nation of which you constitute so distinguished a part, and this being a people's war, everybody concerned in the settlement knows that it must be a people's peace, that nothing must be done in the settlement of the issues of the war which is not as handsome as the great achievements of the armies of the United States and the allies. It is difficult, very difficult, men, in a formal speech like this to show you my real heart. You men probably do not realize with what anxious attention and care we have followed every step you have advanced, and how proud we are that every step was in advance and not in retreat; that every time you set your faces in any direction, you kept your faces in that direction. A thrill has gone through my heart, as it has gone through the heart of every American, with almost every gun that was fired and every stroke that was struck in the gallant fighting that you have done; and there has been only one regret in America, and that was the regret that every man there felt that he was not here in France, too. It has been a hard thing to perform civil tasks in the United States. It has been a hard thing to take part in directing what you did without coming over and helping you do it. It has taken a lot of moral courage to stay at home, but we were proud to back you up in every way that was possible to back you up, and now I am happy to find what splendid names you have made for yourselves among the civilian population of France as well as among your comrades in arms of the French Army. It is a fine testimony to you men that these people like you and love you and trust you, and the finest part of it all is that you deserve their trust. I feel a comradeship with you to-day which is delightful as I look about upon these undisturbed fields and think of the terrible scenes through which you have gone and realize now that the quiet peace, the tranquillity of settled hope, has descended upon us all; and while it is hard so far away from home confidently to bid you a Merry Christmas, I can, I think, confidently promise you a Happy New Year, and I can from the bottom of my heart say, God bless you. AT A BANQUET TENDERED BY KING GEORGE, Your Majesty: DECEMBER 27, 1918 I am deeply complimented by the gracious words which you have uttered. The welcome which you have given me and Mrs. Wilson has been so warm, so natural, so evidently from the heart that we have been more than pleased; we have been touched by it, and I believe that I correctly interpret that welcome as embodying not only your own generous spirit toward us personally, but also as expressing for yourself and the great nation over which you preside that same feeling for my people, for the people of the United States. For you and I, sir-I temporarily embody the spirit of two great nations; and whatever strength I have, and whatever authority, I possess only so long and so far as I express the spirit and purpose of the American people. Any influence that the American people have over the affairs of the world is measured by their sympathy with the aspirations of free men everywhere. America does love freedom, and I believe that she loves freedom unselfishly. But if she does not, she will not and cannot help the influence to which she justly aspires. I have had the privilege, sir, of conferring with the leaders of your own Government and with the spokesmen of the Governments of France and of Italy, and I am glad to say that I have the same conceptions that they have of the significance and scope of the duty upon which we have met. We have used great words, all of us, we have used the great words "right" and "justice", and now we are to prove whether or not we under stand those words and how they are to be applied to the particular settlements which must conclude this war. And we must not only understand them, but we must have the courage to act upon our understanding. Yet, after I have uttered the word "courage," it comes into my mind that it would take more courage to resist the great moral tide now running in the world than to yield to it, than to obey it. There is a great tide running in the hearts of men. The hearts of men have never beaten so singularly in unison before. Men have never before been so conscious of their brotherhood. Men have never before realized how little difference there was between right and justice in one latitude and in another, under one sovereignty and under another; and it will be our high privilege, I believe, sir, not only to apply the moral judgments of the world to the particular settlements which we shall attempt, but also to organize the moral force of the world to preserve those settlements, to steady the forces of mankind and to make the right and the justice to which great nations like our own have devoted themselves the predominant and controlling force of the world. There is something inspiriting in knowing that this is the errand that we have come on. Nothing less than this would have justified me in leaving the important tasks which fall upon me upon the other side of the sea, nothing but the consciousness that nothing else compares with this in dignity and importance. Therefore it is the more delightful to find myself in the company of a body of men united in ideal and in purpose, to feel that I am privileged to unite my thought with yours in carrying forward those standards which we are so proud to hold high and defend. May I not, sir, with a feeling of profound sincerity and friendship and sympathy propose your own health and the health of the Queen, and the prosperity of Great Britain? AT A RECEPTION BY THE OFFICIALS OF LONDON IN THE Mr. Lord Mayor: GUILDHALL DECEMBER 28, 1918 We have come upon times when ceremonies like this have a new significance, and it is that significance which most impresses me as I stand here. The address which I have just heard is most generously and graciously conceived, and the delightful accent of sincerity in it seems like a part of that voice of counsel which is now everywhere to be heard. I feel that a distinguished honor has been conferred upon me by this reception, and I beg to assure you, sir, and your associates of my very profound appreciation, but I know that I am only part of what I may call a great body of circumstances. I do not believe that it was fancy on my part that I heard in the voice of welcome uttered in the streets of this great city and in the streets of Paris something more than a personal welcome. It seemed to me that I heard the voice of one people speaking to another people, and it was a voice in which one could distinguish a singular combination of emotions. There was surely there the deep gratefulness that the fighting was over. There was the pride that the fighting had had such a culmination. There was that sort of gratitude that the nations engaged had produced such men as the soldiers of Great Britain and of the United States and of France and of Italy-men whose prowess and achievements they had witnessed with rising admiration as they moved from culmination to culmination. But there was something more in it, the consciousness that the business is not yet done, the consciousness that it now rests upon others to see that those lives were not lost in vain. I have not yet been to the actual battlefields, but I have been with many of the men who have fought the battles, and the other day I had the pleasure of being present at a session of the French Academy when they admitted Marshal Joffre to their membership. That sturdy, serene soldier stood and uttered, not the words of triumph, but the simple words of affection for his soldiers, and the conviction which he summed up, in a sentence which I will not try accurately to quote but reproduce in its spirit, was that France must always remember that the small and the weak could never live free in the world unless the strong and the great always put their power and strength in the service of right. That is the afterthought-the thought that something must be done now not only to make the just settlements, that of course, but to see that the settlements remained and were observed and that honor and justice prevailed in the world. And as I have conversed with the soldiers, I have been more and more aware that they fought for something that not all of them had defined, but which all of them recognized the moment you stated it to them. They fought to do away with an old order and to establish a new one, and the center and characteristic of the old order was that unstable thing which we used to call the "balance of power"—a thing in which the balance was determined by the sword which was thrown in the one side or the other; a balance which was determined by the unstable equilibrium of competitive interests; a balance which was maintained by jealous watchfulness and an antagonism of interests which, though it was generally latent, was always deep-seated. The men who have fought in this war have been the men from free nations, who were determined that that sort of thing should end now and forever. It is very interesting to me to observe how from every quarter, from every sort of mind, from every concert of counsel, there comes the suggestion that there must now be, not a balance of power, not one powerful group of nations set off against another, but a single overwhelming, powerful group of nations who shall be the trustee of the peace of the world. It has been delightful in my confer |