hen next she springs, she will make no
blunders.

Chapter V: The Ancient Grudge

It was in Broad Street, Philadelphia, before we went to war, that I
overheard the foolish--or propagandist--slur upon England in front of
the bulletin board. After we were fighting by England's side for our
existence, you might have supposed such talk would cease. It did not.
And after the Armistice, it continued. On the day we celebrated as
"British Day," a man went through the crowd in Wanamaker's shop,
asking, What had England done in the War, anyhow? Was he a German, or
an Irishman, or an American in pay of Berlin? I do not know. But this I
know: perfectly good Americans still talk like that. Cowboys in camp do
it. Men and women in Eastern cities, persons with at least the external
trappings of educated intelligence, play into the hands of the Germany
of to-morrow, do their unconscious little bit of harm to the future of
freedom and civilization, by repeating that England "has always been our
enemy." Then they mention the Revolution, the War of 1812, and England's
attitude during our Civil War, just as they invariably mentioned these
things in 1917 and 1918, when England was our ally in a struggle (or
life, and as they will be mentioning them in 1940, I presume, if they
are still alive at that time).

Now, the Civil War ended fifty-five years ago, the War of 1812 one
hundred and five, and the Revolution one hundred and thirty-seven.
Suppose, while the Kaiser was butchering Belgium because she barred his
way to that dinner he was going to eat in Paris in October, 1914, that
France had said, "England is my hereditary enemy. Henry the Fifth and
the Duke of Wellington and sundry Plantagenets fought me"; and suppose
England had said, "I don't care much for France. Joan of Arc and
Napoleon and sundry other French fought me"--suppose they had sat
nursing their ancient grudges like that? Well, the Kaiser would have
dined in Paris according to his plan. And next, according to his plan,
with the Channel ports taken he would have dined in London. And
finally, according to his plan, and with the help of his "army of spies"
overseas, he would have dined in New York and the White House. For
German madness could not have defeated Germany's plan of World dominion,
if various nations had not got together and assisted. Other Americans
there are, who do not resort to the Revolution for their grudge, but
are in a commercial rage over this or that: