Though the events recorded in these letters are known to all the world, they may, perhaps, take on another significance seen through the eyes of one who has loved Mexico for her beauty and wept for the disasters that have overtaken her. The time has not yet come for a full history of the events leading to the breaking off of diplomatic relations, but after much pondering I have decided to publish these letters. They were written to my mother, day by day, after a habit of long years, to console both her and me for separation, and without any thought of publication. In spite of necessary omissions they may throw some light on the difficulties of the Mexican situation, which we have made our own, and which every American wishes to see solved in a way that will testify to the persistence of those qualities that made us great. Victoriano Huerta, the central figure of these letters, is dead, and many with him; but the tragedy of the nation still goes on. So above all thought of party or personal expediency, and because of vital issues yet to be decided, I offer this simple chronicle. The Mexican book is still open, the pages just turned are crumpled and ensanguined. New and momentous chapters for us and for Mexico are being written and I should be forever regretful had courage failed me to write my little share. It is two years ago to-day that diplomatic relations were broken off between the two republics. It is more than two years since the Constitutionalists under Villa and Carranza have had our full moral and material support. The results have been a punitive expedition sent into Mexico to capture Villa, and very uncertain and unsatisfactory relations with the hostile de facto government under Carranza. As for beautiful Mexico—her industries are dead, her lands laid waste, her sons and daughters are in exile, or starving in the “treasure-house of the world.” What I here give forth—and the giving is not easy—I offer only with a trembling hope of service.