think we in conscience could close them against men who wanted to join their force with ours in vindicating the claim of mankind to liberty and justice.

America does not want any additional territory. She does not want any selfish advantage over any other nation in the world, but she does wish every nation in the world to understand what she stands for and to respect what she stands for; and I cannot conceive of any man of any blood or origin failing to feel an enthusiasm for the things that America stands for, or failing to see that they are indefinitely elevated above any purpose of aggression or selfish advantage.

I said the other evening in another place that one of the principles which America held dear was that small and weak States had as much right to their sovereignty and independence as large and strong States. She believes that because strength and weakness have nothing to do with her principles. Her principles are for the rights and liberties of mankind, and this is the haven which we have offered to those who believe that sublime and sacred creed of humanity.

And I also said that I believed the people of the United States were ready to become partners in any alliance of the nations that would guarantee public right above selfish aggression. Some of the public prints have reminded me, as if I needed to be reminded, of what General Washington warned us against. He warned us against entangling alliances. I shall never myself consent to an entangling alliance, but I would gladly assent to a disentangling alliance-an alliance which would disentangle the peoples of the world from those com

binations in which they seek their own separate and private interests and unite the people of the world to preserve the peace of the world upon a basis of common right and justice. There is liberty there, not limitation. There is freedom, not entanglement. There is the achievement of the highest things for which the United States has declared its principle.

We have been engaged recently, my fellow citizens, in discussing the processes of preparedness. I have been trying to explain to you what we are getting prepared for, and I want to point out to you the only process of preparation which is possible for the United States.

It is possible for the United States to get ready only if the men of suitable age and strength will volunteer to get ready.

I heard the president of the United States Chamber of Commerce report the other evening on a referendum of 750 of the Chambers of Commerce of the United States upon the question of preparedness, and he reported that 99 per cent of them had voted in favor of preparedness. Very well, now, we are going to apply the acid test, to those gentlemen, and the acid test is this: Will they give the young men in their employment freedom to volunteer for this thing? I wish the referendum had included that, because that is of the essence of the matter.

It is all very well to say that somebody else must prepare, but are the business men of this country ready themselves to lend a hand and sacrifice an interest in order that we may get ready? We shall have an answer to that question in the next few months. A bill is lying

upon my table now, ready to be signed, which bristles all over with that interrogation point, and I want all the business men of the country to see that interrogation point staring them in the face. I have heard a great many people talk about universal training. Universal voluntary training, with all my heart, if you wish it, but America does not wish anything but the compulsion of the spirit of America.

I, for my part, do not entertain any serious doubt of the answer to these questions, because I suppose there is no place in the world where the compulsion of public opinion is more imperative than it is in the United States. You know yourself how you behave when you think nobody is watching. And now all the people of the United States are watching each other. There never was such a blazing spotlight upon the conduct and principles of every American as each one of us now walks and blinks in.

And as this spotlight sweeps its relentless rays across every square mile of the territory of the United States, I know a great many men, even when they do not want to, are going to stand up and say, "Here." Because America is roused, roused to a self-consciousness and a national self-consciousness such as she has not had in a generation.

And this spirit is going out conquering and to conquer until, it may be, in the Providence of God, a new light is lifted up in America which shall throw the rays of liberty and justice far abroad upon every sea, and even upon the lands which now wallow in darkness and refuse to see the light.

ADDRESS TO THE GRADUATING CLASS OF THE UNITED STATES MILITARY

ACADEMY, JUNE 13, 1916

The United States Military Academy was authorized by an act of Congress of March 16, 1802. West Point, New York, was selected for its location, and, with a class of ten cadets present, it was formally opened on July 4, 1802. The Act of May 4, 1916, provided that the Corps of Cadets at the United States Military Academy shall hereafter consist of two for each congressional district, two from each Territory, four from the District of Columbia, two from natives of Porto Rico, four from each State at large, and eighty from the United States at large twenty of whom shall be selected from among the honor graduates of educational institutions having officers of the Regular Army detailed as professors of military science and tactics under existing law or any law hereafter enacted for the detail of officers of the Regular Army to such institutions, and which institutions are designated as "honor schools" upon the determination of their relative standing at the last preceding annual inspection regularly made by the War Department. They shall be appointed by the President and shall, with the exception of the eighty appointed from the United States at large, be actual residents of the Congressional or Territorial district, or of the District of Columbia, or of the island of Porto Rico, or of the States, respectively, from which they purport to be appointed. On mental and physical examination they are admitted to the Academy, and upon the successful completion of four years of study are appointed second lieutenants of the Regular Army. The number allowed by law is 1336 and the actual number in attendance in 1917 was 898. To the class graduating on June 13, 1916, President Wilson delivered the following address.

I look upon this body of men who are graduating today with a peculiar interest. I feel like congratulating them that they are living in a day not only so interesting, because so fraught with change, but also because so responsible. Days of responsibility are the only days that count in time, because they are the only days that give test of quality. They are the only days when manhood and purpose is tried out as if by fire. I need not tell you young gentlemen that you are not like an ordinary graduating class of one of our universities. The men in those classes look forward to the life which they are to lead after graduation with

a great many questions in their mind. Most of them do not know exactly what their lives are going to develop into. Some of them do not know what occupations they are going to follow. All of them are conjecturing what will be the line of duty and advancement and the ultimate goal of success for them.

There is no conjecture for you. You have enlisted in something that does not stop when you leave the Academy, for you then only begin to realize it, which then only begins to be fulfilled with the full richness of its meaning, and you can look forward with absolute certainty to the sort of thing that you will be obliged to do.

This has always been true of graduating classes at West Point, but the certainty that some of the older classes used to look forward to was a dull certainty. Some of the old days in the army, I fancy, were not very interesting days. Sometimes men like the present Chief of Staff, for example, could fill their lives with the interest of really knowing and understanding the Indians of the Western plains, knowing what was going on inside their minds and being able to be the intermediary between them and those who dealt with them, by speaking their sign language, could enrich their lives, but the ordinary life of the average officer at a Western post can not have been very exciting, and I think with admiration of those dull years through which officers who had not a great deal to do insisted, nevertheless, upon being efficient and worth while and keeping their men fit at any rate, for the duty to which they were assigned.