I have just received your letter of yesterday and in reply would say that I think you get impressions about public opinion in New York which by no means apply to the whole country, but nevertheless I think that your plan for a full exposition of some of the principal lines of German intrigue is an excellent one and I hope you will undertake to write and publish the book you speak of. I am writing in great haste, but not in hasty judgment you may be sure. Cordially and sincerely yours, WOODROW WILSON. I then wrote “Ambassador Morgenthau’s Story.” On September 30, 1917, I had contributed to the New York _Times_ an article headed, “Emperor William Must Go.” Then followed the _World_ interview already referred to, and, on October 18th, less than a month before the Armistice, I delivered at Cooper Union an address in which I said: There is only one way to chasten Germany and that is to defeat her so completely that the memory will not pass out of her mind for many generations. Such a defeat is absolutely essential to her reeducation along the lines of civilization and democracy. I will regard her utter defeat in a military sense, and the elimination of her war-lords, as the essential preliminaries to the new German democratic state. These changes are necessary to re-establish that healthy and normal mentality which is the first requirement if she is to emerge from the present war a nation with which the rest of the world can consent to associate as a brother. On March 8, 1918, I had a meeting with Lord Reading, Lord Chief Justice of England, whom Lloyd George had sent as special Ambassador to this country. In our conversation, he revealed a fact of great historic interest. The day before, at a luncheon given him by the Merchants’ Association of New York, Lord Reading had used what seemed a singular expression for an official representative of Great Britain. Referring to the gravity of the military situation and the necessity for America to exert her full strength, he described the tremendous sacrifices of his own people and then declared: “You must take up the burden. We _have_ done all we can do.” Recalling this in our talk, I suggested that it must have been a slip of the tongue, and asked: “Did you not mean to say, ‘We (Great Britain) _are doing_ all we can?’” “Quite the contrary,” Lord Reading instantly replied. “I said it deliberately, and it is the fact. Every Englishman that is fit for military service has been called to the colours; we have even combed our civil service. We have no reserve man-power left.” Nevertheless, public utterance of such a statement at such a time revealed a misconception of our national psychology. I pointed out to Lord Reading that we Americans were not yet far enough advanced in experience of war to react favourably to such a message.