are very simple. It furnishes young men an opportunity to meet other young men to whom, later, they will be able to sell real estate, bonds, life insurance policies, automobiles and advertising space. This is its real cultural sig. nificance in the community. The minorities, instructors and undergraduates, who give something else to it and get something else from it, are negligible numerically and in their effect upon the spirit of the nation. - Don Marquis,colyumist. You T is my firm belief that men and women, after fifteen or twenty years of married existence, would, if given the chance to choose again, select precisely the same wife or the same husband. Even those couples who lead rather a squabbling sort of existence would not wish to change. They probably know, in their heart of hearts, that with another spouse they would squabble a great deal more. Moreover, squabbling is a way some people have of enjoying themselves. One thing that I have realized is that couples who appear to disagree most violently are often the most devotedly attached.—Mrs. OU can never dragoon men by law Knives and forks will probably be A deep respect for law is essential, especially in a democracy like our own, but men who work constitutionally for the repeal of a law in which they do not believe are fulfilling their sacred civic duty just as certainly as the men who established the law. If we go on as we are we shall create a bureaucracy at Washington and a jobholder's regime in which one man in every three in the United States will be a political officeholder, and then we may as well move to Russia. Archbishop Curley of Balti more. IN N my opinion a good monarchy is better worth having than a middling republic and a good republic is preferable to a bad monarchy. Me de la Palisse (the proverbial Frenchman who always talks in commonplaces) would have said the same thing before me. The question is one of fact and timeliness, and that is something which it does not belong to me to examine now. For more than thirty years I have been the grateful guest of France and ordinary tact would forbid me to reason on what form of government is best suited to France-or to meddle with what does not concern me.-Maurice Maeterlinck. Thomas Hardy, wife of the celebrated novelist. THE HE only trouble with the League of Nations is that it represents a conception of international democracy that the world has not yet grown up to. Almost every nation now accepts the principle of democracy within its own borders. No government of a modern state can exist against the will of the people. But we are not yet educated to the idea of democracy among nations. Democracy, you see, implies a thing that has never been rec ognized between nations; implies that a nation of ten millions is equal to a nation of 100 millions; implies that Czecho-Slovakia, for instance, equals the United States. Now, I am not arguing that 10 does or ever can equal 100. In some things it never can, and it is not reasonable that it should. But there are things in which 10 does and must equal 100, just as surely as there are certain fundamental, equal rights in a democracy. That is the international principle the League of Nations now imperfectly represents. It is an idea as contagious and invincible as Democracy itself. Once born it can never die.Edouard Benés, Czecho-Slovak Premier. A HOHENZOLLERN WHOSE SWORD F SLEEPS IN ITS SCABBARD IVE years ago, Frederick William, the Hohenzollern, was driven into the bitter exile of the bleak and barren island of Wieringen in Holland. There, summer and winter, rain and shine, he has lived almost alone in a villa, small and comfortless, where, rid of his flatterers, and delivered from the etiquette of a court, he has faced, with the calculating courage of his cynical clan, the unadorned facts of life. Whatever royal nonsense may once have filled his head, he is now disillusioned. Expelled from his palaces and his command in the army, he might have thrown up the game of life and taken to wine or amused himself with light society, but he has adopted the discipline of an ascetic, and on his worn and haggard features the agony of self-control has left its mark. The seclusion of Martin Luther in the Wartburg or of St. Paul in Arabia was not more significant than the seclusion of this prince without a throne, who has been, as the Greek philosophers put it, "finding himself." During the war, the doughboy, the poilu and the Tommy dismissed the Crown Prince as an insolent young pup. He is now no pup, but a man forty years old. He has drained to the dregs the bitter cup of defeat. And he has come back to the stage of history both as a possibility and as a peril. "Let me have men about me that are fat," said Julius Cæsar, in the play; and of the ex-Crown Prince, as of Cassius, it may be said that he has "a lean and hungry look"; indeed, "he thinks too much," and "such men are dangerous." About revenge, this prince says nothing. On the contrary, with his father excluded from what seemed to be the safest throne on this planet, his heir is determined to find out the reason why. Bred an autocrat, he is studying democracy. He devotes himself to books, especially novels, written by American and British authors. Like the Crown Prince Regent of Japan and with more success, he cultivates those easy and familiar manners of a country gentleman which are so popular in the Prince of Wales He has become simple, pleasant, modest, the nonsense all knocked out of him. This at least is the impression that he is careful to convey. Usually monarchs out of business still pose as monarchs by divine right of birth. That was where the English Stuarts and the French Bourbons and the Austrian Hapsburgs made their mistake. They learned nothing and they forgot nothing. When Charles Hapsburg tried to return from exile, he made a beeline for his capital, Budapest, and summoned troops, and behaved throughout as Emperor and King. The result was that the Little Entente was alarmed, Czecho-Slovakia mobilized her army, and Hungary was made to realize that the price of a restoration would be war. It was the situation that confronted Napoleon when he returned from Elba. His mere presence in Paris rallied Europe against him. This is the danger which the Crown Prince, as his friends still call him, has had to avoid. Hence his scrupulous care to disclaim his hereditary pretensions to the throne. By seeking and obtaining a passport, issued in the name of the German Republic, he accepts the sovereign authority of the Republic which government he thus recognizes. In his trip across the country, he avoided all ostentation. He was careful not to enter Berlin. He received neither salutes from the army nor deputations from civilians. He has been simply a German citizen returning to the Fatherland-a German husband returning to his wife and six children-a German junker returning to his estates. The escape could not have been more adroitly managed. In the Treaty of Versailles it was not the Crown Prince, but his father, the ex-Kaiser, who was accused of a supreme offense against mankind. The indictment did not mention Frederick William's name. Holland has claimed, therefore, that she has the right both to receive him as guest and to allow him, when he wishes, to depart. And before taking the plunge, the ex-Crown Prince appears carefully to have estimated what, if any, reprisals he might have to expect from the Allies. He knew that the United States would take no action. And he judged rightly that France and Britain would be divided. While France proposed that she and Britain should respectively occupy Frankfort and Hamburg, Britain insisted that protests be limited to a note which, as drafted by France, she was careful to edit. The return of the exile was, in fact, timed just when a general election in Britain had become inevitable. Stanley Baldwin dare not proceed further against Germany, and Poincaré feared that if France took independent measures, Britain would withdraw from the Reparations Commission and all other diplomatic comradeship, while Lloyd George might again become a leading Minister. With Italy supporting Britain, France had to hold her hand. While the ex-Kaiser ranks first as a war-criminal, his son is obviously the more dangerous of the two men to-day. He still has life ahead of him. While he was, ten years ago, a hot militarist who undoubtedly fomented trouble in Europe, it cannot be alleged against him that he ran away from the battlefield or that he sought the consolation of a second marriage. He indulges in no sermons. He makes no pretense to medieval mysticism. He attempts no Byzantine rhetoric. He rattles no sabre. On the contrary, he offers you a cigaret, rides a bicycle through the mud, and is as modern, as realist as Bismarck, as Moltke or as Macchiavelli. It is amazingly clever. It means that this consummate actor should be closely watched. For while Germany is to-day a Republic, she has not ceased to be royal ist. The imperial family still holds property. Statues and portraits of Emperors still adorn streets, halls and homes. The late Empress, when she died, was buried with all pomp in the dynastic mausoleum of Potsdam. Prince Eitel Fritz, fat and forty, is still an accepted personage. And Prince Adalbert would have been also, had he not committed suicide. In Germany, there was doubtless revolution, but it was a revolution without a guillotine. It left the country with a landed aristocracy undisturbed and with numerous royal families, ready and anxious to resume their thrones. What Ludendorff attempted was the restoration of the Empire by way of Bavaria. And it failed. The ex-Crown Prince is quietly hoping for an invitation, direct to Berlin. She For he has a wife. Whether he has always made her a happy wife is open to question, but to-day the former Crown Princess Cecilie, bred in Mecklenburg-Schwerin, is, bar none, the most popular individual of either sex in the Fatherland. She is exactly what every German hausfrau wishes to be. To begin with, she is domestic. has borne and reared six children. And she has never whimpered or wailed over her distresses. It may be that, in a beauty competition, her features would not have won a prize, but her abundant hair, her brilliant complexion, her radiant smile and the gracious sweep of her figure rendered her, before the war, a princess second to none in charm. At the Coronation of King George V. she and her husband received an ovation that exceeded in warmth any accorded to other distinguished guests, and to-day this lady is to be reckoned among her husband's chief political assets. Apparently, she takes no part in public affairs. that is where she is wise. It is as herself that she is most admired. But And so at Oels in Silesia, the hope of the house of Hohenzollern calmly awaits his day. In thus settling himself conveniently near Berlin, he has doubtless got ahead of his all-highest parent who is by no means reconciled to abdication, even in favor of his son. And the very name Silesia suggests memories. No one can rightly estimate the concealed ambitions of the young Hohenzollern or his profound capacity for dissimulation who ignores the character of his ancestor, called by the historian Frederick the Great. Turn to the massive biography of that monarch by his admirer, Thomas Carlyle, and you see what it is that Holland has let loose on Europe. In face and figure, the ex-Crown Prince closely resembles his forefather. His fondness for English literature and manners is like Frederick's affectation of French culture and his friendship for Voltaire. No prince looked so harmless as Frederick until he was entrusted with power. And no prince was then more formidable. Without warning or justification, his armies leapt upon Silesia, the duchies which belonged to Austria, and the partition of Poland was largely his handiwork. For seven years, Frederick fought to retain his spoils. He was often confronting half Europe, single-handed. The population of Prussia fell during the struggle by 500,000 souls. And the King melted the silver of his own table for coinage. But he kept Silesia. No one tore that butter from that dog's mouth. And through all the misery of it, Prussia stood by the King. If anyone supposes that the ex-Crown Prince is reconciled to a Germany dismembered of the Rhineland and her eastern frontier, he is living in a fool's paradise. The ex-Crown Prince was educated on Carlyle's Frederick the Great. He looks, as Frederick looked, to Russia and Britain for help. He has his eye on a restored Germany, with himself on the throne. THIS CHILDLESS MULTI-MILLIONAIRE MAKES U.S. A. ORPHAN BOYS HIS HEIRS T HE name of a man who makes his home and money in Pennsylvania crept quietly but quickly into the newspaper headlines the other day when it became known that Milton S. Hershey had turned over some $60,000,000, practically the whole of a fortune acquired by a lifetime of labor, to found and perpetuate a school for orphan boys at Hershey, Pa. Strictly speaking, it was not a gift of sixty millions to what is called the Hershey Industrial School, but it was the income of all the common stock of the Hershey Chocolate Company. This stock, explains a New York Herald biographer, has a par value of $15,000,000. The plant and other property, including subsidiary corporations that it represents, could be replaced for something under $30,000,000. But the chocolate company is a very profitable concern. Its net last year was more than $4,000,000, possibly $5,000,000. So on a basis of earnings the $15,000, 000 of common stock is worth about $60,000,000. The control of the chocolate company, though, it is stated, will not pass out of Hershey control; not at all. The stock doesn't pass to the school, but to the Hershey Trust Company, as trustee. And the president of the Hershey Trust Company is Milton S. Hershey, and the treasurer of the chocolate company and other officers, including the general counsel, who really figures very largely in all these dealings, are directors of the trust company and therefore trustees of the school. About the person and personality of this new and unique philanthropist, we read, in the New York Times, that at 66 he is short, stout, ruddy-faced, grayhaired, with an easy smile. He has the look of what is called a practical man, who is very much at ease, but alertly watchful. He is not distrustful, simply careful, after the manner of million aires. He is pleased that he is a millionaire, and he wants to do much the same as other millionaires do. He is not without ego, as the town of Hershey, with its frequent reminders of its founder's cognomen indicates. It is emphasized biographically that he is a man who has suffered from what the psychologists call an inferiority complex, a handicap which he has overcome but not forgotten. He is likeable. No. theories about him, not even in the planning of his school and the gift of his business, but lots of hard thinking, according to his own rules. He talks slowly, and not very much at any time. An efficiency expert would probably rate him as a poor case, with no chance of success, if called upon to pass on his methods. According to all the rules, he is old-fashioned. He will not have a telephone in his home or office, and never uses one if he can avoid doing so. He seldom writes a letter, but sends many telegrams. He practically never signs his name to any form of document. This suggests a strong element of caution, if not suspicion, in his make-up, but incidental to believing absolutely in Hershey chocolates (which he does not believe in advertising) he also is firm in the belief that every man is honest until found otherwise, and maybe then. He does not believe in watching men or checking them up with a footrule. Over his desk hangs this motto: "Business is a matter of human service." The story of his zigzag progress from a printer's devil in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, to a chocolate Napoleon is interesting and is marked by failures antedating successes. As a printer's devil he remembers one day "dropping a galley of hand-set type-pied it, you know -and I can still hear what the foreman said in firing me." He then became an apprentice confectioner and is next heard of as making caramels in a small way, first in Philadelphia and afterIward in New York. But "things did not progress as they might have done and I gave it up in New York, coming back to Pennsylvania, where I started again [in Lancaster] in 1886. Caramels were my specialty. I thought that I could make better caramels than anybody else ever made. The business went well from the start. Before long I was selling caramels faster than I could make them." That was the day when the tissuewrapped caramel was a familiar confection. There were several large manufacturers. They proposed to Hershey that he join them in a "trust." He declined, but offered to sell his business. This was promptly accepted and $1,000,000 was paid him in cash. He had arrived. The sale of the business gave him an opportunity to explore new trade channels. He had been manufacturing chocolate to flavor his caramels. Now he turned attention to the production of chocolate as a confection. What is called sweet chocolate had been sold in this country for some time. Hershey developed milk and almond chocolate and put it up in bars, an innovation. The rest is industrial history. It was bar chocolate that built Hershey, Pa., the genius of the place having decided that Lancaster was not an acceptable site for the kind of plant he wanted. So he returned to the home of his fathers, now in the town of Hershey, and decided that he would build a city where his boyhood had been spent. In 1903 Hershey was a range of hills, largely given over to farming. To-day it has three or four car lines radiating to all the centers roundabout, the big Hershey plant, a trust company, a department store run for the benefit of the community, schools, homes, everything that goes into a model community. Hershey is not an incorporated town, but has a township government. Practically all of it belongs to Milton Hershey, including his seventy-five farms, scattered in the section near by. There never has been a labor union in Hershey and never a strike. Every three months each employee of the chocolate company receives an extra dividend on his labor. The payment for |