General Türr pulled out of his pocket a copy of Garibaldi’s appeal and handed it to me. It is an interesting document, and it makes one realize how thoughts which are regarded as new have been conceived many years back, and how they are swallowed up in forgetfulness, no matter how eloquently they may have been spoken. Ever again and ever again they have to emerge, like something new, surprising people, until at last they become common property. In this appeal Garibaldi points to the enormous armaments of the sixties (what would he say to-day!); he laments that in the midst of so-called civilization we fill our lives with mutual threats against one another. He proposes an alliance of all the states of Europe; then there would be no more fighting forces on land and sea (that we should be now building air-fleets he did not foresee), and the enormous funds that have to be withdrawn from the necessities of the nations for unproductive, death-dealing purposes might be made available for ends that would improve property and lift the level of human life; these latter are then enumerated. The document also gives satisfactory answers to possible objections. “What will become of the multitude of men who are serving in the army and in the navy?” Rulers would have to study institutions of common utility if their minds were no longer absorbed in ideas of conquest and devastation.... In consequence of the advance in industry and the greater stability of commerce, the merchant service would soon take care of the whole personnel of the navy; the immense and innumerable works and undertakings which would spring up because of peace, the alliance, and security, would employ twice as many men as are serving in the army. The appeal concludes with warm words addressed to those princes to whom “the sacred duty is intrusted of doing good and cherishing that greatness which is higher than ephemeral false greatness,—that true greatness the foundation of which would be the love and the gratitude of the nations.” General Türr returned that same evening to Vienna and went the next day to Budapest, where he finished the laborious preparations for the Congress. Two days before the Congress opened we three followed him there. I say “we three,” for we took our niece Maria Louise with us; we wanted her to enjoy this journey and the social festivities with us. I see us on board a Danube steamer. It was a beautiful, sunny September day. There was quite a little peace band of us,—Malaria, Dr. Kunwald, the Grollers, husband and wife, and Countess Pötting, “die Hex”; of friends from abroad,—Frédéric Passy, Gaston Moch and his wife, Yves Guyot the former Minister, publisher of _Le Siècle_ and a great free trader before the Lord, the Grelix couple, and M. Claparède from Switzerland.