of Germany into the League, he reverted to the perilous system of seeking extradiplomatic advantages for France.' England's amour propre was stung by the idea that Sir Austen Chamberlain had become M. Briand's tool- a feeling voiced by the Tory Saturday Review, a doughty defender of the present Government, in the caustic remark that things had come to a pass at Geneva where 'England expects every Swede to do his duty.'

Naturally the German press interpreted events in this light. Tägliche Rundschau, Herr Stresemann's own organ, declared: 'Brazil's veto of Germany's admission was the immediate cause of the unfortunate failure at Geneva. But the ultimate reason was Franco-Polish policy, which was supported by the English Foreign Minister, Chamberlain, with a zeal worthy of a better cause.' Deustche Tageszeitung, a Nationalist paper, said of Briand: "Perhaps he did not seek such a rupture, and the spirits he evoked were possibly in the end stronger than himself. But he is, nevertheless, the principal culprit in this huge intrigue.' Upon the whole, however, the German press, with the exception of organs of the extremists on the Right and Left, took the outcome in fairly good spirit, supported by a feeling that their country had gained rather than lost prestige from the episode. The Liberal Frankfurter Zeitung said: 'Serious statesmen are not deceived by these dramatic interplays of diplomacy. Such men follow the deeper currents of public opinion which give their true strength to national policies, and perceive that, in spite of all these follies and intrigues, the real interests of the people are asserting themselves.' Although one diplomat remarked that the Locarno Accord had been 'put in cold storage' until September, the cordial references to Germany in M. Briand's concluding address,

where he declared that Germany was already 'morally a member of the League,' which were so promptly seconded by Austen Chamberlain, and the obvious sincerity of their dismay over the complications that had arisen, took the sting out of any mutual recriminations that may have been heard from behind the firing line.

French papers, after a sort of whirlwind attack on Germany as the cause of it all during the early stages of the negotiations, suddenly shifted their attitude. Even the intransigent Journal des Débats admitted that 'for the moment all the actors at Geneva have blemished their reputations more or less by the proof to which they have imprudently exposed themselves.' Le Temps, which was particularly indignant for a time because Germany raised any objection to giving Poland a seat on the Council, ended by protesting against the disposition of the English and North European press to blame France for all the obstacles encountered, and recited the roll of that country's admirable services to the League. It pointed out that the adjournment was not taken because it was impossible to reconcile the views of France and Germany, but because the delegates recognized that it would take more time than could be given there to overcome the difficulties attending any revision of the League statutes; and it expressed the hope, by implication at least, that the outcome would not have such an effect upon public opinion in Germany as to force the Berlin Cabinet to withdraw its application for membership.

Italy, which to judge from its press must be having a Nationalist brainstorm, is probably the only important country where there was more or less real rejoicing over the breakdown. Her cool attitude toward the League is of long standing, and can be explained on several grounds: the bad taste that

anything associated with President Wilson has in the mouth of her politicians; unpleasant memories of the Corfu episode; a feeling that France and England dominate that body; and two immediate causes of resentment the fear that Germany, once in the League, will work for union with Austria and intermeddle in South Tyrol, and jealousy lest Germany be given a colonial mandate. In fact, the return of some of Germany's former African colonies under that form is generally supposed to be contemplated, with the assent of both Great Britain and France- and probably at Great Britain's cost. Italy, however, thinks that if the African pie is to be cut again she should have the first piece.

Popolo d'Italia, Mussolini's personal organ, declared that the Italian Premier himself was responsible for the Geneva failure. 'Assuming as they usually do that the League belongs to them, Sir Austen Chamberlain and M. Briand thought they could promise Germany a seat in its behalf. But when they reached Geneva they found that Brazil intended to have a say in the matter, and was forced to adopt the Italian proposal to adjourn until September.' This paper praised Brazil's 'firm, unwavering attitude,' and jubilantly exclaimed: "The League proves the paralysis that follows democratic methods. It is due to Signor Mussolini's prompt action that the curtain is rung down on this absurd farce.' Tevere, another Fascist paper, was equally self-complacent over the wrecking of the negotiations, and told its readers: 'Light comes from Rome, not from the city of Calvin. Italy, alone among the great nations, and thanks to Fascism, has long since abandoned all utopian ideas of peace. Peace can result only from a balance of warring forces, not from pseudo-evangelical preaching. Only thus can European nations renew their

vitality, and the best among them take the place of the decadent.'

La Tribuna, in an hysterical outburst two columns long, entitled 'Wilson, or The International Lie,' likewise vaticinated the fall of the whole Geneva structure, 'because it is founded on an international lie set up as an institution by Wilson at Versailles, which has since then had its doctrinal and devotional centre at Geneva.' It thus rehearsed the episodes of what it interpreted as the recent carnival of falsehood at that city: 'Poland swore that she was not animated by hostility to Germany in obstinately insisting on a Council seat, but simply by the desire to assist to better advantage, and more in accord with her population and political position, in the consolidation of peace. France professed to be equally disinterested in supporting and encouraging- if she did not suggest this generous aspiration.. Germany, on the other hand, was cruelly surprised. In her simpleminded honesty, she had never considered for a moment that upon entering the Geneva Council she would be in position to revive the question of the Danzig Corridor or of Upper Silesia, to manoeuvre a union with Austria, or to set herself up as a guardian of the oppressed national minorities. Still bedewed with the mystic unction of Locarno, she went to Geneva, with her arms and her heart loyally open, to labor shoulder to shoulder with her former enemies in the peaceful restoration of the world.' And this ironical rhapsody concludes that 'from beyond the Zuider Zee Batavian and Scandinavian preachers came, as they do every year, with their ruddy cheeks, their flaxen hair, and their round, blue, baby eyes, filled with fanaticism, to carry to the shores of Lake Leman their apocalyptic plans for the forcible redemption of the

human race, their hearts bleeding and their eyes moist with sympathy for their cousin nation, Germany, the unhappy victim of the armed peace of the Latin world.'

It should be borne in mind, however, that the real cause of the postponement was Brazil's insistence upon a permanent seat in the Council. Had the League been a purely European institution, a compromise would have been reached reasonably satisfactory to all countries. Moreover, Brazil has long asserted her right to a permanent seat as the largest nation in the Western Hemisphere represented in the League. She vetoed Spain's application for a permanent seat four years ago on that ground, and we are told that she notified Germany before the present session of the Council that she would adopt the same attitude on this occasion. Considerations of domestic politics, such as played a part in our own refusal to join the League, also governed her action. For a Presidential campaign is under way in that country, and the Party in power could make no concessions without losing votes. Senhor de Mello-Franco, the head of the Brazilian delegation at Geneva, said in defending his country's attitude: 'It's very strange that Europe should feel called upon to teach us how to keep peace. Perfect peace has prevailed in the continent I represent for more than a generation without any League of Nations. Can Europe say as much?' But his country's action was not approved by the majority of the Latin-American States. In fact, two thirds of them were dead against it and indignantly rejected Brazil's right, as a Portuguese-speaking country, to represent the Spanishspeaking nations of the New World.

The British press was bitter in its denunciations. The Nation and the Athenæum believed Brazil should lose

her temporary place upon the Council as a justifiable rebuke for her conduct. Naturally there were suspicions that Brazil was egged on by some other Power. These pointed toward Italy for a time, but that country officially denied giving Brazil any encouragement, and protested that her relations with the Rio de Janeiro Government were somewhat strained on account of the latter's treatment of Italian immigrants. Cautious hints were even advanced to the effect that Washington had inspired Brazil's obduracy. The Spectator questioned whether the Latin races had yet risen 'to the plane on which alone the League must live- witness the line taken by Spain toward Sweden.' The Outlook predicted that Brazil would probably withdraw from the League, and thought that the Geneva body would soon become 'a League of Old World nations,' thus confirming the New Statesman's opinion in regard to all South American States: 'It may well be that the League would be the stronger for their absence. They are young and they are irresponsible; they can fight among themselves as much as they like without disturbing the peace of the world; and, as long as the Monroe Doctrine holds and the United States refuses to join the League, we cannot interfere with them, nor they with us. . . . They know nothing and care nothing about the crucial problems of Europe. It might be a real gain to the League if they should all resign from it-pending the participation of the United States, which for the present, at any rate, is unlikely.'

Gilbert Murray, in a letter to the Times, pointed out that when the elections for a new Council come around in September the whole League will have an opportunity of voting. 'A member of the Council who has abused his power will certainly not be reëlected.

That is as it should be, and, incidentally, it is the one ray of light in the present troubles. What a state the League would be in if Brazil and all the other claimants had been permanent and irremovable, and each armed with a veto!'

Incidentally, it was forcibly brought to the attention of member States that have been inclined to defy the League's authority that their past record counts against them in that body. Poland's defiance of the League's decision in respect to Vilna was an effective argument against giving her a Council seat, while Sweden's acceptance of the Aaland Islands decision in her controversy with Finland appreciably increased her moral weight at Geneva.

Pending the meeting of the Assembly next September, the Council has appointed a commission to submit to that body a plan for its own reorganization. This commission consists of the present ten League Councilors with representatives from five additional States, two of which are non-members. These are Germany, which has not yet joined, Argentina, which has resigned, China, Poland, and Switzerland.

ISOLATIONISTS OR IRRITATIONISTS? THIS caption appeared at the head of a Westminster Gazette leader when, in the very midst of Europe's aghastness at the Geneva failure, dispatches arrived from Washington summarizing what purported to be Ambassador Houghton's pessimistic account of the European situation to President Coolidge, and Senator Borah's resolution upon contraband claims against the British Government. It might as well be frankly confessed that on the other side of the Atlantic the United States is perhaps the least popular country in the world probably running a close second to Soviet Russia. Most of the official friendliness toward us there is in

Great Britain and Germany, and that is not particularly cordial or abundantly backed by public sentiment. Naturally, therefore, these two incidents, occurring as they did at the very moment when diplomatic nerves were in a state of acute tension, were most untimely.

Senator Borah's resolution, while it affected primarily Great Britain, was promptly seized upon by the Continental press for an attack upon our Government. A former French Premier and Minister of Foreign Affairs characterized our claims as 'monstrous,' and declared that any attempt to extend that precedent to France would be promptly and decisively rebuffed. The London Saturday Review declared that 'British opinion will neither tolerate consideration of his (Senator Borah's) demands nor allow Anglo-American unity to be disturbed by his amazing proposal.' Several papers pointed out that, if America suffered losses from the seizure of her vessels carrying contraband during the early part of the war, she became a sort of accomplice after the fact by herself repeating the same procedures subsequently, and would logically expose herself to heavy claims from Scandinavia and the other neutrals parallel to those she contemplated pressing against Great Britain. French papers argued that our own country profited as a belligerent from every measure taken against the enemy countries during the earlier stages of hostilities, and that these benefits offset any bills we might present against our later associates in the war. Furthermore, it was promptly recalled that during the Civil War, and likewise after we were engaged in the World War, our Government was, if anything, more exigent in its interpretation of the rules of contraband and blockade than was Great Britain.

Mr. Houghton's report was chiefly resented, we suspect, because it seemed

to spell a curtailment of American financial assistance to Europe. Nouveau Siècle said it was typical of America's present mentality, and that Americans, 'intoxicated with the dollars that fill their coffers, imagine that the world belongs to them.' Figaro, which rather sedulously cultivates Franco-American amity, hastened to characterize the report, upon the strength of the version received at Paris, as the 'most hostile and perfidious testimony' ever given by a responsible American diplomatist against France. These ebullitions subsided upon the receipt of reassuring advices from Washington, though not without bitter after-comment upon the sensationalism said to characterize our diplomatic news service, with indirect allusions to our tumultuous Mexican negotiations as an example nearer home. Indeed, one French paper predicted that, if the good rela

tions of Europe and America were thus put to the test too often, 'the rift will some day become an open rupture.'

MINOR NOTES

EVER since the Dayton trial the European press has exhibited a revived interest in the Christendom-wide conflict -and we might perhaps include the world of Islam in the generalization between Fundamentalism and Modernism. The Outlook cautions its readers that 'we in Europe must not feel too superior to the Americans. We have our own literal interpreters of the Bible. In "civilized" Holland only the other day a pastor of the Dutch Reformed Church was suspended by the General Synod because in a sermon he expressed doubts as to whether the serpent had actually spoken to Eve as represented in Genesis.'