To Our Mistaught Millions
rope, 'twon't be long before Europe gets too small for their Welt Politik or World Kultur—whatever they call it. They say it's better for us—like Belgium—to have Divine Right straddling our necks—then we can tote a heap bigger skillet-load of Efficiency. Of course, it cuts no ice with Divine Right, whether that suits us or not.
So, you see, the Prussian military idea must be destroyed by democracy, or it will destroy all democracy. Now, as we've got to fight, we'd better go in strong while we have allies, rather than wait and fight it out alone. Doesn't that sound to you like boss sense?
And, mind you, I say this in the most profound conviction, we are bound to win that war on the soil of Europe, or we may expect to lose it on the soil of America. There's no way of sidestepping. We've got to roll up our sleeves and make the world so free that a couple of emperors can't whisper to each other and touch the button for a war that has already slaughtered forty-five millions of hu-
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