insult our flag, to balk our policies, to harass our commerce and even to threaten our very independence; and putting us in imminent danger of discomfiture of all sorts, unless we stand with sword in hand in sleepless watch and cover the seas with warships and picket the islands of every ocean with garrisoned outposts, and surround ourselves far and near with impregnable fortresses. What a poor idea those indulging in such talk have of the true position of their country among the nations of the world.
A little calm reflection will convince every unprejudiced mind that there is not a single Power, nor even an imaginable combination of Powers, on the face of the globe that can wish—I might almost say, that can afford—a serious quarrel with the United States. There are very simple reasons for this. A war in our days is not a mere matter of military skill, nor even—as it would certainly not be in our case—a mere matter of preparation for the first onset. It is a matter of material resources, of reserves, of staying-power. Now, considering that in all these respects our means are substantially inexhaustible, and that the patriotic spirit and the extraordinary ingenuity of our people would greatly aid their development in the progress of a conflict; considering that, however grievous the injuries, a strong hostile navy might inflict upon us at the beginning of a war, it could not touch a vital point, as on land we would be immensely superior to any army that could be brought upon our shores; considering that thus a war with the United States, as a test of endurance, would, so far, as our staying-power is concerned, be a war of indefinite duration; considering all these things, I am justified in saying that no European Power can engage in such a conflict with us without presenting to its rivals in the old world the most tempting opportunity for hostile action. And no European Power will do this, unless
