TH

HE Outlook considers itself fortunate in being able to present to its readers the reminiscences of Oscar Straus, which begin in this issue. It congratulates itself, not because Mr. Straus is distinguished as a statesman and Government official, although he has this distinction; not because the autobiography is full of entertaining anecdotes of Presidents with whom Mr. Straus has been intimately associated, although the autobiography has this delightful quality; not because Mr. Straus's story of his life throws some light on solutions of perplexing political and social questions confronting the country, although the autobiography is very illuminating in this respect; but because this Jewish Ambassador from a Christian Democracy to a Mohammedan Absolutism is an outstanding manifestation that the great human process going on in this continental Republic of ours is the formation, not only of a new kind of national life, but of a new kind of racial life.

Mr. Straus was born in Germany, and came to this country when he was about four years old. But he is as completely an American in culture, in temperament, and in point of view as if his ancestors were Puritans

The story is one of service at home and abroad, of personal relations with four American Presidents, with diplomats, labor leaders, foreign rulers, leaders of finance and industry, and some plain unticketed citizens who were the salt of the earth and certainly not the least of those whom it was a privilege and a pleasure to know.

In these reminiscences few things will afford me greater pleasure than the references to my family-to my father Lazarus, my mother Sarah, my brothers Nathan and Isidor, the last my late lamented guide, philosopher, and friend, who was lost with his wife on the illfated Titanic. They were noble in death as in life.

who came over in the Mayflower to Massachusetts, or followers of King Charles who came over to Virginia to escape the consequences of that misguided monarch's folly.

As the title of his narrative indicates, he has been a Government officer under four Presidents. As a lawyer he is a recognized expert in international relations. Although he is proud of being a Jew, he is a champion of religious liberty, and it is significant that one of his first books was a life of Roger Williams, a Baptist and a pioneer of religious liberty in colonial times.

What is going to become of this great melting-pot that we call the United States of America is perplexing to contemplate in the present industrial crisis, with the contents of the pot boiling like a maelstrom at white heat. It sometimes seems as if the only result could be a cracking of the pot and the tumbling out of all its contents to destruction. If this catastrophe is to be avoided, and if the mess is to be cooked into a homogeneous and well-done product, it can only be by the kind of Americanization in politics, in religion, and in education for which Mr. Straus stands.-THE EDITORS.

The Palatinate of Bavaria was the home of many generations of my maternal and paternal ancestors. By industry and thrift they had become landowners and dealers in grain. Commerce was their livelihood, but learning and culture their life. Though none of them had attended universities, they were all deeply and widely informed in Hebrew and German literature.

his famous decree summoning the Assembly of Notables of the Jewish Nation to meet in Paris the following July to formulate their grievances and confer with Napoleon's commissioners relative to improving their status. It was called the Sanhedrin, after the famous parliamentary bodies of ancient Israel.

So one hundred and eleven delegates assembled from all parts of the great Napoleonic Empire, speaking French, German, and Italian, and formed the Sanhedrin. Among the deputies was Michael Berr, afterwards the first French Jew to practice at the bar; Abraham Furtado, son of Marrano or CryptoJewish parents from Portugal, a member of the family from which the wife of the first Benjamin d'Israeli was descended, and one of the ancestors of Sir John Simon; Avigdor of Nice, Israel Ottolenghi, an ancestor of the late War Minister of Italy; Saul Cremieux, Olry, Hayem Worms.

Many of the delegates were themselves well known; others achieved a posthumous glamour in the deeds of descendants who have since won distinction in French history and in the annals of Jewry. They assembled with a full consciousness of their responsibility. The purpose was to win for French Jews the removal of occupational restrictions and civic discrimination. It was a monumental task.

My great-grandfather evidently played an important part in the diplomacy which this unprecedented council involved, for he represented the Department of Mont Tennérre and was a mem ber of the sub-committee of fifteen delegated to meet the commissioners appointed by Napoleon; he was a member of another committee to which the

Assembly intrusted the delicate task of preparing the groundwork of discussion with the commissioners; and subsequently he was appointed to the Committee of Nine which the following year presented to the Great Sanhedrin the conclusions which had been formulated and agreed upon by the Assembly and helped to secure their adoption.

The Sanhedrin and the first Napoleon had become a memory, and Europe was experiencing a new cycle of oppression and revolution, when my father reached maturity.

The Revolution of 1848 was a heroic effort of the liberal forces of Europe to achieve constitutional government. Its failure in Germany caused a general exodus of participants to other countries. A host came to the United States, including such men as Sigel, Schurz, Stahl, and many others who later gained eminence as Generals in the Civil War. Americans in spirit, having made their sacrifices basically for American principles, they constituted a valuable acquisition to American citizenship.

Those who remained, who were prevented by circumstances from emigrating, were subjected to all those petty annoyances and discriminations which a reactionary government never fails to lay upon people who have revolted and revolted in vain. My father was only locally prominent in the revolutionary movement, and, though not actively prosecuted, was made to feel that emigration was the only means of relief.

Paramount also were the economic circumstances in which he found himself after the Revolution. Before the event a landowner and grain dealer on a large scale, he was now reduced financially, even in debt. Assuredly, a place where

reactionary and triumphant officialdom delighted in annoying one was not the scene for a retrieval of fortune. He wanted a new field for his enterprise. In 1852 he left for America.

GETTING A NEW START IN DIXIE

Like the prudent man he was, he went alone, to establish himself first, if only in a small way, rather than allow his family to exchange the comparative security of their familiar surroundings for the doubtful insecurity of an unknown land.

"Go South," was the recommendation of former acquaintances whom he met after landing in Philadelphia. Acting on this suggestion, he went on to Oglethorpe, Georgia, where he met some more acquaintances from the old country. Through them he made a connection with two brothers Kaufman, who plied the peddler's trade. They owned a peddler's wagon, with which they dispensed through the several counties of the State an assortment of dry-goods and what were known as Yankee notions. For my father this was indeed a pioneer business in a pioneer country, yet it was not like the peddling of today. In the fifties the population of the whole State of Georgia was only about 900,000. Because of the existence of slavery there were on the large plantations often more colored people than there were whites living in the near-by villages. The itinerant merchant, therefore, filled a real want, and his vocation was looked upon as quite dignified. Indeed, he was treated by the owners of the plantations with a spirit of equality that it is hard to appreciate to-day. Then, too, the existence of slavery drew

Another ideally democratic feature about these sojourns was that spirit of Southern hospitality which, even in the relationship between the wealthiest and most aristocratic family and the humble peddler, permitted no pay for board and lodging, and only a small charge for food for the horses. The peddler, in turn, usually made a gift to either the lady or her daughter. Often he provided himself with articles for this purpose, but usually on one visit he would find out what might be welcome and on the next visit bring it. The bonds of friendship thus made are, I venture to say, hardly understandable in our day.

In the course of these wanderings my father came to Talbotton, a town of some eight or nine hundred inhabitants, the county seat of Talbot County, and about forty miles east of the Alabama boundary. Talbotton immediately impressed him so favorably that he selected it as the next home for his family. It had an air of refinement that pleased him; here were gardens with nicely cultivated flowers and shrubbery, and houses that were neat, well kept, and properly painted. Upon inquiry, he found further that there were splendid schools for both boys and girls.

There was another factor which doubtless caused father to be favorably impressed with Talbotton; it was court week when he arrived, at which time a town has a more or less festive appearance and is at its best so far as activity is concerned. Then there was a third factor that influenced him to settle there. Before doing business in any county peddlers were required to go to the county seat to buy a license. At Talbotton this license was very high, and my father doubted that his business in Talbot County would warrant the expense. The idea occurred to him to utilize the presence of the many strangers in town to test the possibilities of the place by unpacking and displaying his goods in a store. An interview with Captain Curley, the only tailor in the town, developed the fact that the store he occupied was too large for his needs and he would be willing to share it with my father. So this arrangement was promptly made, and at a cost less than the expense of the county license for itinerant merchandising.

1922

The experiment proved most satisfactory. In a few weeks the stock was so depleted that my father proposed to his partner that they rent a store and settle in Talbotton. This they did. My father then prepared to go to Philadelphia to get a stock of goods. His partner counseled against this. There was a merchant in Oglethorpe who up to this point had supplied them with all their merchandise; they would need to refer to him for credit, and they were still indebted to him for the stock in hand; also he would probably not approve of their settling down in a store instead of peddling. The new store offered large display space in comparison with the wagon, and the partner doubted my father's ability to get enough credit in Philadelphia to make a proper display. Still another obstacle: The line of merchandise that was to constitute most of their stock was what was then known as dry-goods and domestics. This business was entirely in the hands of the Yankees, and the most difficult one in which to gain a foothold, especially for a German immigrant without capital.

Having opened the store, my father toiled long hours to make it prosper. But it was two years before he could send for the family.

DEACONS DUELED WITH KNIVES

Three years previous to this my mother had suffered a paralytic stroke. The long, trying trip to America with four small children called for courage and resource to an unusual degree. The oldest child, Isidor, was nine years old, my sister Hermine seven and a half, Nathan six, and myself three and a half

years.

we were com

We arrived at New York September 12, 1854. My father met us at the dock. Yellow fever was raging in Savannah, the port through which we had to pass to reach Talbotton, so pelled to wait in Philadelphia until it was considered safe to proceed. Talbotton was on court days filled with visitors and wore a holiday air. Sometimes the liquor flowed a little too freely among the visitors, and knife and pistol fights followed. In one case two deacons of the same church altercated until one slashed the other to death with his knife.

South that kind of quarreling meant a serious fight.

I think because of these facts the Southern boys were much more guarded and polite to each other in speech than was customary among Northern boys. Perhaps much of the so-called Southern politeness had its roots in the use in boyhood of milder terms in case of disagreement.

CIRCUIT RIDERS CHARMED BY
BIBLICAL ERUDITION

After considerable delay the murderer
was tried, but because of his high stand-
ing in the community he was acquitted, moderately prosperous community. Our

On the whole, though, the town itself was for those times an enlightened and

doubtless on the plea of self-defense, and he got off scot free.

This all left a deep impression on my young mind and made me a prohibitionist long before I knew the meaning of the word. In the North when boys got to fighting they used their fists; in the South they used, besides their fists, sticks and stones, and consequently it If in the North one boy cursed another was a more serious and dangerous affair.

or called him a liar it would not necessarily lead to a fist fight; in fact, it usually stopped at recrimination.

In the

family was received with kindness. We quickly became accustomed to our new environment. My mother and father soon enjoyed local fame for different excellences-mother for the trimness and skillful cultivation of her flower and regetable patch, father for his Biblical rudition. While housewives admired the horticultural skill of my mother, circuit-riding ministers went into long theological discussions with my father. Ours was a hospitable home, though modest, and never a circuit rider came to Talbotton but he had dinner at our

house, after which the discussions commenced in earnest. If a text was in question, my father always had his Hebrew copy of the Old Testament at hand and was ready to translate passages literally for their information.

I was thus fairly brought up on theological discussion. From my earliest days, it seems, I have been so situated as to be made aware of denominational controversy. At the table in my parents' home I saw and listened to representatives of every Christian creed. In college I figured, but as an olive-branched neutral, in the feud between "Evidences of Christianity" and the non-Episcopalians. And later years saw me in Turkey as the American diplomatic envoy, defending the representatives of Christian churches from the hostility of the Turk.

My brother Isidor and my sister were immediately sent to school, and my second brother and I were likewise sent as soon as we arrived at school age. We were the only Jewish family in the town. This aroused the curiosity of those who had never met persons of our race or religion before. I remember hearing a man express the doubt that we were

Jews: He stated with some assurance that all Jews had black hair and dark complexions, while my father was blond and blue-eyed.

My father sent Nathan and myself to a Sunday school at this time. Here we heard the Bible read and were taught principally from the Old Testament. Our teacher was a gunsmith who had more piety than knowledge. What he lacked in erudition he made up in good intentions. But long talks with my father formed the backbone of my religious instruction.

FIRST LESSONS IN ORATORY

In 1863 our family moved to Columbus, Georgia. A great, a tremendous city, I thought-blocks of brick houses, a broad Main Street, 12,000 inhabitants. The public school had not yet been established in Georgia. Off I was sent to schoolmaster Flynn's private institution of learning, where I was taught the three R's, Latin, and elocution-a great deal of the last. For, South and North, it was the great oratorical period. Like the rest, I practiced before the mirror and under the trees. Though my first piece before the school assembly was an avowal of undying courage, a recital of John Adams's "Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I am for the Constitution," I could not resist stage fright. I sank and swam-lived and died-survived and perished-with shaky knees.

Flynn was no rod-sparer and childspoiler, so I was not sorry, a year later, when his school was discontinued, to study under Dr. Dewey, who was less severe and had wider sympathy and culture. Under him I began Virgil and afterwards Horace.

There were no public libraries there, and few individuals excepting professional men had many books. The standard assortment consisted of the Bible, Josephus, Burns. A few had Shakespeare's works.

Aside from my school readings I was not bookish. Boys of my age led an outdoor life there. Barefoot nine months of the year, each of us the possessor of a shotgun, we hunted wild fowl and rabbits in season and out and indulged passionately in all the seasonable sports, top-spinning, marbles, ball-playing the last not in the form seen to-day, but a game called town ball.

COFFEE MADE OF SWEET POTATOES Our home was comfortable, wholesome, hospitable, and our wants so few and simple that I felt as happy and independent as any child of the richest. My mother was an excellent manager, and on very moderate resources the house shone with cheerfulness.

Life in the South, except among the owners of large plantations who entertained on a lavish scale, was simple. A simple life has its advantages in inducing self-help and in not making one unhappy because of the absence of those things which are regarded as luxuries.

I recall that in our part of the country coffee was unobtainable except when a few bags arrived on a ship that had run the blockade. Our mothers found a palatable substitute by cutting sweet potatoes in little cubes, drying them in the sun, then roasting and grinding them as one would the ordinary bean. This made a palatable drink colored like coffee and 'without the harmful stimulant of caffeine. When salt gave out and candles became scarce, ingenuity came into play. Every family had its smoke-house for curing meats, and the earth floors of the smoke-houses were found to be permeated considerably with salt from previous curings; so a method of extraction was devised. Candleseach family knew how to make them from a mixture of fat and beeswax melted and poured into tin molds. We children helped our mothers make those candles. They gave a soft light for our living-room and for our studies at night.

Children of my age lived largely upon corn-bread and molasses, which never ceased to be plentiful.

IMPRESSIONS OF SLAVERY

As a boy brought up in the South, I did not question the right or wrong of slavery. Its existence, like any other custom or institution, I regarded as a matter of course. The grown people of the South, whatever they thought about it, would not, except in rare instances, speak against it; and even then in the most private and guarded manner. To do otherwise would subject one to social ostracism.

We heard slavery defended in the pulpit and justified on Biblical grounds by leading ministers. With my father it was different. I frequently heard him

Where the future ambassador went to school in Talbot County. Georgia

discuss the subject with the ministers who came to our house, and he would point out to them that the Bible must be read with discrimination and in relation to the period to which the chapters refer; and it must not be forgotten that it is the history of a people covering more than a thousand years; and that even then there had been no such thing as perpetual bondage, as all slaves were declared free in the year of jubilee.

Looking backward and making comparisons between my observations as a boy in the South and later in the North, I find there was much more freedom of expression in the North than in the South. Few people in the South would venture to express themselves against the current of dominant opinion upon matters of sectional importance. The institution of slavery with all that it implied seemed to have had the effect of enslaving, or, to use a milder term, checking, freedom of expression on the part of the master class only in lesser degree than among the slaves themselves.

In our town, as in all Southern communities, the better families were kind, especially to their household slaves, whom they regarded as members of the family requiring guardianship and protection, as if they were children. And the slaves addressed their masters by their first names and their mistresses as "Miss." My mother, for instance, was "Miss Sara." I recall one of our servants pleading with my mother:

"Miss Sara, won't you buy me? I want to stay here. I love you and the white folks here, and I am afraid my master will hire me out or sell me to some one else."

At that time we hired our servants from their masters, whom we paid an agreed price. But, as the result of such constant pleadings, my father purchased household slaves one by one from their masters, although neither he nor my mother believed in slavery. If we children spoke to the slaves harshly or disregarded their feelings, we were promptly checked and reprimanded by our parents. My father also saw to it that our two men-servants learned a trade; the one learned tailoring and the other how to make shoes, though it was regarded as disloyal-at any rate, looked upon with suspicion-if a master permitted a slave boy or girl to be taught even reading and writing. When later we came North, we took with us the two youngest servants, one a boy about my age, and the other a girl a little older. They were too young to look out for themselves, and, so far as they knew, they had no relatives. We kept them with us until they grew up and could look out for themselves.