peace itself was vulgar by contrast with the atmosphere of heroic
sacrifice in which I had lived for over a year. I asked myself if my
country could ever rise to the state of exaltation of France and
England. Though first thought, judging by superficial appearances alone,
might have said "No," I knew that we could if there ever came a call to
defend our soil--a call that could be brought home to the valleys of the
Hudson and the Mississippi as a call was brought home to the valleys of
the Somme, the Meuse and the Marne.

Many Americans had returned from Europe with reports of humiliation
endured as a result of their country's attitude. Shopkeepers had made
insulting remarks, they said, and in some instances had refused to sell
goods. They had been conscious of hostility under the politeness of
their French and English friends. A superficial confirmation of their
contention might be taken from the poster I noticed on my way from
Paddington Station to my hotel upon my arrival in England. It advertised
an article in a cheap weekly under the title of "Uncle Sham."

I took this just as seriously as I took a cartoon in a New York evening
paper of pro-German tendencies on the day that I had sailed from New
York, which showed John Bull standing idly by and urging France on to
sacrifices in the defense of Verdun. It was as easy for an American to
be indignant at one as for an Englishman at the other, but a little
unworthy of the intelligence of either. I was too convinced that Uncle
Sam, who does not always follow my advice, is sound at heart and a
respectable member of the family of nations to be in the least disturbed
in my sense of international good will. If I had been irritated I should
have contributed to the petty backbiting by the mischievous uninformed
which makes bad blood between peoples.