"DR. DUGGAN, why do you want to go to Fiume? Conditions are very chaotic there and it might be dangerous. Moreover, even if I gave you a permit the commander at Trieste might find it unwise for you to go." This was the answer Count Carlo Sforza, Italian Under Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, gave in August 1919 to my request to be permitted to see for myself what was taking place in Fiume. I left Paris much too late to see the great demonstration in Rome which was the answer to President Wilson's attempt to appeal to the Italian people over the head of the Italian government on the Fiume question. Count Sforza, who was one of the finest gentlemen and ablest statesmen I met in Europe, finally relented and gave me the permit and the commander at Trieste honored it. I shall never forget the wild ride in an army camion over the mountains of Istria. There were but two passengers, an Italian army officer and myself. The driver went at such breakneck speed around dangerous corners that the officer had to order him to go more slowly. Once we reached the seaside resort, Abbazia, the ride along the beautiful coast was delightful. We arrived at Fiume just before dinner and I at once became the target of propaganda.

At dinner I sat opposite a charming old gentleman who regaled me with an earnest statement of the lack of culture of the Yugoslavs and the primitive nature of their civilization. "I am amazed that your President, a university professor, should want to place this city in the control of such a crude and ignorant people." This was the general attitude of the Italians in Fiume who formed the upper class as well as the majority of the population. The city was under the administration of the Inter-Allied Council, awaiting a settlement. That night I wandered about the streets and read flaming electric signs such as "Italia o Morte", which indicated the determination of the Italians that the city was to be theirs. There was an atmosphere of restlessness and tension among the population which boded ill for whatever settlement might be reached. I spent the whole next day talking to and questioning people in different parts of the lovely little city in the hope that I might arrive at some idea of a fair solution. The city had been built up at enormous expense as the one port of the Hungarian part of the Austro-Hungarian monarchy and a splendid commerce had been developed. The Yugoslavs regarded it as the only outlet for their great hinterland and feared that the Italians would discriminate against it in favor of Trieste as a port, a suspicion which was later to prove true. I crossed the bridge over the little stream which separated Fiume from its Yugoslav suburb, Sushak, and watched the peasants bringing their produce to Fiume. Although Fiume could not live without the imports, the Yugoslavian peasants had to pay the tariff on their produce before they were allowed to enter the city.

It was most fortunate that I stayed in Fiume but a few days, because before a week had elapsed d'Annunzio settled the question by seizing the city for Italy on September 12, 1919, and no one was permitted to leave it for some time. As I passed through the cities of Northern Italy upon my return to France I found prevailing the same spirit of restlessness and tension that existed in Fiume and a feeling of foreboding as to the future. For an adequate understanding of this' attitude a brief glance at the recent historical background is necessary.

The political unification of Italy which was consummated in 1870 was the work of liberals, among whom were found the most enlightened aristocrats and bourgeois. They were nearly all of Northern and Central Italy; but the great mass of the peasants had been indifferent. South of Rome the majority were probably ignorant of what had taken place. The succeeding task of developing spiritual unification was herculean. The people of the different parts of Italy were separated from one another not only geographically, but linguistically. They often had difficulty in understanding one another's dialects. The general use of the Italian language of today is the result not only of the spread of schools but of the transfer of army recruits from one part of Italy to do service in another. The consummation of unification left much bitterness in its train, particularly in the relations between Church and State, and the Roman question with its "Prisoner of the Vatican" remained an open sore in the body politic down to the advent of Mussolini.

The country was very poor, without any of the natural resources of coal and iron which would enable it to participate in the great industrial development that characterized northern Europe in the last decades of the nineteenth century. The international situation was not the happiest. The Austro-Hungarian monarchy on the northeast was an enemy, and France on the northwest was unfriendly. Italian unification was too much the result of foreign assistance and too little of Italian effort. This fact impressed itself upon the Italians themselves and after the enthusiasm over unification had been spent, Italy resigned itself to the more urgent task of building the economic and financial life of the nation.

This disillusionment had developed a spirit of pessimism among the intellectuals. Italy's spiritual contributions to humanity had been largely idealistic, in the field of literary and aesthetic criticism, of philosophy and ethics. But gradually an arid, sterile positivism characterized her scholars who regarded Herbert Spencer as a prophet. A soulless materialism developed among the middle classes. The parliamentary regime which had been introduced in 1860 resulted in a breakup into numerous political parties often animated by selfish personal and group interests. In the competition among them for support, the suffrage was extended to larger and larger groups of illiterate and politically inexperienced people. The result was that local politics was almost everywhere characterized by boss rule in its worst form, and national politics by inefficiency, incompetence and considerable corruption. The pessimism of patriots was increased in 1896 by defeat in the war with the "despised" Abyssinians and by the resulting loss of prestige in Europe. The opening of the twentieth century saw Italy pervaded by a spirit of intense dissatisfaction in spite of the fact that its economic condition had greatly improved.

At the same time the Italian national spirit had been roused again by the remarkable work of Benedetto Croce, and to a considerable extent of his disciple, Giovanni Gentile, with whom Croce later broke off all relations. These two philosophers diverted attention from foreign spiritual influences, directed it to the great contributions of Italy in the field of literature, art and philosophy, and succeeded with the younger scholars in substituting for the materialistic philosophy of life then general among intellectuals an idealistic philosophy in consonance with the Italian spirit. When World War I broke out a new vital spirit already inspired the young scholars and intellectuals who were demanding revived Italy. With time they might have succeeded in inspiring their countrymen generally, but at the moment they were politically a minority.

Italy went into World War lin May 1915 with her people* divided in sentiment. They suffered great hardships during the conflict and were completely disillusioned at its outcome. They believed the other Allies had seized the major prizes and left them with gains wholly incommensurate with their sacrifices. The disbanding of the armies increased the unemployment which was already so pronounced. The years 1919 and 1920 were years of enforced idleness and hunger. A general revulsion against the war policy, and everybody that favored the war, took place. An army officer's uniform was a signal for insult, not acclaim. Strikes and lockouts spread in all the industrial centers. The farm laborers demanded not only an increased share in the crops but a division of the big estates. Finally, in Piedmont and Lombardy the workers seized the factories, which they worked themselves, and in some instances ran up the red flag. But when the stock of materials on hand was exhausted and they could receive no credit from the banks, they marched out, the factories reverted to their owners, and normal conditions soon followed.

During this chaotic period the Fascist group formed a small and unimportant party. At the last free election in 1921, they elected only thirty-five out of five hundred and thirty-five members of parliament. The Italians, unlike the Germans, never voted for Fascism. It was really when the Communist movement had already failed that the Fascists came to the front. Moreover, there was an open opposition to Mussolini for three years after he came to power in 1922. The Italian people are guiltless of the crimes of the Fascist regime. Some of the original Fascists were idealists, rather proletarian in their sympathies, but the majority were selfish opportunists determined to seize upon the prevailing chaos as the chance to realize their ambitions. After the seizure of the factories by the workers, they were joined by super-patriotic students, young ex-soldiers, officials and capitalists, and moved farther and farther to the right. The utter breakdown of the government during the previous years of anarchy, the incapacity of the old politicians to meet the situation, their bickering and petty trading in the face of social chaos persuaded many that the only hope for the permanent return of law and order was in supporting the Fascists. Their strength grew with the passing months until finally as the result of the March on Rome in October 1922 the Fascists, in violation of the "Statuto" or constitution, took over the government of Italy and the control of society.

The Fascist hymn is entitled "Giovanezza, Giovanezza"---Youth, Youth. The youth of Italy particularly had been inspired by the revived idealistic philosophy of Croce, emphasizing the Italian spirit; they had become intensely patriotic as the result of the war and its subsequent disappointments; they were outraged at the impotence of the democratic parliamentary regime to function in the face of national danger and humiliation. They turned readily to a different conception of society which promised more for Italy. The Fascists were originally composed of so many diverse and even irreconcilable elements that a philosophy of movement only gradually evolved, largely as the result of frequent purges. Their conception of society, as in all totalitarian countries, is absolutely at odds with that of the liberal state. With them the state is the one stable element in a changing world. It is an end in itself, and the loyalty and obedience of the individual to the state is unquestioned. In return every individual, according to Fascism, enjoys the protection of the state His voice is supposed to be heard in its policies though it is in reality only a "yes" voice. Fascists maintain, however, that the individual cannot express himself through representation based on geographical divisions because of their many conflicting interests. Representation is to be vocational and equally divided between employers and workers. The strike and lockouts which had characterized the former regime had no place in the new one.

Since the Roman Catholic Church represents the historic faith of Italy, Fascism practically predicates the union of Church and State. This attitude culminated in the Lateran Treaty of February 11, 1929, which finally settled the Roman, question. The Vatican had always maintained that the Catholic Church could not function as a universal institution if it were subordinated to any national state. The Lateran Treaty provided that Vatican City was to be an independent entity with the right to receive and send ambassadors and to have other practicable civil rights as a sovereign state. The Lateran Treaty introduced an anomaly within the Italian state, but it removed a long-standing bitterness which had been the cause of disunion among the Italian people. It was the one successful act of Mussolini's diplomacy

Croce had taught that what is needed to create a new education is not a mere dissolvent of the old but a new force and a new purpose. Gentile found these in Fascism. Fascism, like every revolutionary movement, used education as the chief instrument to realize its objective. Its objective was an organic and totalitarian state, controlling the lives, wills and consciences of its people, a state which would emphasize not free social inquiry, opinion or action but its own authority.

Gentile was appointed Minister of Education with extraordinary powers in October 1922. He was a progressive reformer and at once gave a new direction to the Italian school system, reforming its aims and curricula without tampering needlessly with the organization that already existed. He abolished the non-sectarian school and based education upon the religious and aesthetic principles in life, contending that education must be religious because children need a foundation for moral life and it must be aesthetic in order to free the creative element in life and contribute to its spiritual enrichment. Had the Gentile reforms been realized the cause of progressive education in Italy would have been greatly advanced. He strongly advocated substituting new ways inspired by a new zeal and experimentation for the old formal instruction, rigid curriculum, bureaucratic administration, working for diplomas and other outmoded practices. But everything was to be done within the principles of the absolute state, the "Nuovo Stato". Unfortunately for Italy, Gentile, who was more interested in education than in politics, was followed in a very few years by a rapid succession of Ministers of Education who were ignorant of his aims and purposes and devoid of his enthusiasm. Gradually clerical control was extended from the elementary to the secondary school, and textbooks had to receive clerical approval. University rectors and deans were no longer elected by the faculties but appointed from Rome. No professor dared teach in opposition to the regime.

The early changes in education were but a part of the greater changes in government generally. Shirking and inefficiency in administration were swept away. Intensive programs in irrigation, road building, public health and sanitation were undertaken, even beyond the financial ability to support them. Recreational opportunities for the workers, sports, and competitive games were blue-printed and in some places introduced. The whole life of the people was suffused with pride in their country and of confidence in its future. The former inferiority complex of the Italians seemed to give way to a swashbuckling attitude toward the rest of the world. The Junker spirit had crossed the Alps and Deutsche Kultur gave place to Italianità.

The Fascist achievement in the beginning was valuable, but it was accompanied by an increasing loss of liberty. The narrowing of legislative activity finally resulted in absolute control vested in the Dictatorship. Local self-government was abolished and administration centralized at Rome. The press was muzzled and freedom of speech and of assembly disappeared. The regime was soon firmly in the saddle; but before a decade had passed, the murmurs of discontent were audible and came from practically all classes of society. Yet espionage and delation made men wary of expression. When two friends met in Italy at that time they criticized the regime; when three met, they sang Giovanezza.

In 1928 I sailed to Naples via Gibraltar and was met by my good friend, Raffaelo Piccoli, Professor of Philosophy at the University of Naples. Professor Piccoli, who spoke English admirably, had been in the United States several years before and had been circuited by the Institute of International Education among our colleges to lecture on Italian civilization. He became an ardent admirer of American civilization and before his return home married Miss Blanche Goode, Professor of Music at Smith College, and at the time of my visit had three small sons. I had not been in Naples since 1898 and found it a transformed city. It was thoroughly clean, the cows were no longer driven to your door to be milked, and the importunate beggars had become invisible. How much ¤f this reform was to be ascribed to Fascism is a question, but the change was certainly considerable. While traveling in a tram with Professor Piccoli, I happened to mention Mussolini's name. Professor Piccoli looked around and whispered, "Don't mention his name. Everyone will at once listen. You may be understood and what you say may be reported. Use a circumlocution."

Professor Piccoli was not only a non-Fascist but he was known as a liberal. Nevertheless, he was respected by the Fascists. He took me one evening to visit Benedetto Croce and regaled me on the way by describing the manner in which Croce and his wife routed a band of violent Fascists who had invaded their house on the night of October 26, 1926, in order to give castor oil to the philosopher. His wife met them at the door of the bedroom and denounced them so vehemently and wielded her broom so emphatically that they had to be satisfied with the partial destruction of his invaluable library. Croce happened to be in a gracious mood on the night of my visit and I enjoyed his comments on prevalent conditions of Italian culture. They were not at all favorable. He obviously liked Piccoli, as apparently did everyone I met in Naples. As I left Naples for Rome and bade Professor Piccoli and his wife "Good-bye" he said, "Please, Dr. Duggan, try to secure an invitation for me to an American college, however modest the position and stipend may be. I cannot stand it here any longer." I promised to do so and immediately upon my return to the United States I consulted President Neilson, who also admired Piccoli, and he extended an invitation to him to become Assistant Professor of the Italian language and literature at Smith College. Before the invitation arrived at Naples, Piccoli had accepted a call to become a professor at Cambridge University in England. The family settled there very happily but unfortunately Professor Piccoli died within three years.

Rome in 1928 was also a very different city from the Rome of my visit ten years previous. Mussolini boasted that it was no longer a morgue in which to observe the dead monuments of the past. A spirit of energy and vitality appeared to dominate the place. Blackshirts were everywhere, sometimes rendering real service, sometimes making a nuisance of themselves by their officiousness in interfering with the ordinary affairs of ordinary citizens. By this time, most of the enemies of the regime were in exile. Two friends, Count Sforza and Professor Salvemeni, were doing yeoman service in our country by means of their lectures and writings in combatting the Fascist propaganda that was in full swing not only among Italian colonies in our large cities but among susceptible elements to be found in the salons of many conservative people of wealth and influence. In the United States at that time I sometimes heard it stated, "We need a Mussolini here."

I was not long in Rome before I was invited to dinner by Nelson Gay. Gay had lived in Rome almost his entire life and was the most influential American in the city. He was a real scholar in Italian culture and had what was probably the finest library of the Risorgimento in all Europe. He had invited the Minister of Education to meet me because of the latter's desire to have Italy become a participant in our student and professor exchange with foreign nations. I did arrange for the exchange with Italy a little later during my visit, with excellent results. But the reason the Minister was most anxious to meet me was to explain his desire to select an Italian university which might become a real center for American students in which, while studying in their special field, they might become familiar with the language, literature, history and civilization of Italy. He had decided upon Padua as the university and requested me to be the guest of the university during a visit to Padua to discuss with the Rector and deans the means whereby the desired objective might be realized. I personally believed that Florence would probably be a more desirable place to launch the project, but since I had never been to Padua, I told him I would gladly go there on my way out of Italy. He assured me that he would telegraph ahead so that I might be met and proper arrangements be made for my visit.

Before the visit to Padua, Mussolini's teacher of English, a lady with whom I had become acquainted, made an arrangement for an interview with him. Upon my arrival at the Palazzo Chigi I found his anteroom crowded with officials and visitors awaiting their turn to be heard. When the door was finally opened for my entrance I found myself in the celebrated long room across which one would have to walk. Mussolini was seated at the end opposite the door and surveyed the visitor as he approached. Our interview was in French because at that time his English was very feeble. I found him to be a man of apparent strength and power. He was very gracious and after the usual courtesy of inquiring whether my visit to Italy was a happy one, he began to talk of the project of Padua about which the Minister of Education had evidently informed him. But not for long. A secretary came in with a note, Mussolini excused himself, the doors were thrown open, thirty Bolognese lined up with Mussolini in the center, a moving picture was taken, a photograph of Mussolini was handed to each of the Bolognese, who departed rejoicing that they had personally spoken to Il Duce. It was a great show, not unknown in other countries. Noting the crowd of persons outside waiting for an audience, I said a few words of adieux to Mussolini and took my departure.

I was unable to discover whether the trains in Italy were now on time, a fact much vaunted by the Fascists, because an American friend invited me to motor north through the hill towns, a trip which I enjoyed very much. I had always admired the sturdy Italian peasant folk whom I had found to be a kindly and tolerant people. Their attractive qualities had not been modified by Fascist propaganda. Many had put on a black shirt to camouflage their real sentiments. I stopped to visit a friend, Miss Edith May, several days at Florence. She was highly regarded by the Italians, Fascist and non-Fascist, because she maintained a fine, high class center for American young women of wealth and intelligence to which she invited distinguished European scholars and men of affairs to discuss problems of contemporary interest. Miss May personally was careful to keep her opinions to herself but her old mother had no such inhibitions and denounced Fascism in unmeasured terms. Their butler also told me of the beating up of his young son of seventeen by a Fascist gang because of his refusal to enroll as a Fascist.

On the day of my departure for Padua I was so busy that I was unable to take a train at an earlier time than one that arrived at Padua at 10 P.M. Alas, Fascist efficiency had fallen down! There was no one to greet me, and no one at the station who could speak English, French or German. I managed to make a taxi man understand that I wanted to go to a "buon albergo". As was my custom in a strange city, I watched intently the streets we passed through till we came to the hotel. It was a comfortable inn and after breakfast the next morning I started out about nine o'clock to go to the university. When I arrived I was told that the Rector would not be there until eleven. As it was evident that no one expected me, I decided to return to the hotel. But I suddenly realized that I knew neither its name nor its location! I had arrived quite late the night before and had not noticed the name and I had sallied forth in the morning without taking note of it. It was quite a perplexing situation, for my bag with all my belongings was in the hotel. At first I thought of visiting the police and asking them to call up the hotels but gave that up as asking too much. Finally, I went back to the station and hired a taxi, telling the driver to take me to a "buon albergo". As we drove along I again watched the streets even more intently than on the night before. Presently we came to a big building where I remembered that on the previous night we had turned the corner to the left. I ordered the taxi driver to do so and we did not go far before I recognized the hotel.

When I returned to the university at 11 o'clock, the Rector was full of apologies. He had not received the telegram notifying him when I would arrive. He had in the meantime arranged to have a group of the professors at luncheon and they all displayed the greatest enthusiasm for the idea of an American center. The longer they discussed it, the more doubtful I became of its possibility. However, I said nothing, partly because the talk was wholly in French very rapidly spoken and partly because the Rector was to take me to the Center later in the afternoon. I motored almost ten miles from the city to a palace that had been sequestrated from an Austrian nobleman during the war. I asked how the American students were to get to the university and the Rector informed me that the government was going to establish a bus line between the palace and the university. The palace had lovely grounds and the Rector assured me that tennis courts and other means of carrying on sports were to be constructed.

There was a delightful pond in the grounds in which the Rector explained that the students might swim. The palace itself was a big building with many high-ceilinged rooms that obviously would be cold in winter. I explained to the Rector the comfortable character of our dormitories and commons,: but he assured me that those needs had been foreseen and that the government had set aside $75,000 to make the place ready for occupancy by the American students.

Finally, I came to the real crux of the matter. I asked the Rector how many American students he expected. He answered that expenses would be met if there were 100 but he hoped there would be as many as 150, that he had been informed there were 500 at the University of Paris. I trod on a little more dangerous ground by asking him why he thought American students would want to come to Padua. "Don't you know, Dr. Duggan, that Padua is the greatest center for the study of law in Europe?" "Yes," I answered, "but our law is a very different system of law." "But we have great scholars in all fields of learning under whom American students could study." "How many could teach them in English until the Americans learned Italian?" I inquired. He admitted that there were very few but that more would be provided, if necessary, and he inquired how the Americans understood the instruction in the vernacular in the French and German universities. I explained that French and German were taught in our high schools and colleges, and he was amazed to learn that the language of "the cradle of culture" was taught in but few institutions. The Rector was a kindly old gentleman whose feelings I did not wish to hurt and I diverted his attention to other topics.

When I arrived in Milan I wrote a note to the Minister of Education explaining why I did not think his scheme was feasible. But the whole experience was an additional evidence of the profound influence that the United States had begun to exert in foreign countries owing to the awakened consciousness of the importance of American civilization and education.

Because of a number of complications my arrival in Milan on this particular occasion was at a most unfortunate time, namely, late on Saturday night. It was unfortunate because I was almost without funds and I knew that probably no bank would be open the next day at which I might present my letter of credit. Moreover, I was due in Lucerne the next afternoon for an important conference. But the occasion provided me with a feeling of immense satisfaction at being an American. The next morning I explained my predicament to the proprietor of the hotel to which I had gone the night before and asked him whether he thought any banker in town would be willing to give me funds on my letter of credit. To my astonishment and pleasure he answered, "Dr. Duggan, I shall be delighted to lend you whatever funds will be necessary to take you to Lucerne and you can send the money back when it is convenient." When I expressed my gratitude, he added, "I have never yet rendered a service of this kind to an American who failed to keep his word."

The enthusiastic youths who formed the backbone of the Fascist party were fed with dreams of a future world order in which Italy would have a commanding place. In Rome, which all young Italians tried to visit sooner or later, visitors were surrounded with the symbols of Rome's imperial grandeur, the Forum, the Colosseum, the arches of Trajan and Constantine, Hadrian's tomb, and other inspiring symbols. Their imaginations were fired by the speeches of Fascist leaders: once more the Mediterranean was to become Mare Nostrum; once more the peoples on its shores opposite Italy were to fall under Rome's civilizing influence. The new school books gloried in the period of Italy's history when Rome governed the civilized world. School teachers emphasized the determination of Fascism to realize another such period of Italian glory.

The Fascist leaders, particularly Mussolini, were realists. Wherever they looked in the sphere of their immediate activity, the Mediterranean, they found obstacles to the realization of their aims under the dominion of England and France. England controlled both outlets of the Mediterranean, at Gibraltar and Suez, and dominated it in the center at Malta. France had driven Italy into the Triple Alliance in 1881 by assuming a protectorate over Tunis, which Italy had marked out for herself. Moreover, both France and England had given scant attention at Versailles to the claims of Italy to share in the division of German colonies. Again, Italians were outraged at Clemenceau's ill-concealed attitude of contempt for Italy as a second-rate power. France and England were regarded by Fascists as bloated plutocracies and cowardly democracies, and they solaced themselves by repeated outpourings of contempt for the social systems of those two countries.

Mussolini was determined to get a real "place in the sun" for Italy but he was going to get it without going to war for it. Except for the Corfu incident of 1923, he engaged in no risky adventure until Japan's invasion of Manchuria in 1931 disclosed the weakness of the League of Nations and the unwillingness of its two dominant members, France and England, to resist aggression. When the Fascists determined to attack their fellow League member, Ethiopia, the League imposed sanctions which failed because of the attitude of reactionary influences in England and France. The imposition of oil sanctions, which alone could have been really effective, was delayed until German troops reoccupied the Rhineland in March 1936, and then in the excitement was abandoned.

Mussolini emerged from the Ethiopian War with thorough contempt for England, France, and the United States. Thereafter, he determined to cooperate with Hitler who had denounced the League's collective action against Italy. This cooperation became increasingly a matter of the subordination of Italy to Germany until it became a commonplace that instead of being a partner Mussolini had become the prisoner of Hitler.

When France lay in the dust in June 1940, Mussolini---like most people in Europe---expected that Britain would be compelled to surrender in a fortnight. Prepared or unprepared, Mussolini would have to get in on the winning side if he were to share in the spoils. On June 10th he delivered his "stab in the back" by declaring war on France and Britain. In October Italy attacked little Greece which was allied with France and Britain, but the Greeks were fanatically determined to defend their country and were so successful that Mussolini had to be rescued by Hitler. At the same time his invasion of Egypt from Libya resulted in his army's being driven back helter skelter by the British, who also liberated the whole of Ethiopia. The hoped-for division of French colonies was postponed till the end of the war. In the meantime Mussolini had become immersed in a terrible conflict, the outcome of which no on could foresee. As the "prisoner of Hitler" he had lost armies, territory, and prestige. Axis Italy, like conquered France, had become a camouflaged German satrapy.

The entrance of the United States into the war made a profound and discouraging impression upon the Italian people. Italian immigrants in the United States had kept the people at home informed of the enormous resources of their new homeland and of the dynamic character of its population. They gave little hope of Axis success in the war and deplored Italy's entrance into it. It is to be regretted that not the Fascists alone, but millions of anti-Fascists must suffer bombardment of Italy from the air and invasion from the sea. But whatever may be desirable in peace, it is not possible in war to distinguish between a people and its government. With the victory of the United Nations, Italy will be rid of the Fascist gang and will probably resume the evolution toward economic and social progress which was interrupted by the advent of Fascism.

IN ALL my visits to Europe since the first World War, I never failed to go to Switzerland. I would have done this under any circumstances because of my deep interest in the continued success of the Swiss Confederation in keeping people of French, German, and Italian origin settled in distinct areas and nevertheless living in harmony and mutual respect. But naturally as a convinced believer in the League of Nations I was inspired particularly by the desire to learn how the League was meeting the great burdens and responsibilities entrusted to it in the post-war world. It is unnecessary for me to state here my conclusions as to that problem. I wish now to describe some of my experiences which led me to those conclusions. In all fairness to the League, it ought to be understood that some of my critical comments were the result of visits during the summer when the regular sessions were not being held.

The League had its headquarters in Geneva which I discovered to be a conservative, socially exclusive city, many of whose citizens did not regard the establishment of the League in their city with any too great enthusiasm. Yet some of its residents were among the most stalwart adherents of the League. William Martin, the editor of the splendid Journal de Genève, provided in its columns admirable résumés of the most important conferences and activities of the League and, of even greater value, courageous and critical editorials as to their wisdom. Guillaume Fatio, a banker, was indefatigable in his efforts to make Geneva an attractive rendez-vous and educational center for the thousands of visitors who came to the city every summer. William Rappard, Professor of Political Science at the University of Geneva, was one of the wisest exponents of the League's place in the life of the world of today. As a member of the Mandates Commission, his courageous and searching analyses of the reports of Mandatories raised the Mandates Commission to a place of high esteem among all students of public affairs. I have always felt honored in being permitted to call these men my friends. There were others whom I also valued highly for their sane and intellectually detached attitude toward international affairs.

I attended one of the formal openings of the Assembly of the League which, like formal gatherings generally, was a pretty futile affair. The Hall of Reformation was crowded with people of many nationalities, among them a large number of Americans. Though the Assembly was the final authority, the real work of the League was performed by the various commissions some of which, like the Opium Commission, the Health Commission, and, as mentioned above, the Mandates Commission, rendered admirable service. The United States, although it was not a member of the League, was frequently represented on its commissions. Though the United States ignored the League in the early months of its history, it soon learned that some of its own most important activities could not be carried on successfully without the League's cooperation.

One of the League commissions was the International Commission of Intellectual Cooperation composed of representatives of the various national committees of intellectual cooperation. Dr. Robert A. Millikan, President of the California Institute of Technology, was the first American representative. When he was unable to attend I usually acted as his substitute and I became well acquainted with the members of the Geneva Commission: In the early days of the League Gilbert Murray, who became permanent Chairman, represented Great Britain; Albert Einstein, Germany; Mme. Marie Curie, Poland; Paul Painlevé, France; and the distinguished botanist, Sir J. S. Bose, represented India. If the work of the Commission had depended upon these eminent representatives the situation would have been pretty hopeless because, except for Professor Murray, they spent their time and the time of the Commission in discussing projects which they had brought down from the clouds and which were usually impossible of realization. Fortunately the Commission had in its later membership such practical administrators as Sir Frank Heath of England, Professor Krisline Bonnevie of the University of Oslo, Norway; Dr. Hugo Krüss, the Director of the Staatsbibliotek of Berlin; M. G. de Reynold of the University of Berne, Switzerland; and Dr. José Castillejo, who represented the Junta para Ampliación de Estudios of Madrid, and men of like qualifications. Under the wise guidance of Professor Murray, they accomplished considerable of value.

Despite its distinguished membership, I do not think the Commission accomplished much that was really constructive. It was almost always wholly academic in its discussions and very timid in its approach to the problems it discussed. It shied away from questions of a controversial nature especially if these questions had any political, economic, or social significance. The Commission lost an opportunity to render a great service to Education by ignoring elementary, secondary, and adult education and confining its interest to the field of university work. I do not mean that the Commission did not accomplish some good work. But its work lacked significance and vitality and had little bearing upon the great problems that confronted the world, even problems of deep educational import. In its later years the Commission adopted a much more realistic attitude, partly owing to the presence of Dr. James Shotwell, who succeeded Dr. Millikan as American representative, and regularly insisted on a frank and courageous treatment of the questions under discussion.

The League treated the International Commission of Intellectual Cooperation with considerable indifference and gave it little support, either moral or financial. Lord Robert Cecil, one of the strongest supporters of the League, voiced the position of the English in opposing the establishment of the Commission as "a dangerous innovation". The French tried to make use of it as an instrument for their cultural propaganda. When they were not very successful they established and almost alone supported the International Institute of Intellectual Cooperation at Paris. The conferences of experts in the various fields of culture held at the Institute sometimes resulted in excellent conclusions, but they were seldom implemented. In fact, the chief function of the Institute seemed to be to deluge the various national committees with such voluminous reports that few members had the necessary time to read them. It is to be hoped that in a reorganized League the International Commission of Intellectual Cooperation, which ought to be not only the center of inter-cultural understanding but a stimulus to creative thinking in its field, will have more adequate support and greater prestige.

Large numbers of intelligent Americans were strong supporters of the League and thronged Geneva during the summer. Some of them established their summer homes on the lake. Many purposeless dilettantes were also attracted because distinguished representatives from different nations were there. These Americans were highly flattered by having their hands kissed by minor officials of the different legations---a custom alien to the mores of their own country. In the early days of the League its officials were burdened during the summer by the demands upon their time and attention made by visiting Americans who wanted all kinds of information and advice and made insistent requests for tickets of admission to meetings of League commissions. Manley Hudson, Professor of International Law at Harvard, one of the strongest advocates of the League in the United States and at present a judge of the Permanent Court of International justice, secured from one of the American foundations sufficient funds to establish the American Committee at Geneva. The Committee rendered an inestimable benefit to League officials by acting as a headquarters to provide the services formerly required of them by visiting Americans. It was also the rendez-vous where residents from all parts of the United States might become acquainted with one another and plan for campaigns of education at home in the interests of a better understanding of the League's work. One of the most vital services of the Committee was as a forum at which current League problems were discussed by members of the Secretariat and representatives of the different nations that were members of the League. The Committee was for Americans an indispensable unofficial organ of the League. It always had the unfailing support of Arthur Sweetser, the only remaining American representative of high rank in the Secretariat of the League.

It was only natural that establishment of the League's headquarters in Geneva should make that lakeside capital a world center for the study of international affairs. Education has always held a place of prominence in Swiss national life. The elementary schools founded by Pestalozzi in the eighteenth century have been extended until every district, even high in the Alps, has its own free school. Illiteracy is unknown in Switzerland, and the country's intense interest in advanced education is reflected by her numerous high schools and colleges. With a population of less than four and a half millions, Switzerland supports seven universities, a federal institute of technology, and a commercial college. Prior to World War II, some two thousand foreigners studied annually in Swiss universities.

Of some importance as an instrument of education in the philosophy underlying the League and in a description and criticism of its activities was the School of International Studies of which Professor Alfred Zimmern was Director and which was carried on every summer. Professor Zimmern was one of the ablest supporters of the League in England. He was a most lucid and logical expositor of international problems. I was so convinced of this that I afterward circuited him among our colleges to deliver lectures to our students on the contentious international problems confronting the world at the time, a task he accomplished very well. He had an unusual facility for drawing out the views of the students themselves.

The School was the meeting place of men and women, especially students, from all parts of the earth, but at every session Americans formed the largest contingent. This was due partly to the fact that Professor Zimmern delivered his lectures in English, usually the only language known to the Americans, but was also due to Professor Zimmern's clear and persuasive exposition of a subject. Moreover, the issues received a comparatively fair and objective treatment unless the interests of Great Britain were involved, when Professor Zimmern obviously leaned to "virtue's" side. The "Zimmern School", as it was popularly known, became a Genevan institution familiar to thousands all over the world.

As the years passed Geneva naturally became a great center for the study of man in his political, economic, and international relations. The University of Geneva attracted students from practically all the countries of Europe for its courses in those fields, especially at its summer sessions. The Graduate School in International Affairs, of which Professor Rappard was Director, provided specialized work for a small group of advanced students who produced some excellent monographs. This was also true of the International Labor Office which government officials, advisers to great industries on labor relations and independent investigators attended in increasing numbers. One of the finest educational organizations in Geneva was the International Bureau of Education, devoting itself to the fields of elementary and secondary education. The Bureau was in communication with educational systems and particularly with individual educators of a progressive kind in every country. Its reports and statistics were a mine of information and its Director, Pierre Bovet, and its indefatigable Secretary, Miss Marie Butts, were held in the highest esteem everywhere. For most of these educational activities the splendid library building presented to the League by Mr. John D. Rockefeller, Jr., was a gift of unusual value. A unique collection of documents on all aspects of the work of the League was made available in one place and as the result of the efficient work of the American librarian, Miss Florence Wilson, the cataloguing, distribution and use of the material attained unusual value and significance. It stimulated imitation in libraries in most European countries, to the great benefit of their scholars and citizens.

Not every organization of an educational nature established by Americans lived up to its promises or possibilities. Mr. and Mrs. Alexander Hadden of New York established the Students' International Union at a fine house on the Rue St. Leger not far from the Opera House. It was visited at almost all times by students for rest, conversation, reading of magazines, teas and suppers, and general recreation. It had a board of sponsors made up of distinguished figures in international life and a local working committee to supervise its activities, composed of such eminent residents of Geneva as Professor Rappard and M. Fatio. But its administration was scarcely international or democratic. It was primarily a proprietary affair of Mr. and Mrs. Hadden in which neither sponsors nor students had very much to say. Mrs. Hadden selected the Director and usually dropped him at the end of a year---seldom by mutual consent. There was a great deal of complaint by the students at the imposed control and of dissatisfaction by sponsors at the lack of an international spirit. As time passed such sponsors as Gilbert Murray, William Rappard, and Guillaume Fatio resigned from the Board. On the outbreak of the war the Students' International Union closed, but another international student center, the Maison Internationale, already in existence,, took its place and has carried on successfully during the war.

Several of the organizations of an educational nature that were established at Geneva after the founding of the League had in course of time appealed to the Rockefeller Foundation for grants to enable them to broaden and strengthen their activities. When the League was founded Mr. Raymond Fosdick became one of its important officials but resigned after Mr. Harding was elected President of the United States, as he felt that an American should not occupy an important political post in an international agency of which his country was not a member. But he did not lose his faith in the essential importance of the League nor his desire to be of service to it. Mr. Fosdick subsequently became President of the Rockefeller Foundation, and when I was about to go to Europe in 1930 I discussed with him some of the appeals that had been sent to me at times by various educational organizations in Geneva. He assured me that if it were possible to federate them on a sound basis, the Foundation might be interested in giving assistance for the support of such federated groups. Upon my arrival in Geneva I called together the representatives of all the interested agencies. The federation was to be set up democratically with the representatives of the different organizations in general control, but as it was impossible to secure a working agreement to that effect the scheme fell through.

When I was in Geneva in 1930 substituting for Dr. Millikan as American representative on the International Committee of Intellectual Cooperation, I had an illuminating experience which helped to explain one of the reasons for the downfall of the League. One morning while I was eating breakfast I was told that two Italian gentlemen wished to see me. They informed me that they had traveled overnight to have the interview. Then they launched into a diatribe against the League. They denounced it as an instrument to implement the power politics of France and Great Britain. They gave at length the reasons why the Four Power plan proposed by Mussolini for the solution of Europe's problems was so much superior to anything that would come out of what they dubbed the "talk club of Geneva". Now I haft practically no official standing at Geneva and could not understand why I should have been approached in this manner save as a despicable attempt to sow the seeds of disunion among friends of the League. I soon showed my resentment and they left. The Italian people are not, of course, to be blamed for this questionable action but it was in full accord with the evil policy of the Fascist party.

As the years passed my admiration for the Swiss people and their government constantly increased. The threats and insults from Fascists and Nazis did not deter them from carrying on in their accustomed ways though they of necessity were compelled to move cautiously and with circumspection. The attempt of Mussolini to detach the Italian canton of Ticino from the Swiss Confederation failed completely. No part of Switzerland has been more anti-Nazi than the German area. During my last visit to Switzerland in 1938 I rejoiced at the evidences on all sides of the preparations being made to defend to the last their centuries-old freedom. During the present war Switzerland has become an enclave surrounded by the German and Italian armies, yet the proud traditions of Swiss democracy have remained unshaken. Despite numerous public threats by Nazi officials, Switzerland's press continues to report news received from all belligerent as well as neutral quarters, and its editorials on occasions have been boldly outspoken. All foreign legations are allowed to publish bulletins in the four official languages of Switzerland, and distribute them freely to anyone who asks for them. Most significant of all, perhaps, is the generous and cordial reception given by the Swiss people---at considerable personal sacrifice---to more than 13,000 war-tossed refugees from near-by countries now under German occupation.

During World War I the workers in the Allied countries rendered loyal service to their governments and insisted that recognition of that service be made at the peace conference. Their demand received added stimulus as the result of the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia in 1917. Statesmen at the conference were anxious to prevent the Revolution from moving into the Allied countries as it had already more than wedged into defeated Germany and Hungary. Largely under American guidance, the International Labor Organization emerged as the defense instrument of Labor in the difficult years ahead. Then for twelve years we scorned it even more than we did the League and finally entered in 1934, soon to become its leading member. A "Labor Charter" was adopted by the International Labor Organization at the time of origin and this charter has since guided the Organization in its development.

The establishment of the International Labor Organization was one of the most constructive accomplishments of the peace conference. To secure the agreement of employers, workers, and governments merely to have their representatives come together and discuss the nature of possible remedies to better working conditions was an achievement in itself. These representatives soon discovered that their points of agreement were far more numerous than their points of difference, because they were nearly all animated by a sincere desire to improve working conditions in advanced industrial countries and to ameliorate the lot of the peasants in backward countries:

The I.L.O. is an autonomous organization which to a considerable extent decides upon its own membership. As soon as it was established it invited Germany and Austria to its first conference in 1919. A country like the United States may be a member of the International Labor Organization even though it is not a member of the League of Nations, and most of the countries that have resigned from the League have retained their membership in the I.L.O. This, however, is not true of Germany, Italy, and Japan, all of which were once members of the International Labor Organization as well as of the League but have now resigned from both. In totalitarian countries, where the government is everything, there are no really significant associations either of workers or of employers.

The remarkable accomplishment of the International Labor Organization during the past two decades has been largely due to its first Director, Albert Thomas, a Frenchman, and to E. J. Phelan, a Briton, now Acting Director. The Office had determined from the beginning that the splendid labor conventions and resolutions of the Organization would be founded upon factual knowledge, and its research department has accumulated the largest single collection of social and economic literature in the world. Virtually all industrial problems: hours of work, wages, contracts, unemployment, migration, labor statistics, social insurance, and many others have been carefully studied, some of them for the first time. Moreover, where adequate information could not be obtained from the study of reports, technical experts were sent afield to secure additional information, and sometimes to give advice or to render assistance that had been requested. Upon the outbreak of the second World War the Economic Intelligence Section of the League Secretariat and the International Labor Organization moved across the Atlantic, part of the former to Princeton, New Jersey; the latter to Montreal, Canada.

I had become acquainted during my visits to Geneva with some of the splendid personnel of the International Labor office who, as far as I could observe, discharged their functions with the Organization alone in view. During my last visit in 1938, I had the opportunity to discuss the work of the I.L.O. with John G. Winant whom I had met once before in the United States following his term of office as Governor of New Hampshire. I found him thoroughly informed about his official tasks as Assistant Director of the I.L.O. and at the same time one of the most modest of the men of vision whom I have met in Europe. It is easily understandable why he has proved his worth as our wartime Ambassador to Great Britain.

The relationships of the Institute of International Education with Geneva and its institutions were very intimate but they were not confined in Switzerland to Geneva. Before I made my second visit to Switzerland, in 1925, after the founding of the League, Dr. Butler as President of the Carnegie Endowment requested me to discover to which city in Switzerland a library of 3,000 volumes on United States civilization ought to be presented. Similar presentations had been made to other European cities. When I first visited the public library at Zürich I was astonished at the many evidences of efficiency in its administration, so lacking in European libraries generally. My astonishment subsided when I learned that the man who served as its Director, Mr. H. Escher, had studied library economy at the New York Public Library. My recommendation to the Endowment was to present the library to Zürich and that was done forthwith.

Zürich is the largest city of Switzerland and the center of the German Swiss population. It is Switzerland's most important manufacturing city and leads a very vigorous industrial life. It is also a great educational center, having not only its own university but also the highly regarded Technische Hochschule. The Rector of the Hochschule, Dr. Arthur Rohn, became the chairman of our Swiss committee of selection in the student exchange between the United States and Switzerland. The other members of the committee were the Rectors of four Swiss universities. When I first visited Zürich, Dr. Rohn graciously invited these gentlemen to meet me at dinner and we discussed the possibility of a student exchange between the United States and Switzerland, an idea which met with their enthusiastic approval. During the discussion, our talk turned to the Swiss institutions of higher education and their function in providing for the needs of a population of four millions. I knew that the requirements for a degree, especially in scientific studies, had been progressively advanced so that the standards were unexcelled anywhere in the world. I said, "Dr. Rohn, you can't absorb all these graduates in so small a population. What do you do with the surplus?" "We export them," answered Dr. Rohn. "Where?" I asked. "To the United States and to backward regions," he answered. Wherever they went, the surplus students were welcomed because of their trained intelligence and devotion to their work. The same qualities made the Swiss exchange students welcome guests at our own colleges and universities. Since the establishment of our exchange with Switzerland, the Institute of International Education has sent almost one hundred of our students to Swiss institutions of higher education and received in return one hundred and fifty Swiss students. The Swiss exchange has been in every way satisfactory. Even after the outbreak of the second World War, Dr. Rohn continued to send students to our institutions although our government refused to give passports to United States students to study in Switzerland. Certainly when the war is over the Swiss exchange is one that we shall want to expand as much as possible.

One of the casualties of the first World War was the Hapsburg Empire. After an existence of at least seven centuries during a considerable part of which it was the dominant European power, it disappeared almost overnight. During the fifty years preceding its fall it had been organized as a Dual Monarchy, the two parts being Austria and Hungary. The government in each division was wholly out of touch with the great forces that were determining the future of Europe. Moreover, the greatest jealousy existed between the governments of the two divisions, and the Empire was held together with difficulty. Franz Josef was the emotional cement. When the collapse came, the Hapsburg Monarchy had few mourners, even among Austrians and Magyars. But the autopsy soon showed that it had had at least one great virtue. It had been held together as an economic unit that provided free trade among the nine nationalities that comprised the Empire and enhanced the material welfare of their populations. In post-war reconstruction, that economic unity must unquestionably be reconstituted.

There was little hope for post-war Austria as a viable state. She had not only been reduced from 115,000 square miles to 32,369 square miles, and a population of 30,000,000 to one of 6,500,000, but she was made up of an enormous head, Vienna, with a population of 2,000,000 and a weak body with the rest of the people scattered over it. Moreover, Vienna had been a great industrial and financial city, the center of commercial relations not only of the Hapsburg Monarchy but of most of the Balkan countries also. The raw materials for most of its industries had been imported and were now cut off and the so-called Succession States were determined to build up their own financial and commercial life. Again, there was not only the greatest antagonism between radical Vienna and the rural areas, but there was the bitterness between the conservatives and the Socialists of Vienna itself. The war had brought Austria to ruin, and after the war unemployment, relief, and inflation reduced her to bankruptcy. There was a considerable popular demand in the country, especially by the Social Democrats, for Anschluss with Germany as providing a greater economic support. France was determined to prevent the union and under her stimulus the League of Nations granted the Austrian government a loan of 880,000,000 schillings and appointed an auditor to reorganize its finances and budget. From that time until the Nazi invasion, Austria led a troubled and precarious existence.

I did not visit Vienna after the war until 1925. I found it a changed city, presenting a shabby-genteel appearance. A great effort was made to keep the streets clean, the parks attractive, and the beautiful public buildings in good order, but the effort was visible. Though the Viennese love of music and drama kept the opera and theatres open, the old glamour had departed. The former café life with its fun and gaiety had disappeared. There was little singing and dancing, and people looked subdued and discouraged. But many, nevertheless, maintained a smiling courage. One of my pleasantest experiences in Vienna was the result of an invitation from a professor of anthropology to spend late Sunday afternoon with a group of friends riding about the beautiful forests surrounding Vienna and taking supper---which they carried with them---in the open. These men were all well-traveled scholars and it was a delight to listen to their tales of experiences in foreign parts, sometimes in strange and primitive places. It was a shock to learn, later, that this professor had committed suicide, possibly like many others who had lost their all.

The University of Vienna had been one of the greatest universities of Europe and throngs of foreign students had studied there. The Medical School was world renowned. After World War I, neither the University nor its great Medical School could be adequately supported. The Medical School appealed to the Rockefeller Foundation for assistance to carry on and the Foundation responded in the same generous spirit that it had shown to many other institutions that had been almost destroyed by the World War. It made the grant with only one proviso: that the materials and equipment provided should be used by all students regardless of race or religion. Anti-Semitism, which had always existed in the University, had returned after the war with increased virulence.

It was sad to observe the pathetic desire of the officials of the University of Vienna to cooperate with the Institute of International Education in an exchange of students with United States institutions. They could offer nothing but tuition in return for scholarships covering board, lodging and tuition. But in association with interested citizens, they formed the Austro-American Institute of Education for the purpose of securing funds to balance the value of our scholarships. It was necessary sometimes for our students to reside in the private homes of Institute members or in the Hotel Bristol, whose proprietor was a member of the Institute and a warm advocate of the exchange. The demand for our scholarships was far greater than the supply and as the cost of transportation from Vienna was a large sum in schillings, only those blessed with the goods of this world could accept them. I regretted that some of the fine young people whom I met and whose parents had been ruined in the war were unable to come. But those who did come were usually enthusiastic about their college experiences and the American way of life.

The bitterness between the workers, who were nearly all Socialists, and the remnants of the bourgeoisie, who assured me that the Socialist Common Council that controlled the city was ruining it, was profound. They insisted that the social services that were maintained at public expense compelled them actually to sell their possessions to secure the money necessary to pay the exorbitant taxes. They were particularly denunciatory of the workers' houses that had been erected for the workingmen's families. I spent a morning visiting these houses. It was one of my most inspiring experiences. The well-lighted flats, small but equipped with baths and other conveniences, evidently filled the tenants with pride in their homes, which were neatly kept. The cellars were commodious and well-aired and equipped with iron washtubs at which I saw some women washing the family laundry and others hanging the clean clothes on lines to dry. I say it was an inspiring sight to one who had visited slum homes in Vienna as well as in other large cities of Europe and America. But I have no answer to the complaints of the bourgeois taxpayers as to the ruin such public enterprises were bringing upon them. Nothing filled me at a later time with a greater sense of outrage than the bombardment of these fine buildings by the Dolfuss government at the behest of Mussolini, who promised to protect Austria against Hitler provided the Socialist Party was suppressed. In but a few years Hitler destroyed the independence of Austria and transformed Italy into a Germany satrapy.

The Battle of the White Mountain in 1620, which resulted in the destruction of religious liberty and national independence of Bohemia, Moravia, and Silesia was followed by a period of reaction and persecution which almost obliterated for 150 years the peoples of those lands as a force in European affairs. It was not until French Revolutionary influences penetrated those lands that the first real attempts at revival of the national culture including language, took place. The progress of the movement became increasingly rapid among the Czechs and after the beginning of the twentieth century the Czech movement, at first for autonomy within the Hapsburg Monarchy and upon the outbreak of World War I for independence from it, was led by Dr. Thomas G. Masaryk. At the Versailles peace conference, the Republic of Czechoslovakia was born.

A great deal of criticism has been written about the creation of the "artificial" state of Czechoslovakia, of whose population 23 per cent were Germans who wanted to join the Reich. She was indeed a "nationality" state composed of Austrians, Ruthenians, Poles, and Magyars. But the majority of the population were Slavs though the Slovak division of the Slavs was made up chiefly of illiterate peasants controlled by reactionary clerics whose loyalty was doubtful. Nevertheless, the progress in the consolidation of the country due to the vision and statesmanship of President Masaryk and his Minister of Foreign Affairs, Eduard Benes, was astonishing. In less than twenty years, Czechoslovakia had become one of the most stable states of Europe whose government was a democracy characterized by devotion to the welfare of the common people. And she had a splendid army capable of defending her national freedom.

When I arrived from Dresden at the Wilson Station at Prague it was a heartening sight for any American to see the fine statue of Woodrow Wilson opposite the station. All Czechs revere the memory of Wilson who was one of the first statesmen to be won over to the idea of a free Czechoslovakia. Another monument which I afterward visited was that of the martyr, John Huss, who has almost as abiding a place in the affection of the Czech people as Thomas Masaryk. Huss, who started the Reformation in Bohemia, was burnt at the stake in 1415, but by the time of the Battle of the White Mountain in 1620, three-quarters of the Czech people had become Protestants. Despite the fact that three-quarters of them are today Roman Catholics, owing to the success of the Jesuits in reconverting them during the Counter Reformation, Huss still remains one of their revered patriots. Unlike the Reformation in some of the German states, it was not the work of. princes in Bohemia-Moravia but largely of the common people and was, moreover, something in the nature of a national movement against Austrian influence.

I had not been long in Prague when I received an invitation to visit the President at Hradcany palace, his official home. I had not seen him after he left the United States in 1918, seven years before, but he seemed to be in splendid health. We talked of his stay in the United States in the early days of the war and of the mutual friends whom he remembered. He said, "Dr. Duggan, one of the superiorities of a small country over a large one is that it enables the ruler to keep in touch with movements among the people. I know personally the influential citizens in every city and town of the Republic." One of his reflections, when discussing conditions in Central Europe, seems ironical today in the light of subsequent events. He was comparing the stability that prevailed in Czechoslovakia with the disunity in Yugoslavia due to the antagonism that existed among Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes, and predicted a stormy career for Yugoslavia. Both countries today are equally under the heel of the Nazis, yet guerrilla troops are still resisting bitterly in the Yugoslavian mountains.

The American Minister to Czechoslovakia at the time of my visit was a personal friend, Lewis Einstein. He occupied an old rambling palace surrounded by beautiful grounds, which I understand the United States government afterward bought as the permanent American legation. He had been attached to the American embassy at London before being made Minister to Czechoslovakia. His wife, who was a wealthy Greek lady, disliked the transfer intensely and did not hesitate to ventilate her feelings. I was amazed at a large dinner party at the legation, when I was seated near her, to hear her make statements regarding the Czech people which were by no means complimentary. Such conversations are sure to be repeated and I could readily understand why, though Czechs were very friendly to Americans, the American legation was not popular among them at the time.

I found that American politics reached in a mild way to Prague. The Czechs always made much of our Fourth of July, and the year I was in Prague there was a great celebration on the morning of the Fourth. Naturally the American Minister was asked to make the principal address, which he did at some length. He never mentioned Woodrow Wilson nor the League of Nations. I had been told the day before that I would be asked to say a few words. I do not know now what I had jotted down to say, but when I rose to speak my brief talk consisted of a laudation of Woodrow Wilson, the certainty of a great future for Czechoslovakia under President Masaryk and my belief in a better world order under the League of Nations. My prophecies have not come true, to be sure, but they struck a responsive chord among the Americans in Prague. Mr. Einstein gave a party to his fellow-countrymen on the grounds of the legation in the afternoon. Several of the Americans present thanked me for the specific mention of Woodrow Wilson and the League, and so did President Masaryk.

The Czech Minister of Education had put me in the good care of a high official of the Ministry, Mr. Praus, who spoke English admirably, had visited the United States, and was the soul of courtesy. He arranged a number of functions in my honor. One was to deliver an address at the Charles University on "Aspects of American Civilization." It was well attended by the student body, no doubt to hear an address in English, which most of them were very eager to learn, as much as to listen to my thoughts on American civilization. On the same evening a dinner was given for me and I had, the immense satisfaction of knowing that the dinner was the occasion when the Rectors of the Charles University and of the German University sat down at the same table. It was the first time, I was told, that such a breaking of bread together had taken place.

The student exchange with Czechoslovakia was the first established by the Institute of International Education with any foreign country, and it wielded a fine influence from the beginning. Like universities in all Continental Europe, Charles University had no dormitories for students before World War I. But when I made my first visit to Prague in 1925, I had the great satisfaction of visiting the Studensky Domov, a combined dormitory and recreational building. My visit to the building was after the delivery of my address and it was very gratifying to be received with smiles by so many students. It was also gratifying to be assured by a number of them of the great benefit they had received as exchange students in some college or university in the United States. After the establishment of the American Institute in Prague, of which Mr. Brackett Lewis became the efficient Director, American students and visitors had a center from which American influences streamed in many ways and directions. Under the Nazis, Charles University was ruthlessly closed amid scenes of violent disorder resulting in the death of some students. Many others were sent to concentration camps. The Studensky Domov is now used for German military purposes and the American Institute has been suppressed. But all these activities only await the final victory of the United Nations before they are resumed. That is certainly true of the student exchange.

Mr. Praus knew that I was anxious to learn as much as possible about the condition of the German minority and their attitude toward the Czechoslovak state. He was good enough to motor me through many villages and towns of the Sudetenland. I was impressed by the transformation. Everything was in German except the names of the railroad stations and highways, and they were given in both Czech and German. Banks, schools, churches, newspapers, hotels---all were German. There was little evidence of the Czech minority of the Sudetenland, though they numbered almost 750,000, and every apparent evidence that the Germans in the Sudetenland were permitted to run their own affairs. While my guide was engaged in some official duties I had the opportunity to talk to some of the German-speaking people. I seldom failed to ask about their attitude toward Dr. Masaryk and found that it was almost always one of respect. "Masaryk is fair," one of them said to me, "but he allows the Czech politicians at Prague to send a lot of Czech boors here to govern us." That summed up the general attitude of the Sudetenland Germans. Germans have always regarded Slavs as inferiors. Under the Hapsburgs the Sudetenland people were among the German minority that controlled the country. To have conditions reversed and to have the despised Czechs in control roused the greatest resentment.

Nevertheless, I was convinced at the time that the two races would gradually find a modus vivendi which would enable them to live together and work for the welfare of the State. That conviction was strengthened during later visits to Europe. I believe that no other minority in Europe continued to be treated so fairly and liberally as the German minority in Czechoslovakia. Had the Nazis not deliberately planned to disrupt and destroy the Czech state and to deceive foreigners with their continuous volume of lying propaganda, I do not believe that the majority of the Sudetenland Germans their own accord would have participated in Hitler's nefarious schemes. After the partition of Czechoslovakia, the treatment of the conquered Czechs by the Germans was of the most cruel and brutal nature. Lidice will always be a terrible memory for the Czech people. When victory is finally attained for the United Nations, one of the first crimes to be, redressed is the destruction of Czechoslovakia.

I went from Vienna to Budapest, one of the most beautiful cities of Europe. To sit at an outdoor café on Margaret Isle in the Danube and look across the river to the noble group of public buildings including the Houses of Parliament is an inspiring sight. The Hungarians are a very proud people and they are particularly proud of their capital, and deservedly so.

The Hungarians or Magyars are a warrior, Asiatic people who forced themselves upon the Great Danubian plain about 890 A.D., and were Christianized from Rome. The Reformation made quick progress among the Hungarian nobility because they hoped, like the English nobility, to profit by the suppression of the monasteries and estates of the Church. The ensuing Counter Reformation was not only a movement to save the Magyar people for the Catholic Church but an instrument for their Germanization, and soon Hungarian culture was practically obliterated. Among the aristocracy, conversation as well as public affairs were conducted in Latin, and the native tongue was neglected. Following the French Revolution, the nationalist movement made rapid progress and despite the reaction which destroyed Kossuth's revolution in 1848, the defeat of Austria by Prussia in the Seven Weeks' War of 1866 compelled the Austrians to come to terms with the Hungarians. But the long fight for recognition had not taught the Hungarians the virtue of toleration. They were equally adamant in their refusal to grant concessions to the minorities. They engaged in a vigorous policy of Magyarization and became the worst enemies of Trialism, the movement to incorporate the Slavs as a third division of the Hapsburg monarchy.

No country suffered a greater catastrophe than Hungary as the result of World War I. She lost two-thirds of her territory and population, and instead of being a partner in one of the Great Powers of Europe, became a state of insignificant size and importance. The hatred of the Hungarians for their neighbors who had despoiled them was intense and they never relinquished the hope and determination to recover their lost territory. When I visited the country in 1925, on the walls of every schoolhouse was a map of Hungary before World War I with the lost territories in black, under which was inscribed "Nem! Nem! Soha!" (No! No! Never!)

I was greeted very cordially by the educational officials who knew me as the person responsible for the organization of the Hungarian-American student exchange. The Minister of Education invited me to lunch with a number of his officials and afterward took me to the University and to the royal palace to see the crown jewels. At the lunch he said to me, "Dr. Duggan, the war taught us the wisdom of educating our peasants. We are engaged now in a day and night campaign of education in every village." How long the campaign was continued I do not know but I doubt that it was very long. I afterward---at the Williamstown Institute of Politics---became acquainted with Count Teleki, who was later Prime Minister of Hungary. Teleki always impressed me as a liberal and I believe that Hungary would have become one of the progressive states of Europe if he had had his way. But it was hard for Teleki or any other man of vision to wage war against the landed magnates and the Catholic Church to secure anything like an adequate distribution of part of their estates among the peasantry, as had been done in Czechoslovakia, Rumania, and Yugoslavia. The estates that had been distributed in those countries had been the property of alien aristocrats whom the new masters were anxious to eliminate. In Hungary the estates were the property of native aristocrats. That made all the difference in the world.

The Minister of Education was anxious that I visit the University of Debreczen in the eastern part of the country in the company of Dr. Dennis Jánossy of the Ministry, who was delighted to act as my guide and interpreter. As the result of the change of frontiers, Debreczen was within a few miles of the Rumanian border. We visited the border and saw once again the phenomenon that existed along the boundaries of nearly all Europe, the troops of two countries standing guard opposite each other with tanks and equipment ready for immediate action. I felt sorry for the Hungarians because the Little Entente made up of Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia, and Rumania, all of whom had profited territorially by the defeat of Hungary in World War I, had been organized for the very purpose of preventing the resurgence of Hungary. This was unfair because several millions of Hungarians had been included within the frontiers of the other states.

The first evening of our arrival at Debreczen we were present at a great demonstration in honor of Lord Rothermere, the owner of the Daily Mail, who was conducting a vigorous campaign in favor of a return to Hungary of some of her alienated territories. The people in charge of the demonstration were very anxious to have me sit upon the speakers' platform. This I declined to do having been only shortly before the guest of the Czech people. It was a very exciting meeting and, judging from my friend's translations of the speeches not calculated to add to the spirit of neighborliness. I thought it very unfair of Rothermere to be misleading the Hungarians into the belief that Great Britain would move to secure a revision of their boundaries. He knew that Great Britain had not the slightest intention of doing any such thing.

I found the University of Debreczen to be an excellent institution. The professors whom I met were scholars in their fields and thoroughly acquainted with what our scholars were doing. I had been assigned to a professor in the medical school as host and I found him a most intelligent, attractive, and courteous gentleman who spoke English admirably, as did several of the other professors I met. I was impressed with the standard of the equipment, clinics, and laboratories of the medical school. During our discussions in the evenings I learned a great deal concerning the people of the neighborhood who are almost exclusively members of the Reformed Church. My host was a patriotic Hungarian and an advocate of Revision but he was thoroughly familiar with European history and politics and took an unprejudiced view of the situation in the Danube valley. He was a great admirer of the American people and expressed the hope that the Hungarian-American student exchange might be strengthened, a view which met with my hearty approval.

Hungary entered the present war on the side of the Axis partly because of the glamour which Germany's early brilliant victories held for the reactionary Hungarian aristocracy, but also because of Hitler's return to Hungary of a good part of Transylvania allotted to Rumania by the Treaty of Versailles. In the reconstruction following the victory of the United Nations it can be hoped that a reconstituted Hungary will become an integral part of a Danubian Confederation which would also include Austria and Czechoslovakia. If the Poles could overcome their megalomania and refrain from attempting to dominate the Confederation, their adhesion would be an immense additional strength. If such a union were modeled upon the Swiss Confederation it would in all probability be a viable state. Its economy would have a fine balance between agriculture and industry. It would have the necessary strength to defend itself against foreign aggression. And its component parts, freed from wasting their resources in military competition, could raise the standards of living and education of their peoples and contribute to the cultural life of Europe much as have other small states throughout history.