of all sorts and kinds, and yet its production of men and women may touch the highwater mark of prosperity.

Who shall dare to say to-day that France is not passing through the most prosperous period of her history; that in her deep silence, so significant of unshaken resolution and sublime sacrifice, there is not achievement of the very highest order; that in her resolute consecration of all her forces to defend the integrity of her national soul there is not a revelation of the very highest

good fortune? That is a prosperous country in which men die and women labor without murmuring for something which does not make for their individual gain. It is said that the women of the streets in Paris have practically disappeared from the places that used to know them; that they are one and all at work in the making of munitions. such a statement there is the revelation of a more genuine and enduring prosperity than in all the reports of banks and of commercial activity.

In

P

EOPLE who have experienced an earthquake have said that the terror it inspires arises not from the ruin it occasions but from the fact that the heaving of the earth itself deprives one of the sense of self-control, as if one were bereft of reason. For more than three years now Mexico has been shaken by a social and political earthquake, and the terror that it has caused has arisen from the fact that the foundations of life seem to have gone. This, at least, is the impression that is gained from reading a remarkable small book that has just been issued from the press of Smith & Thomson, 58 Broad Street, New York City.1

Of all the books and articles that have been written on Mexican events of the last three or four years, there is none that is written with more clearness, vigor, compactness, and epigrammatic force; and although the author speaks his mind frankly and does not extract the bitterness from what he is convinced is the bitter truth, never once, so far as we have noted, does he trespass beyond

The Mexican Policy of President Woodrow Wilson as It Appears to a Mexican. By Manuel Calero, Secretary of State and of Foreign Relations of the Mexican Republic in the Cabinet of President Francisco L. Madero, and, later, Mexican Ambassador to the United States. Press of Smith & Thomson, New York. Price, 25c. On sale in bookstores and at news-stands.

the bounds of courtesy. This book is wholesome reading for Americans.

"Peace and liberty," "constitutional government,' the pacification of Mexico," aid for people" struggling toward liberty," have been the avowed objects of President Wilson's Mexican policy. It might seem, therefore, that a Mexican who arraigns that policy, as the author of this book does, must be a reactionary, an opponent of democratic aspirations, a believer in the theory that only the best people" are fit to rule or even to aspire to rule. The most interesting single fact about this book is that the contrary is true. The author of "The Mexican Policy of President Woodrow Wilson as It Appears to a Mexican" was an associate and coadjutor of the man who started the uprising against Diaz, President Francisco I. Madero. He was a member of Madero's Cabinet, and, later, Mexican Ambassador to the United States. In his book he calls Huerta "traitorous," and terms Diaz a" tyrant." He arraigns the Wilson policy, not because it has aided the cause of popular rights, but because it has impeded that cause. One might expect a member of Madero's Cabinet at least to approve Mr. Wilson's (Continued on page following illustrations)