go round. There is a good deal of work being done by skilled workmen now, highly skilled men of years' training, which can just as easily be done by those who have only a few days' training. We want to turn the unskilled on to work which these can do just as well as the highly skilled, so as to reserve the highly skilled for work which they alone can do. Take shell-making, for instance. Instead of put

ting skilled people to that work, what we would like to do would be to put on, say, ten or eleven unskilled men or women to one skilled man to look after them."

The speaker then went from the explanatory, and the defensive, to a swift offensive that swept his hearers off their feet:

"The reports we get from our own offices, the War Office and the Munitions Department, show that if we had a suspension during the war of those customs which keep down the output, we could increase it in some places 30 per cent., in other places 200 per cent. Between 30 and 200 per cent.-well, I will hardly need to tell you that makes the difference between victory and defeat in the quantity you could turn out and place at the disposal of our armies.''

Adding instance to instance, piling proof on proof, he went on to show how persistence in these very trades-union practises which the men had undertaken to suspend had been hampering the munitions supply at every turn. He rose to a dramatic climax in pointing out the shame of their having interfered with Belgian workmen :

66 The Belgian workman has several reasons for putting his back into his work. But whenever he has worked his best he has always been warned that he was breaking some trades-union custom. He has been invited to desist, and he does not understand it. His home has been destroyed, his native land has been ravaged, Belgian women have been dishonored, Belgian liberties have been trampled under foot; and Belgian workmen can not understand entering into any conspiracy to keep down the output of rifles and guns and shells to drive the oppressor from the land which he is trampling under foot. I do say that if there is any man who wants to dawdle while his country is in need of him, do let him have the decency at least not to appeal to Belgian workmen not to avenge the dishonor of their country."

The head of many a British workman was bowed in shame after these words had been spoken; not one but lifted up cheers when the Minister of Munitions, with a fervent appeal for help and cooperation, brought his speech to a close and rushed off to board the train waiting to take him back to London. From Belfast to Birmingham, from the Clyde to the Thames, British labor writhed under the lash that had been laid along its back. Then fine manliness asserted itself. British labor began to put its house in order. Delegations

from all classes hurried to London and sundry conferences were held at the Ministry of Munitions. Finally, on. the 18th of September, 1915, a fresh undertaking on the part of labor was announced, by which the workmen agreed to "cut out the frills and get down to brass tacks." There have been more finished oratorical efforts in English history than Lloyd George's speech, but there is serious doubt if one was ever fraught with greater import.

Lloyd George could usually be seen-often on a few moments' notice by any one whom his secretary deemed warranted in having the privilege. But he would not be interviewed for publication, nor send a "message to the public," or undertake to answer any written questions summitted. Mr. Freeman, whose article 48a is summarized here, related how on the day after that famous Bristol speech, he chanced to be lunching at a political club near the Houses of Parliament, with a technical expert of the Munitions Department, when Lloyd George, another Cabinet Minister, and a couple of M.P.'s were at a near-by table. "Lloyd George doesn't know me from Adam," said Mr. Freeman's friend, "but I can not miss the chance of congratulating him on his great speech." Stepping to the other table, he extended his hand, with a word of explanation as to who he was. Lloyd George, who had been accepting without rising a running fire of felicitations, was on his feet in an instant.

"You're C- of the BE- Company, I know," said he. "You came from South Africa at your own expense and have been working in the Munitions Department at a fraction of your regular salary. You have been in the hospital for a month with chronic dysentery, and have only been back at your desk for a week. It's a shame I haven't even sent word to tell you and the other chaps with you who have come from the ends of the earth to help us, how deeply we appreciate your sacrifices and services. I don't know what we should have done without you all. By the way, isn't there a young American explosive expert from Johannesburg working with you-a chemical engineer named Q- I think it is? Please tell him how especially fine I think it is that he should have joined us to 'do his bit.' I'm going to get around to see you all before long." "By Jove!" ejaculated Mr. Freeman's friend, as he rejoined him at the table; "I was so taken aback that I quite forgot to congratulate him on his labor speech. Think of his having such a line as that on our work!"

As Chancellor of the Exchequer Lloyd George saw his country through the chaos of the first months of the war when the pillars of the financial world were shaking to their foundations. As Minister of Munitions he found the way out of another chaos no less 48a In The Review of Reviews.

baffling and then came his splendid career as Prime Minister, of which the record is writ large in histories of this war.

Before the war ended a sort of legend had grown up around the name and fame of Lloyd George, who was described by Isaac F.. Marcosson, in the World's Work, as "the most picturesque and challenging figure of the English-speaking race." Only one man— Theodore Roosevelt-rivaled him for this plural distinction. Reducing the wizard to a formula, Mr. Marcosson described him as “50 per cent. Roosevelt," in the virility and forcefulness of his character, "15 per cent. Bryan," in the purely oratorical phase of his make-up, the rest "canny Celt opportunism." It was with Roosevelt that the happiest comparison could be made. Lloyd George was the British Roosevelt, the Imperial Rough Rider, the minor distinction between them being that the head of the British Government, instead of flourishing a "big stick," employed a compelling voice. Each was more of an institution than a mere man; each dramatized himself in everything he did; each had a genius for the benevolent assimilation of idea with fact. One could trust Lloyd George as one could Roosevelt to know all about the man who came to see him, whether he were statesman, author, explorer, or plain captain of industry. That was one of the reasons why he maintained his political hold. He also had Roosevelt's striking gift of phrase-making, altho he did not share the American's love of letter-writing. There was a tradition that the way in which to get a written reply out of him was to enclose two addrest and stamped postal cards, one bearing the word "Yes," and the other "No." Like Roosevelt, Lloyd George was past master in the art of effective publicity. Each projected upon the public the fire and magnetism of a dynamic personality and each had been the terror of the corporate evil-doer.49 Roosevelt had one distinct advantage over him in that he was a deeper student and had wider learning. On the other hand, Roosevelt was no match for the eloquent Welshman in oratory. The stage "lost a star when Lloyd George went into politics."

So wrote Mr. Marcosson, but the Rev. Charles F. Aked went further and maintained that Lloyd George was one of the foremost orators of all time. Dr. Aked once spoke from the same London platform with him, when he was not and never had been a member of the British Government. Five thousand persons had gathered at what was to be a Liberal demonstration. Dr. Aked described the meeting, Lloyd George being then a comparatively obscure member of Parliament:

"He was suffering from a bad attack of stage-fright-or thought he 49 In Everybody's Magazine.

was. He profest the utmost misery when waiting for the meeting to begin. He asked if I ever suffered the same unutterable wretchedness before facing an audience, and added, 'I feel as if I were in the condemned cell waiting to be led out to be hanged. There (pointing to the Chairman) is the Governor of the jail, and (to me) there is the Chaplain. And I don't know whether I would not sooner be led out to the gallows.' I really think his speech that night was the greatest of his amazing career. He was not eloquent, but eloquence, not passionate but pure and living passion. When he reached the 'grand style' as he often did-or did in those years-there was something weirdly coercive in the physical qualities of his voice, something uncanny, defying analysis, indescribable. It seemed to us as we came away that nothing finer could ever have fallen from human lips than his peroration about the streams gathering in his own Welsh mountains until a torrent swept through the valleys, and, of course, he meant this to illustrate the gathering floods of righteous sentiment which were to sweep privilege and obstruction and all the rest of it into oblivion. Commonplace? Familiar stuff for perorations? Quite so; but the thrill and the leap and the gladness and the glory in it weresuperhuman.'

MARIE ADELAIDE, THE FORMER GRAND DUCHESS OF LUXEMBURG

Marie Adelaide in a military sense was not an ally of Germany, but in a moral sense she was commonly so regarded in Entente councils. Journalists were baffled again and again in their efforts to see her inside her palace in Luxemburg where she was the most interesting of all German prisoners of war, for such, as a matter of fact, she was. Germany, however, denied that she was a prisoner. She was an independent and reigning sovereign of a neutral nation, they said, rather than a prisoner or an ally of the King of Prussia. She was, however, to all appearance devoted to the cause of the Fatherland. Only twenty years of age, she was for four years surrounded in her capital by guards of honor, virtually her jailers, against whom she sometimes fumed. London and Paris dailies described an interview during the war between her and Emperor William, in which she declined to be seated during the conference, and so forced the Emperor to stand, for even a Hohenzollern might not take a chair in the palace of an independent sovereign until he had been invited to do so.

So profound was the mystery that surrounded her destiny before the war that for months she could have been called maid, wife, or widow-which she was none could tell. For months her betrothal to Prince Henry of Bavaria had delighted the Pontifical Court, since both were fervently Roman Catholic and Luxemburg had been ravaged by Anticlerical queries. As to what had become of the supposed Bavarian consort inspired fantastic rumors. The German

Emperor figured in one story as the heavy villain of the piece. He had menaced the Grand Duchess with his displeasure unless she espoused one of his own sons. A secret marriage, a compulsory divorce, a solemn betrothal and partings in grief and tears, all had their place in stories of this the most sentimental matrimonial complication of the war. She could not, as a Catholic, secure a divorce, and a new marriage into which she might have entered would have been void from the start. There were many eligible royal bridegrooms among German princes, many among Balkan princes, while in Russia the Grand Duke Constantine was twenty-six, to say nothing of six other Grand Dukes on the list, all wealthy. The Grand Duchess of Luxemburg would not have lacked suitors could they have gained access to her presence and had she been really marriageable.

The Grand Duchess and her five younger sisters were of a much more ancient branch of the house of Orange-Nassau than that to which the Queen of the Netherlands belonged. She had been received with much enthusiasm in Luxemburg when, on the attainment of her legal majority, she headed a glittering procession to the legislative palace and there vowed fidelity to the national constitution. She was accompanied by her august Portuguese mother, the Infanta Marie Anne of Braganza, from whom the Grand Duchess inherited her piety; by her sisters, by her venerable grandmother, by the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Baden, devoted relatives always, and by the Prince Alois of Loewenstein, to say nothing of a brilliant suite. Majesty was in every gesture with which the Grand Duchess ascended the steps of the throne and announced to the brave assemblage that she had assumed her proper rank among the sovereigns of the world, ruling a nation free and independent.

A diplomatist on a mission in Luxemburg edified the Parisian press with impressions of her spirit in what he called her "captivity." Her trim young figure was shrouded in black and her eyes showed traces of weeping. She had given up horseback-riding, but occasional glimpses obtained of her in the park by the curious who passed sentries suggested that she was in fairly good health and able to enjoy the fresh air; but the smiles were gone from her face. Her own functionaries had been removed by the German officers during the war, and their places given to Prussians, with whom she would hold no communications.

She had the long oval face characteristic of the princesses of the house of Orange in the elder branch, and blushed with almost no provocation at all. Her hair was the fine silky sort, not overabundant, and rebellious to the brush. Her full red lips manifested a wealth of temperament. Her figure was slender and girlish, with a gait that revealed a proficient dancer. In addition to being