ABSTRACT
It is about a week before the conventions, and the nation is not clamoring for anybody. Woodrow Wilson is to be renominated in St. Louis; in Chicago the appeal is entirely to the politicians. It is possible of course that some form of revivalism will sweep the convention. The ideal is a thrilling, nerve-wracking platitude: Peace and Prosperity; Preparedness without Militarism; American Rights, American Honor; Deeds not Words; Americanism. There is a fervent desire on every one's part to proclaim his adhesion to ideas which almost nobody can dispute. Perhaps the most terrible of all the curses of war is the way it destroys the delicate fabric of thought and sends men scampering to their dumb attachments. In time of war whole populations will live and die for phrases which no man can define. Ideas, discrimination, and invention require a climate of assurance and liberal ease, and the bewildering complexity of danger is their mortal enemy.
