hurried along Pennsylvania Avenue in company with pedes trians, crowded trolley cars and autos, all moving toward Capitol Hill, we saw in the distance the majesty of a great Nation symbolized with surpassing beauty. At the end of the Avenue rose the terraces, pillars, and dome of a stately structure, blazing white in the glare of more than a hundred searchlights, and sharply outlined against the inky blackness of a cloudy night. Near the top of the dome four flags, pointing to the cardinal points of the compass, fluttered in a stiff breeze, their stars and stripes brilliantly illuminated by skillfully directed shafts of light. It was a setting worthy of a momentous event in the Nation's history.

We ascended the hill and passed into the crowd, which was held well back from the Capitol steps by lines of mounted cavalry. Lighted by reflection from the glaring white walls of the great building, the young soldiers in their bright uniforms, proudly erect and with sabers drawn, made part of a picture one can never forget. It was a good-natured crowd, as most American crowds are. "Our Cossacks!" laughed one fellow, as two or three of the cavalrymen slowly backed their horses against a group which was prone to push too far forward into the forbidden open space-a space kept clear for the constant stream of autos bringing Senators, Representatives, diplomats, and their families and friends to the entrance beneath the broad stairway leading up to the House of Representatives. It was a patient crowd, apparently accustomed to the easy-going ways of

South; for although the had announced that Presi

dent Wilson would leave the White House at 7:45 and begin his address at 8 o'clock, no one chafed as 8:30 drew near and the endless line of arriving limousines, cabs, and other motor vehicles gave no indication that the time for the historic event was at hand.

It was to some extent. a cynical crowd. "Do you think he'll put it across this time?" asked one. "Not much," was the assured reply; "he'll side-step it again." "More armed neutrality dope, I suppose," ventured a third. "He won't dare come across with a message as weak as that last one," asserted a passer-by who paused to express his opinion; "the country is too much aroused and won't stand for it." "Well, I hope you're right, pard." This from a long-legged, broad-shouldered chap with a Western twang in his speech. "I'm from Oklahoma, and there's none of your damned pacifist about us.'

יין

A restless movement in the crowd and all eyes strained to see three limousines, accompanied by several motorcycles bearing khaki-clad secret service men, glide swiftly up to the entrance. "There he goes "See the coat-of-arms on the doors? Those are the White House limousines." No cheering, no excitement. And the President of the United States stepped from his carefully guarded machine and entered the blazing palace from which he was to call a great Nation to arms in the historic struggle for human liberties. There followed nearly a half-hour of silence, while thousands of faces turned toward the light gazed at the snow-white dome and the four flags flying far above them. Was the honor of that flag about to be vindicated?

A black speck moved along the Capitol roof, easily visible against the white background of the dome. It was an American soldier, symbol of the power of the Nation, on guard duty. Was the power of the Nation about to be thrown into the world struggle on the side of justice and right, to guard the principles of human liberty for which our fathers died?

66

"It's a bad sign, his talking so long," said one anxious man. "If he had decided on action, his address would have been short and to the point." "Maybe he's giving a list of Germany's crimes," was the optimistic rejoinder. "Then he'll be there all night," returned the first. A woman with pinched face was evidently torn by two emotions. "I hope he'll do what's right; but I don't think they ought to send our boys over to Europe to be killed." A genial gentleman turned toward her: "Madam, I sympathize with you, but you would not want your boy to be a coward, would you? Suppose the only way to stop the murder of women and children on the sea is to send our boys to Europe; would you not want them to go?" Two pacifists pushed through the crowd, identified by the white armband Keep us out of War," and by the sneers and gibes which greeted them. Pacifists were below par in this crowd, not excepting the dove of peace itself. A white pigeon, disturbed by the dazzling searchlights, fluttered in the glare for a moment, then alighted on the Capitol dome. "Oh, hell," groaned an irreverent patriot, "the dove of peace settles on the dome while he speaks! We're in for more watchful waiting.'

Suddenly a cheer burst from the marble palace. "That's a good sign" "They wouldn't cheer like that unless he was going to do something." Hope lived again in the hearts of the crowd. It flickered and died down as long silence succeeded the cheer. the cheer. "Maybe he is describing how we must provide for the war," was an optimistic explanation. The breeze stiffened, and many who had ventured out without wraps shivered, partly from cold, partly from nervous tension. Another cheer, prolonged. "Probably that's the end now.' "Here they come down the steps. Let's push over there where they will pass and find out what it's to be." A boy scout rushes past us, cheeks aflame and eyes sparkling with the excitement of great news. "What is it?" "War," he gasped; "he asked for war!" "Thank God!" was the fervent response.

Almost instantly rose the raucous cry of the newsboys, "Extruh! War extruh!" Papers containing the full text of the momentous address were selling in the crowd before the President could descend to the entrance and enter his waiting limousine. As the machine swung into the open space, in the full glare of the great light set upon a hill, a deafening shout went up from many thousand throats. It was the shout of a nation sick of peace with dishonor, sick of two years of untold humiliation; free at last from the galling yoke of a false neutrality, free to fight for the honor of the Nation and the liberty of all mankind. DOUGLAS W. JOHNSON. Washington, D. C., April 2.

LEFT New York for New Orleans just before the official break with Germany. When the steamer docked in the Crescent City, the newspapers told us that von Bernstorff had been given his passports.

Since that time I have been traveling through the South with, as an Irishman might be permitted to say, "my ear to the ground." I wanted, more than anything else, to find out what that part of the United States which boasts the largest percentage of old American stock was thinking about the war and the duty of the country in these critical days.

From New Orleans my search has carried me through Louisiana and Mississippi to Memphis, east through Tennessee to Nashville, south again to the edge of the black belt in Alabama, eastward through Macon and Atlanta, then through the corners of South Carolina and North Carolina to Knoxville in East Tennessee.

I have talked with business men, ministers, farmers, teachers, editors, prison wardens, lumbermen, conductors, and a regiment of unclassified citizens. I have tried as far as possible to turn myself into an impartial listening machine that the views of all those whom I met might be made to contribute the proper share toward a general picture of Southern opinion.

Generalizations as to Southern opinion or Eastern opinion or any other brand of opinion are, of course, open to obvious criticism' and numerous exceptions. The engineer who sends down his drills into the earth can testify absolutely to the condition of only a very limited area of soil. But the generalization which he draws from those drillings may have a value of very wide application. Perhaps I can hope, then, that the conclusion which I have reached from test drillings I have made in the field of Southern opinion may at least be worthy of record.

The South has been a section of the country removed from the immediate effects of the war. It has, of course, been hit, and hit hard, by the English blockade, but the recent prices of cotton have done much to wipe out the memory of the disastrous period which followed the outbreak of the war.

The South has trusted the President perhaps more completely than any other part of the United States. Such a trust has inevitably exerted a strong influence towards the acceptance of the President's views on the proper relation of the United States towards the several belligerents, and of the duty of American citizens to remain neutral in thought and deed.

As the stronghold of Democratic tradition the South has also

a great body of people who regard the President as an interpreter rather than a maker of public opinion. The function of the President, according to those who hold this view, is to carry out the wishes and demands of the people. If the President fails to go beyond the expressed demand of the people-no matter what the situation may be-he is not to be held accountable for sins of omission.

Starting from such a situation as this and such political premises as these, the present attitude of the South furnishes one of the most hopeful and striking proofs of the justice and soundness of the contentions of those who have since the outbreak of the war urged and hoped and prayed that the American Nation might not desert the cause of democracy in its hour of greatest

trial.

Without the influence of direct contact with the war, with an almost absolute trust in the President and an ingrained political philosophy which asks obedience rather than leadership from the National Executive, the South to-day stands unequivocally for the maintenance of American rights at sea and the support of the Allied forces by the Government of the United States.

There is no jingoism in the South, nor in the East either, for that matter, Mr. Bryan to the contrary notwithstanding. The South has thought out, without outside pressure or help, the problems confronting the country, and it has reached its present frame of mind by a process of reason and cool logic. It is facing very soberly the responsibility that has come with the inevitable conclusion of its logic.

Before the progress of this logical process the sophistries of Mr. Bryan have melted away into thin mist. There are, so far as I have seen, none so poor in the South as to do reverence to the doctrine of peace at any price. They may exist, but I did not meet them, nor have they possession of any editorial positions of consequence.

To praise the fundamental patriotism of the South would be like praising the virtue of a man's wife. The patriotism of the South is something quite beyond the realm of discussion. The patriotism of the South. plus its trust in the President, plus its present attitude toward the war, are factors which, with proper leadership in Washington, can be developed into a mighty ele ment of our National strength during the coming conflict with the Central Powers. Public opinion in the South is ready for the test. What is the word from Washington?

Knoxville, Tennessee, April 1.

HAROLD T. PULSIFER.

WAS in Stockholm months ago for the purpose of ascertaining the real Swedish position with regard to the ascertaining the real Swedish position with regard to the Admiral Lindman-an ex-Prime Minister-who now with a change of Government has been appointed Minister for Foreign Affairs. He was a supporter and intimate friend of the then Prime Minister, Mr. Hammerscholl. Admiral Lindman put before me the case for the existing Government, which was professedly neutral but had strong and indeed predominant German elements within it. I got the other side of the story from Mr. Branting, the Socialist leader, a man who ranks high among the unofficial statesmen of Europe, and who, it is freely prophesied, will at an early date be the Swedish Prime Minister. He is ardently on the side of the Allies. I discussed affairs with Mr. Wallenberg, the Foreign Minister, the strongest and ablest man in the Cabinet, whose sympathy with France and England undoubtedly was putting a check on pro-German inclinations among his colleagues.

When I was in Stockholm (which was towards the end of 1916), there were freely expressed anticipations of a change of Government, and that change, it was believed, would carry with it the appointment of either Mr. Branting or Mr. Wallenberg as Prime Minister. The personnel of the present Ministry comes as a surprise, and not altogether a pleasant one. Carl Swartz, the new Premier, is little known, and was not even discussed by the many public men with whom I talked. Colonel Akerman, the new Minister for War, is openly announced as a strong pro-German, and I can bear testimony to the fact that among responsible persons Admiral Lindman was freely asserted to be a sympathizer with pro-German opinion.

On top of this is the fact of the elimination of Mr. Wallenberg, with pro-Ally sympathies, and in many respects the biggest man in Sweden. The situation, therefore, is not reassuring. There may be big happenings in Sweden before many months are past.

Of one thing the Allies may rest assured the sympathies of the Swedish people are with them. That fact is not understood as clearly as it might be by those who make the sweeping assertion that Sweden is pro-German.

Before I narrate some of the remarks of Admiral Lindman and Mr. Branting, each of them with a different view-point, let me outline the drama of Sweden as it presents itself at close quarters.

The King, with a strong-minded German Queen, the bureaucrats, and many of the rich people are pro-German. The great mass of the people are pro-Ally; those who are not have been held back only by fear of an autocratic Russia. German influences have continually made themselves felt, and it is not hard to see why. Sweden faces Russia and has distrusted Russia and was startled when democratic England joined hands with her in the war. Germany, efficient, prosperous, highly organized, had for long been exploiting this dislike of Russia. She permeated many of Sweden's trade activities. Professors with German leanings were at the Swedish universities. A highly effective Swedish army of six hundred thousand owed much to German methods of training. Ceaseless German propaganda was everywhere to be found. With the governing circles under German prepossessions, it is easy to see the frictions which were certain to arise when the Allies had to impose restrictions about imports and at the same time to find a pathway across Sweden for sending supplies to Russia. Germany promptly tried to embroil Sweden against the Allies, and has continued to do so. She met with some success, because undoubted inconveniences and losses were imposed on Sweden by the shipping restrictions. On top of this were the German influences at

Court. Nevertheless the heart of the Swedish people remained sound, as was shown in startling fashion. A pro-Ally legisla ture was in power. The pro-Germans forced an election, believing that the country would back them up the plea being lack of military preparedness for emergencies. What happened? The country returned to power an assembly which comprised one hundred and forty-six Socialists and Liberals, nearly all sympathetic with England and France, and eighty-six Conservatives, most of whom were against being led into war on the side of Germany. The pro-Germans were, however, by no means powerless. The King put in power a "business Government," who, while acclaiming themselves as rigidly neutral, were very much pro-German, with the exception of Mr. Wallenberg, the Foreign Minister. This Government, which has been kept from any action toward entering the war on the side of Germany by the progressive forces in the Rikstag, led by Mr. Brantingand in a lesser degree by the unwilling Conservative minorityhas nevertheless pressed its neutral claims very hard against the Allies. One need not go further than that. Admiral Lindman, not in office, but undoubtedly a man with power behind the scenes, was one of those who opposed most forcibly an agree ment with the Allies which would have given Sweden all the supplies she needed for sustenance provided she agreed that these supplies should not release material to be passed on for Germany. He took his stand on the ground of Sweden's dignity as a nation. That Great Britain was fighting for her life had no weight with him. I am quite sure that he would never have admitted that the Allies were fighting the cause of civilization. It can hardly be doubted that Germany regards his appointment as Foreign Minister of Sweden as a most hopeful sign.

I saw Admiral Lindman at his residence, and found him a man of charming manners and great courtesy. He was both clear and definite. Naturally he based his position on strict neutrality; and, indeed, he made out a plausible case. I hasten to say that he gave me the impression of being both able and sincere. The point, of course, is the bias of his mind, and of that there could be no doubt to an Englishman. Here is the gist of what he said to me:

"Sweden holds that she has a right to trade with neutral nations across neutral oceans according to established international usage. If the Allies by virtue of their power impose restrictions with regard to imports, we have to submit, but we do not confirm them or admit them to be justifiable. It is true that we might make more money by another policy, but we have our ideals.

He cited indignities and injuries suffered by Sweden through the blockade. He agreed that there were two policies open to Sweden:

1. To stand by rights as a neutral and submit to individual restrictions only when compelled thereto by force.

2. To come to a general arrangement with the Allies for the import of supplies necessary for the life of the nation.

"I am for the first," he said. He added to this the remark that he had always had a friendly feeling towards Great Britain, and hoped always to keep it.

Possibly there has been a change of opinion in Admiral Lindman in the past few months, but his association with a pro-German War Minister does not give much ground for hope.

I now present the other side of the picture as shown me by Mr. Branting. "The feeling is spreading that there should be a general agreement with Great Britain about supplies," he said. There is great dissatisfaction with the policy of the Government. We are in the midst of warfare and have to recognize facts.'

66

I asked him about the feeling of Sweden on the war. "The sympathy of practically all the labor movement is with

the Allies," he replied, " and also large sections of opinion outside the labor movement. But there is a good deal of sympathy with the Germans in other quarters. There has been much German penetration into our life. German methods have been adopted in our education, in our army, even in our labor unions, the organization of which, by the way, is on the German model." "Is there any danger of Sweden being forced into the war on the side of Germany?" I asked.

"I think that danger is past. There was a danger of it at certain periods in the past two years, but it is over now. All sections of the Riksdag are in favor of maintaining neutrality." Later I saw Mr. Wallenberg at the Foreign Office, and his remarks must be read in the light of the responsibility which then lay upon him. "The Swedish King, Parliament, and people," he said, "have from the start decided to remain neutral. Never for a moment could they contemplate entering this horri

Ο

66

ble war. Every one in Sweden will be glad when this terrible conflict is over. It is said in England that the Swedes are related to the Germans. It is true that they are, but they are also related to the English, and it is the latter racial traits which are perhaps the stronger. These very British qualities are what make some of the difficulties between the two countries. I hope, however, that we have arrived at a point when many of the difficulties of the situation will be cleared away."

Since uttering those words Mr. Wallenberg has gone from power. Admiral Lindman has taken his place. I observe that the new Swedish Government has issued a proclamation of continuance of an unswerving neutrality. There are many kinds of neutrality, and sympathizers with the Allies will nurse the hope that Sweden's neutrality will be such as to conserve the permanent interests of civilization. FRANK DILNOT. New York City, March 31.

N March 29 there was printed in the New York newspapers an advertisement signed by "The Woman's Committee, Mrs. Henry Villard, Chairman, Emergency Peace Federation." Occupying a full page, it began, in large type, Mothers, Daughters, and Wives of Men-Have You No Hearts? Have You No Eyes? Have You No Voice? We Are Being Rushed to the Brink of War-and You Do Not Want War." With a reminder of the lives sacrificed, homes desolated, children orphaned, mothers bereaved, this advertisement continued: "Your men are to be sent into this horrible butchery your husbands, your fathers, your sons. We have no real cause for war. The provocation is great-but we have not yet exhausted all the reasonable alternatives to ruinous war." After suggesting as alternatives a Joint High Commission, a Conference of Neutrals, the Declaration of London, and an Appeal to the Belligerents, this advertisement asked for two hundred thousand dollars to be spent for publicity to "Keep America out of war." It ended with this appeal to women: Mothers, save your sons. Daughters, save your fathers. Wives and sweethearts, save your husbands and lovers."

66

To this appeal there was an immediate response in the form of letters to the newspapers. The New York "Times" reports that, with negligible exceptions, that response, as it came to its office, was one of protest and resentment. We here quote two of the letters sent to the New York "Times." We select these because they are peculiarly eloquent avowals of faith in honor, righteousness, and truth at any price; and, since it is of the price that women will have to pay in war that these letters speak, they are more eloquent than those that any man could write. To the Editor of the New York Times:

66

May I say a few words to the "mothers, daughters, and wives of men" who are being so hysterically bombarded with to-day's full-page advertisement of the Emergency Peace Federation? The question appears to me to be, not Have you no hearts? Have you no eyes? Have you no voice?" so much as, Have you any brains, and do you know how to use them? And the answer in that case is clear; for of all the utter "intellectual detachment" samples it has been my misfortune to read, this page of emotional insanity is about the limit. Are we women of America capable of real thinking, or are we to be used as the country's emotional pendulum? Are we to willfully remain in the fog of sentiment, and, as Dr. Paton recently said, "fail to face fail to face life and glorify our indecision," or are we to prove ourselves once and for all as capable and brave and strong, fit to be the mothers of real men?

I have a grown son who is dearer to me than life itself, but rather than see him even hesitate as to where his duty lies to-day I would mourn him as worse than dead.

These pacifists who shrilly shriek that "we have no real cause for war are, to my mind, on the verge of delirium, and when they clamor for $200,000 that we may keep America out of war,' and save our sons and husbands and fathers, they are imbecile and-forgive me they are so funny, so pathetically humorous, that, on the edge of tragedy, I must have my laugh. Oh, women of America, where is our sense of proportion, our

sense of the really big things in life, the things that count, the time when a man must look deep into his own soul and find what sort of man he is, that we mothers and daughters and wives of men are called upon to save our sons and husbands and fathers! I hate war, but I hate worse the things that make war; and perhaps this is our last chance as a Nation to make our contribution to the defense of common humanity. To-morrow may be too late, and we may have been swept down into the coward class, among the willfully blind and the faint of heart. Is American womanhood to be held responsible for this whim of Peace! Peace! when there is no peace? Not if I know women! We can think and act, as well as feel, and it is my belief that our kind of courage, which must so often be that of just endurance, is as great as, if not greater than, that which sends men marching into battle. We all hate war, but as long as even a part of our country is drowning in sentimentalism and tragically without vision we are equally unprepared for either peace or war, and if life is to be worth living we've got to fight something, even if it's only our inner selves. Therefore when you read this truly marvelous advertisement, digest it (if you can) and then get busy. Stop dreaming and drifting and star-gazing, and send your men out to the "day's work," whatever it may be, with the feeling that we, too, are making ready with that high courage which is woman's rightful heritage since the world began. New York, March 29. IRENE MCNEAL SWASEY.

To the Editor of the New York Times:

I am one American woman who protests against being spoken for by Mrs. Henry Villard, of the Emergency Peace Federation. I cannot take a page in the daily papers and proclaim myself conspicuously, as does she, but I wish I could, for I believe there are American "mothers and daughters and wives of men" who speak with me.

The lives already sacrificed, homes desolated, children orphaned, and mothers in grief instruct me that worse than butchery can happen to my men, and worse-can happen to me than grief that they are dead.

No man worth bearing ever yet kept out of honorable fight because a woman hung about his neck to " save" him. I believe our men, Mrs. Villard's and mine, will be men, whether we help them now or hinder. It is fervently my intent to help, not hinder, mine.

I do not want war. I want my country a place of peace and brotherhood, my home safe, myself inviolate and unafraid. I do not want war, but "if my voice could be heard there would be war, and without delay, war against the forces of frightfulness that threaten to master and obliterate us.

To be spiritually submerged and identified with these forces is our utmost peril; to stand against them is our salvation, alive or dead. The one blessing in their gift is death, and I am less afraid of it for me and mine than I am of safety and shame and peace in the absorption of their rule.

I am one American woman who protests against being spoken for by Mrs. Henry Villard. EMMA SHERIDAN FRY. Brooklyn, March 29.