lives, need travel far from home to meet fellow Americans who sing
the song of slush about forgiving and forgetting.

Perhaps the man I heard talking in front of the bulletin board was one of
the "army of spies," as I like to infer from his absence of "come-back."
But perhaps he was merely an innocent American who at school had studied,
for instance, Eggleston's history; thoughtless--but by no means
harmless; for his school-taught "slant" against England, in the days we
were living through then, amounted to a "slant" for Germany. He would be
sorry if Germany beat France, but not if she beat England--when France
and England were joined in keeping the wolf not only from their door but
from ours! It matters not in the least that they were fighting our
battle, not because they wanted to, but because they couldn't help it:
they were fighting it just the same. That they were compelled doesn't
matter, any more than it matters that in going to war when Belgium was
invaded, England's duty and England's self-interest happened to coincide.
Our duty and our interest also coincided when we entered the war and
joined England and France. Have we seemed to think that this diminished
our glory? Have they seemed to think that it absolved them from
gratitude?

Such talk as that man's in front of the bulletin board helped Germany
then, whether he meant to or not, just as much as if a spy had said it--
just as much as similar talk against England to-day, whether by spies or
unheeding Americans, helps the Germany of to-morrow. The Germany of
yesterday had her spies all over France and Italy, busily suggesting to
rustic uninformed peasants that we had gone to France for conquest of
France, and intended to keep some of her land. What is she telling them
now? I don't know. Something to her advantage and their disadvantage, you
may be sure, just as she is busy suggesting to us things to her advantage