You live today, and there are countless of us whom you will not know, who are glad, intensely glad that you live; glad of the power which you possess; deeply heartened to have you do what our souls would have us do. As I listened to you at the Harvard Union, above all I felt your living faith in your message. I am writing you because I believe that the hardest thing which our generation must bear is the mocking, bitter fact that human nature is utterly unable to comprehend that which is distant from it, or is inevitably forgetful of that which one was reality. You will be strong, indeed if you can leave America without feeling a cold gripping of your heart and a blatant clatter ringing in your ears. I should find it very hard to read such words as yours to our public, and so it is that I write you as one who knows and feels them deeply.

It is for more capable critics than I to praise your psychological reality, but I must add that I feel a beautiful restraint in your material description, which makes its significance the more powerful.

I regret the applause after each poem. The accumulation of your appeal was thus broken, yet it is through such lack of comprehension that we understand the awakening of our generation to, realizations unknown to those before us, much as the structure of their religion has failed us.

Your convictions are not without an answer here in America. Few Americans were on the front long enough to react after this ironical year of "Peace" to the smells and sounds of your words, without which we cannot grasp your great or caustic truths. We are dangerously equipped to inform those who follow us, and we look to you and others, as Barbusse, to aid us. That which was enabled to bring back with me from a few months of war's reality was founded on my vivid associations at your Fifth Army school during that army's Paschendaele attack in October, 1917. All this we must learn over here, and so I would express to you that the strength of your conviction is going far, very far. WILLIAM O. P. MORGAN, R.