There is "great rejoicing at the nation's capital." So says
the morning's paper.
The enemy's fleet has been annihilated.
Mothers are delighted because other mothers have lost
sons just like their own;
Wives and daughers smile at the thought of new-made
widows and orphans;
Strong men are full of glee because other strong men
are either slain or doomed to rot alive in torments;
Small boys are delirious with pride and joy as they
fancy themselves thrusting swords into soft flesh, and
burning and laying waste such homes as they
themselves inhabit;
Another capital is cast down with mourning and humiliation
just in proportion as ours is raised up, and
that is the very spice of our triumph....
This is life--this is patriotism--this is rapture!
But we--what are we, men or devils? And our Christian
capital--what is it but an outpost of hell?
Who are you at Washington who presume to declare me
the enemy of anybody or to declare any nation my
enemy?
However great you may be, I altogether deny your
authority to sow enmity and hatred in my soul....
Before God your commissions and warrants and
enlistment rolls, relieving men of conscience and
independence and manhood, are not worth the paper
they are written on....
Hypnotize fools and cowards if you will, but for my
part, I choose to be a man.
I am no partiot.
I do not wish my countrymen to overrun the world....
I love my country too well to be a patriot....
Hail to the hero!
Decked out in blue, red, and gilt, as in war-paint....
Proud to commit with these adornments all the crimes
for which he would be disgraced and punished as
a felon without them--
Modestly bearing on his breast a star and ribbon which
say, "I am a hero," as plainly as the beggar's placard
says, "I am blind"--
Followed by a brass band and bass drum, which screw
up his courage at a pinch like the war dance and
tom-tom...
Admitting that he obeys orders without thinking, and
thus proclaiming his complete abdication of
conscience and intellect--
Rushing home from the fray to advertise himself in the
magazines at a hundred dollars a page--
Hail to the hero!....
The old, old dream of empire--
The dream of Alexander and Caesar, of Tamerlane and
Genghis Khan--
The dream of subject peoples carrying out our sovereign
will through fear--
The dream of a universe forced to converge upon us--
The dream of pride and loftiness justified by strength of
arms--
The dream of our arbitrary "Yea" overcoming all "Nays"
whatsoever--
The dream of a cold, stern, hated machine of an empire!
But there is a more enticing dream:...
The dream of a warm, throbbing, one-hearted empire of
brothers!...