le had to raise a hundred dollars. After
struggling for years they could only raise seventy-five. Then a man came
along and furnished the remaining necessary twenty-five dollars. That is
a good way to put it. What good would our twenty-five dollars have been,
and where should we have been, if the other fellows hadn't raised the
seventy-five dollars first?"

Chapter XIX: Lion and Cub

My task is done. I have discussed with as much brevity as I could the
three foundations of our ancient grudge against England: our school
textbooks, our various controversies from the Revolution to the Alaskan
boundary dispute, and certain differences in customs and manners. Some
of our historians to whom I refer are themselves affected by the ancient
grudge. You will see this if you read them; you will find the facts,
which they give faithfully, and you will also find that they often (and
I think unconsciously) color such facts as are to England's discredit
and leave pale such as are to her credit, just as we remember the
Alabama, and forget the Lancashire cotton-spinners. You cannot fail to
find, unless your anti-English complex tilts your judgment incurably,
that England has been to us, on the whole, very much more friendly
than unfriendly--if not at the beginning, certainly at the end of each
controversy. What an anti-English complex can do in the face of 1914, is
hard to imagine: Canada, Australia, New Zealand, India, the Boers, all
Great Britain's colonies, coming across the world to pour their gold and
their blood out for her! She did not ask them; she could not force them;
of their own free will they did it. In the whole story of mankind such a
splendid tribute of confidence and loyalty has never before been paid to
any nation.

In this many-peopled world England is our nearest relation. From
Bonaparte to the Kaiser, never has she allowed any outsider to harm
us. We are her cub. She has often clawed us, and we have clawed her in
return. This will probably go on. Once earlier in these pages, I asked
the reader not to misinterpret me, and now at the end I make the same
request. I have not sought to persuade him that Great Britain is a
charitable institution. What nation is, or could be, given the nature of
man? Her good treatment of us has been to her own interest. She is wise,
farseeing, less of an opportunist in her statesmanship than any other
nation. She has seen clearly and ever more clearly that our good will
was to her