"King Albert's Book," Germany knew that before the tribunal of the
civilized world she stood tried and condemned. But though representative
men and women in thirteen different countries united within the
covers of the historic volume to express their abhorrence of Germany's
iniquity, the whole weight of the world's condemnation could not be
included.

From many of the neutral nations there came pathetic cries of inability
to join in the general protest. Famous men wrote that the neutrality of
their countries imposed upon them the duty and the penalty of silence.
"My brother is a member of our Government," wrote one illustrious man
of letters, "and if I am not to get him into trouble I must hold my
tongue." Another, whose German name, if it could be published, would
carry weight throughout the world, said: "I know where my sympathy lies,
and so do you, but I dare not speak, for I am a German-born subject, and
to tell what is in my mind would be treason to my country." This message
came from a remote place in Spain, the writer having been compelled
to fly from France, because his blood was German, while unable to take
refuge in Germany because his heart was French.

THE PART PLAYED BY THE UNITED STATES

Perhaps the most tragic of these vistas of the sufferings of great souls
in neutral countries came from the United States. Profoundly affecting
were nearly all President Wilson's public utterances, even when, as
sometimes occurred, our sympathy could not follow them. And certainly
one of the most vivid of the flashes as of lightning, whereby we have
seen the war in its moral aspect, was that which showed us the United
States, at his proclamation, arresting for a whole day, on October 4,
1914, the immense and tumultuous activities of her vast continent in
order to intercede with the Almighty to vouchsafe healing peace to His
striving children.

It was a great and impressive spectacle. As I think of it I seem to feel
the quieting of the headlong thoroughfares of Chicago, the hushing of
the thud and drum of the overhead railways in New York, and then the
slow ringing of the bells in the square tower of that old Puritan Church
in Boston--all calm and peaceful now as a New England village on Sunday
morning.

But truth to tell we of the belligerent countries were not deeply moved
or comforted by America's prayers. We thought our cause was that of
humanity, and the sure way to establish it was by protest as well as
pr