your way from Austin, Texas, to your present eminence and wisdom.  Nor was that the way our friend found his way from a little law-office in Atlanta, where I first saw him, to the White House.

More and more I am struck with this—­that governments are human.  They are not remote abstractions, nor impersonal institutions.  Men conduct them; and they do not cease to be men.  A man is made up of six parts of human nature and four parts of facts and other things—­a little reason, some prejudice, much provincialism, and of the particular fur or skin that suits his habitat.  When you wish to win a man to do what you want him to do, you take along a few well-established facts, some reasoning and such-like, but you take along also three or four or five parts of human nature—­kindliness, courtesy, and such things—­sympathy and a human touch.

If a man be six parts human and four parts of other things, a government, especially a democracy, is seven, or eight, or nine parts human nature.  It’s the most human thing I know.  The best way to manage governments and nations—­so long as they are disposed to be friendly—­is the way we manage one another.  I have a confirmation of this in the following comment which came to me to-day.  It was made by a friendly member of Parliament.

“The President himself dealt with Germany.  Even in his severity he paid the Germans the compliment of a most courteous tone in his Note.  But in dealing with us he seems to have called in the lawyers of German importers and Chicago pork-packers.  I miss the high Presidential courtesy that we had come to expect from Mr. Wilson.”

An American banker here has told me of the experience of an American financial salesman in the city the day after our Note was published.  His business is to make calls on bankers and other financial men, to sell them securities.  He is a man of good address who is popular with his clients.  The first man he called on, on that day, said:  “I don’t wish to be offensive to you.  But I have only one way to show my feeling of indignation toward the United States, and that is, to have nothing more to do with Americans.”

     The next man said:  “No, nothing to-day, I thank you.  No—­nor
     to-morrow either; nor the next day.  Good morning.”

     After four or five such greetings, the fellow gave it up and is now
     doing nothing.

I don’t attach much importance to such an incident as this, except as it gives a hint of the general feeling.  These financial men probably haven’t even read our Note.  Few people have.  But they have all read the short and sharp newspaper summary which preceded it in the English papers.  But what such an incident does indicate is the prevalence of a state of public feeling which would prevent the Government from yielding any of our demands even if the Government so wished.  It has now