American newspaper man is when he tackles French) égaré. And the D.C. (in this case District of Columbia) does n't care a rap!

Of all these orthographic enormities the suppression of the cedilla is undoubtedly the greatest. The present writer once publicly suggested that although the name Divorcons, which the newspapers and the billboards would have us believe is the title of a well-known French play, is certainly neither French, English, nor Swahili, it may be Chicagoese since the second syllable rhymes nicely with 'pork.' Apparently this flippant suggestion fell as flat as did, some years back, the French puns in that delightful opera Véronique, of which only the 'Swing Song' has survived in America. (My own lasting recollection of the opera is the stony silence that greeted the heroine's description of her prospective stepmother as 'pa's encore.")

Our observations on the subject of foreign accents, which contained the sparkling witticism just quoted, awoke no sympathetic response anywhere. Even the editor published them reluctantly, and in the next week's issue permitted his printer to make us say something about the 'Academie Francaise' an institution that certainly was never heard of outside of these United States. Nevertheless, after more than four years of self-suppression, we summon up courage to repeat that we have small respect for Herr Müller, who repudiates his ancestry and becomes 'Muller' when he takes out naturalization papers in this country; that the contrast between the treatment of Max Müller's name in England and Hugo Münsterberg's in America is significant; and that, in the whole range of diacritical eccentricities, there is nothing so extraordinary as the way in which buffet is spelled over 1 Scientific American, Nov. 11, 1911, p. 429.

the doors of public houses in certain American cities. In Washington you may see 'buffét,' 'buffèt,' 'buffêt,' and even 'buffet'! - though Washington cafés are 'cafes,' nine times out of ten.

That these things happen is not half so remarkable as that they are accepted with cheerful acquiescence by everybody-except the unhappy scribe. Worse than acquiescence - not a soul notices them! Yet French and German are supposed to be taught in American schools.

I have done with the newspapers (for this morning). Their depravities would fill a library, until one wonders what is taught in so-called schools of journalism. But lest publishers of less ephemeral literature should be prematurely patting themselves on the back, let me hasten to say that our magazines and books are rapidly declining to the journalistic level.

The D.C. is willing to be convinced that when Harper's Weekly prints a story entitled, in the boldest of type, "The Case of Pièrre Lamotte,' the printer's devil, rather than the editor, should be sent to the penitentiary; but will it be believed that even a printer's devil could be found committing such crimes in Beacon Street? The Cornhill Magazine publishes a tale called 'Ständchen' (it is about the well-worn song of Schubert), and it reappears in the Living Age as 'Standchen.' Not an isolated and pardonable slip of the types, mind you: wherever this everyday German word occurs, in title, page-headings, text, and table of contents, the umlaut-mark is conspicuously lacking. I repeat, Littell's Living Age – a journal that once gave a cachet of puristic dignity to your library table! I wrote insultingly to the editor. I asked him since when he was printing Littell's in Americanese-vouchsafed the opinion that 'Standchen' is to 'Ständchen'

as 'git' is to 'get.' No reply has reached me, yet I still cling to the hope that one was lost in the mails reading thus:

'MY DEAR SIR: The deplorable error to which you call my attention was discovered by myself immediately upon my return to town after a month's vacation, during which I had entrusted the conduct of my magazine to the editor of the Black Cat. I have promptly brought an action against this person for defamation of character,' and so forth.

A recent addition to my private museum is the 'Paris Number' with which the publishers of Judge undertook to shock their readers on May 2, 1914. If any copies found their way to Paris, the attempt was undoubtedly successful over there. The picture on the cover is appropriately labeled 'Outré,' but the table of contents calls it 'Outre' (meaning 'besides' or a 'leather bottle' take your choice). Most of the pictures inside bear French titles; that is to say, they may conceivably have been French before the printer did his worst. The most noticeable feature of this shocking number is the accents, which are sprinkled in liberal and haphazard profusion over words to which they do or do not belong, and all of which are obviously home-made; in other words, they were not cast with the type, but inserted separately and

(1)

laboriously by the printer, and appea to be hardly on speaking terms wit: the letters. They must be seen to b appreciated. Last but not least, ther is only one cedilla, and it deserves: glass case all to itself. Not because it occurs under the word ici, where it does n't belong, but because the inspired printer has produced it by turning a figure 5 upside down! Let us hope he has had his reward! The Legion! of Honor has been conferred for less cogent reasons.

I really cannot resist the temptation to give you a peep at this particular bibelot and a few others from the same casket. There they are, at the foot of this page.

Exhibit One, ladies and gentlemen, is the clou of the collection. Apart from the opening word où, printed in the best newspaperese, without the diacrit ic, this specimen rises only once above the commonplace level - but then to what a height of virtuosity! The simplicity of the setting only enhances the splendor of that typographic gem imbedded of all places! in the middle of ici. As the French has it Voilà le hic. A subtle cryptogram, perhaps. Our attention is first arrested by où, then fascinated, paralyzed, by ici. In other words, to the breathless inquiry 'Where is it?' succeeds the rapturous ejaculation 'HERE it is — the original, the only Five-illa!' This alone

(3)

(4)

is worth the price of a copy of Judge. Nay, if the value of a magazine could be fixed by similar criteria to those that prevail in postage-stamp collecting, then the price of the 'Paris Number' might be bid up to something incalculable.

Let us not cavil over the fact that our typographic virtuoso did not keep his ingenuity in leash until he reached the 'francaise' of Exhibit Two. Genius is a law unto itself. The accents poised in mid-air over this specimen need not long detain us. We pass on to Number Three, where the 'on' for ou and the 'moyon' for moyen are as nothing to the capital initials in 'Le Meilleur.' We have, in our time, paid exploratory visits to 'cher Paris,' yet we have unaccountably overlooked Le Meilleur. It is no boulevard café - of that we are positive. Neither is it a dubious resort on the Butte Montmartre - a depraved friend of ours, qui s'y connaît, has assured us that he knows it not. One possibility remains those dressmakers' shops in the Rue de la Paix. Perhaps some reader of the gentle gender can help us out?

We decline to keep luncheon waiting

while we attempt to do justice to Number Four. After all, why reduce to mere prose formulas the fine phantasmagoric impression which this specimen of French as printed by a leading Fifth Avenue publisher produces upon the mind of any one who knows the French printed in France, Great Britain, Roumania, Peru, or the Solomon Islands? One stands spellbound before that sesquipedalian hyphen in 'Veuxtu'; those hiatuses after 'l'' before 'académie' and 'église'; that capital D in 'Dimanche'; above all, before those volatile accents, which here reach their highest pitch of volatility. (Puzzle - Find the one that belongs over 'mère.')

One staggering question suggests itself: If this is Fifth Avenue, what is Walla Walla, Wash.? To the D.C., at least, it is obvious that the latter place does not exist at all.

It is high time to stop, even though scores of egregious sinners among the publishers of magazines, and the whole book-publishing community, escape scot-free.

We have written without worldly preoccupations. It is evident that nobody will print this.

I

CAN a foreigner, belonging to a belligerent nation, publish his views of the policy of a neutral state, while a war is at its height, without running the risk of being told to mind his own business? Should he keep quiet and wait for the end of a war that shows no sign of ending, before he expresses his opinion as to how to end it?

My answer is that, in time of war, a foreigner is less entitled than ever to remain silent if he thinks he can help the interests of his country and the general interest as well. If he is mistaken, public opinion will dispose of him; if he is right, he renders a service to all. The war may suspend the course of solidarity between nations, but it does not prevent the existence of that solidarity, and, in fact, emphasizes its benefits.

Moreover, when I am asked, as a Frenchman, how I regard the duty of the United States, I can only refer to what I have always said and written:1 I am more than ever convinced that a great and young country such as the United States can realize its destiny only through peace. In these days, a war of conquest would be folly and nonsense, for the United States more than for any other country. For its own good and for the good of all nations, the duty of the New World is to experiment with

1 It must be understood that the author was requested by the Atlantic to write this article. The volume especially referred to here is America and her Problems, published by the Macmillan Co. - THE EDITORS.

a new policy, a policy of conciliation and respect for Right, in the place of the traditional antagonism and adventurousness of which we in Europe see the irreparably tragic results. The United States, which were held up to us in Europe, twenty years ago, as a danger, ought, on the contrary, to be our guides, like strong and clear-sighted children who end by guiding the footsteps of their parents when the old people's eyes are dimmed by age. But they cannot play this fine part unless they have no doubt as to the course they should follow and unless they do not allow themselves to be led astray by wrong education, by yellow newspapers, by bad and interested advice, and by the bad example of Europe. My duty as a European and a tried friend of the United States is to say, with the utmost possible emphasis, 'Do not let yourselves be led away on the wrong path as we were. Keep your youth and strength free from the blunders we have been committing for centuries. The price always has to be paid in the long run; the sins of the fathers are visited upon their children and their children's children. If you are wise to-day, you will sow prosperity, glory, and happiness for your descendants. Your error will be their misfortune.'

II. AMERICA'S DUTY

The duty of the United States is written in luminous letters in their short history. American democracy has grown tenfold in population, wealth,

and power in the course of a century of liberty and peace. Unlike its necessary and sacred internal struggles for independence, its three foreign wars waged in a century were not inevitable, and terrible risks have to be set off against their advantages. The most glorious and productive wars for the United States were those that were avoided-especially those that seemed most certain to occur-between Great Britain and her young and emancipated colony, from the Treaty of Ghent to our own times. The fact that this treaty of disarmament has been faithfully observed by both parties for more than a century is a victorious demonstration of a truth that is misunderstood and even ignored in Europe that peace can be durable. This experience has made other very important innovations possible, such as the first memorable attempt at arbitration over the Alabama case, and many others. What was done at The Hague was merely an outcome of the treaty of Ghent and the Alabama arbitration; and this is why the United States in 1899, and all the American republics in 1907, took a prominent part in it.

This being so, the incalculable advantages derived by the United States from the accomplishment of their duty in the past should dictate their duty in the present and future.

The United States, who were the promoters of the organization of international peace, see the very principles of their work threatened by the present war, and not only their work but the guaranty of their existence. Even assuming, contrary to all probability, that the great war of 1914-1915-1916 is some day proved to have been inevitable, that it is at least justified by results, and that it ends in the final and systematic triumph of Might over Right, then we must conclude that the experience of the United States was

nothing but a happy accident of an ephemeral nature, and even a mistake involving imprudent delay in completing their military organization. The only resource of the United States and all neutral nations will then be to repent of having believed in the possibility of peace, and to make up for lost time by abandoning productive activity and joining in the exhausting and unproductive race for armaments, all the while noting the absurd fact that this race was itself one of the principal causes of the war. In this way we reach the supreme mockery of all progress, or, shall we say, universal anarchy and the failure of our civilization.

If, on the other hand, the present war is universally condemned, as it ought to be, and placed on a level with the most monstrous crimes and inconceivable madness; if the United States refuse to contradict themselves, and give the signal for such condemnation; if they use it as proof that they alone were in the right and that their attachment to peace has benefited them, while the routine war superstition has been the ruin of Europe, then all the nations now fighting among themselves will be compelled to turn their eyes toward the United States standing firmly on their principles.

Here, however, there is room for a complete misunderstanding. The peace observed by the United States with Great Britain, for instance, or with France or Russia, has never been 'peace at any price.' It has always been based on a spirit of conciliation and justice, on mutual respect for right and on the guaranties provided by treaty. The violation of treaties is incompatible with peace, and is, in fact, the negation of peace and a crime against peace. By observing the Ghent treaty of peace with England, the United States have merely shown respect for right. As long as their example is followed, all