Dale Carnegie was right. And someone must have slipped the Kremlin a copy of his classic hand-book of advice to ambitious executives who want to conciliate their co-workers, for the last two months have marked a significant change in Moscow's attitude toward foreign powers.

Russian diplomats have abandoned their air of cool, almost hostile, detachment. They have shed the mantle of impeccable, uncompromising, righteousness, and have tried to cultivate the "common touch." Andrei Gromyko's boyish face was photographed at baseball games and heavyweight prize fights. Soviet Foreign Minister Molotov unpacked his broadest, heart-warming smile for the trip to New York aboard the Queen Elizabeth and accepted an opportunity to garner favorable publicity in the best American campaign tradition by taking a brief turn at the helm of the giant liner. At the opening session of the United Nations General Assembly, Molotov was friendly and quite optimistic about its chances for solid accomplishments.

But the most significant and promising gesture came from the Kremlin's pinnacle of power, Joseph Stalin, who twice within recent weeks has good-naturedly answered questionnaires submitted by foreign journalists. Stalin's replies, particularly those given to United Press' Hugh Baillie two days ago, have caused a minor sensation in the diplomatic world and have raised the hopes of peacemakers to a new high. Much of their optimism is justified, but all of it is not borne out by a close examination of Stalin's remarks.

Their purpose seems to be to create a new and more favorable atmosphere for international negotiations (rather than to announce an over-night change in the objectives of Soviet foreign policy,) especially when they are studied along with Molotov's statement yesterday before the U.N. Assembly. Russia favors international control of atomic power, but is still unable to agree to the proposals of the western democracies. She approves reunification of Germany, but not necessarily along the lines set forth by Secretary Byrnes. Both Stalin and Molotov are anxious for all the major powers to reveal the strength of their forces in "alien, non-enemy" countries; but Russia does not regard as "non-enemy" the countries in which most of her "occupation" troops are stationed.

Furthermore, the Soviets are still apprehensive of the influence of imperialists in England and America as is evidenced by Molotov's denunciation of Churchill and Baruch as prophets of aggression. Perhaps it is this same justifiable fear which has, at least partially, motivated Molotov's plea for international disarmament. Regardless of the reasons for this first Russian proposal for disarmament since the one made by Maxim Litvinoff before the League of Nations in 1927, if it is made seriously and in good faith, it can do more than anything else to convince the world of Russia's peaceful intentions.

This diplomatic ace in the hole, together with Stalin's frank disclosure of the number of Soviet divisions in Eastern Europe and the more personal, friendly working relationship with other statesmen which Russian spokesmen are now creating, offers little encouragement to the protagonists of World War III. Russia, while as yet making no major concessions, is demonstrating an increasing willingness to "talk things over." And when nations are willing to discuss their problems and give ear to one another's grievances, the chances for successful agreement are incalculably multiplied.

Russia is tentatively and haltingly, but with apparently sincere intent, making overtures of friendliness to the Western World. Any rebuff to her well meant gestures would be tragic. More than ever American and British leaders must demonstrate their desire to understand the Russian position. They must show by their actions that the red-baiting minorities in each country do not have the backing of those who formulate national policy.