no political axes ground, no special privileges or preferments demanded; where oratorical “bunk” was hooted down; where social discrimination was taboo and military rank counted not at all; where the past glories of war were subordinated to the future glories of peace and where the national interest was placed above all partisanship—­that is something new under the sun.  It was in such a convention held in St. Louis during the second week in May, that the new spirit of the American army and navy expressed itself articulately for the first time since the armistice was signed.  The birth of the American Legion was attended by circumstances having a significance comparable with those surrounding the signing of a certain document in Philadelphia one hundred and forty-three years ago, come July 4th.

A brigadier general arises to “place in nomination the name of a man who—­” and is cried down by doughboys with calls of “Name him!  Who is he?” A proposal to give extra pay to enlisted men is unanimously defeated because, as Lieutenant Colonel Roosevelt put it, “we are not here to sandbag something out of the Government, but to put something into it.”  The invitation to make Chicago the next meeting place of the Legion is refused because “American soldiers and sailors don’t want to go to a city whose mayor would be ashamed to welcome such a convention.”  A progressive Republican, son of a famous father, refuses the chairmanship to quiet suspicion of personal ambition, and the office goes to a Southern Democrat of whose party the gathering is in complete ignorance.

One of the convention stenographers said:  “This is the funniest convention I have ever attended.”  We have an idea that there was an element of prophecy in her homely remark—­a body representing more than four million American soldiers and sailors that makes so little political noise is likely to be about as funny to the conventionally minded politician as a bombardment of gas shells.  This language of restraint in the mouths of organized civilian youth may prove to be a natural companion to the famous battle slogan of the A.E.F.:  “Let’s go!”

New York Evening Post, May 3, 1919.—...  The true usefulness of a veterans’ organization is not far to seek.  Like the G.A.R., the Legion should maintain and develop the comradeship bred by the war.  It can assist the unfortunate in its ranks; it can take care of the widows and orphans of soldiers, in so far as any inadequacy of public provision seems to make care necessary.  The Legion can preserve the fame of soldiers and commanders, by erecting monuments, by seeing that histories are written, and by proceedings of its regular reunions.  It can foster such a public recollection of the great deeds of the war as well as broaden and deepen American patriotism.  Sherman remarked in 1888 that there was some danger that a peace-loving generation in time of crises “would conclude