“That, being a politician and maybe a candidate, he is keenly alive to votes goes without saying. On the surface this League of Nations having the word ‘peace’ in big letters emblazoned both upon its forehead and the seat of its trousers—or, should I say, woven into the hem of its petticoat?—seems an appeal for votes. I do not believe it will bear discussion. In a way, it tickles the ear without convincing the sense. There is nothing sentimental about the actualities of Government, much as public men seek to profit by arousing the passions of the people. Government is a hard and fast and dry reality. At best statesmanship can only half do the things it would. Its aims are most assured when tending a little landward; its footing safest on its native heath. We have plenty to do on our own continent without seeking to right things on other continents. Too many of us—the President among the rest, I fear—miscalculate the distance between contingency and desire. “‘We figure to ourselves The thing we like: and then we build it up: As chance will have it on the rock or sand— When thought grows tired of wandering o’er the world, And homebound Fancy runs her bark ashore.’” I am sorry to see the New York World fly off at a tangent about this latest of the Wilsonian hobbies. Frank Irving Cobb, the editor of the World, is, as I have often said, the strongest writer on the New York press since Horace Greeley. But he can hardly be called a sentimentalist, as Greeley was, and there is nothing but sentiment—gush and gammon—in the proposed League of Nations. It may be all right for England. There are certainly no flies on it for France. But we don’t need it. Its effects can only be to tie our hands, not keep the dogs away, and even at the worst, in stress of weather, we are strong enough to keep the dogs away ourselves. We should say to Europe: “Shinny on your own side of the water and we will shinny on our side.” It may be that Napoleon’s opinion will come true that ultimately Europe will be “all Cossack or all republican.” Part of it has come true already. Meanwhile it looks as though the United States, having exhausted the reasonable possibilities of democracy, is beginning to turn crank. Look at woman suffrage by Federal edict; look at prohibition by act of Congress and constitutional amendment; tobacco next to walk on the plank; and then!—Lord, how glad I feel that I am nearly a hundred years old and shall not live to see it! Chapter the Thirty-First The Age of Miracles—A Story of Franklin Pierce—Simon Suggs Billy Sunday—Jefferson Davis and Aaron Burr—Certain Constitutional Shortcomings I