\ '-"^ .Hq. ■s. o A. O ^^^ 'J^^ ^u^ " "S* ^0 '<^> sO A-^ ri^ ^^ * A. /•>~- ^^ '^ ■:^Ky-^-^ ^ $: 5? ^J *S. £^ . * ^-ft. ..^^ •^o .-^^ -c. '^ -^^ 0-- ,-& ^^ .0^ c <^ * o To ' A^ o * r- o o -.. .-^^ % >m DEFT OF Di -''"^ "% T THK GIFT ALLIES' DAY From the Original Painting By Childe Hassam " / uxint the picture dedicated to the British and French nations commemorating the coming together of the three peoples in the Fight for Democracy." - TIu- ki-sl fjMAt^ ir YAQ '8aUJA ^-****A\^^*^ DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY Contributions from representative men and women of letters and other arts from our allies and our own country EDITED BY THE GIFT BOOK COMMITTEE OF THE MILITIA OF MERCY " The kinship of blood between nations may grow weaker, but the kinship of ideals and purposes constitutes a permanent bond of union." John Lewis Griffiths NEW YORK: JOHN LANE COMPANY LONDON : JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD MCMXVIII .1)4 COPYRIGHT, I917 BY JOHN LANE COMPANY All rights reserved The net proceeds of the sale of this book will be used in aiding the needy families of the men of the Naval Militia who have been called to the defense of liberty. -tc/Kts D ^KU. J. HE Editors gratefully acknowledge the rich contributions to this hook, which it has been their privilege to arrange. The generous spirit which has accompanied each gift permeates the pages, and its genial glow will be felt by all of our readers. The book is only a fire-side talk on the ideals and purposes held in^ common by those who belong to the friendly circle of the Allies, and is not intended to have diplomatic, economic or official significance. The Edi- tors, however, have been honored by the approval of their plan, and have received invaluable assistance from diplomatists, statesmen and men of affairs in securing contributions otherwise inaccessible at the present time. We wish to acknowledge (although we cannot adequately express our appreciation) the gift from the President of the United States of his portrait, and his kind recognition of our desire to render an international service. We are especially indebted to Viscount IsHii, Special Ambassador from Japan to Washington, D. C, and to Lord NoRTHCLiFFE, Chairman of The British War Mission, for their thoughtful and sympathetic articles written during days crowded with official duties. We owe a debt of thanks to His Excellency, the Italian Ambassador, for the privilege of publishing, for the first time in America, D'Annun- zio's sonnet to General Cadorna; to Their Excellencies, the Portuguese, Greek and Chinese Ministers, for helpful suggestions and translations; to Mr. William Phillips, Assistant Secretary of State; to Mr. John Hays Hammond; to Mr. John Lane, Mr. W. J. Locke, Mrs. Theodore Mc- Kenna, all of London, England, who assembled our rich English contribu- tions for us; to Mr. William de Leftwich Dodge for the cover design, a rare and beautiful tribute to our defenders; to Mr. Melville E. Stone, without whose personal influence we could not have secured contributions from all of our Allies in so short a time; to Mr. J. Jefferson Jones and Mr. William Dana Orcutt, who have devoted time and thought without stint to the making of the book, and have given the committee the advan- tage of their technical knowledge and distinguished taste entirely as a, patriotic service; to Miss Lilian Elliott for her many translations from Portuguese and Spanish writers; to Miss La Montaigne, Chairman of The Cardinal Mercier Fund; to Mr. Talcott Williams, Mr. Robert Underwood Johnson, Mr. Daniel Frohman; to The British War Mission, The Friends of France and Her Allies Committee, and to The Russian and Serbian Civil Relief Committees. To all we give our heartfelt thanks. The Editors. PREFACE X HIS beautiful book is the expression of the eager desire of all of the gifted men and women who have contributed to it and of the mem- bers of the Militia of Mercy to render homage to our sailors, soldiers, nurses and physicians who offer the supreme sacrifice to free the stricken people of other lands and to protect humanity with their bodies from an enemy who has invented the name and created the thing "welt-schmerz" — world anguish. But we want it to do more than extol their heroism and sacrifice, we want The Defenders of Democracy to help them win the war. It has been the thought of those who planned the book to meet three things needful, not only to the army at the front, but to that vaster army at home who watch and work and wait (and perhaps we need it more than they who have the stimulus of action) — to strengthen the realization that our soldiers of sea and land, though far away, are fighting for a cause which is vitally near the heart of every man and every woman, and the soul of every nafion — human freedom; "to forge the weapon of victory by fanning the flame of cheerfulness," and to be the means of lifting the burden of anxiety from those who go, lest their loved ones should suffer privation, bereft of their protecting care. So truly is this an Age of Service, that the response to the scope and spirit of our work was imme- diate and within four months from the day we sent our first request for co-operation in carrying out our plans, we had received the rich contri- butions contained in this book from men and women of letters and other arts, not only from our own generous country, but from all of our allies. Perhaps the most difficult task fell to those who were asked not to write of the war but to practice the gentle art of cheering us all up — an art so easily lost in these days of sorrow, suspense and anxiety — yet we have received many delightful contributions in harmony with this request, and so the cheerful note, the finer optimism, recurs again and again, and is sustained to the last page. Such a book is historic. It is a consecration of the highest gifts to the cause of human freedom and human fraternity. The Militia of Mercy, in expressing its gratitude to the men and women so greatly endowed who have made this book possible, trust they will find a rich reward in the thought that it will give both spiritual and material aid to those who are fighting in the great war. xviii PREFACE The book will be sold for the benefit of the families of the men of the Naval Militia now in the Federal Service and taking part in sea warfare. John Lane Company have published the book at cost, so that the publishers' profits, as well as our own, will be given to the patriotic work of the Militia of Mercy. It has been repeatedly said during the past year that America had not begun to feel the war. If America has not, how many Americans there are who have! We all know that the responsibilities and inequalities of war were felt first by our sailors. The whole outlook on life changed for many families of the Naval Militia the day after diplomatic relations with Germany were severed. Husbands, fathers and sons were called to service without any opportunity to provide for current expenses or to arrange for the future welfare of their loved ones. The burden of providing for the necessities of life fell suddenly, without warning, upon the wives and mothers of the civilian sailors. The world knew nothing of these cases, but the members of the Militia of Mercy who have visited the needy families, realize with what heroism, courage and self-sacrifice the women have done and are doing their part. For those of us who look on, to help them is not charity, but opportunity for patriotic service to give a very little to those who are giving all they cherish and all they hold dear for the sake of human Liberty and Democracy. TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE WOODROW WILSON, PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. A Message vi VICE ADMIRAL WILLIAM SOWDEN SIMS, U.S.N. A Message vii Commanding the American Naval Forces Operating in European Waters GENERAL JOHN J. PERSHING, U.S.A. A Letter. . . . viii Commanding General American Expeditionary Force LORD NORTHCLIFFE. Introduction ix Chairman, British War Mission to the United States THEODORE ROOSEVELT. Essential Service xiii Twenty-sixth President of the United States. Author and Statesman WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS. A Letter xiv American Author, New York, President of the American Academy of Arts and Letters HERMANN HAGEDORN. "How Can I Serve?" xv American Writer, New York. President, Vigilantes, American League of Artists and Authors for Patriotic Services PREFACE xvii CONTRIBUTIONS OF WRITERS BELGIUM GASTON DE LEVAL. Relgium and America 3 Belgian Advocate for Edith Cavell EMILE CAMMAERTS. Good Old Rernstorff! 6 Belgian Poet CHINA TSA YUAN-PEL The War in Europe 8 Chancellor of the Government University of Peking (Translation, Courtesy of the Chinese Minister) xix XX TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE A SYMPOSIUM— DEMOCRACY GEORGE STERLING. Invocation 9 American Poet, California GEORGE A. BIRMINGHAM. The Test 10 (Canon James O. Ilannay) Irish Clergyman and Man of Letters JOHN GALSWORTHY. The New Comradeship 12 English Writer WILLIAM J. LOCKE. Questionings 14 English Novelist HENRY VAN DYKE. Democracy in Peace and War. . . 17 American Clergyman, Diplomat and Writer AN INTERLUDE HARRIET MONROE. Sunrise over the Peristyle .... 18 American Poet, Chicago THE DRAMA DANIEL FROHMAN. Reminiscences of Booth 20 Theatrical Manager and Writer, New York J. HARTLEY MANNERS. God of My Faith: A One Act Play 24 Dramatist, New York FRANCE FREDERICK COUDERT. To France 44 American Lawyer and Publicist ANATOLE FRANCE. Ce Que Disent Nos Morts 47 French Author. (Translation by Emma M. Pope) RUPERT HUGHES. The Transports (Poetical Version of SuUy Prud'homme's "Les Berceaux") 53 American Writer, New York STEPHANE LAUZANNE. La Priere du Poilu 54 French Writer, Editor Le Matin. (Translation by Madame Carlo Polifeme) GREAT BRITAIN HONOURABLE JAMES M. BECK. A Tribute to England 61 American Lawyer and Publicist LORD BRYCE. Unity and Peace 66 English Statesman and Author TABLE OF CONTENTS xxi PAGE ROBERT HICHENS. Our Common Heritage 67 English Novelist STEPHEN McKENNA. Poetic Justice 69 English Statesman and Novelist LADY ABERDEEN. The Spell of the Kilties 84 (Wife of the Marquis of Aberdeen and Temair, K.T., Scotland) MRS. BELLOC LOWNDES. Sherston's Wedding Eve . . 87 English Novelist, London RALPH CONNOR. A Canadian Soldier's Dominion Day at Shorncliffe 105 Canadian Novelist STEPHEN LEACOCK. Simple as Day Ill Canadian Writer, Professor McGill University, Montreal MAY SINCLAIR. The Epic Standpoint in the War ... 118 English Writer, London GREECE ELEUTHERIOS VENIZELOS. The Greek Spirit 122 (Translation, with notes, by Carroll N. Brown) ITALY WILLIAM ROSCOE THAYER. Italy and Democracy. A Tribute to Italy 127 American Historian and Poet GABRIELE D'ANNUNZIO. Al Generale Cadorna .... 131 Italian Poet C. H. GRANGENT. Sonnet (Poetical version in English of the above) 132 Professor of Romance Languages, Harvard University AMY BERNARD Y. The Voice of Italy 133 Italian Writer JAPAN VISCOUNT K. ISHII. Japan's Ideals and Her Part in the Struggle 137 Japanese Statesman, Special Ambassador to Washington, D.C., 1917 xxii TABLE OF CONTENTS LATIN AMERICA SALOMON DE LA SELVA. Tropical Interlude 141 Nicaraguan Poet LILIAN E. ELLIOTT, F.R.G.S. Latin America and the War . 145 Literary Editor, Pan American Magazine SALOMON DE LA SELVA. Drill 157 PORTUGAL HENRIQUE LOPES DE MENDONCA. The People's Struggle 161 Portuguese writer. Member of Academy of Science, Lisbon EDGAR PRESTAGE. Portugal 162 English Writer, A Friend of Portugal ROUMANIA ACHMED ABDULLAH. Roumania — An Interpretation . 166 Novelist. Of the Family of the Ameer of Afghanistan RUSSIA IVAN NARODNY. The Soul of Russia 169 Russian Patriot and Writer. Member of the Russian Civilian Relief Committee, New York IVAN NARODNY. The American Bride 175 SERGEY MAKOWSKY. The Insane Priest 189 Russian Poet. (Translation by Constance Purdy) SERBIA M. BOICH. Without a Country 190 Serbian Poet. (Translation by Professor Miloche Trivonnatz) UNITED STATES OF AMERICA INDIAN PRAYER. To the Mountain Spirit 192 Interpreted by Mary Austin MAURICE HEWLETT. To America, 4 July, 1776 194 English Man of Letters CHARLES W. ELIOT. The Need of Force to Win and Maintain Peace 195 President Emeritus of Harvard University TABLE OF CONTENTS xxiii PAGE JAMES CARDINAL GIBBONS. Woman and Mercy. ... 197 Cardinal, Baltimore, Maryland JOHN LEWIS GRIFFITHS. Joan of Arc — Her Heritage 199 From an address delivered in London, 1911 DR. J. H. JOWETT. Things Which Cannot Be Shaken . . 201 English Clergyman, 5th Ave. Presbyterian Church, N.Y. OWEN JOHNSON. Somewhere in France 206 American Author MELVILLE E. STONE. The Associated Press 209 Journalist, General Manager of the Associated Press, N.Y. MARY AUSTIN. Pan and the Pot-Hunter 214 American Writer, New York ROBERT W. CHAMBERS. Men of the Sea 222 American Author, New York ARTHUR GUY EMPEY. Jim — A Soldier of the King. . 226 American. Volunteer Soldier in British Army and Author, "Over the Top'' EDNA FERRER. Heel and Toe 235 American Novelist, Chicago THEODOSIA GARRISON. Those Who Went First . . . '. 243 American Poet, New Jersey LOUISE CLOSSER HALE. A Summer's Day 244 American Actress and Author, New York LOUIS UNTERMEYER. Children of the War 257 American Poet, New York FANNIE HURST. Khaki-Boy 258 American Novelist and Dramatist, New York ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON. Hymn to America . 269 American Editor and Author, New York AMY LOWELL. The Breaking Out of the Flags .... 270 American Poet, Cambridge, Mass. MRS. JOHN LANE. Our Day 273 American by Birth, Author, London, England GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON. Pour La Patrie .... 275 American Novelist, Indiana and New York EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY. Sonnet 286 American Poet, Camden, Maine xxiv TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE GOUVERNEUR MORRIS. The Idiot 287 American Author, New York JAMES OPPENHEIM. Memories of Whitman and Lincoln . 299 American Poet, New York JAMES F. PRYOR. Bred to the Sea 304 American Lawyer and Writer EVALEEN STEIN. Our Defenders 306 American Poet and Story Teller, La Fayette, Indiana ALICE WOODS. The Bomb 308 American Story Writer MYRON T. HERRICK. To Those Who Go 322 American Statesman, Diplomatist, Publicist, Cleveland, Ohio AMELIE RIVES. The Hero's Peace *. ... 324 Princess Troubetzkoy, American Novelist and Poet, Virginia We gratefully acknowledge the privilege of reproducing the foUoicing articles : — "The Need of Force to Win and Maintain Peace," by Dr. C. W. Eliot — A^eu; York Times. " The Breaking Out of the Flags," by Amy Lowell — Independent. "The Bomb," by Alice Woods — Century Magazine. "Children of the War," by Louis Untermeyer — Collier's Weekly. All other contributions have been especially written for "The Defenders of Democracy." ILLUSTRATIONS CHILDE HASSAM. Allies' Day. From the Original Painting. (Color) Frontispiece American Artist, New York PORTRAIT. WooDROw Wilson, President of the United States vi PORTRAIT PHOTOGRAPH. His Eminence Cardinal Mercier Facing page 4 ALBERT STERNER. Sympathy. From the Original Drawing . 6 American Artist, New York PHOTOGRAPH. " The Happy Warriors." (Marshal Joffre AND General Pershing.) Courtesy of U Illustration, Paris 14 JULES GUERIN. Ballet by Moonlight. (Color) From the Original Painting 20 American Artist, New York JACQUIER. Marshal Joffre. Drawn from life 44 J. J. VAN INGEN. Memory. From the Original Drawing 52 American Artist, New York PORTRAIT PHOTOGRAPH. The Right Honourable Arthur James Balfour 66 CHARLES DANA GIBSON. Her Answer. From the Original sketch 126 American Artist, New York PORTRAIT PHOTOGRAPH. General Cadorna 132 WILLIAM DE LEFTWICH DODGE. From the Original Paintings in Oils (1) The Consecration of the Swords Cover design (2) Atlantic and Pacific. (Color) 140 (3) Gateway of All Nations. (Color) 160 American Artist, New York 0. E. CESARE. Russia's Struggle. From the Original Cartoon 168 American Artist, New York JOHN S. SARGENT. "Big Moon" (Black Foot Chief.) From the Original Drawing 192 American Painter, Boston, Mass. xxv xxvi ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE JOHN S. SARGENT. A Profile. From the Original Drawing Sketch 194 GEORGE BARNARD. Abraham Lincoln 196 American Sculptor, New York PORTRAIT IN OIL. Theodore Roosevelt. By George Bur- roughs Torrey 204 In the Brooklyn Museum PORTRAIT PHOTOGRAPH. Melville E. Stone 212 PENRHYN STANLWVS. Souvenir de Jel-n^esse. (Color) From Ike Original Pastel 220 Scotch Artist, New York PORTRAIT PHOTOGRAPH. Vice Admiral William Sowden Sims 224 PORTRAIT PHOTOGRAPH. General John J. Pershing 234 WALTER HALE. "Once the Giant Toy of a People who Frolicked." From the Original Water Color 244 American Artist, New York JOHN T. McCUTCHEON. The Married Slacker. From the Original Drawing 268 American Artist, Indiana W. ORLANDO ROULAND. Portrait of W. D. Howells. From the Original Painting 274 American Artist, New York GEORGE BELLOWS. The SHn>YARD. {Cohr) From the Original Oil Painting 304 American Artist, New York JOSEPH PENNELL. Dawn. From the Original Drawing ... 324 American Artist, New York We are grateful to The Beck Engr.*.\tng Co., of New York and Philadelphia, for furnishing the black-and-white reproductions without charge, and the four-color plates at cost. The Plimpton Press, of Norwood, Mass., for its cooperative assistance. The Walker Engraving Co., of New York, for supplying the color plates for the cover at cost. M. Knoedler & Co., of New York, for the privilege of reproducing Jacquier's drawing from life of Marechal JofFre. Frederick KLeppel & Co., of New York, for Mr. Pennell's drawing. DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY BELGIUM AND AMERICA IT would be a banality to speak about the gratitude of the Belgian people toward America. Every one knows from the beginning of the war that when the Belgians were faced with starvation, it was the American Commission for Relief which saved the situation, forming all over the country, in America and elsewhere, those Com- mittees who collected the funds raised to help the Belgians, and saw that they reached the proper channel and were utilized to the best advantage of the Belgian people. But helping to feed the people was not enough. The Americans did more. They gave their heart. Every one of them who came into my country to act as a volunteer for the Commission for Relief, brought with him the sympathy of all the people that were behind him. Every one of these young Americans, who, under the leadership of Mr. Hoover, came into my country to watch the distribution of the foodstuffs imported by the Commission for Relief, became a sincere friend of my countrymen. He stood be- tween us and the Germans as a vigilant sentry of the civilized world, and was able to tell when he returned to America all the sufferings and all the courage of the Belgian population. I remember traveling in America some ten years ago, and being asked, while I was reading a Belgian paper, where this paper came from and when I answered "It came from Belgium," the next ques- tion was: "Belgium? It is a province of France, isn't it?" Now I do not think that any person in America, nor in any other part of the world, will not know where Belgium is. The American Commission for Relief has to be credited with putting in closer contact the suffering population of my country with all persons the world over who were eager to assist it. It es- 4 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY pecially brought the sufferings of our people nearer to the heart of the American population. Every one knows that. But what every one does not know is the silent and effective work performed in Belgium by Mr. Brand Whitlock, the American Minister. He was the real man at the right place and at the right hour. No one could have better than he, with his deep humanitarian feeling, been able to understand the moral side of the sufferings of the Belgians under the German occupation. No one could better than he find, at the very moment when they were needed, the words appropriate to meet the circumstances, and to convey to the people of this stricken country the feelings which Mr. Whitlock knew were beating in the hearts of all Americans. When the German authorities forbade the display of the Bel- gian Flag, and the Tri-Color so dear to our hearts had to be hauled down, the American Flag everywhere took its place. Washington's birthday and Independence Day were almost as solemn festivities to the Brussels people as the fete Rationale, and thousands of per- sons called at the legation on those days ; deputations were sent by the town and official authorities to show how deep was the Belgian feeling for the United States. America was for the Belgians "w/ie second Patrie," because they felt that, although America was at that time remaining neutral, her sympathy was entirely on our side, and when the time would come she would even prove it on the battle- fields. It may therefore be said that although the war has had for my country the most cruel consequences, there is one consolation to it. It has shown that humanity is better than the pessimist had said it was, and that money is not the only god before which the nations bow. It has revealed that all over the world, and especially in America, there is a respect for right and for duty; it has proved that the moral beauty of an action is fully appreciated. The war /I y^^j^~,,^.j&. ^ y^'-^'-ey. «^ ^^^' (jfx BELGIUM— DE LEVAL 5 has revealed Belgium to America, and America to Belgium. The tie between our two countries is stronger than any tie has ever been between two far distant people, and nothing will be able to break it, as it rests not on some political interest or some selfish reason, but because it has been interwoven with the very fibers of the hearts of the people. Avocat la cour d'Appel de Bruxelles, Legal adviser to the American and British Legations in Belgium. 6 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY GOOD OLD BERNSTORFF! THE entrance of America in the war has been nothing short of a miracle — perhaps, with the Marne, the most wonderful miracle, among many others, which we have witnessed since August, 1914. I do not wish to be misunderstood. I am not necessarily re- ferring to supernatural influences. This will remain a matter of opinion — or rather of belief. I am merely speaking from the ordinary point of view of the man in the street concerning what is likely or not likely to happen in the world. People have very generously admired Belgium's attitude, but anybody knowing the Belgians and their King might have prophe- sied Liege, and the Yser battle. Others have praised the timely interference of England and the self-sacrifice of the many thou- sand British volunteers who rushed to arms, during the early days of the war, to avenge the wrong done to a small people whose only crime was to stand in the way of a blind and ruthless military machine. But such an attitude was too much in the tradition of British fair play to come as a surprise to those who knew inti- mately the country and the people. Besides, from the Govern- ment's point of view, non-intervention would have been a politi- cal mistake for which the whole nation would have had to pay dearly in the near future, as subsequent events have conclusively shown. But America? What had America to do in the conflict? She had not signed tlie treaties guaranteeing Belgium's neutrality. She was not directly threatened by German Imperialism. She had never taken any part in European politics. Her moral responsi- bility was not engaged and her immediate interest was to preserve V?*^*^ ^ ' j^^-^ ^^ SYMPATHY By Albert Sterner From fhe Original Drawing BELGIUM— CAMMAERTS 7 to the end all the advantages of neutrality and to benefit, after the war, by the exhaustion of Europe. . . . I had the opportunity of seeing, a few days ago, the second contingent of American troops marching through London on their way to France. The Belgian flag flew from our window and, as we cheered the men, some of them, recognizing the colors, waved their hand towards us. And as I watched their bright smile and remembered the eager interest shown by so many citizens of the States to Belgium's fate, and the deep indignation provoked beyond the Atlantic by the German atrocities and by the more recent deportations, I was inclined to think, for one moment, that I had solved the problem, and that their sympathy for Belgium had brought these soldiers to the rescue. We are so easily inclined to exaggerate the part which one country is playing! But as I looked at the men again, I was struck by the grim ex- pression on their faces, the almost threatening determination of their light swinging step. And I soon realized that neither their sympathy for England, France or Belgium had brought them here. They had not come merely to fight for other peoples, they had their own personal grievance. They were not there only to help their friends, but also to punish their enemies. As I turned in to resume my work, I heard a friend of mine who whispered, rubbing his hands: "Good old Bernstorff^! Kind old von Paepen! Blessed old Ludendorf !" And I understood that Germany had been our best champion, and that her plots, her intrigues, and her U boats had done more to convert America than our most eloquent denunciations. There is no neutrality possible in the face of lawlessness and Germanism. Sooner or later we feel that "he who is not with Him is against Him." And there is no compromise, no conciliation which might prevail against such feeling. /^ ^ 8 CHINA AND THE WAR IN EUROPE THE WAR IN EUROPE Translation of a part of an address by Mr. Tsa Yuan-Pei, Chancellor of the Gov- ernment University of Peking and formerly Minister of Education in the first Repub- lican Cabinet, delivered on March 3rd, 1917, at Peking before the "Wai Chiao Hou Yuan Hui," or a "Society for the Support of Diplomacy." I AM a scholar and not a practical politician. Therefore I can only give you my views as a man of letters. As I see it, the War in Europe is really one between Right and Might, or in other words, between Morality and Savagery. Our proverbs run to this effect: "Every one should sweep the snow in front of his door and leave alone the frost on the roof of his neighbor," and thai "when the neighbors are fighting, close your door." These prov- erbs have been used by the anti-war party in China as arguments against China's entrance into the War. The War in Europe, how- ever, is not the "frost on the roof of our neighbor," but rather the "snow right in front of our door." It is not a "fight between neigh- bors," but rather a quarrel within the family — the family of Na- tions. China therefore cannot remain indifferent. For, if Ger- many should eventually win the War, it would mean the triumph of Might over Right, and the world would be without moral prin- ciples. Should this occur, it would endanger the future of China. It is therefore necessary for China to cast her lot with the Right. Courtesy of Chinese Minister THE GREAT CAUSE— STERLING INVOCATION JDECAUSE of the decision of a few, — Because in half a score of haughty minds The night lay black and terrible, thy winds, Europe ! are a stench on heaven's blue. Thy scars abide, and here is nothing new: Still from the throne goes forth the dark that blinds, And still the satiated morning finds The unending thunder and the bloody dew. Shall night be lord forever, and not light? Look forth, tormented nations ! Let your eyes Behold this horror that the few have done! Then turn, strike hands, and in your burning might Impel the fog of murder from the skies, And sow the hearts of Europe with the sun! ^^Aj) u^tAx^Vtix LA Bohemian Club, San Francisco 1915 V 10 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY THE TEST IT HAS been my fortune to see something of the war with the army in France, and something also of what war means for those at home who, having sent out sons and brothers, are them- selves compelled to wait and watch. I have seen suffering be- yond imagination, pain, hardship and misery. I have seen anxiety and sorrow which I should have guessed beforehand men could not have borne without going mad. But I have also seen the human spirit rise to wonderful heights. Men and women have shown themselves greater, nobler, stronger than in the old days of peace I thought they could be. It would not be very astonishing if the strain of war had called forth a fresh greatness in those whose lives were already seen to be in some way great; in our leaders, our teachers, our thinkers. Or if an added nobility had appeared in our aristocracies of birth, intellect, education, wealth, or whatever other accidents set men above the mass of their fellows. Of such we expect a great re- sponse to a great demand. And we have not been disappointed. The old rule of life. Noblesse Oblige, has proved that it still pos- sesses driving force with the most of those to whom it applies. The thing which has amazed me is the greatness of the common man. This I in no way expected or looked for. I confess that, before the war, I was no believer in the great qualities of those who are called "the people." They seemed to me to be living lives either selfish, sometimes brutal, always sordid ; or else mean, narrow, and circumscribed by senseless conventions. I believed that society, if it progressed at all, would be forced forward by the few, that the many had not in them the qualities necessary for advance, were THE GREAT CAUSE— BIRMINGHAM 11 incapable of the far visions which make advance desirable. I know now that I was wrong, and I have come to the faith that the hope of the future is in the common people who have shown them- selves great. So, I suppose, I may contribute to a book with such a title as '"The Defenders of Democracy." For now I am sure that democ- racy has promise and hope in it. Only I am not sure that democ- racy has even begun to understand itself. The common people have displayed virtues so great that those who have seen them unite in a chorus of praise. Their leaders, elected persons, guides chosen by votes and popular acclamation, have shown in a hun- dred ways that they will not, dare not, trust the people. Our silly censorships, our concealments of unpleasant truths, our suppres- sion of criticism, our galling infringements of personal liberty, witness to the fact that authority distrusts the source from which it sprang; that the leaders of our democracy reckon the common people unfit to know, to think or to act. If we are defending democracy we are sacrificing liberty. Will you, in America, do better in this respect than we have done? You believed in the common people before England did. You believe in them, if we may trust your words, more completely than England does. Do you believe in them sufficiently to trust them? Or do you think that democracy can be defended only after it has been blindfolded, hand-cuffed and gagged? This is what you have got to show the world. No one doubts that you can fight. No one doubts that you will fight, with all your strength, as England is fighting. What we wonder is whether your great principle of government, by the people and for the people, will stand the test of a war like this. 12 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY THE NEW COMRADESHIP DEMOCRACY is the outward and visible sign that a nation recognizes its own needs and aspirations. Democracy wells up from the very pit of things. Its value is its foundation in actuality, its concordance with the slow unending process of man's evolution from the animal he was. Democracy, for one with any comic and cosmic animal sense, is the only natural form of govern- ment, because alone it recognizes States as organisms, with spon- taneous growth, and a free will of their own. Democracy is final; other forms of government are but steps on the way to it. It is the big thing, because it can and does embody and make use of Aristocracy. It is the rule of the future, because all human prog- ress gradually tends to recognition of God in man, and not outside of him; to the establishment of the humanistic creed, and the belief that we have the future in our own hands. In life at large, whom does one respect — the man who gropes and stumbles upward to control of his instincts, and full develop- ment of his powers, confronting each new darkness and obstacle as it arises; or the man who shelters in a cloister, and lives by rote and rules hung up for him by another in his cell? The first man lives, the second does but exist. So it is with nations. The American and the Englishman are fundamentally demo- cratic because they are fundamentally self-reliant. Each demands to know why he should do a thing before he does it. This is, I think, the great link between two peoples in many ways very dif- ferent; and they who ardently desire abiding friendship between our two countries will do well never to lose sight of it. Any sap- ping of this quality of self-reliance, or judging for oneself, in either country, any undermining of the basis of democracy will imperil THE GREAT CAUSE— GALSWORTHY 13 our new-found comradeship. You in America have before all things to fear the warping power of great Trusts; we in England to dread the paralyzing influence of Press groups. We have both to beware of the force which the pressure of a great war inevitably puts into the hands of Military Directorates. We are for the time being hardly democracies, even on the surface; the democratic machinery still exists, but is so ungeared by Censorship and Uni- versal Service, that probably it could not work even if it wanted to. We are now in the nature of business concerns, run by Directors safe in office till General Meetings, which cannot be held till after the War. But I am not greatly alarmed. When the War is over, the pendulum will swing back; the individual conscience which is our guarantee for democracy and friendship will come into its own again, and shape our destinies in common towards freedom and humanity. The English-speaking democracies, in firm union, can and ought to be the unshifting ballast of a better world. ^/rk.Ka/uur^7i^ 14 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY QUESTIONINGS I HAVE a brilliant idea which, without any parade of modesty, I hereby commend to the notice of the American, French and British Governments. Let them get together as soon as may be and give us an authoritative definition of Democracy. Then we shall know where, collectively, we are. Of course you may say that it has been defined for all time by Abraham Lincoln. But thrilling in its clear simplicity as his slogan epigram may be, a complex political and social system cannot be fully dealt with in fifteen words. I thought I knew what it was until a tidy few millions of friends and myself were knocked silly by recent events in Russia. Here, where the privates of a regiment hold a mass meeting and discuss for hours an order to advance to the relief of sorely pressed comrades and decide not to obey it, and eventually throw down their rifles and with a mens conscia recti, proudly run away, we have Democracy with a vengeance. Not one of the Defenders of Democracy who are writing in this book would stand for it a second. Nor would they stand for the slobbering maniacs who yearn to throw themselves into the arms of the Germans, and, with the kiss of peace and universal brotherhood, kiss away their brothers' blood from their blood-smeared faces. Nor would they stand entirely for those staunch democrats who, inspired with a burning sense of human wrongs but with none of proportion or humor, would sacrifice vital interests of humanity in general for the transient amelioration of the lot of a particular section of the community. For years these visionaries told us that every penny spent on army or navy was a robbery of the working-man. We yielded him many pennies; but alas, they now have to be repaid in blood. "THE HAPPY WARRIORS" THE GREAT CAUSE— LOCKE 15 America has joined the civilized world in the struggle against the surviving systems of medieval barbarism in Europe that have been permitted to exist under the veneer of civilization. She sees clearly what she has to destroy. So do we. No American and Englishman can meet but that they grip hands and thank God together that they are comrades in this Holy War. They are out, like Knights of Fable, to rid the earth of a pestilential monster; and they will not rest until their foot is on his slain monster's head. Which is, by Heaven! a glorious and soul-uplifting enterprise. In it the blood of the lowliest is as the blood of the Martyrs, rising to God. But with this difference: the Martyrs died for a con- structive scheme — that of Christianity. What is the construc- tive scheme for which we are dying? It is easy to say the Democratization of Mankind. It is a matter of common assent that this consummation is ardently desired by the Royal Family of England, by enlightened Indian Princes, by the philanthropists of America, by the French artist, by the Roumanian peasant, by the howling syndicalist in South Wales, by the Belgian socialist, by the eager soul in the frail body who is at the helm of storm- tossed Russia to-day, by the Montenegrin mountaineer, by the Sydney Larrikin yelling down conscription, by millions of units belonging to the civilized nations of such social and racial diver- gence that the mind is staggered by the conception of them all fighting under one banner. But are we sure they are all fighting for the same thing? If they're not, there will be the deuce to pay all over the terrestrial globe, even with a crushed Central European militarism. Therefore, with the same absence of modesty I cry for an author- itative crystallization of the democratic aims of the civilized world. England and France have groped their way through centuries 16 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY towards a vague ideal. America proudly began her existence by a proclamation of the equal rights of man. She proudly pro- claims them now; but the world is involved in such a complicated muddle, that the utterances of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln (to say nothing of their intellectual and political ancestor Jean Jacques Rousseau) require amplification. The political thought of the older nations of Europe is tired out. It is for the fresher genius of America to lead them towards the solution of the greatest problem which has ever faced mankind: — the final, constructive and all-satisfying definition of the myriadwise inter- preted word Democracy. /VY THE GREAT CAUSE— VAN DYKE 17 DEMOCRACY IN PEACE AND WAR DEMOCRACY is by nature a lover of peace. That is the state which it regards as the normal condition of human life, and in which it seeks its best rewards and triumphs by the organiza- tion of the common effort of all citizens for the common welfare. But while democracy is pacific in its desires and aims, it is not a "pacifist." It is willing and able, though not always at the mo- ment ready, to take up arms in self-defense. In its broadening vision of a fraternity of mankind, which shall be in the good fu- ture not only intranational but also international, it is willing also to fight for the safety of its principles everywhere, and for the security of all the peoples in a true and orderly liberty. That is the position of the democracy of the United States of America to-day. As in peace, so in war, the success of the democratic effort de- pends upon the fulness of the cooperation between all classes and conditions of men and women. Those men who are fit for mili- tary service on land or sea must render it willingly and to the ut- most of their strength. Those who by reason of age or weakness cannot undertake that service without danger of becoming a bur- den to the fighting forces, must work to sustain the army and the fleet of freedom. "If any man will not work neither let him eat." The women also must do their part, since they are citizens just as much as the men. They must undertake those tasks of indus- try of which they are capable and thus relieve the need of labor in all fields. Above all they must give themselves to those tasks of mercy for which they have a natural aptitude. And through all they must give sympathy, inspiration, and courage to the men who fight for Liberty and Democracy. 18 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY SUNRISE OVER THE PERISTYLE "Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free." J_jOOK! we shall know the truth — it is thy word; The truth, Lord — shining, invincible, Unawed. And shall we love it, Lord, like this. This half -dark flushing with the wondrous hope? How can we love it more? Sweet is the hush Brimming the dim void world, soothing the beat Of the great-hearted lake that lies unlit Beyond that silver portal. Peace is here In moony palaces that rose for her Pale, lustrous — it is well with her to dwell. The truth — will not these phantom fabrics fail Under the fierce white fire — yes, float away Like mists that wanly rise and choke the wind? So merciless is truth — how shall we live And bear the glare? Now rosily smiles the earth, And bold young couriers climb the slope of heaven, With gaudy flags aflare. The towered clouds. Lofty, impregnable, are captured now — Their turrets flame with banners. Who abides Under the smooth wide rim of the worn world That the high heavens should hail him like a king — Even like a lover? If it be the Truth, Ah, shall our souls wake with the triumph. Lord? AN INTERLUDE— MONROE 19 Shall we be free according to thy word, Brave to yield all? Look! will it come like this — A vivid glory burning at the gate Over the sudden verge of golden waves? The tall white columns stand like seraphim With high arms locked for song. The city lies Pearled like the courts of heaven, waiting the tread Of souls made wise with joy. Why should we fear? The Truth — ah, let it come to test the dream; Give us the Truth, Lord, that in its light The world may know thy will, and dare be free. 20 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY REMINISCENCES OF BOOTH FEW of the younger people of the present generation know, by personal experience, how nobly and incomparably Edwin Booth enriched the modem stage with his vivid portraitures of Shakespearean characters. The tragic fervor, the startling pas- sion, and the impressive dignity with which he invested his various roles, have not been equaled, I daresay, by any actor on the English speaking stage since the days of Garrick and Kean. He had a voice that vibrated with every mood, and a mien, despite his short stature, that gave a lofty dignity to every part that he played. But Booth as himself was a simple, modest, amiable human being. Many of us younger men came to know him in a personal way, when he established in New York City the Players' Club, which he dedicated to the dramatic profession, and which is now a splendid and permanent monument to his fame and generosity. I saw him frequently and had many chats with him. When I undertook the management of E. H. Sothem, he was very much interested because he knew young Sothern's father, the original Lord Dundreary; so, when Mr. Sothem appeared in the first play under my management, "The Highest Bidder," I invited Mr. Bootli to witness the performance. He expressed his delight at seeing his old friend's son doing such delightful work, and the three of us afterwards met at a little supper at the Players'. He told us that he came nearly being the Godfather of young Sothem, and that he was to have been called "Edwin" after himself; but the reason why his name was changed to "Edward," he explained, was as follows: When young Sothem was bom in New Orleans, the elder Sothem telegraphed Booth, asking him to stand as Godfather to his boy, but Booth did not wish to take the responsibility, doubtless for ^lOCRA' r ! generation know, by =ncomp >i. .iiug pas- -' hiVi'?XeA his various on the English .8 of Garrick and Kean. He had a i'ViTy inood, ati'l a mien, d BALLET BY MOONLIGHT By Jules Gmr in . : i .. ; «, From the Original Painting ■/y nuu;!! ...c original die j&rst piay led Mr. Booth at seeing • 1 UVdl THE DRAMA^FROHMAN 21 reasons of his own, and so his name was changed to "Edward"; but he confessed that it was a matter he greatly regretted. He told us many stories of his early career as an actor, one of which I remember as a very amusing experience on the part of the elder actor when on his way to Australia. Mr. Booth had an engage- ment to play in that distant section, and with five members, the nucleus of a company, started from San Francisco. They had occasion to stop at Honolulu en route. The stop there being longer than originally anticipated, and the news of his arrival having spread. King Kamehameha sent a request that he give a performance of "Richard HI" in the local theater. In spite of managerial diffi- culties, Booth (being then a young man, ardent and ambitious) sought to give a semblance with the scanty material at hand, of a fair performance. He had to secure the cooperation of members of the local amateur company. The best he was enabled to do for the part of Queen Elizabeth was an actor, short in stature, defec- tive in speech and accent, but earnest in temperament, whom he cast for this eminent role. The other parts were filled as best he could, and the principals with him enabled Mr. Booth to give some semblance of a decent performance. In order to properly adver- tise the event, he secured the assistance of several Hawaiians, and furnished them with a paste made out of their native product called "poi." He discovered later, to his amazement, that not a bill had been posted, and that the "poi," being a valuable food article, had been appropriated by the two individuals, who decamped. Mr. Booth, with his colleagues, then personally posted the town with the bills of the impending performance. On the evening the house was crowded. The King occupied a seat in the wings, there being no place for him in the hall. When the throne scene was to be set for the play, word was sent to His Majesty humbly asking the loan of the throne chair, which he then occupied, for use in the 22 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY scene — a favor which His Royal Highness readily granted. At the end of the performance, word was brought to Booth that the King wished to see him. Booth, shy and modest as he was, and feeling that he could not speak the language, or that His Royal Highness could not speak his, approached His Majesty timidly. The latter stepped forward, slapped the actor heartily on the back and said: "Booth, this is as fine a performance as I saw your father give twenty years ago." The question as to whether an actor should feel his part or control his emotions, has been an argument which has interested the dra- matic profession for many years, since it was first promulgated by the French writer Diderot, and afterwards ably discussed by Henry Irving and Coquelin. Of course, we all feel that no matter how violent the actor's stress of emotion is, he must control his re- sources with absolute restraint and poise. Sometimes, however, an actor feels he is under the sway of his part in an unusual degree and comes to the conviction, through his excitement, that he has given a greater performance than usual. So Booth, one night at his own theater, seeing his beloved daughter in a box, and desiring to impress her with his work, played with, as he felt, a degree of emotion that made him realize that he had given an unusually powerful interpretation. At the end of the play, his daughter ran back to him and said: "Why, dad, what is the matter with you?" And Booth, awaiting her approval, said: "Matter?" "Why you gave the worst performance I ever witnessed," she said. This con- trol of one's resources and the check upon one's feelings was indi- cated at another time during a performance of Booth, of "Riche- lieu," as told to me by the actor's friend, the late Laurence Hutton, the writer. Mr. Hutton and Mr. Booth were sitting in the latter's dressing room at Booth's Theater. Booth was, as usual, smoking his beloved pipe. When he heard his cue, he arose, and walked THE DRAMA— FROHMAN 23 with Hutton to the prompter's entrance, where, giving his pipe to his friend, said: "Larry, will you keep the pipe going until I come off?" Booth entered on the scene; then came the big mo- ment in the play when the nobles and the weak King had assembled to defy the power of the Cardinal; and Richelieu launches (as Booth always did with thrilling effect) the terrifying curse of Rome — a superb bit of oratorical eloquence. At the conclusion, the house shouted its wild and demonstrative approval, and when the curtain dropped on this uproar for the last time. Booth approached Hutton at the prompter's entrance saying, in his usual quiet voice: "Is the pipe still going, Larry?" No actor we have ever known has inspired so much genuine affec- tion — I may say almost idolatry — as the simple Edwin Booth aroused in the hearts of his friends and his fellow-workers. In the beautiful Players' Club House, which he bequeathed to the dramatic profession, he presented also his own valuable theatrical library, numbering several thousand memorable works on the stage ; and no one event greater than this gift to his fellow-players has ever occurred in the dramatic profession. 24 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY GOD OF MY FAITH A Play for Pacifists IN One Act "// the God of my Faith be a liar IF ho is it that I shall trust?" THE PEOPLE IN THE PLAY Nelson Dartrey Dermod Gilruth The action passes in Dartrey's Chambers in the late Spring of Nineteen Hundred and Fifteen. {The lowering of the Curtain momentarily will denote the passing of several days.) THE DRAMA— MANNERS 25 GOD OF MY FAITH The curtain discloses a dark oak room. Nelson Dartrey is seated at a writing table studying maps. He is a man in the early thirties, prematurely worn and old. His face is burned a deep brick color and is sharpened by fatigue and loss of blood. His hair is sparse, dry and turning gray. Around the upper part of his head is a bandage covered largely by a black skull-cap. Of over average height the man is spare and muscular. The eye is keen and penetrating; his voice abrupt and authoritative. An occasional flash of humor brings an old-time twinkle to the one and heartiness to the other. He is wearing the undress uniform of a major in the British army. The door bell rings. With an impatient ejaculation he goes into the passage and opens the outer door. Standing outside cheerfully humming a tune is a large, forceful, breezy young man of twenty-eight. He is Dermod Gilruth. Splendid in physique, charming of manner, his slightly-marked Dublin accent lends a piquancy to his conversation. He has all the ease and poise of a traveled, polished young man of breeding. Dartrey's face brightens as he holds out a welcoming hand. DARTREY Hello, Gil. GILRUTH (Saluting him as he laughs genially) May I come into officers' quarters? DARTREY I'm glad to have you. I'm quite alone with hours on my hands. {He brings Gilruth into the room and wheels a comfortable leather arm chair in front of him) Sit down. GILRUTH Indeed I will not. Look at your desk there. I'll not interrupt your geography for more than a minute. DARTREY (Forces him into the chair) I'm glad to get away from it. Why, you look positively boyish. 26 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY GILRUTH And why not? I am a boy. (Chuckles) DARTREY What are you so pleased with yourself about? GILRUTH The greatest thing in the world for youth and high-spirits. I'm going to be married next week. DARTREY (Incredulously) You're not? I tell you I am. Don't be silly. What's silly about it? Oh, I don't know. GILRUTH Of course you don't know. You've never tried it. DARTREY I should think not. GILRUTH Well, I'm going to and I want you to father me. Stand up beside me and see me through. Will you? DARTREY If you want me to. GILRUTH DARTREY GILRUTH DARTREY THE DRAMA— MANNERS 27 GILRUTH Well, I do want you to. DARTREY All right. GILRUTH You don't mind now? DARTREY My dear chap. It's charming of you to think of me. GILRUTH I've known you longer than any one over here. And I like you better. So there you are. DARTREY {Laughing) Poor old Dermod! Well, well! GILRUTH There's nothing to laugh at, or "well, well" about. DARTREY Do I know the — ? GILRUTH (Shakes his head) She's never been over before. Everything will be new to her. I tell you it's going to be wonderful. I've planned out the most delightful trip through Ireland — she's Irish, too. DARTREY Is she? GILRUTH But, like me, bom in America. She's crazy to see the old country. 28 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY DARTREY She couldn't have a better guide. GILRUTH (Enthusiastically) She's beautiful, she's brilliant: she's good — she's everything a man could wish. DARTREY That's the spirit. Will you make your home over here? GILRUTH No. We'll stay till the autumn. Then I must go back to America. But some day when all this fighting is over and people talk of something besides killing each other I want to have a home in Ireland. DARTREY I suppose most of you Irishmen in America want to do that? GILRUTH Indeed they do not. Once they get out to America and do well they stay there and become citizens. My father did. Do you think he'd live in Ireland now? Not he. He talks all the time about Ireland and the hated Sassenachs — that's what he calls you English — and he urges the fellows at home in the old country to fight for their rights. But since he made his fortune and became an American citizen the devil a foot has he ever put on Irish soil. He's always going, but he hasn't got there yet. And as for living there? Oh, no, America is good enough for him, because his interests are there. I want to live in Ireland because my heart is there. So was my poor mother's. THE DRAMA— MANNERS 29 (Springing up) Now I'm off. You don't know how happy you make me by promising to be my best man. DARTREY My dear fellow — GILRUTH And just wait until you see her. Eyes you lose yourself in. A voice soft as velvet. A brain so nimble that wit flows like music from her tongue. Poetry too. She dances like thistle- down and sings like a thrush. And with all that she's in love with me. DARTREY I'm delighted. GILRUTH I want her to meet you first. A snug little dinner before the wed- ding. She's heard so much against the English I want her to see the best specimen they've got. (Dartrey laughs heartily) I tell you if you pass muster with her you have the passport to Kingdom Come. (Laughing as well as he grips Dartrey's hand) Good-by. DARTREY (As they walk to the door) When will it be? GILRUTH Next Tuesday. I'll ring you up and give you the full particulars. DARTREY In church? 30 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY GILRUTH Church! Cathedral! His Eminence will officiate. DARTREY Topping. GILRUTH Well, you see, we Irish only marry once. So we make an occasion of it. DARTREY Splendid. I'll look forward to it. GILRUTH (Looking at the bandage) Is your head getting all right? DARTREY Oh, dear, yes. It's quite healed up. I'll have this thing off in a day or two. (Touching the bandage) I expect to be back in a few weeks. GILRUTH (Anxiously) Again? DARTREY Yes. GILRUTH If ever a man had done his share, you have. DARTREY They need me. They need us all. GILRUTH The third time. THE DRAMA— MANNERS 31 DARTREY There are many who have done the same. GILRUTH (Shudders) How long will it last? DARTREY Until the Hun is beaten. GILRUTH Years, eh? DARTREY It looks like it. We've hardly begun yet. It will take a year to really get the ball rolling. Then things will happen. Tell me. How do they feel in America? Frankly. GILRUTH All the people who matter are pro-Ally. DARTREY Are you sure? GILRUTH I'm positive. Are you? Come, now. Why, of course I am. DARTREY They may be pro-Ally, but they're not pro-English. GILRUTH That's true. Many of them are not. But if ever the test comes, they will be. DARTREY GILRUTH 32 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY DARTREY (Shakes his head doubtfully) I wonder. It seems a pity not to bury all the Bunker-Hill and Boston-tea-chest prejudices. GILRUTH You're right there. DARTREY Why your boys and girls are taught in their school-books to hate us. GILRUTH In places they are. Now that I know the English a little I have been agitating to revise them. It all seems so damned cheap and petty for a big country to belittle a great nation through the mouth of children. DARTREY There's no hatred like family hatred. After all we're cousins, speaking the same tongue and with pretty much the same outlook. GILRUTH There's one race in America that holds back as strongly as it can any better understanding between the two countries, and that's my race — the Irish. And well I know it. I was brought up on it. There are men to-day, men of position too, in our big cities who have openly said they want to see England crushed in this war. DARTREY So I've heard. It would be a sorry day for the rest of civilization, and particularly America, if we were. THE DRAMA— MANNERS 33 GILRUTH You can't convince them of that. They carry on the prejudices and hatred of generations. I have accused some of them of being actively pro-German; of tinkering with German money to foster revolution in Ireland. DARTREY Do you believe that? GILRUTH I do. Thank God there are not many of them. I have accused them of taking German money and then urging the poor un- fortunate poets and dreamers to do the revolting while they are safely three thousand miles away. I don't know of many who are willing to cross the water and do it themselves. Talk- ing and writing seditious articles is safe. Take my own father. He says frankly that he doesn't want Germany to win because he hates Germans. Most Irishmen do. Besides they've done my father some very dirty tricks. But all the same he wants to see England lose. All the doubtful ones I know, who don't dare come out in the open, speak highly of the French and are silent when English is mentioned. I blame a great deal of that on your Government. You take no pains to let the rest of the world know what England is doing. You and I know that without the British fleet America wouldn't rest as easy as she does to-day, and without the little British army the Huns would have been in Paris and Calais months ago. We know that, and so do many others. But the great mass of the people, particularly the Irish, cry all the time, "What is England doing?" Your government should see to it that they know what she's doing. 34 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY DARTREY It's not headquarters' way. GILRUTH I know it isn't. And the more's the pity. Another thing where you went all wrong. Why not have let Asquith clear up the Irish muddle? Why truckle to a handful of disloyal North of Ireland traitors? If the Government had court martialed the ring-leaders, tried the rest for treason and put the Irish Government in Dublin, why, man, three-quarters of the male population of the South of Ireland would be in the trenches now. DARTREY Don't let us get into that. I was one of the officers who mutinied. I would rather resign my commission than shoot down loyal subjects. GILRUTH (Hotly) Loyal? Loyal! When they refused to carry out their Govern- ment's orders? When they deny justice to a long suffering people? Loyal! Don't prostitute the word. DARTREY (Angrily) I don't want to — GILRUTH (Going on vehemently) It's just that kind of pig-headed ignorance that has kept the two countries from understanding each other. Why shouldn't Ire- land govern herself. South Africa does. Australia does. And when you're in trouble they leap to your flag. Yet there is a country a few miles from you that sends the best of her people to your professions and they invariably get to the top THE DRAMA— MANNERS 35 of them. Irishmen have commanded your armies and Ire- land has given you admirals for your fleet and at least one of us has been your Lord Chief Justice. Yet, by God, they can't be trusted to govern themselves. I tell you the English treat- ment of Ireland makes her the laughing-stock of the world. DARTREY {Opens the door, then turns and looks straight at Gilruth) My head bothers me. Will you kindly — GILRUTH (All contrition) I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to blaze out. Do forgive me like a good fellow. It's an old sore of mine and sometimes it makes me wince. It did just now. Don't be mad with me. (The sound of a boy's voice calling newspapers is heard faintly m the distance; then the hoarse tones of a man shouting indistinctly; then a chorus of men and boys comes nearer and nearer calling of some calamity. Dartrey hurries out through the outer door. Gilruth stands ashamed. He does not want to leave his friend in bad blood. He would like to put things right before going. He waits for Dartrey to come back. In a few moments Dartrey walks through the outer doorway and into the room. He is very white, very agitated and his face is set and determined. He is reading a special edition of an evening paper with great "scare" head lines. The sound of the voices crying the news in the street groivs fainter and fainter. Dartrey stops in front of Gilruth and tries to speak; nothing coherent comes from his lips. He thrusts the paper into GilrutKs hands and watches his face as he reads. Gilruth reads it once slowly, then rapidly. He stands immovable staring at the news-sheet. It slips from his fingers and he cowers down, stooping at the shoulders, glaring at the floor.) DARTREY (Almost frenzied) Now will your country come in? Now will they fight for civiliza- tion? A hundred of her men, women and children done to death. Is that war? Or is it murder? Already men are reading in New York and Washington of the sinking of that 36 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY ship and the murder of their people. What are they going to do? What are you going to do? GILRUTH [Creeps unsteadily to the door; standing himself with a hand on the lock; his back is to the room. He speaks in a strange, far-off, quavering voice) She was on the Lusitania! Mona. She was on it. Mona was on it. {Creeps out through the street door and disappears) (Dartrey looks after him) {The curtain falls and rises again in a few moments. Several days have elapsed. Dartrey, in full uniform, is busily packing his regimental kit. The bandage has been removed from his head. The telephone bell rings. Dartrey answers it) DARTREY Yes. Yes. Who is it? Oh! Do. Yes. No. Not at all. Come up. All right. {Replaces the receiver and continues packing) {In a few moments the door-bell rings. Dartrey opens the outer door and brings GiLRUTH into the room. He is in deep mourning; is very white and broken. He seems grievously ill. Dartrey looks at him commiseratingly. He is sensi- tive about speaking) GILRUTH {Faintly) Put up with me for a bit? Will you? {Dartrey fust puts his hand on the man's shoulder) {Gilruth sinks wearily and lifelessly into a chair) She is buried. DARTREY What? GILRUTH {Nods) She is buried. In Kensal Green. Half an hour ago. DARTREY (In a whisper) They found her? THE DRAMA— MANNERS 37 GILRUTH {Nods again) Picked up by some fishermen. DARTREY Queenstown? GILRUTH A few miles outside. I went there that night and stayed there until — until she — they found her. {Covers his face. Dartrey puts his arm around him and presses his shoulder) I wandered round there for days. Wasn't so bad while it was light. People to talk to. All of us on the same er- rand. Searching. Searching. Searching. Hoping — some of them. I didn't. I knew from the first. I knew. It was horrible at night alone. I had to try and sleep sometimes. They'd wake me when the bodies were brought in. Hers came toward dawn one morning. Three little babies, all twined in each others arms, lying next to her. Three little babies. Cruel that. Wasn't it? {Waits as he thinks; then he goes on dully; evenly, with no emotion) Fancy! She'd been out in that water for days and nights. All alone. Tossed about. Days and nights. She! who'd never hurt a soul. Couldn't. She was always laughing and happy* Drifting about. All alone. Quite peaceful she looked. Except — except — {Covers his eyes and groans. In a little while he looks up at Dartrey and touches his left eye) This. Gone. Gulls. (Dartrey draws his breath in sharply and turns a little away) In a few hours the cuts opened. The salt-water had kept them closed. 38 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY DARTREY Cuts? GILRUTH (Nods) Her head. And her face. Cuts. Blood after all that time. (He clenches and unclenches his hands nervously and furiously. He gets up slowly, walks over to the fireplace, shivers, then braces himself trying to shake off the horror of his thoughts. Then he begins to speak brokenly and trem- blingly endeavoring to moisten his lips with a dry tongue) Never saw anything to equal the kindness of those poor peasants. They gave the clothes from their bodies; the blankets from their beds. And took nothing. Not a thing. "We're all in this," they said. "We're doing our best, it's little enough." That's what they said. Pretty fine the Irish of Queenstown. Eh? (Dartrey nods. He does not trust himself to speak) A monument. That's what the Irish peasants of Queenstown should have. A monument. Never slept, some of them. Wrapped the soaking women in their shawls — and the little children. Took off their wet things and gave them dry, warm ones. Fed them with broths they cooked themselves. Spent their poor savings on brandy for them. Stripped the clothes off their own backs for them to travel in when they were well enough to go. And wouldn't take a thing. Great people the Irish of Queenstown. Nothing much the matter with them. A monument. That's what they should have. And poetry. (Thinks for a while, then goes on) Laid out the bodies too; just as reverently as if they were their own people. They laid her out. And prayed over her. And watched with me over her until she was put into the . Such a tiny little shell it was, too. She had no father or mother or brothers or sisters. I was all she had. That's THE DRAMA^MANNERS 39 why I buried her here. Kensal Green. She'll rest easy there. (He walks about distractedly. Suddenly he stops and with his hands extended upwards as if in prayer, he cries) Out of my depths I cry to Thee. I call on you to curse them. Curse the Prussian brutes made in Your likeness, but with hearts as the lowest of beasts. Curse them. May their hopes wither. May everything they set their hearts on rot. Send them pestilence, disease and every foul torture they have visited on Your people. Send the Angel of Death to rid the earth of them. May their souls bum in hell for all eternity (Quickly to Dartrey) and if there is a god they will. But is there a good God that such things can be and yet no sign from Him? Listen. I didn't believe in war. I reasoned against it. I shouted for Peace. And thousands of cravens like me. I thought God was using this universal slaughter for a purpose. When His end was accomplished He would cry to the warring peoples "Stop!" It was His will, I thought, that out of much evil might come permanent good. That was my faith. It has gone. How can there be a good God to look down on His people tortured and maimed and butchered? The women, whose lives were devoted to Him, defiled. His temples looted, filled with the filth of the soldiery, and then destroyed. And yet no sign. Oh, no. My faith is gone. Now I want to murder and torture and massacre the foul brutes. . . . I'm going out, Dartrey. In any way. Just a private. I'll dig, carry my load, eat their rations. Vermin: mud: ache in the cold and scorch in the heat. I will welcome it. Anything to stop the gnawing here, and the throbbing here. 40 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY {Beating at his head and heart) Anything to find vent for my hatred. (Moving restlessly about) I'm going through Ireland first. Every town and village. It's our work now. It's Irishmen's work. All the Catholics will be in now. No more "conscientious-objecting." They can't. It's a war on women and little children. All right. No Irish- Catholic will rest easy ; eat, sleep and go his days round after this. The call has gone out. America too. She'll come in. You watch. She can't stay out. She's founded on Liberty. She'll fight for it. You see. It's clean against unclean. Red blood against black filth. Carrion. Beasts. Swine. (Drops into a chair mumbling incoherently. Takes a long breath; looks at Dartrey) I'm selling out everything back home. DARTREY Why? GILRUTH I'm not going back. I'm bringing everything over here. Eng- land, France, Russia, Belgium, Serbia — they can have it. All of it. They've suffered. Only now do I know how much. Only now. (Fiercely) I want to tear them — tear them as they've torn me. As they mangled her. (Grits his teeth and claws with his fingers) Tear them — that's what I want to do. May I live to do it. May the war never end until every dirty Prussian is rotting in his grave. Then a quick end for me, too. I've nothing now. Nothing. (Gets up again wearily and dejectedly; all the blazing passion burnt out mo- mentarily) THE DRAMA— MANNERS 41 This was to have been my wedding-day; our wedding-day. Now she's lying there, done to death by Huns. A few days ago all youth and freshness and courage and love. Lying dis- figured in her little coffin. I know what you meant now by wanting to go back for the third time. I couldn't understand it the other day. It seemed that every one should hate war. But you've seen them. You know them. And you want to destroy them. That's it. Destroy. . . . The call is all over the world by now. Civilization will be in arms. ... To hell with your Pacifists. It's another name for cowards. They'd lose those nearest them: the honor of their women; the liberty of their people — and never strike a blow. To hell with them. It's where they should be. I was one of them. No more. Wherever I meet them I'll spit in their faces. They disgrace the women they were born of; the country they claim. . . . To hell with them. DARTREY (Tries to soothe him) You must try and get some grip on yourself. GILRUTH (His fingers ceaselessly locking and unlocking) I'll be all right. It's a relief to talk to you. (Sees the preparations for Dartrey's departure) Are you off? DARTREY Yes. To-night. GILRUTH I envy you now. I wish I were going. But I will soon. Ireland first. I must have my say there. What will the "Sinn Fein- ers" say to the Lusitania murder? I want to meet some of 42 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY them. What are our wrongs of generations to this horror? All humanity is at stake here. I'll talk to them. I must. They'll have to do something now or go down branded through the generations as Pro-German. Can a man have a worse epitaph? No decent Irishman will bear that; every loyal Irishman must loathe them. . . . I'll talk to them — soul to soul. . . . Sorry, Dartrey. You have your own sorrow. . . . Good of you to put up with me. Now I'll go. . . . {Goes to door, stops, takes out wallet) Just one thing. If it won't bother you. (Tapping some papers) I've mentioned you here. ... If I don't come through — see to a few things for me. Will you? They're not much. Will you? Of course I will. DARTREY GILRUTH (Simply) Thank you. You've always been decent to me. . . . Dartrey. To-day! You would have been my best man — and she's — DARTREY (Shaking him by the shoulders) Come, my man. Pull up. GILRUTH I will. I'll be all right. In a little while I'll be along out there. I hope I serve under you. (Grips his hand) Good-by. DARTREY Keep in touch with me. THE DRAMA—MANNERS 43 GILRUTH All right. {Passes out, opens and closes the outer door behind him and disappears in the street. Dartrey resumes his preparations) THE END OF THE PLAY 44 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY TO FRANCE FOR THE third time in history it has fallen to the lot of France to stem the Barbarian tide. Once before upon the Mame, -Stius with a Gallic Army stopped the Hun under Attila. Three hundred years later Charles Martel at Tours saved Europe from becoming Saracen, just as in September, 1914, more than eleven centuries later. General Joffre with the citizen soldiery of France upon that same Mame saved Europe from the heel of the Prus- sianized Teuton, the reign of brute force and the religion of the Moloch State. These were among the world's "check battles." Yet the flood of barbarism was only checked at the Marne, not broken; again the flood arose and pressed on to be stopped once more at Verdun — the Gateway of France — in the greatest of human conflicts yet seen. America was a spectator, but not an indiff^erent one. Once again mere momentary material interest counseled abstention; precedent was invoked to justify isolation and indiff"erence. The timid, the ignorant, the disloyal, those to whom physical life was more pre- cious than the dictates of conscience, counseled "peace and pros- perity." Many began to wonder if America had a soul and was indeed worth saving as the policy of "Terrorism" on land followed that of "Terrorism" on the high seas seemed to leave us indiff"erent. Yet the same spirit, as of yore, dominated the nation. The people of America at last understood that it was not any particular rule of law, but the existence of law itself, divine and human, that was involved in the Fate of France. The task confronting this nation is a stupendous one. Let there be no illusion. The war may well be long and painful, beyond expression, but the past few weeks have taught us that the nation \ I'll' \ MARSHAL JOFFRE From the Original Drmving FRANCE— COUDERT 45 will bear the strain with that same courage and enduring persever- ance as in the past, following the example of the Fathers and in- spired by the traditions of the American Revolution, this people will stand like a stone wall with our splendid Ally of old and of to-day — France — and from Great Britain from whence came our institutions, to end forever the Hohenzollem system of blood and iron so that a better future may come to Europe and America, one in which peace may be builded upon a guaranty of justice and law — a world order in which fundamental moral postulates and human rights may never again be set at defiance at the behest of mere material force, however scientifically organized. To France has fallen the honor of checking, to Britain the bur- den of containing by sea and land, to America now comes the duty of finally overthrowing that common enemy of democratic insti- tutions and ordered liberty, the foe whose morality knows no ruth, whose philosophy admits no check upon the "will to power." In France the traveler passing along the roads to the northeast leading to Lorraine may see at every cross-road a great index finger pointing to the single word VERDUN. To many thousands, nay, hundreds of thousands of men passing over these roads in the five fateful months of critical battle, these six letters spelled mutilation and death, yet the word was an inspiration to heroism in every home of France, and from every comer of the land men followed that great index finger pointing, as it did indeed, to the modern Calvary. To-day at every cross-road must we here in America set up a great index hand with the words "TO FRANCE." To France, land of suffering humanity, in whose devastated fields again must be saved the same principles for which Americans fought at Bun- ker Hill, at Saratoga, at Yorktown, at Gettysburg and in the Wilder- ness; to France, where the fate of the world is still pending; to 46 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY France, which has again checked the Huns of the modem world as it did those of the ancient; to France, the manhood of this nation must now be directed, to save the heritage of the American Revolu- tion and the Civil War, to preserve the dearest conquests of the Christian civilization; to France will our men go by the thousands, hundreds of thousands, if need be by the million, to prove that the soul of America is more completely intent upon battling for the right than ever before, intent that slavery in another but far subtler and more dangerous form may not prevail upon the earth. It was Washington who gave as the watchword of the day in those soul-trying hours that preceded the birth of our nation the immortal and prophetic phrase, "America and France — United Forever." FRANCE— ANATOLE FRANCE 47 CE QUE DISENT NOS MORTS IL n'est pas besoin de rappeler le souvenir de ceux qui nous furent chers et ne sont plus, a notre peuple qui passe, non sans raison, pour celebrer avec ferveur le culte des morts. N'est-ce pas en France, au dix-neuvieme siecle, qu'est nee cette philosophic qui met au rang des premiers devoirs de I'homme la reconnais- sance envers les generations qui nous ont precedes dans la tombe, en nous laissant le fruit de leurs pensees et de leurs travaux? Certes le religion des ancetres est de tous les temps et de tous les climats; elle est meme chez certains peuples orientaux la religion unique; mais en quel pays les liens entre les morts et les vivants sont-ils plus forts qu'en France, les deuils plus solennels a la fois et plus intimes? Chez nous, d'ordinaire, les defunts aimes et veneres ne quittent pas tout entiers le foyer oil ils vecu; ils y respirent dans le coeur de ceux qui demeurent; ils y sont imites, consultes, ecoutes. Je me rappelle trop confusement pour en faire usage ici une scene tres belle d'une vieille chanson de geste, Girart de Rous- sillon, je crois, ou I'on voit une fille de roi contempler, la nuit, apres une bataille, la plaine oil gisent les guerriers innombrables tomber pour sa querelle. "Elle eut voulu, dit le poete, les embrasser tous." Et, du fond de mes tres lointains souvenirs, cette royale fille m'apparait comme une image de notre France pleurant aujourd'hui la fleur de sa race abondamment moissonnee. Aussi n'est-ce pas pour exhorter mes concitoyens a commemorer en ce jour nos morts selon un usage immemorial, que j'ecris ces lignes, mais pour honorer avec notre peuple tout entier ceux qui lui ont sacrifie leur vie et pour mediter la legon qu'ils nous donnent du fond de leur demeures profondes. 48 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY Et tout d'abord, a la memoire des notres, associons pieusement la memoire des braves qui ont verse leur sang sous tous les etendards de TAlliance, depuis les canaux de I'Yser jusqu'aux rives de la Vistule, depuis les montagnes du Frioul jusqu'aux defiles de la Morava, et sur les vastes mers. Puis, ofFrons les fleurs les plus ardentes et les plus nobles palmes aux innocentes victimes d'une atroce cruaute, aux femmes, aux entants martyrs, a cette jeune infirmiere anglaise, coupable seule- ment de generosite et dont I'assassinat a souleve d'indignation tout I'univers. Et nos morts, nos morts bien aimes! Que la patrie reconnais- sante ouvre assex grand son coeur pour les contenir tous, les plus humbles comme les plus illustres, les heros tombes avec gloire a qui Ton prepare des monuments de marbre et de bronze et qui vivront dans Fhistoire, et les simples qui rendirent leur dernier souffle en pensant au champ paternal. Que tous ceux dont le sang coula pour la patrie soient benis! lis n'ont pas fait en vain le sacrifice de leur vie. Glorieusement frappes en Artois, en Champagne, en Argonne, ils ont arrete I'envahisseur qui n'a pu faire un pas de plus en avant sur la terre sacree qui les recouvre. Quelques-uns les pleurent, tous les ad- mirent, plus d'un les envie. Ecoutons les. Tendons I'oreille: ils parlent. Penchons-nous sur cette terre bouleversee par la mitraille ou beaucoup d'entre eux dorment dans leurs vetements ensanglan- tes. Agenouillons-nous dans le cimetiere, au bords des tombes fleuries de ceux qui sont revenus dans le doux pays, et la, entendons le souffle imperceptible et puissant qu'ils melent, la nuit, au mur- mure du vent et au bruissement des feuilles qui tombent. Ef- forQons-nous de comprendre leur parole sainte. Ils disent: Freres, vivez, combattez, achevez notre ouvrage. Apportez la victoire et la paix a nos ombres consolees. Chassez I'etranger qui FRANCE— ANATOLE FRANCE 49 a deja recule devant nous, et ramenez vos charrues dans les champs que nous avons imbibes de notre sang. Ainsi parlent nos morts. Et ils disent encore: Francais, aimez-vous les uns les autres d'un amour fraternel et, pour prevaloir contre I'ennemi, mettez en commun vos biens et vos pensees. Que parmi vous les plus grands et les plus forts soient les serviteurs des faibles. Ne marchandez pas plus vos richesses que votre sang a la patrie. Soyez tous egaux par la bonne volonte. Vous le devez a vos morts. Vous nous devez d'assurer, a notre exemple, par le sacrifice de vous-memes, le triomphe de la plus sainte des causes. Freres, pour payer votre dette envers nous, il vous faut vaincre, et il vous f aut f aire plus encore : il vous faut meriter de vaincre. Nos morts nous ordonnent de vivre et de combattre en citoyens d'un peuple libre, de marcher resolument dans I'ouragan de fer vers la paix qui se levera comme une belle aurore sur I'Europe affranchie des menaces de ses tyrans, et verra renaitre, faibles et timides encore, la justice et l'humanite etouffees par le crime de I'Allemagne. Voila ce qu'inspirent nos morts a un Frangais que le detache- ment des vanites et le progres de I'age rapprochent d'eux. ^^^y^py^ft^&vcJfrc^ 50 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY WHAT OUR DEAD SAY TO US THERE is no need to recall to the minds of our people those who were dear to us and have passed hence, for they are celebrating — and with good cause — the anniversaries of their deaths. Was it not in France, in the 19th century, that there was born that philosophy which placed in the rank of the foremost duties of mankind gratitude towards those generations who have preceded us to the grave, and have left us the fruits of their thoughts and of their labors? Indeed, ancestral worship prevails in all climes and at all periods; in fact, with certain Oriental na- tions it is the only religion. But in what country is the link be- tween the dead and the living so strong as it is in France — the rites at the same time so solemn and so intimate? With us, as a rule, our dead, beloved and venerated, never entirely depart from the homes in which they have dwelt, but take up their abode in the hearts of the living who imitate them, consult them, pay heed to them. I recollect, too vaguely to make full use of it here, a beautiful scene from the heroic song, "Girart de Roussillon," I think it is, where one is shown a king's daughter, one night after a battle, gazing across the battlefield where lay the innumerable warriors who had fallen in the fight. "She felt a desire," said the poet, "to embrace them all." And from the depths of my far-away mem- ories this apparition of the daughter of a royal house arises before me as an image of our France to-day, weeping for the flower of our race so abundantly cut down. My object in writing these lines is not to exhort my fellow-citi- zens to commemorate to-day our noble dead, according to im- memorial custom, but to honor as a united people those who have FRANCE— ANATOLE FRANCE 51 sacrificed their lives for their country and to meditate upon the lesson that comes to us from their scattered burial places. First, with the memory of our own, let us with all piety asso- ciate the memory of those brave ones who have shed their blood under all the Allies' standards, from the streams of the Yser to the banks of the Vistule; from the mountains of Frioul to the defiles of Morava, and on the vast seas. Then, let us offer our choicest flowers of memory to the innocent victims of an atrocious cruelty, to the women, to the child mar- tyrs, to that young English nurse, guilty only of generosity, whose assassination aroused the indignation of the entire uni- verse. And our dead, our beloved dead ! May a grateful country open wide enough its great heart to contain them all, the humblest as well as the most illustrious, the heroes fallen with glory to whom have been erected monuments of bronze and marble, who will live in history, and those simple ones who drew their last breath thinking of the green fields of home. Blessed be all those whose blood has been shed for their country! Not in vain have they sacrificed their lives. At the glorious en- counter at Artois, Champagne, and Argonne they repulsed the invader who could not advance one step farther on the ground made sacred by their fallen bodies. Some weep for them, all ad- mire them, more than one envies them. Let us listen to them. They speak. Let us make every eff'ort to hear them. Let us prostrate ourselves on this ground, torn up by shot and shell, where many of them sleep in their blood-dyed garments. Let us kneel in the cemetery at the foot of the flower-strewn graves of those who were brought back to their country, and there listen to the whispers, scarcely audible but powerful, which mingle through the night with the murmur of the breeze and the rustle of the falling leaves. Let 52 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY us make every effort to understand their inspired words. They say: BROTHERS, live, fight, accomplish our work. Win victory and peace for the sake of your dead. Drive out the intruder who has already retreated before us, and bring back your plows into the fields now saturated with our blood. Thus speak our dead. And they say, further: FRENCHMEN, love one another with brotherly love, and, in order that you may prevail against the enemy, put into common use your possessions and your ideas. Let the greatest and strong- est among you serve the weak. Be as willing to give your money as your blood for your country. Be willing that perfect equality shall exist amongst you. You owe this to your dead. Because of our example, you owe us the assurance that by your self-sacrifice ours will be the triumph in this holiest of all causes. Brothers, in order to pay your debt to us you must conquer, and you must do still more : you must deserve to conquer. Our dead demand that we shall live and fight as citizens of a free country ; that we shall march resolutely through the hurricane of steel toward Peace, which shall arise like a beautiful aurora over Europe freed from the menace of her tyrants, and shall see reborn, though weak and timid. Justice and Humanity, for the time being crushed through the crime of Germany. Thus are the French, detached from the vanities and progress of the age, drawn nearer to our dead and inspired by them. Anatole France Translation by E. M. Pope. ^ *r*^ A'^ MEMORY By J. ./. Van Itufen From Ihe. Original Drawing FRANCE— HUGHES 53 THE TRANSPORTS Poetical Version of Sully Prud'homme's "Les Berceaux" 1 HE long tide lifts each mighty boat Asleep and nodding at the dock, Of the little cradles they take no note Which the tender-hearted mothers rock. But time brings round the Day of Good-Byes For it's women's fate to weep and endure, While curious men attempt the skies And follow wherever horizons lure. Yet the mighty boats on that morning tide When they flee away from the dwindling lands Will feel the clutch of mother hands And the soul of the far-off cradleside. CL ^ CI^;>,^.^^"'^/c^/>,^ 54 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY LA PRIERE DU POILU (Written in the Trenches, before Verdun, December, 1915) ET alors, le poilu, levant la tete derriere son parapet, se mit, dans la nuit froide de decembre, a fixer une etoile qui brillait au ciel d'un feu etrange. Son cerveau commenga a remuer de loitaines pensees; son coeur se fit plus leger, comme s'il voulait monter vers Fastre; ses levres fremirent doucement pour laisser passer une priere: "0 Etoile, murmura-t-il, je n'ai pas besoin de ta lueur, car je connais ma route ! Elle a pu me paraitre sombre au debut, quand mes yeux n'etaient point accoutumes a ses rudes contours; mais, depuis un an, elle est pour moi eblouissante de clarte. On a beau me I'allonger chaque jour, on n'arrivera pas a me I'obscurcir. On a beau y multiplier les ronces et les pierres, apres lesquelles je laisse de ma chair et de mon sang, on n'arrivera pas a m'y arreter. Je sais que j'irai jusqu'au bout. Je vois devant moi la victoire. . . . Mais, la-bas, derriere moi, il y a une foule qui parfois s'inquiete dans les tenebres. Au moment ou la vieille annee va toumer sur ses gonds vermoulus, elle repasse en son esprit agite les evenements qui la marquerent. Elle songe aux peuplades bar- bares d'Orient que le Germain a entrainees derriere son char: Turcs et Bulgares, Kurdes et Malissores, et elle oublie les grandes nations qui s'enrolerent sous la banniere de la civilisation. Elle songe aux territoires que foule la lourde botte tudesque, et elle oublie les empires que nous detenons en gages: ici, I'ouest et Test Africains, grands comme quatre fois toute I'Allemagne, avec leurs 5000 kilometres de voies ferrees et leurs mines de diamants; la, FRANCE— LAUZANNE 55 ces lies d'Oceanie et cette forteresse d'Asie: Kiao-Tcheou, que le kaiser avait proclame la perle de ses colonies. Elle s'alarme de toutes les pailles que, dans sa course desordonnee, ramasse I'Alle- magne et ne voit pas les poutres enormes qui soutiennent la France. . . . Nous autres, qui sommes la poutre, nous savons mieux, nous voyons mieux. "0 Etoile, apprends a ceux qui ne sont pas dans la tranchee la confiance! ... "Le passe est la qui enseigne I'avenir. Chaque fois qu' une armee quelconque, prise de la folic de I'espace, a voulu s' enf oncer dans les terres lointaines et abandonner le berceau oil elle puisait sa force et ses vivres, elle est morte de langueur et d'epuisement, elle s'est effritee comme la pierre qu'on arrache de I'assemblage solide des maisons, elle n'est pas plus revenue que ne reviennent les grains de poussiere qu'emporte le vent. . . . Voici plus d'un siecle que des legions ont tente la conquete de I'Egypte et ces legions etaient les plus magnifiques du monde. Elles avaient des chefs qui s'appelaient Desaix, Kleber et Bonaparte; mais elles n'avaient pas la maitrise de la mer et rien ne revint des sables brulants du desert. Voici un siecle aussi qu'une armee la plus formidable d'Europe, conduite par le plus fameux conquerant qu'ait connu I'univers, tenta de submerger I'immense empire russe ; mais I'empire etait trop grand pour la grande armee et rien ne revint des solitudes glacees de la steppe. . . . Puisse, de meme, aller loin, toujours plus loin, I'armee allemande deja decimee, haletante, epuisee! Puisse-t-elle pousser jusqu'au Tigre, jusqu'a I'Euphrate, jusqu'a I'lnde! . . . "0 Etoile, apprends a ceux qui ne sont pas dans la tranchee, I'Histoire! . . . "Certes ces nuits d'hiver sont longues. Et tous tes scintille- 56 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY ments, Etoile, ne valent pas le sourire de la femme aimee au logis. Cependant, tu as quelque chose de la femme, puisque tant d'hommes te suivent aveuglement: tu en as la grace et Fecial; et toi, au moins, nul couturier boche ne t'habilla jamais! . . . Tu possedes meme des vertus que ne possede pas toujours la femme: tu as la patience et le calme. Les nuages ont beau s'interposer entre tes adorateurs et toi, I'aurore a beau chaque matin eteindre tes feux, tu t'inclines devant la loi supreme de la nature et nulle revolte ne vint jamais de toi. . . . Tache d'inspirer ta soumission a tes soeurs terrestres qui, dans les villes, attendent le retour des guerriers. "0 Etoile, apprends a celles qui ne sont pas dans les tranchees, la Discipline! . . . "Que tous, que toutes sachent qu'il y a quelque chose au-dessus du Nombre, au-dessus de la Force, au-dessus meme du Courage: et c'est la Perseverance. ... II y eut, une fois, un match de lutte qui restera a jamais celebre dans I'histoire du sport: celui de Sam Mac Vea contre Joe Jeannette. Le premier, trapu, massif, tout en muscles: un colosse noir du plus beau noir. Le second, plus leger, plus harmonieux, tout en nerfs: un metis jaune du plus beau cuivre. Le combat fut epique: il se poursuivit pendant quarantedeux rounds et dura trois heures. Au troisieme round, puis au septieme, Sam Mac Vea jetait Joe Jeannette a terre et sa victoire ne paraissait plus faire de doute. Cependant, Joe Jean- nette peu a peu revint a la vie, se cramponna, se defendit, vecut sur ses nerfs, puis attaqua a son tour. Au quarante-deuxieme round, epaule contre epaule, haletants, ruisselants de sang, ils se portaient les demiers coups ; mais le ressort de Sam Mac Vea etait casse et, devant I'assurance de son adversaire, il se sentit vaincu. . . . Alors on vit le grand geant noir lever les bras et s'ecrouler en disant: I guess I can not. . . . ( Je crois que je ne peux pas. . . •) FRANCE— LAUZANNE 57 Ainsi, bientot peut-etre, verrons-nous s'ecrouler rAllemagne, en avouant: "Je ne peux pas. . . ." "0 Etoile, apprends a ceux qui ne sont pas dans la tranchee, la Boxe! ..." J ' / / THE PRAYER OF ''IE POILV' THEN "Le Poilu," standing, in the cold December night, be- hind the breastworks, fixed his gaze upon a star that was shining with a strange brilliance in the sky above. His mind was stirred with thoughts of far away things. His heart grew lighter, as though it yearned to reach the star; his lips trembled, and softly he breathed a prayer. "0 Star," he murmured, "I need not thy glimmering light, for I know my way. The road may have appeared dark at first when my eyes were unaccustomed to its sharp turns, but for a year it has been divinely illumined for me. Even if it grow longer each day, it will never seem dark again. Although torn by thorns and cut by stones, nothing can make me turn back. I know that I shall go on, steadfast to the end. I behold before me Victory. . . . But there, — behind me, is a multitude sorely troubled in the darkness. "Now, as the old year revolves on its rusty hinges, those who wait at home live over in their troubled hearts the events which marked its passing. They think of the barbarous hordes of the Orient which the German has caught in his train; Turcs and Bul- garians, Kurds and Malissores, and they overlook the great na- 58 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY tions enrolled under the banner of civilization. They brood over lands ground under the iron heel of the Teuton and overlook the Empires that we hold; here, West and East Africa, four times as large as all Germany, with their thousands of miles of railroads and their diamond mines; there, the Islands of Oceania and the fortress of Asia: Kiao-Tcheou, which the Kaiser has proclaimed the pearl of his colonies. They are alarmed at the chaff that Germany gathers in her lawless course and they do not see the mighty girders that stay France. But we who are the girders, we know better, we see farther. "0 Star, teach those who are not in the trenches. . . . Confi- dence! "By the light of the past we behold the future. Whenever an army, seized with the frenzy of conquest, has forced its way into a far land, abandoning the cradle whence it drew its life and strength, it has wasted away, it has perished from utter exhaustion. Like stones loosened from a solid wall, it has disintegrated. Like the grain of dust which the wind has blown away, it has vanished never to return. "More than a century ago legions attempted the conquest of Egypt. They were the most magnificent in the world. Their chiefs bore the names of Desaix, Kleber and Bonaparte. But they had not the mastery of the seas, and returned not from the burning sands of the desert. . . . Think also of the time when the most formidable army of Europe, led by the greatest conqueror the world has ever known, tried to overwhelm the vast Russian Em- pire. But the empire was mightier than the Great Army, and it returned not from the glacial solitude of the steppes. ... So let it go far, ever farther on, that German army already decimated, panting, exhausted ; let it reach the Tigris, the Euphrates, even far off India! It will not return. FRANCE— LAUZANNE 59 "0 Star, teach those who are not in the trenches. . , . History! "Truly the winter nights are long, and all thy rays, Star, are not worth the smile of the loved woman at the hearth. And yet, thou hast something of woman, since so many men follow thee blindly: thou hast her grace and splendor. Thou hast even vir- tues that women do not possess, for thou art patient and calm. Clouds come between thy worshipers and thee, dawn each morning extinguishes thy light, yet dost thou bow before the supreme law of nature without a murmur. I pray thee inspire with submission thy sisters of earth; teach them calmly and patiently to await the return of their warriors. "0 Star, teach those who are not in the trenches. . . . Disci- pline! "Would that all men, that all women might know that there is something above Numbers, above Force, above even Courage, and that is Perseverance! A few years ago there was a boxing match between Sam Mac Vea and Joe Jeannette that will remain famous in the history of sport. Mac Vea was a heavy weight, strong, all muscle: a veritable black giant. Joe Jeannette, light, well pro- portioned, all nerve: a mongrel of the best sort. The match was epic. It went on for forty-two rounds and lasted three hours. At the third round, and again at the seventh, Sam Mac Vea threw Joe Jeannette, and his victory seemed assured. But little by little Joe Jeannette revived, pulled himself together, defended himself, and through sheer nerve, began to attack. At the forty-second round, shoulder to shoulder, panting, dripping wet and covered with blood they struck the last blow. The resources of Sam Mac Vea were exhausted, and through the very assurance of his adver- sary he felt himself beaten. . . . Suddenly the great giant lifted his arms and gave way, saying: 'I guess I cannot.' . . . 60 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY "Thus shall we soon see Germany fall to the earth, saying brok- enly, 'I cannot.' . . . "0 Star, teach those who are not in the trenches ... to be game!' Stephane Lauzanne Translation by JVIadame Carlo Polifeme. GREAT BRITAIN— BECK 61 A TRIBUTE TO ENGLAND IT MAY be said of this war, as the master mind of all the ages said of adversity, that "its uses are sweet," even though they be as a precious jewel shining in the head of an ugly and venomous toad. While the world-war has brutalized men, it has as a moral paradox added immeasurably to the sum of human nobility. Its epic grandeur is only beginning to reveal itself, and in it the human soul has reached the high water mark of courage and honor. The war has enriched our language with many new expressions, but none more beautiful than that of "Somewhere in France." To all noble minds, while it sounds the abysmal depths of tragic suffering, it rises to the sublimest heights of heroic self-sacrifice. The world has paid its tribute to the immortal valor of France, and no words could pay the debt of appreciation which civiliza- tion owes to this heroic nation ; but has there been due recognition of the equal valor and the like spirit of self-sacrifice which has characterized Great Britain in this titanic struggle? When the frontier of Belgium was crossed, England staked the existence of its great empire upon the issue of the uncertain strug- gle. It had, as figures go in this war, only a small army. If it had been niggardly in its effort to defend Belgium, and save France in her hour of supreme peril, England might have said, without violating any express obligation arising under the Entente Cordiale, that in giving its incomparable fleet it had rendered all the service that its political interests, according to former standards of ex- pediency, justified; and it could have been plausibly suggested that the ordinary considerations of prudence and the instinct of self-preservation required it, in the face of the deadly assault by 62 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY the greatest military power in the world, to reserve its little army for the defense of its own soil. England never hesitated, when the Belgian frontier was crossed, but moved with such extraordi- nary speed that within four days after its declaration of war its standing army was crossing the channel, and within a fortnight it had landed upon French soil the two army corps which con- stituted the backbone of her military power. What follows will be remembered with admiration and grati- tude by the English speaking races as long as they endure, for nothing in the history of that race is finer than the way in which the so called "contemptible little British Army," as the Kaiser somewhat prematurely called it — outnumbered four to one, and with an even greater disproportion iii artillery — withstood the powerful legions of Von Kluck at Mons. Enveloped on both flanks they stood as a stone wall for three days against an assault of one of the mightiest armies in recorded history, and only retreated when ordered to do so by the high command of the Allied forces in order to conform to its strategic plans. The English were not defeated at Mons. It was a victory, both in a technical and moral sense. The retreat from Mons to the Mame was one of terrible hardship and imminent danger. For nearly fourteen days, in obedience to orders, the British soldiers, — fighting terrific rear guard actions, which, in retarding the invaders, made possible the ultimate vic- tory, — slowly retreated, never losing their morale, although suffer- ing untold physical hardships and the greater agony of temporary defeats, which they could not at that time understand, and yet it is to their undying credit, in common with their brave comrades of the French Army, that when the moment came to cease the retreat and to turn upon a foe, which flushed with unprecedented victory still greatly outnumbered the retreating armies, the British GREAT BRITAIN— BECK 63 soldier struck back with almost undiminished power. The "mir- acle of the Marne" is due to Tommy Atkins as well as to the French Poilu. Even more wonderful was the defense of Ypres. There was a time in the first battle of Ypres when the British high command, denuded of shells, were allotting among their commands, then en- gaged in a life-and-death struggle, ammunition which had not yet left England. So terribly was the "first seven divisions" of glorious memory decimated in this first battle of Ypres, that at a critical time, the bakers, cobblers and grooms were put into the trenches to fill the gaps made by the slain soldiers in that great charnel house. The "thin red line" held back — not for days, but for weeks, — an immensely superior force, and the soldiers of England unflinchingly bared their breasts to the most destructive artillery-fire that the world at that time had ever known. They held their ground and saved the day, and the glory of the first and second battles of Ypres, which saved Calais, and possibly the war itself, will ever be that of the British Army. Over four million Britons have volunteered in the war, and although very few of them had ever had any previous military experience, yet their stamina and unconquerable courage were such that the youth of the great Empire, on more than one occasion, when called upon, as on the Somme, to attack as well as defend, swept the famed Prussian guard out of seemingly impregnable positions, as for example at Contalmaison. Will the world ever forget the children of the Mother Empire who came so freely and nobly from far distant Canada, who wrenched Vimy and Messines ridges from a powerful foe? I hear still the tramp of marching thousands in the first days of the war, as they passed through the streets of Winchester en route to France via Southampton, singing with cheer and joy, 64 DEFENDERS OF DEMOCRACY "It is a long, long way to Tipperary." Alas! It is indeed a "long, long way," and many a gallant English boy has fallen in that way of glory. To-day, from the Channel to the Vosges, there are hundreds of thousands of graves where British soldiers keep the ghostly bivouac of the dead. They gave their young lives on the soil of France to save France, and when the great result is finally accomplished, a grateful world will never forget the "fidelity even unto death" of the British soldier. Their place on Fame's eternal camping ground is sure. What just man can fail to appreciate the work of the English sailor? It has been said by Lord Curzon, that never has an English mariner in this war refused to accept the arduous and most dan- gerous service of patrolling the great highways of the deep. No soldier can surpass in courage or fortitude the mine sweepers, who have braved the elemental forces of nature, and the most cruel forces of the Terror, which lurks under the seas. The spirit of Nelson still inspires them, for every mariner of England has done his duty in this greatest crisis of the modem world. And how can words pay due tribute to the work and sacrifices of the women and children of England? They have endured hardships with masculine strength, and have accepted irreparable sacrifices with infinite self-sacrifice. When the three British cruisers were sunk early in the war by a single submarine, and many thousand British sailors perished, the news was conveyed to a seaport town in England, from which many of them had been recruited, by posting upon a screen the names of the pitifully few men who had survived that terrible disaster. Thousands of women, the wives and daughters of those who had perished, waited in the open square in the hope, in most GREAT BRITAIN— BECK 65 cases in vain, to see the name of some one who was dear to them posted among the survivors; and yet when the last names of the rescued were finally posted, and thousands of English women, there assembled, realized that those who were nearest and dearest to them had perished beneath the waves, these women of England, instead of lamentations or tears, in the spirit of loftiest and most sacred patriotism united their voices and sang "Britannia Rules the Waves," and re-affirmed their belief that, notwithstanding all the powers of Hell, that "Britons never would be slaves." Who shall then question England's right to a conspicuous place in this worldwide tournament of Fame? In all her past history, there has never been any page more glorious. Without her, as without France, civilization would have perished. To each na- tion be lasting honor! The spirit of Shakespeare has animated his people, and that mighty spirit still says to them in his own flaming words — *'In GofTs name, cheerily on, courageous friends, To reap the harvest of perpetual peace By this one bloody trial of sharp war.'* <^/^t^v^<,.x6-