I had the opportunity in New York of making the acquaintance of Mr. Pulitzer, the owner of the most widely circulated American newspaper, the _World_. His home (I was invited there to a luncheon) is of the most exquisite splendor, and two tall, wonderfully beautiful daughters are its life. But with all his wealth, all his power, the publisher of the _World_ is a poor man. Two of the greatest blessings of life this otherwise vigorous, young-looking man, not yet sixty, has lost,—his eyesight and sleep. Nevertheless, he works incessantly, dictates his leading articles, watches and regulates the whole course of his great paper,—a paper which does not belong to yellow journalism, but, on the contrary, has long advocated the peace movement. A few years ago, when the relations between the United States and Great Britain were strained to the danger point, the _World_ requested answers to a series of questions, and among the responses was one from the then Prince of Wales, which did much to allay the danger of war. If I had lunched a day later at the Pulitzer house, I should have made the acquaintance of Roosevelt’s opponent, Mr. Alton B. Parker. The _World_ favors the Democratic party without yielding to the illusion that at the present time the election can be won from the Republicans. Is not that a fortunate country that has only two political parties? Yet even there not everything is rosy in the political arena. They have their brazen-faced practice of corruption, economic battles,—trusts and strikes,—that is to say, capitalism and labor unions in hostile, threatening opposition (and various leaders of the latter bodies are said not to be superior to corruption). Alas! even there, too, there is need of what all politics, domestic and foreign, everywhere fails to possess,—the moral perception. Philadelphia—after New York and Chicago the largest city of the Union—offered us peace people a very favorable territory. This city, founded by Puritans, to-day still largely inhabited by Friends,—as the war-detesting Quakers are called,—dominated by the statue of William Penn who signed the treaty of peace with the Indians (the statue crowns the tower of the city hall),—this city is, so to speak, permeated with the sap of the peace ideas. Correspondingly cordial, therefore, was the welcome that was accorded the delegates of the Boston Peace Congress. The speakers at the public reception were the governor of Pennsylvania, the mayor of the city, the provost of the university, and the president of the academy. The governor referred to the widespread diffusion of our idea, which was daily gaining ground. The time, he said, could not be far away when collective humanity—the nation, the state—would be subjected to the same laws which enjoin upon individuals an appeal to right instead of violently taking the remedy into their own hands.