The two bodies are really at bottom only two different forms of the same movement, closely connected, the one an outgrowth of the other; the upper and lower house of the same parliament, so to speak. The unconstrained intercourse in an exalted frame of mind, plus the joyous acclamations of the populace, the waving of banners, the bands of music,—all this brings on fraternization and mutual understanding more, almost, than the deliberative work that precedes it. Besides, what can be produced by the congresses does not consist in effective paragraphs of law; it is only a fundamental thought that is to be championed—a great, shining, heart-warming fundamental thought—the principle of the solidarity of nations, the fellowship[34] of all the civilized peoples. Of such a fellowship void of enmity we surely have a joyous foretaste when we—the representatives of seventeen different nations—banquet around a flower-decorated table (the word PAX in white camellias on a green background) or take a jolly excursion in a special train furnished by the government, are greeted on our arrival by a crowd shouting evviva and received with official manifestations of respect, and take our places in the waiting landaus or banner-hung boats—and all this under the gracious ensign of harmony; they were intoxicating moments full of blessed inspiration. We forgot that what we had come to battle for there is not yet attained, that the world outside is still in the sign of Hate; at all events the world that we were just then in the midst of was unanimously inspired by the same faith, the same ideal. Yes, they were—I had almost said—“never-to-be-forgotten” hours! There such images and impressions were imprinted on our minds as could be received only in such circumstances. It is one thing for a solitary tourist to wander through the streets of Pompeii, another thing for a happy pair on their wedding journey; still another for the assembled participants in a Peace Congress. All thoughts converge to the same paramount center. The view of Vesuvius, for example, whose summit was enveloped in clouds of smoke, could only on this occasion have suggested to a traveling politician the following observation which I heard from the lips of our Austrian delegate, Baron von Pirquet: “How the old volcano hides his face in a veil of fog—apparently he is ashamed, in presence of us friends of peace, of the destruction which he has poured out upon the poor city and its wretched inhabitants. And yet what is the petty mischief that he has on his conscience compared to the devastation and scenes of horror that were spread over this very same region by the martial legions!... How infinitesimal are the crimes of such a mountain against mankind in comparison with the crimes against mankind which men perpetrate; it is for us to be ashamed.”