er.
This suspiciousness and lack of confidence anciently existing between
kings, and permeating the framework of every European nation, has, in a
lessening and decreasing degree, come down to the present day. It exists
now--unconsciously perhaps--but exists nevertheless, and must be taken
into consideration whenever any European nation makes a proposition to
other European nations for the settlement of any great international
question. This condition was well paraphrased by a great European
statesman in comparing European conditions with those of America, when
he referred to it as American boldness and European suspiciousness.
In the new world where our government's leadership and controlling
influence are recognized and acknowledged by all the world, these
conditions do not obtain. Here the divine right of kings has never been
recognized. We have not only disclaimed the right of conquest ourselves,
but we have refused to recognize it in others. We have not only refused
to recognize this right in the strong nation, but we have protected the
weak nation against it. Moreover we have shown to the world our
unselfish devotion to that principle to the extent of sacrificing life
and treasure in the defense of the weak against the strong--the
protection of the down-trodden and oppressed against oppression. Our
entire national life has been emblematic of an unselfish respect for the
rights of other nations, and is not tainted with that suspiciousness
which has come down to others from ancient times. Our position among the
nations of the world was well illustrated by what happened in the war
between Russia and Japan.
When these two great nations had gotten each other by the throat and
were struggling in mortal combat, the entire world was aroused to
admiration by the action of America's great president. Neither one of
the warring nations had expressed any desire for peace. Neither one had
shown any disposition to cease the conflict. Neither one had asked for
any intercession, and yet in the midst of the bloody conflict, when
America's voice was heard, they both halted, they both ceased, and they
both obeyed.
It was because they knew--all the world knew--that in the voice which
called them from the battlefield to reason's court there was no taint of
selfishness; that in that call there was no suspicion of an ulterior or
dishonorable motive, but that in the heart of the great statesman, whose
voice they heeded, there was o
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