belligerent that any right existed to slaughter indiscriminately non-combatants, whether citizens of belligerent nations or not, in order to destroy an enemy's commerce. The first intimation to the contrary was an authorized interview by Admiral Tirpitz, given to the world on the eve of Christmas-God save the mark-in which that chief of pirates, whom history has recorded,—for no buccaneer of the Spanish main ever did a fouler deed than the destruction of the Lusitania-stated that it was his intention to torpedo every merchant vessel belonging to the Allies, and, directing his challenge to America, he asked, "What will America then say?" Had President Wilson then called upon Germany to affirm or disaffirm this threat of its chief naval commander under penalty of an immediate severance of diplomatic relations, this black and shameful chapter of history would probably never have been written.

This was followed on February 4, 1915, by a proclamation, which established a war zone around the British Isles and said:

Every enemy merchant ship found in the said war zone will be destroyed without its being always possible to avert the dangers threatening the crews and passengers.

America accepted the challenge in the most unequivocal manner, when its Government on February 10, 1915, called the attention of the German Government "to the very serious possibilities of the course of action apparently contemplated," and added as a warning that if such cause of action caused

the death of any American citizens, it would be difficult for the United States to view the act in any other light than as an indefensible violation of neutral rights, for which the Government would be concerned to hold the German Government to a strict accountability, and to take any steps it might be necessary to take to safeguard the American lives and liberty and to secure to American citizens the full enjoyment of their acknowledged rights on the high seas.

Thus was the issue joined with brave words, and if the Wilson Administration had then begun to make adequate preparations to vindicate these words with deeds, it is reasonably possible that the Lusitania would never have sunk.

Whether the German Government was indifferent to the hostility of America or misled by the assurance which its then Secretary of State is said to have given to the Austrian Ambassador that its notes were to be taken in a Pickwickian sense and

as chiefly intended for home consumption, we do not know, but it is certain that the German Government shortly thereafter determined to test the sincerity of these emphatic warnings.

On March the 28th, 1915, it sank the British steamer, the Falaba, without any warning and destroyed a number of lives, including that of an American citizen.

It followed this a month later by firing on the American flag and sinking the American steamer, the Gulflight, and three more of its citizens became the victims to their piracy.

On May 24th a German submarine torpedoed the American steamer, the Nebraskan, and the German Foreign Office then assumed its attitude of almost contemptuous indifference by sending to Washington the extraordinary explanation that the commander of the submarine could not see because of the gathering twilight what the nationality of the vessel was and therefore torpedoed the unknown ship on the assumption that it must be a belligerent ship, and it was sardonically added that on this account the shot must not be regarded as intended for the American flag but simply as "an unfortunate accident."

On April the 22nd the German Government determined to direct on American soil the actions of

American citizens and in defiance of the principles laid down by President Wilson. At that time a large number of American citizens were preparing, in full confidence that their rights would be vindicated by their Government, to sail on the Lusitania, and the German Embassy, by an advertisement dated April 22nd and published May the first, warned the citizens that if they sailed on the Lusitania they would do so "at their own risk.” This meant and could only mean that the German Government forbade American citizens to do that which their Government had told them they had a right to do.

This violation of all diplomatic proprieties and virtual defiance of our Government on its own soil was intensified when the German Foreign Office, after the Lusitania had been sunk, ironically expressed its regret that Americans felt more inclined to trust to English promises than to pay attention to the warnings from the German side.

When Genet made a similar but far less reprehensible attempt to appeal over the head of the President to the American people, President Washington, although his country was then in its infancy and ill prepared to defend its rights, promptly demanded his recall. De Lome went home because of one slur on President McKinley

in a private letter, while Sackville-West was given his passports because he expressed an opinion in another private letter how an American citizen should vote. America compelled Spain to disavow the murder of the crew of the Virginius, and later sought to compel Mexico on short notice to salute its flag because American officers had been arrested by overzealous Mexican subordinates.

If Ambassador Bernstorff had been given his passports then, it is again probable that the Lusitania would never have sunk.

The Wilson Administration was not unaware of the gross impropriety of the action of the German Embassy, because it called its attention to it as a "surprising irregularity," but with this very mild rebuke, it permitted the German Ambassador to remain, and he has since influenced the action of the Washington Government as no other foreign diplomat has ever done. Emboldened by his immunity, his military and naval attachés, Von Papen and Boy-Ed, outraged every principle of diplomatic intercourse by making the United States a base of belligerent operations.

The impropriety of the German Embassy was emphasized when Dr. Dernburg, the semi-official representative of the Kaiser in America, cynically