A woman writes me four pages to prove how dearly she loves my sister and invites me to her hotel--five miles away--"please to tell her about the sailing of the steamships." Six American preachers pass a resolution unanimously "urging our Ambassador to telegraph our beloved, peace-loving President to stop this awful war"; and they come with simple solemnity to present their resolution.

Lord save us, what a world! And this awful tragedy moves on to--what?
We do not know what is really happening, so strict is the censorship.

But it seems inevitable to me that Germany will be beaten, that the horrid period of alliances and armaments will not come again, that England will gain even more of the earth's surface, that Russia may next play the menace; that all Europe (as much as survives) will be bankrupt; that relatively we shall be immensely stronger financially and politically--there must surely come many great changes--very many, yet undreamed of.

Be ready; for you will be called on to compose this huge quarrel.

I thank Heaven for many things--first, the Atlantic Ocean; second, that you refrained from war in Mexico; third, that we kept our treaty--the canal tolls victory, I mean.