titled, on her own decision, to order the character of independent existence she might choose to live. Supported by the luminous monitions of the "Farewell Address," this ritual of separate American existence became the greatest of all the legacies bequeathed by these master builders to generations yet unborn. The great name and the great heart that gave it validation were Washington's: but the great wisdom, the great courage and the great fidelity out of which it sprang were Alexander Hamilton's. Indeed, of all the encyclopedic labors of this rare genius who made more dynamic contribution to the American foundation than any other patriot who ever lived, perhaps this was the greatest.

But a principle of government, however great, could not have graduated into a tradition, confirmed by time and event, except as others, taking up the Republic's subsequent labors, made its faith their own and carried on. That is precisely what did happen-and hence the trail. Other Presidents embraced "neutrality" in the midst of other alien alarms-reiterating the intention not to subordinate our precious independence to the shifting vagaries of Europe. Then still other Presidents insisted that the hemispherical divorce must be complete, and that as we kept out of Europe, so Europe must leave the Americas alone. The "Monroe Doctrine" born-and born to many prideful triumphs. But it was one thing to proclaim: another, to per

sist. Down the trailing years, this tradition of articulating independence faced many challenges: but rarely did it want for implacable defenders, vigilant and successful defenders, whether the challenge was a foreign threat or a domestic surrender. Always, in the end, it won. There have been thrilling episodes en route. There have been dangerous days. There have been skirmishes and ambuscades. There have been those, upon the treacherous seas, who have denied our right to be free of others' ails and who have tried to rob us of our vantage. There have been those, at home, who have envisioned a beautiful worldwide brotherhood of man-a vast polyglot brought out of Babel and to the promised land-to which their zealotry has been willing to offer up our independence as an experimental sacrifice. There have been those, abroad, who to their sorrow have treated our protestations with contempt. A stirring gauntlet, the trail has run. But the more the glory that the tradition has survived. Such a tradition, thus bulwarked, never should be lightly abandoned by America. Statesmen of all parties have rallied to its standard. The spirits of Andrew Jackson and Theodore Roosevelt are at one upon this score; and Hamilton himself was not more determined than Grover Cleveland, who fervently declared that "this philosophy cannot become obsolete while the Republic shall endure."

This independent "Nationalism" is not a chauvinistic thing-of brags and boasts-of magnilo

quence and fanfaronade. It is far too solemn in its dedication and its purpose. Perhaps it seems to take on alarming swagger when the provincial orator lifts his tremolo on July Fourth. Perhaps it seems to suffer from unwarrantable ego in the presence of subsequent recital-since this book is at the disadvantage, on this score, of having to take isolated examples from numerous eras and to parade them as though they were serial. But intelligent "Nationalism," though justly proud, is not flamboyant. Neither is it cavalier. Indeed, it is sobered by its stewardship. It is tempered by its responsibilities. But it knows the independent rights that are singularly America's by rule of justice and tradition: and it proposes that they shall be preserved.

True, it is a thing of sentiment-but worthy sentiment. The "Nationalist" is not that most miserable of all creatures a man without a country or perhaps what Channing called a "friend of every country but his own.' He holds no communion with intellectual expatriates. He agrees with Bulwer-Lytton that "patriotism is a safer principle than philanthropy" and that "Sancho Panza administering his island is a better model than Don Quixote sallying forth to right the wrongs of the universe.' He is not willing to toss his national idols, his national ideals, his legitimate national aspirations into one common melting pot, there to be fused into a colorless, shapeless, puerile, futile "internationalism" that

shall undertake the impossible task of being all things to all men. He demands the preservation of his national identity. He respectfully declines to trade his independent citizenship for the doubtful status of a cosmopolite. Furthermore, he believes that just as no man can neglect his own house and home and compensate society by taking a benevolent interest in his neighbors, so America cannot forsake her "Nationalism" and yet retain those elements of peculiar and righteous eminence which make for greatest service not only to herself, but also to the general human weal. This isn't truculent vanity. It is faith. It is fidelity to yesterday's tradition and tomorrow's untrammeled destiny. The "jingo" may rant ominously, belligerently, from a noisy pulpit of self-assumed superiorities which are egotistically careless of offense and contemptuous of international opinion. But intelligent "Nationalism denies relationship with any such bombast. It does not require the inculcation of scorns or hatreds or distrusts for other lands and other peoples; it is not a doctrine of external depreciation or destruction. It is a constructive ritual. It seeks maximum friendliness and understanding and self-ordered reciprocal relations with every sector of civilization, no matter what its flag. But it insists that the surrender of American independence is not pre-requisite for these conquests of desirable trans-oceanic amities and of practical international fraternity: nay, more, it insists that

the surrender makes the conquest impossible. Never was "Nationalism," in this phase, reduced to more sterling code than when opposing American adhesion to the Geneva League, Senator Albert B. Cummins of Iowa declared: "I would stand-if I stood alone-for an America with the right to choose from time to time the company she keeps; for an America at liberty to follow her own conscience as the events of the future transpire; for an America which all the nations of the earth are powerless to order from right doing or command to wrong doing; for an America concerned for the world, but devoted first and always to the protection and welfare of her own people."

Some advanced thinkers find patriotism a collection of shams-and perhaps, sometimes, as Samuel Johnson said, it really is "the last refuge of a scoundrel." Quite readily let it be admitted, unhappily, that all patriotic pretense is not what it pretends. Yet a Republic without patriotism would be a mere soulless group of persons. Certainly it would not be America. "Nationalism" claims no monopoly of patriotism: but it undertakes to live a patriotism that is effectually faithful. It is quite the habit of some higher intellectuals to frown upon what they deem the blind and stupid fidelity of Stephen Decatur-"Our Country! In her intercourse with foreign nations, may she always be right; but our country, right or wrong!" Yet, under cold analysis, what other