ake me a visit; but one
characteristic of this war-malady is the conviction of the victim
that he is somehow necessary to hold the world together. About
twice a week I get to the golf links and take the risk of the
world's falling apart and thus escape both illness and its
illusions.

"I cannot begin to express my deep anxiety and even uneasiness about the
relations of these two great governments and peoples," Page wrote about
this time. "The friendship of the United States and Great Britain is
all that now holds the world together. It is the greatest asset of
civilization left. All the cargoes of copper and oil in the world are
not worth as much to the world. Yet when a shipper's cargo is held up he
does not think of civilization and of the future of mankind and of free
government; he thinks only of his cargo and of the indignity that he
imagines has been done him; and what is the American Government for if
not to protect his rights? Of course he's right; but there must be
somebody somewhere who sees things in their right proportion. The man
with an injury rushes to the Department of State--quite properly. He is
in a mood to bring England to book. Now comes the critical stage in the
journey of his complaint. The State Department hurries it on to me--very
properly; every man's right must be guarded and defended--a right to get
his cargo to market, a right to get on a steamer at Queenstown, a right
to have his censored telegram returned, any kind of a right, if he have
a right. Then the Department, not wittingly, I know, but humanly, almost
inevitably, in the great rush of overwork, sends his 'demands' to me,
catching much of his tone and apparently insisting on the removal of his
grievance as a right, without knowing all the facts in the case. The
telegrams that come to me are full of 'protests' and 'demands'--protest
and demand this, protest and demand that. A man from Mars who should
read my book of telegrams received during the last two months would find
it difficult to explain how the two governments have kept at peace. It
is this serious treatment of trifling grievances which makes us feel
here that the exactions and dislocations and necessary disturbances of
this war are not understood at home.

"I assure you (and there are plenty of facts to prove it) that this
Government (both for unselfish and selfish reasons) puts a higher value
on our friendship than on any similar thing in the world