Is it not true? Even now along with the war’s destruction of life on the most colossal scale known to history, children throughout the world are dying at a rate that equals the military losses. In England a hundred thousand babies under one year of age and a hundred thousand more that do not succeed in getting born are lost annually. In America our infant mortality is 300,000 a year. In Germany it is half a million babies who die annually. The economics of the situation to a woman is not obscure. Conservation of the children we already have, is the advice of the real specialist in repopulation. One other suggestion she contributes. She has made it practically unanimously in all lands. In the Prussian Diet House it was one speaking with authority as the mother of eight who interpolated: “Meine Herren, if you would induce women to bring more children into the world you must make life easier for mothers.” “Messieurs, Messieurs,” called the Union Française pour le Suffrage des Femmes to the Société pour la Vie with its curious proposal of money grants in reward to fathers of large families, “to get children, you must cultivate mothers!” “Gentlemen,” declared the Duchess of Marlborough at a great public meeting on race renewal held in the Guild Hall, London, “care of the nation’s motherhood is the war measure that will safeguard the future of the state.” These amendments in birth politics offered on behalf of the Most Important Person have been practically adopted the world over. Chancellors of the Exchequer are everywhere busy writing off expenditures from the taxes running into millions, in support of nation-wide campaigns for the conservation of the child. Maternity from now on in every land takes the status of a protected industry. Britain is ready to devote two and one-half million dollars a year to schools for mothers. France has voted a “wards of the nation” bill, to provide for the care of 700,000 war orphans, at a cost to the state which it is estimated will mean an outlay of two hundred million dollars. Public provisions for motherhood and infancy are proceeding apace with provisions for the armies. If you are going to have a baby in Nottingham, England, a public health visitor comes round to see that you are perfectly comfortable and quite all right. And the municipality that is thus anxiously watching over your welfare solicitously inquires through a printed blank on which the reply is to be recorded, “Have you two nightgowns?” In Berlin large signs at the subway and elevated stations direct you to institutions where rates are moderate, or even the Kaiser himself will be glad to pay the bill. Similar facilities are offered by the government of France in the “Guide des Services Gratuits Protegeant la Maternite,” with which the walls of Paris are placarded. Even the war baby, whose cry for attention not all the ecclesiastical councils and the military tribunals commanding “Hush” has been able to still, at last is too valuable to be lost.