of her republican institutions, retarded her democratic growth, and her
history during the reign of Napoleon III is one of intrigue for
aggrandizement differing from Bismarck's only in the fact that it was
unsuccessful. Britain, because she was separated from the continent and
protected by her fleet, virtually withdrew from European affairs in the
latter part of the nineteenth century, and, as a result, made great
strides in democracy. The aggressions of Germany forced Britain in
self-defence into coalitions. Because of her power and wealth she became
the Entente leader, yet her liberal government was compelled to enter into
secret agreements with certain allied governments in order to satisfy
what they deemed to be their needs and just ambitions. She had honestly
sought, before the war, to come to terms with Germany, and had even
proposed gradual disarmament. But, despite the best intentions,
circumstances and environment, as well as the precarious situation of her
empire, prevented her from liberalizing her foreign relations to conform
with the growth of democracy within the United Kingdom and the Dominions.
Americans felt a profound pity for Belgium. But she was not, as Cuba had
been, our affair. The great majority of our citizens sympathized with
the Entente, regarded with amazement and disgust the sudden disclosure of
the true character of the German militaristic government. Yet for the
average American the war wore the complexion of other European conflicts,
was one involving a Balance of Power, mysterious and inexplicable. To
him the underlying issue was not democratic, but imperialistic; and this
was partly because he was unable to make a mental connection between a
European war and the brand of democracy he recognized. Preaching and
propaganda fail unless it can be brought home to a people that something
dear to their innermost nature is at stake, that the fate of the thing
they most desire, and are willing to make sacrifices for, hangs in the
balance.