The beach is deserted. As far as the eye can see there is not a living creature. The bath houses and covered chairs and booths are all moved off—or have the billows carried them away? The high, foam-capped breakers tumble over one another and come nearer and nearer, and are already dashing over the terrace wall. Perhaps the whole terrace may be destroyed, as it was a few years ago. And all the time this tumultuous lamentation! How can one feel cheerful?

Truly, there is reason enough for melancholy. This Conference, which should show sorrow-laden, danger-threatened mankind a way to get finally rid of the sorrow and the dangers which arise not from the elements but from their own selves,—how its work has met with misunderstanding and resistance both in the world outside and in its own midst! Nowhere enthusiastic aid—nay, not even eager curiosity, and not once a warm word from those who hold the power in their hands. Cold, cold are all the hearts—cold as the draft that penetrates through the rattling windows. I am chilled to the bone!

In the evening a festival in the concert room in honor of the American delegates. The decorations are star-spangled banners; there is a rendering of American songs. Dr. Holls tells me that the Grotius festival was a brilliant success, and useful words were spoken, especially by Ambassador White. He also informs me that the permanent Court of Arbitration is accepted. Only the paragraph about obligatory cases is omitted.

July 5. In reply to my note of regret, addressed to Andrew D. White, and explaining that our absence from the festival was caused by the weather, I receive the following reply:

House in the Wood, July 5, 1899

Dear Baroness von Suttner:

We were very sorry not to see you and the Baron at Delft, but we fully understood and appreciated the reason. We really did not expect more than a dozen or twenty people, and were greatly surprised to see so large a number present.

It was to me very inspiring and gave me new hopes as to the results of the Conference.

I beg you not to forget what I urged upon you at our last meeting. We are to accomplish here more than we dared hope when we came together,—far more; and the great thing is to prevent thoughtless, feather-brained enthusiasts from discrediting the work, since to do so is to discourage all future efforts of this sort.

We have paved the way for future conferences which will develop our work—unless the people at large are taught that nothing has been done in this way.