The big financiers and the men generally who were susceptible to touch on the money nerve, and who cared nothing for National honor if it conflicted even temporarily with business prosperity, were against the war. The more fatuous type of philanthropist agreed with them. The newspapers controlled by, or run in the interests of, these two classes deprecated war, and did everything in their power to prevent any preparation for war. As a whole the people in Congress were at that time (and are now) a shortsighted set as regards international matters. There were a few men, Senators Cushman K. Davis,[*] for instance, and John Morgan, who did look ahead; and Senator H. C. Lodge, who throughout his quarter of a century of service in the Senate and House has ever stood foremost among those who uphold with farsighted fearlessness and strict justice to others our national honor and interest; but most of the Congressmen were content to follow the worst of all possible courses, that is, to pass resolutions which made war more likely, and yet to decline to take measures which would enable us to meet the war if it did come.
[*] In a letter written
me just before I became Assistant
Secretary, Senator Davis
unburdened his mind about one of
the foolish “peace”
proposals of that period; his letter
running in part:
“I left the Senate Chamber about three
o’clock this afternoon
when there was going on a deal of
mowing and chattering
over the treaty by which the United
States is to be bound
to arbitrate its sovereign
functions—for
policies are matters of sovereignty. . . .
The
aberrations of the social
movement are neither progress nor
retrogression.
They represent merely a local and temporary
sagging of the line
of the great orbit. Tennyson knew this
when he wrote that fine
and noble ‘Maud.’ I often read it,
for to do so does me
good.” After quoting one of Poe’s
stories the letter continues:
“The world will come out all
right. Let him
who believes in the decline of the military
spirit observe the boys
of a common school during the recess
or the noon hour.
Of course when American patriotism speaks
out from its rank and
file and demands action or expression,
and when, thereupon,
the ‘business man,’ so called, places
his hand on his stack
of reds as if he feared a policeman
were about to disturb
the game, and protests until American
patriotism ceases to
continue to speak as it had started to
do—why, you
and I get mad, and I swear. I hope you will be
with us here after March
4. We can then pass judgment
together on the things
we don’t like, and together indulge
in hopes that I believe
are prophetic.”