I obtained accurate details concerning the satisfactory proceedings of the Interparliamentary Conference, and the reception of their delegation at the White House, from the lips of several of its members, who, being also members of the Peace Unions, attended the Boston Congress, of which they brought us reports. Among them were William Randal Cremer (the last year’s laureate of the Nobel peace prize), Dr. Clark, Houzeau de Lehaye, and H. La Fontaine.

The opening of the Congress in Boston took the form of an imposing festival. Begun with religious exercises, supported by the lively interest of the public and the press, the event was regarded, throughout the country, as the event of the day; and all the more as the first statesman of the United States, John Hay, delivered the address of greeting. In this address, which, by the way, was telegraphed all over the world, there were none of those diplomatic “ifs” and “buts” and “to be sures” and “on the other hands” which are customary on such occasions; it was a frank, unreserved recognition of the justice and attainability of the aim of the Congress, and it contained the declaration that a new diplomacy and a new system of politics henceforth must accept the golden rule (“What ye will not have done unto you, etc.”) as a pattern of conduct,—a rule which has been banished from high politics hitherto by so-called practical politicians, on the ground that it was unpractical and idealistic. At this introductory meeting the great hall of Tremont Temple was filled to the last seat, and at least three thousand people tried in vain to obtain entrance.

About one hundred and twenty delegates came from Europe. That is not a large number; the majority and the most prominent among them came from England. Carnegie, whose attendance had been announced, was prevented from coming, and merely sent a significant letter. There were legions of addresses of approbation from various bodies, religious, scientific, industrial, and the like. One of the most noteworthy addresses, and absolutely unique considering the source from which it came, was subscribed, “Twenty-third Regiment, Massachusetts Infantry.”

Besides the regular transactions, which were followed by large, attentive, and receptive audiences, the Congress gave a great series of public meetings at which the peace question was elucidated from different points of view, as, for example, “the peace question and the school,” “the peace movement and socialism,” “the duties and responsibilities of woman in the peace movement,” and the like. The classes concerned thronged to all these meetings,—the women to one, educators to another, and laboring men to the third.

A meeting touching the question of disarmament, and offering as its chief speaker the well-known General Miles, was attended by many military men,—probably by some of that Twenty-third Regiment. If the Twenty-third Regiment has so much intelligence, there is no reason why the Twenty-fourth, and other regiments—and in other states as well as in Massachusetts—should not understand that, though they will do their duty while war exists, nevertheless the “warless time”—as the Prussian Lieutenant Colonel Moritz von Egidy saw it coming—is worth striving for.

The public interest aroused by these addresses was so great that, although several meetings were held simultaneously and in large auditoriums, every place was always filled to overflowing. The speakers were always assured of the greatest applause when they called attention to the fact that America’s glory and grandeur consisted in having attained such proportions without a standing army, safe without defense, giving the world an example of peace; likewise when voices were raised against imperialism, which seemed to be gaining ground in many places, or against the threatening increase of the navy and the danger that the poison of militarism might infect the whole land. Since the war with Spain this virus has certainly worked its way into the system; but, judging from what we saw, heard, and read in the papers (with the exception of the “yellow” journals), the American organism is protecting itself vigorously against it and will, it is to be hoped, cast it out altogether.

The scenes that took place at the socialist congress at Amsterdam were repeated on the Boston platform,—a Japanese and a Russian shook hands amid a storm of applause. According to old concepts were not both of them traitors to their native countries? Or is the whole thing somewhat comical? On the contrary, is not this action more attractive than that which was related on the same day in a report from the theater of war. In one grave two dead men were found clutching each other; the hand of the Japanese was clinched on the Russian’s throat and the Russian’s fingers had penetrated the eye sockets of the Japanese.

A Hindoo, in native costume, from the sacred land of the Lama, was also there. He complained of the desecration that the war had wrought in the monks’ places of devotion. “I come from the jungles,” so his speech began, “and to the jungles I return.”

A tiny Chinese woman, also in national costume, was one of the most popular speakers at the Congress. Her name is Dr. Kim. Educated by English missionaries, she had come to America to study medicine, and now she is going back to China to practice there. She speaks exquisite English, and with the sweetest voice and a smiling mouth she spoke the bitterest truths to the Europeans about the presumption with which they were trying to impose their warlike civilization upon an older and peaceful culture, and their dogmas upon a ripened philosophical view of the world, and, finally, were aiming to treat the Chinese Empire as a country to be looted.

“We can learn much from you, friends” (the word “friends” she spoke with a peculiarly sweet intonation), “that we grant; and if those lusts of conquest prevail, then we shall have to be grateful for learning from you, friends” (spoken tenderly), “the art of defending ourselves successfully against you.”