White House, Washington
March 6, 1905
To the Senate:
I wish to call the attention of the Senate at this executive session to the treaty with Santo Domingo. I feel that I ought to state to the Senate that the condition of affairs in Santo Domingo is such that it is very much for the interest of that Republic that action on the treaty should be had at as early a moment as the Senate, after giving the matter full consideration, may find practicable.
I call attention to the following facts:
1. This treaty was entered into at the earnest request of Santo Domingo itself, and is designed to afford Santo Domingo relief and assistance. Its primary benefit will be to Santo Domingo. It offers the method most likely to secure peace and to prevent war in the island.
2. The benefit to the United States will consist chiefly in the tendency under the treaty to secure stability, order, and prosperity in Santo Domingo, and the removal of the apprehension lest foreign powers make aggressions on Santo Domingo in the course of collecting claims due their citizens; for it is greatly to our interest that all the islands in the Caribbean Sea should enjoy peace and prosperity and feel goodwill toward this country. The benefit to honest creditors will come from the fact that for the first time under this treaty a practicable method of attempting to settle the debts due them will be inaugurated.
3. Many of the debts alleged to be due from Santo Domingo to outside creditors unquestionably on their face represent far more money than ever was actually given Santo Domingo. The proposed treaty provides for a process by which impartial experts will determine what debts are valid and what are in whole or in part invalid, and will apportion accordingly the surplus revenue available for the payment of the debts. This treaty offers the only method for preventing the collection of fraudulent debts, whether owed to Americans or to citizens of other nations.
4. This treaty affords the most practicable means of obtaining payment for the just claims of American citizens.
5. If the treaty is ratified creditors belonging to other nations will have exactly as good treatment as creditors who are citizens of the United States, and at the same time Santo Domingo will be protected against unjust and exorbitant claims. If it is not ratified the chances are that American creditors will fare ill as compared with those of other nations; for foreign nations, being denied the opportunity to get what is rightfully due their citizens under the proposed arrangement, will be left to collect debts due their citizens as they see fit, provided, of course, there is not permanent occupancy of Dominican territory. As in such case the United States will have nothing to say as to what debts should or should not be collected, and as Santo Domingo will be left without aid, assistance, or protection, it is impossible to state that the sums collected from it will not be improper in amount. In such event, whatever is collected by means of forcible intervention will be applied to the creditors of foreign nations in preference to creditors who are citizens of the United States.
6. The correspondence between the Secretary of State and the Minister of Haiti, submitted to the Senate several days ago, shows that our position is explicitly and unreservedly that under no circumstances do we intend to acquire territory in or possession of either Haiti or Santo Domingo; it being stated in these letters that even if the two republics desired to become a part of the United States the United States would certainly refuse its assent.
7. Santo Domingo grievously needs the aid of a powerful and friendly nation. This aid we are able, and I trust that we are willing, to bestow. She has asked for this aid, and the expressions of friendship repeatedly sanctioned by the people and the Government of the United States warrant her in believing that it will not be withheld in the hour of her need.
Theodore Roosevelt.
ADDRESS AT THE MEETING OF THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, AT GRACE REFORMED CHURCH, WASHINGTON, D. C., MARCH 12, 1905
Mr. Justice, Dr. Schick, and you, my Fellow-Members of this Congregation, and our Guests who are with us to-day:
I am glad, on behalf of this church, to say amen to the appeal that has been made by Dr. Swift on behalf of the great society to the account of whose work you have been listening. Mr. Justice, you quoted the advice of a poet “to be doers rather than dreamers.” In the Book of all books there is a sentence to the same effect, “Be ye doers of the word and not hearers only.” Let us show ourselves to-day doers of the word, upholders in fact of what has been preached to us by Dr. Swift.
He has set forth the needs of the society, and he has set forth the great field over which it works. I wish to touch only on a small portion of that field, but, after all, the portion that most concerns us—the need here at home, here in this country, of furthering in every way the work of the society, the work of all kindred societies, both among the native-born and among the thousands who come to these shores from abroad. And there is a peculiar propriety in such an appeal being made to this church, for, as I have said here before, this church more than most others should ever keep before it as part of its duty, as one of the chief parts of its duty, that of caring in all ways, but especially in spiritual ways, for the people who come to us from abroad.
The United States Government does endeavor to do its duty by the immigrants who come to these shores; and I was glad, Dr. Swift, to listen to what you said as to the work that is being done on Ellis Island, for it is a just tribute to that work. But unless people have had some experience with the dangers and difficulties surrounding the newly arrived immigrant they can hardly realize how great they are. The immigrant comes here almost unprotected; he does not, as a rule, know our language; he is wholly unfamiliar with our institutions, our customs, our habits of life and ways of thought; and there are, I am sorry to say, great numbers of evil and wicked people who hope to make their livelihood by preying on him. He is exposed to innumerable temptations, innumerable petty oppressions, on almost every hand; and unless some one is on hand to help him he literally has no idea where to turn. No greater work can be done by a philanthropic or religious society than to stretch out the helping hand to the man and the woman who come here to this country to become citizens and the parents of citizens, and therefore to do their part in making up for weal or for woe the future of our land. If we do not take care of them, if we do not try to uplift them, then as sure as fate our own children will pay the penalty. If we do not see that the immigrant and the children of the immigrant are raised up, most assuredly the result will be that our own children and children’s children are pulled down. Either they will rise or we shall sink. The level of well-being in this country will be a level for all of us. We can not keep that level down for a part and not have it sink more or less for the whole. If we raise it for a part we shall raise it to a certain extent for the whole. Therefore, it means much, not merely to the immigrants, but to every good American, that there should be at Ellis Island the colporteurs of this society, and the representatives of other religious and philanthropic societies to try to care for the immigrant’s body, and above all to try to care for the immigrant’s soul.
It is, of course, unnecessary to say that the things of the body must be cared for; that the first duty of any man, especially of the man who has others dependent upon him, is to take care of them, and to take care of himself. Nobody can help others if he begins by being a burden upon others. Each man must be able to pull his own weight, to carry his own weight; and, therefore, each man must show the capacity to earn for himself and his family enough to secure a certain amount of material well-being. That must be the foundation. But on that foundation he must build as a superstructure the spiritual life.
One of the best things done by this society, and by kindred religious and benevolent societies, is supplying in our American life of to-day the proper ideals. It is a good thing to have had the extraordinary material prosperity which has followed so largely on the extraordinary scientific discoveries alluded to by Justice Brewer, if we use this material prosperity aright. It is not a good thing, it is a bad thing, if we treat it as the be-all and end-all of our life. If we make it the only ideal before this Nation, if we permit the people of this Republic to get before their minds the view that material well-being carried to an ever higher degree is the one and only thing to be striven for, we are laying up for ourselves not merely trouble but ruin. I, too, feel the faith and hope that have been expressed here to-day by the vice-president and the secretary of the society; but I so feel because I believe that we shall not permit mere material well-being to become the only ideal in this Nation, because I believe that more and more we shall accustom ourselves to looking at the great fortunes accumulated by certain men as being nothing in themselves, either to admire, to envy or to deplore, save as they are used well or ill. If the great fortune is used well, if the man who has accumulated it has the strength necessary to resist the temptations either to use it wrongfully, or what is nearly as bad, not to use it aright—for negation may be almost as harmful as positive wrongdoing—then he is entitled to the praise due to whoever employs great powers for the common good. If the man who accumulates that great fortune uses it ill or does not use it well, then so far from being an object of envy, still less an object of admiration, he should take his place among those whom we condemn and pity—for usually, if we have the root of the matter in us, we will pity those we condemn.
Wonderful changes have come in the last half century. It may well be as Mr. Justice Brewer has said, that we tremble on the verge of still greater changes in the future. The railway, the telegraph, the telephone, steam, electricity, all the marvelous mechanical inventions of these last five decades, have changed much in the superficial aspect of the world, and have, therefore, produced certain great changes in the world itself. But after all, in glorying over and wondering at this extraordinary development, I think that we sometimes forget that compared to the deeper things it is indeed only superficial in its effect. The qualities that count most in man and woman now are the qualities that counted most two thousand years ago; and as a Nation we shall achieve success or merit failure accordingly as we do or do not display those qualities. Among the members of this congregation is a man who, in his prime, served as the fleet engineer of Farragut when Farragut went into Mobile Bay. That was forty-one years ago. The ships and the guns with which Farragut did that mighty feat are now almost as obsolete as the galleys that fought for the mastery of the Ægean Sea when Athens waged war on Sparta. They could no more stand against a modern ship than could the ships that fought against the Invincible Armada in 1588. But if the need ever comes for this Nation to call on its sons to face a foreign foe, the call will or will not be made in vain just exactly according to whether we do or do not still retain the spirit which drove Farragut and the men under him onward to victory. The gun changes, the ship changes; but the qualities needed in the man behind the gun, in the man who handles the ship, are just the same as they ever were. So it is in our whole material civilization of to-day. The railroad, the telegraph, all these wonderful inventions, produce new problems, confer new benefits, and bring about new dangers. Cities are built up to enormous size, and, of course, with the upbuilding of the cities comes the growth of the terrible problems which confront all of us who have to do with city life. Outward circumstances change. New dangers spring up and old dangers vanish. But the spirit necessary to meet the new dangers, the spirit necessary to ensure the triumph that we must and shall win, is the same now that it has always been. This is the spirit which lies behind this society, and all kindred societies; and we owe to this society all the help we can afford to give; for it is itself giving to our people a service beyond price, a service of love, a service which no money could buy.
ADDRESS BEFORE THE NATIONAL CONGRESS OF MOTHERS, WASHINGTON, D. C., MARCH 13, 1905
Mrs. President:
In our modern industrial civilization there are many and grave dangers to counterbalance the splendors and the triumphs. It is not a good thing to see cities grow at disproportionate speed relatively to the country; for the small landowners, the men who own their little homes, and therefore to a very large extent the men who till farms, the men of the soil, have hitherto made the foundation of lasting national life in every State; and, if the foundation becomes either too weak or too narrow, the superstructure, no matter how attractive, is in imminent danger of falling.
But far more important than the question of the occupation of our citizens is the question of how their family life is conducted. No matter what that occupation may be, as long as there is a real home and as long as those who make up that home do their duty to one another, to their neighbors and to the state, it is of minor consequence whether the man’s trade is plied in the country or the city, whether it calls for the work of the hands or for the work of the head.
But the Nation is in a bad way if there is no real home, if the family is not of the right kind; if the man is not a good husband and father, if he is brutal or cowardly or selfish, if the woman has lost her sense of duty, if she is sunk in vapid self-indulgence or has let her nature be twisted so that she prefers a sterile pseudo-intellectuality to that great and beautiful development of character which comes only to those whose lives know the fulness of duty done, of effort made and self-sacrifice undergone.
In the last analysis the welfare of the state depends absolutely upon whether or not the average family, the average man and woman and their children, represent the kind of citizenship fit for the foundation of a great nation; and if we fail to appreciate this we fail to appreciate the root morality upon which all healthy civilization is based.
No piled-up wealth, no splendor of material growth, no brilliance of artistic development, will permanently avail any people unless its home life is healthy, unless the average man possesses honesty, courage, common-sense, and decency, unless he works hard and is willing at need to fight hard; and unless the average woman is a good wife, a good mother, able and willing to perform the first and greatest duty of womanhood, able and willing to bear, and to bring up as they should be brought up, healthy children, sound in body, mind, and character, and numerous enough so that the race shall increase and not decrease.
There are certain old truths which will be true as long as this world endures, and which no amount of progress can alter. One of these is the truth that the primary duty of the husband is to be the homemaker, the breadwinner for his wife and children, and that the primary duty of the woman is to be the helpmeet, the housewife, and mother. The woman should have ample educational advantages; but save in exceptional cases the man must be, and she need not be, and generally ought not to be, trained for a lifelong career as the family breadwinner; and, therefore, after a certain point the training of the two must normally be different because the duties of the two are normally different. This does not mean inequality of function, but it does mean that normally there must be dissimilarity of function. On the whole, I think the duty of the woman the more important, the more difficult, and the more honorable of the two; on the whole I respect the woman who does her duty even more than I respect the man who does his.
No ordinary work done by a man is either as hard or as responsible as the work of a woman who is bringing up a family of small children; for upon her time and strength demands are made not only every hour of the day but often every hour of the night. She may have to get up night after night to take care of a sick child, and yet must by day continue to do all her household duties as well; and if the family means are scant she must usually enjoy even her rare holidays taking her whole brood of children with her. The birth pangs make all men the debtors of all women. Above all, our sympathy and regard are due to the struggling wives among those whom Abraham Lincoln called the plain people, and whom he so loved and trusted; for the lives of these women are often led on the lonely heights of quiet, self-sacrificing heroism.
Just as the happiest and most honorable and most useful task that can be set any man is to earn enough for the support of his wife and family, for the bringing up and starting in life of his children, so the most important, the most honorable and desirable task which can be set any woman is to be a good and wise mother in a home marked by self-respect and mutual forbearance, by willingness to perform duty, and by refusal to sink into self-indulgence or avoid that which entails effort and self-sacrifice. Of course, there are exceptional men and exceptional women who can do and ought to do much more than this, who can lead and ought to lead great careers of outside usefulness in addition to—not as substitute for—their home work; but I am not speaking of exceptions; I am speaking of the primary duties, I am speaking of the average citizens, the average men and women who make up the Nation.
Inasmuch as I am speaking to an assemblage of mothers I shall have nothing whatever to say in praise of an easy life. Yours is the work which is never ended. No mother has an easy time, and most mothers have very hard times; and yet what true mother would barter her experience of joy and sorrow in exchange for a life of cold selfishness, which insists upon perpetual amusement and the avoidance of care, and which often finds its fit dwelling-place in some flat designed to furnish with the least possible expenditure of effort the maximum of comfort and of luxury, but in which there is literally no place for children?
The woman who is a good wife, a good mother, is entitled to our respect as is no one else; but she is entitled to it only because, and so long as, she is worthy of it. Effort and self-sacrifice are the law of worthy life for the man as for the woman; though neither the effort nor the self-sacrifice may be the same for the one as for the other. I do not in the least believe in the patient Griselda type of woman, in the woman who submits to gross and long-continued ill-treatment, any more than I believe in a man who tamely submits to wrongful aggression. No wrongdoing is so abhorrent as wrongdoing by a man toward the wife and the children who should arouse every tender feeling in his nature. Selfishness toward them, lack of tenderness toward them, lack of consideration for them, above all, brutality in any form toward them, should arouse the heartiest scorn and indignation in every upright soul.
I believe in the woman’s keeping her self-respect just as I believe in the man’s doing so. I believe in her rights just as much as I believe in the man’s, and indeed a little more; and I regard marriage as a partnership in which each partner is in honor bound to think of the rights of the other as well as of his or her own. But I think that the duties are even more important than the rights; and in the long run I think that the reward is ampler and greater for duty well done than for the insistence upon individual rights, necessary though this, too, must often be. Your duty is hard, your responsibility great; but greatest of all is your reward. I do not pity you in the least. On the contrary, I feel respect and admiration for you.
Into the woman’s keeping is committed the destiny of the generations to come after us. In bringing up your children you mothers must remember that while it is essential to be loving and tender it is no less essential to be wise and firm. Foolishness and affection must not be treated as interchangeable terms; and besides training your sons and daughters in the softer and milder virtues you must seek to give them those stern and hardy qualities which in after life they will surely need. Some children will go wrong in spite of the best training; and some will go right even when their surroundings are most unfortunate; nevertheless an immense amount depends upon the family training. If you mothers through weakness bring up your sons to be selfish and to think only of themselves, you will be responsible for much sadness among the women who are to be their wives in the future. If you let your daughters grow up idle, perhaps under the mistaken impression that as you yourselves have had to work hard they shall know only enjoyment, you are preparing them to be useless to others and burdens to themselves. Teach boys and girls alike that they are not to look forward to lives spent in avoiding difficulties but to lives spent in overcoming difficulties. Teach them that work, for themselves and also for others, is not a curse but a blessing; seek to make them happy, to make them enjoy life, but seek also to make them face life with the steadfast resolution to wrest success from labor and adversity, and to do their whole duty before God and to man. Surely she who can thus train her sons and her daughters is thrice fortunate among women.
There are many good people who are denied the supreme blessing of children, and for these we have the respect and sympathy always due to those who, from no fault of their own, are denied any of the other great blessings of life. But the man or woman who deliberately foregoes these blessings, whether from viciousness, coldness, shallow-heartedness, self-indulgence, or mere failure to appreciate aright the difference between the all-important and the unimportant—why, such a creature merits contempt as hearty as any visited upon the soldier who runs away in battle, or upon the man who refuses to work for the support of those dependent upon him, and who though able-bodied is yet content to eat in idleness the bread which others provide.
The existence of women of this type forms one of the most unpleasant and unwholesome features of modern life. If any one is so dim of vision as to fail to see what a thoroughly unlovely creature such a woman is I wish they would read Judge Robert Grant’s novel “Unleavened Bread,” ponder seriously the character of Selma, and think of the fate that would surely overcome any nation which developed its average and typical woman along such lines. Unfortunately it would be untrue to say that this type exists only in American novels. That it also exists in American life is made unpleasantly evident by the statistics as to the dwindling families in some localities. It is made evident in equally sinister fashion by the census statistics as to divorce, which are fairly appalling; for easy divorce is now, as it ever has been, a bane to any nation, a curse to society, a menace to the home, an incitement to married unhappiness and to immorality, an evil thing for men and a still more hideous evil for women. These unpleasant tendencies in our American life are made evident by articles such as those which I actually read not long ago in the “Independent,” where a clergyman was quoted, seemingly with approval, as expressing the general American attitude when he said that the ambition of any save a very rich man should be to rear two children only, so as to give his children an opportunity “to taste a few of the good things of life.” This man, whose profession and calling should have made him a moral teacher, writing in what is professedly a religious paper, actually set before others the ideal, not of training children to do their duty, not of sending them forth with stout hearts and ready minds to win triumphs for themselves and their country, not of allowing them the opportunity and giving them the privilege of making their own place in the world, but, forsooth, of keeping the number of children so limited that they might “taste a few good things!” The way to give a child a fair chance in life is not to bring it up in luxury, but to see that it has the kind of training that will give it strength of character. Even apart from the vital question of national life, and regarding only the individual interest of the children themselves, happiness in the true sense is a hundredfold more apt to come to any given member of a healthy family of healthy-minded children, well brought up, well educated, but taught that they must shift for themselves, must win their own way, and by their own exertions make their own positions of usefulness, than it is apt to come to those whose parents themselves have acted on and have trained their children to act on, the selfish and sordid theory that the whole end of life is “to taste a few good things.”
The intelligence of the remark is on a par with its morality, for the most rudimentary mental process would have shown the speaker that if the average family in which there are children contained but two children the Nation as a whole would decrease in population so rapidly that in two or three generations it would very deservedly be on the point of extinction, so that the people who had acted on this base and selfish doctrine would be giving place to others with braver and more robust ideals. Nor would such a result be in any way regrettable; for a race that practiced such doctrine—that is, a race that practiced race suicide—would thereby conclusively show that it was unfit to exist, and that it had better give place to people who had not forgotten the primary laws of their being.
To sum up, then, the whole matter is simple enough. If either a race or an individual prefers the pleasures of mere effortless ease, of self-indulgence, to the infinitely deeper, the infinitely higher pleasures that come to those who know the toil and the weariness, but also the joy, of hard duty well done, why, that race or that individual must inevitably in the end pay the penalty of leading a life both vapid and ignoble. No man and no woman really worthy of the name can care for the life spent solely or chiefly in the avoidance of risk and trouble and labor. Save in exceptional cases the prizes worth having in life must be paid for, and the life worth living must be a life of work for a worthy end, and ordinarily of work more for others than for one’s self.
The man is but a poor creature whose effort is not rather for the betterment of his wife and children than for himself; and as for the mother, her very name stands for loving unselfishness and self-abnegation, and, in any society fit to exist, is fraught with associations which render it holy.
The woman’s task is not easy—no task worth doing is easy—but in doing it, and when she has done it, there shall come to her the highest and holiest joy known to mankind; and having done it, she shall have the reward prophesied in Scripture; for her husband and her children, yes, and all people who realize that her work lies at the foundation of all national happiness and greatness, shall rise up and call her blessed.
ADDRESS AT THE DINNER OF THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDLY SONS OF ST. PATRICK, DELMONICO’S, NEW YORK CITY, MARCH 17, 1905
It is, of course, a matter of peculiar pleasure to me to come to my own city and to meet so many men with whom I have been associated for the last quarter of a century—for it was nearly that time ago, Judge, that you and I first met when we were both in the New York Legislature together—and to be greeted by you as you have greeted me to-night. I wish to express at the outset my special sense of obligation—and I know that the rest of you will not grudge my expressing it—my special sense of obligation to Colonel Duffy and the officers and men of the Sixty-ninth, who were my escort to-day. I shall write to Colonel Duffy later, to give him formal notice, and to ask him to give the regiment formal notice, of my appreciation, but I wish to express it thus publicly to-night.
And now, before I begin my speech proper, I wish to read a telegram which has been handed to me as a sop to certain of my well-known prejudices. It has been sent up to me by one of the members here to-night, who when we came into the dining-room was only a father, but who at this moment is a grandfather. This telegram runs as follows:
“Peter McDonnell, Friendly Sons’ Dinner, Delmonico’s. Patrick just arrived. Tired after parade. Sends his regards to the President. He is the first on record since the President attended the Friendly Sons’ dinner. He is a fine singer. No race suicide in this family. Weighs eight pounds, looks like the whole family. The mother is doing well. Robert McDonnell.”
And, gentlemen, I want you to join with me in drinking the health of Patrick, Peter, Robert, and above all, of the best of the whole outfit, Mrs. McDonnell, the mother.
Now we will pass from the present to the past. The Judge has spoken to you of the formation of the Society of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick in Philadelphia, in colonial days. It was natural that it should have started in Philadelphia and at the time of which the Judge spoke. For we must not forget, in dealing with our history as a Nation, that long before the outbreak of the Revolution there had begun on the soil of the colonies, which afterward became the United States, that mixture of races which has been and still is one of the most important features in our history as a people. At the time, early in the eighteenth century, when the immigrants from Ireland first began to come in numbers to this country, the race elements were still imperfectly fused, and for some time the then new Irish strain was clearly distinguishable from the others. And there was one peculiarity about these immigrants who came from Ireland to the colonies in the eighteenth century which has never been paralleled in the case of any other immigrants whatsoever. In all other cases since the very first settlements, the pushing westward of the frontier, the conquest of the Continent has been due primarily to the men of native birth. But the immigrants from Ireland in the eighteenth century, and those alone, pushed boldly through the settled districts and planted themselves as the advance guard of the conquering civilization on the borders of the Indian-haunted wilderness.
This was true in Northern Maine and New Hampshire, in Western Pennsylvania, Virginia, and the Carolinas alike. And, inasmuch as Philadelphia was the largest city which was in touch with that extreme Western frontier, it was most natural that the Society of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick should first be formed in that city. We had, I wish to say, in New York, frequently during colonial days, dinners of societies of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick, but apparently the society in New York did not take a permanent form; but we frequently had dinners on March 17 of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick here in New York City even in colonial days.
By the time the Revolution had broken out, the men of different race strains had begun to fuse together, and the Irish among those strains furnished their full share of leadership in the struggle. Among their number was Commodore John Barry, one of the two or three officers to whom our infant Navy owed most. I had the honor in the last session of Congress to recommend that a monument to Barry should be erected in Washington. I heartily believe in economy, but I think we can afford to let up enough to let that monument through.
On land, the men of this strain furnished generals like Montgomery, who fell so gloriously at Quebec, and like Sullivan, the conqueror of the Iroquois, who came of a New Hampshire family, which furnished governors to three New England States. In her old age, the mother, Mrs. Sullivan, used to say that she had known what it was to work hard in the fields carrying in her arms the Governor of Massachusetts, with the Governors of New Hampshire and Vermont tagging on at her skirts.
I have spoken of the generals. Now for the rank and file. The Continental troops of the hardest fighter among Washington’s generals, Mad Anthony Wayne, were recruited so largely from this stock that Lighthorse Harry Lee of Virginia, the father of the great general, Robert Lee, always referred to them as “The Line of Ireland.” Nor must we forget that of this same stock there was a boy during the days of the Revolution who afterward became the chief American general of his time, and, as President, one of the public men who left his impress most deeply upon our Nation, Andrew Jackson, the victor of New Orleans.
The Revolution was the first great crisis of our history. The Civil War was the second. And in this second great crisis the part played by the men of Irish birth or parentage was no less striking than it had been in the Revolution. Among the three or four great generals who led the Northern Army in the war, stood Phil Sheridan. Some of those whom I am now addressing served in that immortal brigade which on the fatal day of Fredericksburg left its dead closest to the stonewall which marked the limit that could not be overpassed even by the highest valor.
And, gentlemen, it was my good fortune when it befell me to serve as a regimental commander in a very small war—but all the war there was—to have under me more than one of the sons of those who served in Meagher’s brigade. Among them was one of my two best captains, both of whom were killed, Allen Capron, and this man Bucky O’Neill. Bucky O’Neill was killed at Santiago, showing the same absolute indifference to life, the same courage, the same gallant readiness to sacrifice everything on the altar of an ideal, that his father had shown when he died in Meagher’s brigade in the Civil War.
The people who have come to this country from Ireland have contributed to the stock of our common citizenship qualities which are essential to the welfare of every great nation. They are a masterful race of rugged character, a race the qualities of whose womanhood have become proverbial, while its men have the elemental, the indispensable virtues of working hard in time of peace and fighting hard in time of war.
And I want to say here, as I have said and shall say again elsewhere, as I shall say again and again, that we must never forget that no amount of material wealth, no amount of intellect, no artistic or scientific growth can avail anything to the nation which loses the elemental virtues. If the average man can not work and fight, the race is in a poor way; and it will not have, because it will not deserve, the respect of any one.
Let us avoid always, either as individuals or as a Nation, brawling, speaking discourteously or acting offensively toward others, but let us make it evident that we wish peace, not because we are weak, but because we think it right; and that while we do not intend to wrong any one, we are perfectly competent to hold our own if any one wrongs us. There has never been a time in this country when it has not been true of the average American of Irish birth or parentage, that he came up to this standard, able to work and able to fight at need.
But the men of Irish birth or of Irish descent have been far more than soldiers—I will not say more than, but much in addition to, soldiers. In every walk in life in this country men of this blood have stood and now stand pre-eminent, not only as soldiers but as statesmen, on the bench, at the bar, and in business. They are doing their full share toward the artistic and literary development of the country.
And right here let me make a special plea to you, to this society and kindred societies: We Americans take a just pride in the development of our great universities, and more and more we are seeking to provide for creative and original work in these universities. I hope that an earnest effort will be made to endow chairs in American universities for the study of Celtic literature and for research in Celtic antiquities. It is only of recent years that the extraordinary wealth and beauty of the old Celtic Sagas have been fully appreciated, and we of America, who have so large a Celtic strain in our blood, can not afford to be behindhand in the work of adding to modern scholarship by bringing within its ken the great Celtic literature of the past.
My fellow-countrymen, I have spoken to-night especially of what has been done for this Nation of ours by men of Irish blood. But, after all, in speaking to you, or, to any other body of my fellow-citizens, no matter from what Old World country they themselves or their forefathers may have come, the great thing is to remember that we are all of us Americans. Let us keep our pride in the stocks from which we have sprung, but let us show that pride, not by holding aloof from one another, least of all by preserving the Old World jealousies and bitternesses, but by joining in a spirit of generous rivalry to see which can do most for our great common country.
Americanism is not a matter of creed or birthplace or descent. That man is the best American who has in him the American spirit, the American soul. Such a man fears not the strong and harms not the weak. He scorns what is base or cruel or dishonest. He looks beyond the accidents of occupation or social condition and hails each of his fellow-citizens as his brother, asking nothing save that each shall treat the other on his worth as a man, and that they shall all join together to do what in them lies for the uplifting of this mighty and vigorous people. In our veins runs the blood of many an Old World nation. We are kin to each of these nations and yet identical with none.
Our policy should be one of cordial friendship for them all, and yet we should keep ever before our eyes the fact that we are ourselves a separate people with our own ideals and standards, and destined, whether for better or for worse, to work out a wholly new national type. The fate of the twentieth century will in no small degree—I ask you to think of this from the standpoint of the world—the fate of the twentieth century as it bears on the world will in no small degree depend upon the type of citizenship developed on this Continent. Surely such a thought must thrill us with the resolute purpose so to bear ourselves that the name American shall stand as the symbol of just, generous, and fearless treatment of all men and all nations. Let us be true to ourselves, for we can not then be false to any man.
ADDRESS AT THE DINNER OF THE SONS OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION, HOTEL ASTOR, NEW YORK CITY, MARCH 17, 1905
Ladies and Gentlemen:
I am glad to greet not merely the Sons but the Daughters of the American Revolution, and it is indeed a pleasure to be with you and say a few words, partly of greeting to you and partly in reference to what I feel should be the work, the special work, of a society like this, the Society of the Sons of the American Revolution. It ought to fulfil more than one function. In the first place, it should, of course, keep up our sense of historic continuity with the past. It is a good thing, pre-eminently a good thing, for this Nation never to lose sight of what has been done in the past by those who founded and those who preserved the Republic. It is eminently fit that there should be associations banded together for the special purpose of keeping fresh in the minds of all of us the great memories of the men of the past and of what these men did. But if we treat that merely as a relaxation, merely as a pleasant mental exercise, I think we come lamentably short of what we ought to do.
The way to pay effective homage to the men of the mighty past is to live decently and efficiently in the present. We have a right to expect that every society like this shall be a nucleus for patriotic endeavor in the affairs of the day. Now, in studying the past I wish that societies like this would pay heed not only to what is pleasant for us to read about, but also to what is unpleasant. I do not think that a diet of all praise is good for any one, and it is no better for us as a body politic than for any one of us individually. Admiral Coghlan will tell you that the first step necessary in bringing the Navy up to its present standard of marksmanship was having the Navy understand that its marksmanship was not what it ought to be. I think the facts will bear me out.
The thing to do is to remember what Emerson says, that in the long run an unpleasant truth is a very much safer companion than even the pleasantest falsehood. Our pride in what was done in the past should not permit us to be led away into blindness by failure to appreciate whatever was wrong in the past. Read what Washington said about the average militia regiment of the Revolutionary War, and you will not find he used complimentary language. It was because our people declined to accept Washington’s judgment on the militia, and persisted in trying the experiment of fighting the War of 1812 with militia, that the first two years of that war resulted not merely disastrously, but shamefully, and among other things resulted in the burning of the city of Washington. We did not begin to win on land until we had evolved through mighty hard knocks a small army under Brown and Scott on the northern frontier, which, when evolved, proved able to do what no Continental army at that time could do, that is, meet to advantage the best troops of Britain. We won at sea because we had a number of frigates and sloops which had been built more than fifteen years before and whose officers had been trained in the school of their profession at sea and in action. We won these victories because we had the fleet; and if the fleet had been bigger we would not have had to fight the war at all.
Now, I ask that societies like this teach the truth; teach the truth that helps, even if it hurts a little in the helping. Take our struggle in building up our Navy to its present strength. We were hampered in that struggle by the ignorant and unspeakably foolish belief that somehow or other America was so big and smart a Nation that we did not need a Navy, and could improvise one out of hand if the need ever arose.
Admiral Coghlan lived through the period which saw the United States at the close of the Civil War, with Farragut and his fellows as our admirals, loom up as one of the great naval Powers of the earth, which then saw us about the year 1882 reduced to a condition of effective sea-strength when it would have been flattery to call us a fifth-rate Power, and which then saw the building up of our Navy until at present, taking into account the ships built and authorized, and, above all, taking into account the way those ships are handled, singly and in squadrons—taking into the account the ships, the armor, the guns, and, above all, the men in the conning towers, in the engine rooms and behind the guns—we rank as one of the big naval Powers of the earth. We rank as such, we occupy our present position and we are a power potent for peace because we deliberately faced the fact that we did not have a Navy worth anything in 1882.
I take immense interest in the Navy, because the Navy is the arm upon which this country must most depend for holding its own and upholding its honor so far as our international relations are concerned. We had to educate our people slowly up to the need of a Navy. We began by building some cruisers. We then built two or three fast vessels called commerce destroyers. We had quite a time for several years in persuading excellent people of good intentions, but not entirely clear minds, that it was rather less immoral to destroy commerce than to take life in battleships. Then we had to go through the stage of meeting and by degrees overcoming the arguments of those other excellent people who said we must have fighting ships, but only for defence; that we must only have coast defence ships; that is, we must win the fight not by hitting, but by parrying. If we had carried out that theory, Admiral Coghlan and his fellow-captains under Dewey would have been cooped up in coast defence vessels in San Francisco, while the hostile ships rested unharmed in Manila. That is the theory of coast defence; and in that case the war would never have had any end. We won because by that time our people had at last awakened to the fact that in a navy you want the very best type of ship; and that of all foolish things, the most foolish is to hit soft. Do not hit at all if you can help it. Avoid trouble of every kind. Do not hit at all if you can help it, but never hit soft. When Dewey and the captains under him went into Manila Bay they went in in ships that had been built, not that year nor the year before. Some of them had been built as much as fifteen years before, twelve years, eight years; and the legislators who authorized the building of those ships, the men who built them, the captains who first took them out, the captains who trained the men aboard them, every man who did his part in bringing up the Navy to the standard of efficiency which it had reached in 1898 is justly entitled to his share of the credit in the victory won on that first day of May.
When you cheer for Dewey, when you think of Farragut, when you speak of the founders of the American Navy in the days of the Revolution, do not confine yourselves to cheers, do not confine yourselves to saying what a great man Washington was and how he was backed up by generals and statesmen of that day; but take example from what those men did, take warning from what their less wise fellows did, and prepare for victory in the only way in which victory can be prepared for, by preparing for it in advance.
I spoke to you of the difficulties to be met with in getting the Navy built up. Among these difficulties is the fact that there are some very good people who, whenever you say that you want a good Navy, say that “this is a lamentable illustration of the jingo spirit, and that there is no reason why this country should ever have a war.” I know one excellent gentleman in Congress who said he preferred arbitration to battleships. So do I. But suppose the other man does not. I want to have the battleships as a provocative for arbitration so far as the other man is concerned.
We have now got our Navy up to a good point. We have built and are building forty armored ships. For a year or two, or two or three years, to come, what we need to do is to provide for the personnel of those ships, and to secure the very highest standard of efficiency in handling them, singly and in squadrons; above all, for handling the great guns. So much for the Navy.
Now a word for the Army. I was very sorry that this year Congress did not provide the means for having field manœuvres such as those General Grant and General Bell took part in last year. Those manœuvres are very useful. It is impossible to take National Guard regiments and put them into such manœuvres without causing them great discomfort, and it may be better to keep such manœuvres as were carried on last year for the Regular Army. But it is a great mistake not to continue them for the Regular Army. We have a small Regular Army. It is not advisable or necessary that we should have a large one. It is advisable, it is necessary, that the Army we have should be efficient as a whole as well as efficient in its individual parts. I firmly believe that given an equal chance, the officers and enlisted men of the American Army offer material quite as good as any to be found in any army of the world. Because I believe that I think it not merely an iniquity but a crime not to give the officers and the enlisted men that equal chance. We have an Army now short of seventy thousand men. Deducting the men necessary for the manning of the coast defences, it would give us at the very outside figure a possible Army of fifty thousand men—that is, an Army about one-fourteenth the size of the forces that have been contending in the mighty death wrestle around Mukden. Surely we owe it to this Nation that we should have that Army of fifty thousand men able to manœuvre as an Army of fifty thousand men and able to render as good service as such as any army can render. We can never achieve that ideal unless we are willing as a Nation to spend the money so that the Army shall have the chance of being handled in time of peace in great masses by the men who will handle it in masses in time of war. If when war comes you set thirty thousand men, of whom no more than five or six hundred have ever served together, under officers who have never handled, any of them, more than five or six hundred men, you can not expect anything but disaster; unless perchance you go against a foe even more foolish than you are.
So I ask you of this society, the Sons of the American Revolution, to study the war of the Revolution, to study the War of 1812, to study the war with Mexico, and the Civil War, not only from the standpoint of the victories, but from the standpoint of the defeats, and to try to see to it that in our policy at the present time we carry out the old policies that won the victories, and avoid the old policies that brought about the defeats.
I speak in the interest of peace when I ask for an efficient Army and Navy. This is a high-spirited people. This is a people that will not abandon the Monroe Doctrine, will not stop building the Isthmian Canal, will not surrender its hold upon the islands of the sea. Very good; then take such steps as are necessary to make your hold on those possessions, your backing of this doctrine, effective, and not empty bluster.
So it is in civic affairs. Study not only what Washington and Washington’s supporters did, but study what was done by those who brought the Continental Congress to absolute impotence. Study what was done by those who nearly undid the good work of Washington. Study what has been done in the past by the men who have made errors no less than by the men who have won triumphs, and profit alike by the study of the triumphs and by the study of the errors.
Talking among ourselves, man to man, each of us will admit to the other that there are things in our life that he does not like; but when one of us gets on his feet to address the rest he often seems to feel as if somehow he ought never to speak save in indiscriminate praise of all. The same man who will take an unwarrantably pessimistic view of all our governmental matters in private will feel obliged to speak in unwarrantable praise of all these matters in public. We ought to avoid ignorant praise as much as ignorant blame. It is only by making a correct diagnosis that we can find out how to treat any given disease. A good physician in making a diagnosis is not either an optimist or a pessimist. He wants to find out the facts; for to take either too dark or too rosy a view may be fatal to the patient. Just so in our body politic. Try to find out what the facts really are, try to find out what the good qualities, what the defects; what the good side is in any portion of our Government, what the defect is in any portion of our Government. State the truth; do not hysterically exaggerate what is good; do not hysterically exaggerate what is evil. Find out the facts; and then with your whole heart set to work to preserve and make better the good and to cut out and do away with the evil.
ADDRESS TO THE GRADUATES OF THE UNITED STATES NAVAL MEDICAL SCHOOL, WASHINGTON, D. C., MARCH 25, 1905
Ladies and Gentlemen; and especially the Members of the Graduating Class:
I am glad to have the chance of saying a word of greeting to you this morning. You represent two professions, for you are members of the great medical body and you are also officers of the Navy of the United States, and therefore you have a double standard of honor up to which to live. I think that all of us laymen, men and women, have a peculiar appreciation of what a doctor means; for I do not suppose there is one of us who does not feel that the family doctor stands in a position of close intimacy with each of us, in a position of obligation to him under which one is happy to rest to an extent hardly possible with any one else; and those of us, I think most of us, who are fortunate enough to have a family doctor who is a beloved and intimate friend, realize that there can be few closer ties of intimacy and affection in the world. And while, of course, even the greatest and best doctors can not assume that very intimate relation with more than a certain number of people (though it is to be said that more than any other man, the doctor does commonly assume such a relation to many people)—while it is impossible this relation in its closest form shall obtain between a doctor and more than a certain number of people, still with every patient with whom the doctor is thrown at all intimately he has this peculiar relation to a greater or less extent. The effect that the doctor has upon the body of the patient is in very many cases no greater than the effect that he has upon the patient’s mind. Each one of you here has resting upon him not only a great responsibility for the care of the body of the officer or enlisted man who will be under his supervision, but a care—which ought not to be too consciously shown, but which should be unconsciously felt—for the man’s spirit. The morale of the entire ship’s company, of the entire body of men with which you are to be thrown, will be sensibly affected by the way in which each of you does his duty.
Just as the great doctor, the man who stands high in his profession in any city, counts as one of the most valuable assets in that city’s civic work, so in the Navy or the Army the effect of having thoroughly well-trained men with a high and sensitive standard of professional honor and professional duty is wellnigh incalculable upon the service itself. I want you now, as you graduate, to feel that on your shoulders rests a great weight of responsibility; that your position is one of high honor, and that it is impossible to hold a position of high honor and not hold it under penalty of incurring the severest reprobation if you fail to live up to its requirements.
I am not competent to speak save in the most general terms of your professional duties. I do want, however, to call your attention to one or two features connected with them. In the first place: In connection with the work you do for the service you have certain peculiar advantages in doing work that will be felt for the whole profession. For instance, it will fall to your lot to deal with certain types of tropical diseases. You will have to deal with them as no ordinary American doctor, no matter how great his experience, will have to deal with them, and you should fit yourselves by most careful study and preparation, so that you shall not only be able to grapple with the cases as they come up, but in grappling with them to make and record observations upon them that will be of permanent value to your fellows in civil life. You can there do what no civilian doctor can possibly do. There probably is not a branch of the profession into which, during your career, you will not have to go; no type of disease that you will not have to treat. But there are certain diseases you will have to treat that the ordinary man who stays at home, of course, does not; and it is of consequence to the entire medical profession that you should so fit yourself by study, by preparation, that you shall not only be able to deal with those cases, but to deal with them in a way that will be of advantage to your stay-at-home brethren.
There is one other point. Every effort should, of course, be made to provide you with ample means to do your work. Every effort ought to be made to persuade the National Legislature to take that view of the situation; to remember that in case of war it is out of the question to improvise a great medical service for the Army and the Navy. The need of the increase would be more keenly felt in the Army than in the Navy, because it is always the Army that undergoes the greatest expansion in time of war. But it is felt in both services. And when, as is perfectly certain to be the case if ever a war comes, and if we have made no greater preparation than at present, there is fever in the camps, there is sickness among the volunteer forces, it will be mere dishonest folly for the public men, and especially for the public press, to shriek against the people who happen to be in power at that time. Let them, if ever such occasion arises, solemnly think over and repent of the fact that they have not made their representatives provide adequately in advance for the medical system in its personnel and its material, for the organization, and for the physical instruments necessary to make that organization effective. Only adequate preparation in advance will obviate the trouble which otherwise is certain to come if we have a war. Let critics remember not to blame the people in power when such a breakdown comes, but to blame themselves, the people of the United States, because they have not had the forethought to take the steps in advance which would prevent such breakdown from occurring.
Means ought to be provided in advance. That is part of our duty. If we fail in it then it is our responsibility, not yours. But now for your duty. I want to impress, with all the strength that in me lies, upon every medical man in either the Army or the Navy, to remember always that in any time of crisis the chances are that you will have to work with imperfect implements. And your conduct will then afford a pretty good test of your worth. If you sit down and do nothing but say you could have done excellently if only you had had the right implements to work with, you will show your unfitness for your position. Your business will be to do the very best you can do, if you have nothing in the world but a jack-knife to do it with. Keep before your minds all the time that when the crisis occurs it is almost sure to be the case that you will have to do no small part of your work with make-shifts; to do it, as I myself saw at Santiago the Army physicians do their work, roughly and hastily, when worn out with fatigue and having but one-fourth or one-fifth of the appliances that they would expect normally to have. Make up your mind that while you will do all you can to get the best material together in advance, you will not put forward the lack of that material as an excuse for not doing the best work possible with imperfect tools. Make it a matter of pride to do your utmost, without regard to the inadequacy of your instruments.
I am sure that all of us outsiders here realize the weight of responsibility resting upon those who now join the great and honorable body of men who in the Navy and in the Army have by their actions upheld not only the standard of honor of the medical profession, but the standard of honor of the officers of the Army and the Navy of the United States.
I greet you on your entrance into the service. I welcome you as servants of the Nation, and I wish you every success in the great and honorable calling which you have chosen as yours.
AT OUTDOOR MEETING AT DALLAS, TEX., APRIL 5, 1905
Mr. Mayor; and you, My Fellow-Americans:
It has been indeed a pleasure for me to come to-day within the limits of your mighty and beautiful State. This afternoon I have been traveling through a veritable garden of the Lord. It is only a few weeks ago that I did my part in helping on the growth here when I signed the bill under which the Trinity River will be improved, which I was mighty glad to do. For I think that we Americans have learned the lesson that whatever is good for some of us is good for all of us. We are all going to go up, and not down, because we are going to go together. I have been impressed even more than by the beauty and fertility of your State by the character of its people. Surely no President could be more touched by any greeting than by a greeting such as this; and above all (I know the others of you will not mind my saying) to be greeted by the men who, when the hour of trial came in 1861, sprang to arms, and whether they wore the blue, or whether they wore the gray, proved the sincerity of their devotion by the valor with which they risked their lives. Oh, my fellow-countrymen, think what a blessed thing it is that now every man in this land can feel the same pride in the valor and devotion of those who fought for one side and of those who fought for the other! I can, in a sense, claim to be, by blood at least, a typical President, for I am half Southern and half Northern; I was born in the East and I have lived much in and learned much from the West.
The Civil War has left us as a heritage of honor not merely the memory of the mighty deeds done in it alike by the men of the North and the men of the South; it has left us also as an inspiration and a memory the way in which when the war was over those men turned to the works of peace, and wrought out in peace success exactly as they had wrought it out in war.
I come to Texas not for the first time. Seven years ago, again there was a call to arms, a call to arms against a foreign foe. It then fell to my lot to come here to help in raising a regiment, a regiment in which I think over half of the men had fathers who served in the Confederate army, and about one-third, perhaps somewhat more, fathers who served in the Union army. We were the sons of the men who wore the blue, the sons of the men who wore the gray, and our only desire was to show ourselves not wholly unworthy of the mighty men of the years that are past.
You of this State of Texas have behind you a history containing the deeds of which not only you but all of the country must be forever proud. My regiment was raised under the walls of that historic building of which it was said that “Thermopylæ had its messengers of death, but the Alamo had none.” You, the men of Texas, like the men of Oregon and California, like the men of Kentucky and Tennessee in a previous generation, did your part in changing this Nation from a string of Atlantic seaboard commonwealths into a people bounded only by a continent. No people more than the Texans have rendered it impossible for this country to be anything but great. It is not open to us to choose whether we shall play a small part or a great part. Your fathers helped to make that choice impossible. Play a great part we must. All that we can decide is whether we shall play it well or ill; and I know too well, oh, my fellow-countrymen, not to know what your decision will be.
The problems change. One generation faces different difficulties from the difficulties faced by its predecessors. But the spirit in which those problems must be faced is forever the same. You, the men of the Civil War, who wrought deeds of deathless fame, who left memories of honor that will last as long as this Nation endures, fought with muzzle-loading, percussion-cap muskets and rifles, with cannon that you could afford to put out in the open when you wanted to shoot at the foe. You fought still in the shoulder-to-shoulder tactics. Nowadays men must fight with different weapons; men must fight with different tactics; but the spirit in which they must fight if they are to win must be the spirit that sustained you alike in triumph and defeat. The outward problem changes, the outward means of solving that problem changes, but the heart of the man who is to solve it can not be changed. We must show as a Nation now the same spirit that has been shown by the mighty men of times past under penalty of failure; show it in war if the need arises; and we must also show it in peace; show it in the days that are with us all the time instead of waiting for the heroic days that may never come.
Just as in time of war the man who does his duty in camp, on the march, who does not throw away his blanket at noon because it is heavy, and then wishes that he had two at midnight, is the type of man who makes the best soldier in the long run; so it is true that in civil life the man who does his duty as a citizen in the long run is the man who does his ordinary work day by day, doing each day’s duty, great or small, behaving as he should toward his wife, toward his children, toward his neighbor, in his business, in his home; and if he does those duties well the sum of the duties performed means that he is a good citizen.
I want you men of Texas, you men of my age, to see to it that exactly as you lift your heads higher because of what your fathers have done, so your children have the right to hold their heads higher because of the way in which you handle yourselves. A glorious memory is the best of all things for a nation if it spurs that nation on to try to rise level with that memory. It is a poor thing for a nation if it uses the memory of the past to excuse it for inaction or failure in the present. Keep it before yourselves ever that the very fact that you are proud of those who have gone before makes it incumbent upon you to leave a heritage of honor to those who are to come after you, and to train up those who are to come after you so that they can do their work in the world. One of the things that has pleased me most in passing through the part of your State that I have passed through this afternoon was to see the care that you are giving to the education of the children, to see the public schools and the private schools that you have built and in which your boys and girls are being trained. Do not forget that besides the training of the school must come the training in the family. Take care the next generation is able to rise level to its duty. You can not make it rise level if you do not give it the proper training. Remember always that this life is certain to contain much that is hard, much that is unpleasant. It is not a kindness to the children, it is a curse, if you train them so that they can not meet any need that arises. I do not believe that we ought ever to try to delude ourselves with the thought that we can make life easy, effortless, and yet keep it worth having. For a nation as for an individual the life is the life of effort. You have made this great State of Texas what it is because your forefathers had in them the spirit which recognized in a difficulty something not to be flinched from, but to be overcome.
I can not sufficiently thank you for the way you have greeted me to-day. I am more touched than I can express by it. I come to the soil of this State, hallowed by the great deeds of great men, I come knowing your people already and believing in them with my heart and soul. A couple of years ago I went from the Atlantic to the Pacific. I have now come down to this mighty State, this wonderful commonwealth, which borders on the Gulf, and I shall go away with the feeling that after all, while there are small differences among us, the fundamental fact is that wherever you find the average American, the average American is a pretty good man. It is our unity, not our divergency, that is the great fundamental fact of our national life. I shall go away a stronger and better American for having been in this State of strong and good Americans, this mighty commonwealth of Texas.