“A fool without fear is sometimes wiser than an angel with fear.”
IT WAS very kind of the English Speaking Union and the League of Nations Union American Committee to have thought of giving me this welcome. It was particularly appropriate that they should have asked the First Lord of the Admiralty to preside, and gracious of him to come. You see, if I have done any good in any way in public life, it’s due to the men and women of England’s most famous port—Plymouth. I think we can safely call it the most historical port in the world for two reasons: first, it was off Plymouth that the Armada was defeated. That may seem just a big sea-fight of ancient days. It was not thought so by the enemy at the time. They knew what it meant. It meant that England would be free to worship God in her own way—not free enough for some, but far freer than any other place in the world at that time. Then, from Plymouth, those who found their more advanced ideas about religious freedom hampered, sailed away to America, where they carried on their English traditions of freedom. There, in course of time, all men from all countries found freedom to worship God in their own way. I think it would have shocked them had they realised that some whom they welcomed to their shores would preach hate in the name of God toward the country from which they came; yet that is what they have done, some of these people who went to America. They have not understood that true freedom can never come to a man or a nation that hates. I, personally, have never feared people who preach hate—never—and in 1918 I was proved right. The nation which hated most was most handsomely defeated. The people in America who preach hate will also some day be defeated, and I don’t believe their days is far off.
I am an unregenerate Anglo-Saxon, not because I am a Virginian-born British M. P., not because I care so desperately for the British Empire or the United States, but because I care for something even greater than these two great countries. I care for civilisation based on Christianity. I’ll admit that I have not seen much of it yet, but I’ve seen glimpses of it, and I’ve seen thousands of men lay down their lives because it seemed the nearest right. It seemed nearer right than the belief that might is right. They had a vision, and that vision goes on. It’s in many a heart, and it’s the hope of the world. Other countries have visions, but no other countries in the world have fought and won so many battles for freedom as the English-speaking peoples. The Reformation, it is true, began in Germany, but it was in England that its spirit flourished. Anglo-Saxonism stands to me for true freedom, spiritual progress, high moral ideals, and a great sense of service. It is based on the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man. I know we fail miserably to carry out our high ideals, but we have no illusions about our virtue when we do fail. We don’t talk nonsense about the superman or our thwarted souls. We know every one of us well enough right from wrong. We have an ideal, and if we will only listen to our consciences we realise that the Kingdom of God is within us, and it’s our failure, not God’s, if this Kingdom seems so far away.
Now there must be people in all nations who feel like this, but I believe that there are more people in the English-speaking countries who have been taught this than in any other countries. They have been taught a progressive Christianity. They have been taught to think for themselves, and that is why I am so keen that these two great nations should not only go on thinking for themselves, but should think how to help all mankind. To be great for ourselves is the poorest sort of greatness. It is pitiful, because it is not great at all.
I now finish my sermon on Anglo-Saxon idealism, and turn to facts as I have found them in America. I am not here to speak of England; I did that for one month in America. To-night I am here to speak of America, and I can do so with as much pride and confidence as to her greatness as I spoke of England’s in America. Let no one mistake America’s greatness—her greatness of heart. That’s what struck me most forcibly from the first time I spoke there. You may not realise that my first speeches in America were on the need of America’s coming into a league of peace. I spoke frankly and tried to point out why she was needed—that it was just because of the entanglements of Europe and her own happy fate and freedom from these entanglements that she, above all other nations, had such a chance to help on the peace of the world. No one desires to get any one else into entanglements, but we long to disentangle the entangled. If America had been able to stay in on the reparation question, with no axe of her own to grind, we all feel that the world might have been in a better position now—international markets might have been more prosperous and fewer children might have been starving. We can’t blame any country for thanking God that she is not entangled in the European chaos, but we must count on the wise people of all countries to help to put the tangle straight.
Everywhere I went in America I spoke of the League of Nations. Everywhere I found hundreds and thousands of people eager to help along a league of peace. Much in this league of nations has been misunderstood and misrepresented in America. The Covenant became mixed up with party politics at election time. Millions of Americans seemed to favour some modified league of peace. I am sure this country has never considered the League perfect or above amendment; and I believe that changes could be made which would improve the efficiency of the League and which would at the same time make international coÖperation acceptable in America. I may be wrong, I do not think so. Many in America have been frightened by certain clauses. They fear they might be drawn into European wars—as though England with her nine hundred thousand dead would ever join any league except to avoid wars. If certain clauses are unacceptable to America, let us change those clauses. No league can succeed unless it is based on mutual trust.
In America I tried to make them see that it was neither their money nor their sons, but their great moral support which was needed. I think myself that they realise it, thousands of them. The foreign-born American can hardly fail to see that the best way to help the country he has left is to vote for a real league of nations, which will include all nations. The League of Women Voters, which represents millions of women, is overwhelmingly in favour of some league of peace. Women of all countries want peace because we pay so heavily in war. There are women of all countries in America, and I feel sure they will work toward peace. They may give a lead to the men. They can if they will, and I feel that they will. America is bound to have a foreign policy if she has a Mercantile Marine! The thinking men and women realise that, and it’s only the thinkers in any country that count. They are thinking hard in America, thinking so hard that they are playing havoc with the old Party machines. They are bound to be broken unless they represent the soul of the country. I don’t believe that America cares more for oil concessions than for bleeding humanity. Certain interests may, but they exist in all countries.
If the Press of the country is any indication of the thought of the country, then we can rejoice when we read the American Press. Not the Personal Press. The Personal Press in all countries is very much alike and very misleading—in fact, it is a curse to any country. It’s no good the reporters taking this down for most of their employers won’t publish it. One reads the Press for news, true news and facts, not to have the news tainted by the personal prejudices of the owner. Unfortunately some newspaper owners don’t realise this, but we, who read their papers, can only pity them and pray for better times. Now the Associated Press of America is a shining light in the country, because it tries to put true European news before the people. Mr. Melville Stone, and the gentlemen who helped him to build up the Associated Press deserve, and some day will get, the gratitude of the world. True international news is what we need to know to-day. I was much struck with the good European news that once got in the American Press. Over here, except for a few commendable exceptions, one would almost think that America was made up of bootleggers, drunken society girls, and cinema scandals. If that were true, it would be far better that America should never come into a league of nations. But that kind of news does not represent the country: it is only true of those people who add to no country’s greatness, and unfortunately are to be found in all countries.
I could talk to you for hours of my travels, and the wonderful kindness shown me wherever we went. It was so unexpected. I never started on a mission; I never knew that America would be so interested in what England had done and was trying to do. They warned me not to speak of the League of Nations, but I found that a fool without fear is sometimes wiser than an angel with fear. I had to speak of what was in my heart. No one could have lived through these last seven years and not had their hearts either broken, hardened, or just made larger. I tried to tell them about English sailors and soldiers, and above all English women. Many could have done it better, but I feel that England’s greatness lies, perhaps, in her reticence. No English-born M. P. could have spoken out so. I had an unique opportunity, and sometimes when I feared I should fail, I remembered my friends in Flanders fields, and that gave me courage. However, it doesn’t take great courage to speak out what you feel is the truth to people, particularly if they are your own people. It’s a wonderful thing to belong to two great countries, but it’s even more wonderful to feel that the hearts and desires of these two countries are striving for what is best and what is right. It may take time before America comes into her own, but her own is clear to me. She cannot live up to her high ideals if she tries to live to herself alone. I don’t believe she wants to do it. She proved it at the Washington Conference. She had the chance to build the greatest navy in the world. She gave it up with as much grace as the greatest navy in the world gave up her long reign of the seas. There they showed the rest of the world how great they were. Sometime, somehow, America will confer again, and that will be to help the whole world, as England is so bravely trying to do almost alone now—to show men that her foundations are built on peace on earth and good-will toward all men.
“America is no more a mere country of business men than England is a nation of shop-keepers.”
IT’S a wonderful thing to feel that you in Plymouth, who gave me my first chance of public service, should be here to-night to thank me for any small service I may have rendered. I know that there are some here who never wanted to give me the chance, some who fought against my getting the chance, but that makes it all the more splendid and generous of them to come to-night. I hope that they will realise that, whenever a really big chance comes, the Member from this glorious old town will strive to do what is right, without party prejudice or partial affection. That’s what I tried to do in America. I never did half as well as I should have liked, but at least I did the best I knew how.
My American trip will always remain a mystery to me. A mystery and an inspiration. As you know, I never went out on a mission; I was not quite so egotistical as that. I went to speak to the League of Women Voters. They asked me, and I realised that, being Virginian born and a British M. P., I might be able to explain to them a little some of the outstanding characteristics of the British. I could stand before them as an emblem of British Justice. You all must know that a certain section of the Irish in America (and only a section—many of the Irish-Americans are among the best and most highly respected citizens) have made hatred of England not only a plank in their religious teachings, which is the greatest of all crimes (for it is a crime to teach hate in the name of God who is Love), but they have also made it a political issue. They are highly organised, and not a silent body by any means. They have grossly misrepresented England, but I think they have over-rated their powers. To hear them talk you would think that England was a monster of greed and injustice. Their propaganda is subtle, but it is not really convincing. I think it is killing itself. It is a poor thing to preach hatred and it is almost suicidal to nourish it. It is a losing doctrine and is bound to lose, if God is true and God is love. I am not afraid of those who preach hate—be it class, national, or international, for I believe that hate is a blind force, and that the truth about everything finally works through, though it takes time. This to me is one of the fundamental facts of civilisation. We are slowly but surely progressing nearer and nearer reality.
However, that is not what I came here to talk about. I am here to try to tell you of my trip. In the first two speeches I made, I spoke of England—her high ideals and desire to help the whole world. I spoke of the common bond between America and Great Britain, that bond I believe to be a common purpose of Peace on earth and good-will toward all men. I reminded them of what a great part the British Navy had played in making what civilisation we have. I don’t believe that any other country in the world but England or America, with the greatest navy in the world, would have used it always for purposes of peace. I’ll admit that before America was settled the navy under Drake was not exactly a missionary society, and yet it did missionary work, and made it possible for English ideals to go forth and spread the whole world over. I told them with as much pride as though I, personally, had bidden godspeed to Francis Drake and seen that his powder was dry.
I should remind you that Drake is as much a part of Virginian history as of England’s.
I spoke of the League of Nations, and how it could never be a real League without America, and that America’s greatness would never be true unless she helped the whole world; in fact, I just spoke out. I would have understood had they said: “This woman talks too freely; we don’t want to hear any more of what she has got to say.” I would have understood that; but they didn’t do that. After my first two speeches we got wires from all over America, from all kinds of associations and people asking us to speak—business men, Chambers of Commerce, colleges, etc.—that’s the wonderful part of the whole thing. I dared speak of England and the League of Nations, and of the pity that America should not be in, and they still wanted to hear. I have always felt that not only are America’s laws Anglo-Saxon, but her ideals are Anglo-Saxon, and I have always felt, too, that until people from other countries brought better laws and higher ideals than my forefathers carried from this country, that those laws and those ideals would be accepted, and would govern and guide all those millions of people from other nations who came to America. For the sake of humanity, one would wish America to accept better laws and better ideals if she could find them. I don’t think she has found them yet. She may have improved them, but the background and bedrock are the same. Virginia did improve them, and I was reminded in Canada that Nova Scotia got her laws from the Virginians, who had improved them to suit a young country, and from these laws a great nation is springing. Let no one forget America’s greatness. She is very young compared to the Old World. She may seem precocious—young people generally are—but she cares about real things, and her heart is as big as her territory. Ask any one who goes there, and they nearly all tell the same story of generous hospitality and a great sense of friendliness. I, being American born of only stout Anglo-Saxon forefathers, would naturally always love the real America, but this time I loved her more than ever, for I saw that my thoughts about her were right, and I loved her for letting me speak of England—how she had suffered, how she fought, and how hopeless she was at ever speaking of herself. I told them that perhaps some of her greatness lay in her reticence. When you do right, you can afford to be reticent. It is only people who are doing wrong who need to be continually talking. I knew that though ten Englishmen were being killed in the war for every two overseas men, to read the papers one would have thought that only the overseas men were fighting. So much was it so, that the German-Americans tried to use it as a proof of England’s selfishness. She saved her own men, they said, and sent the overseas men into the worst places. You and I and the men themselves know better. It was England’s dauntless chivalry which made her give first place in her accounts of the battles to her gallant sons who came so far to help her.Then I tried to tell them what English women did—how they bore it all; and just worked and smiled and helped their sons when they came from America. You here in Plymouth know all about that, for you did it so well. You bound many a Yankee with your West Country kindliness. They won’t forget. I went back and reminded them that English Kings found out in 1214 at Runnymede what the Kaiser only discovered in 1918. I reminded them that long before they set sail to settle America, Englishmen were fighting for freedom. They let me say all this, and they listened and were very kind.
And so we travelled far and wide, the two Plymouth M. P.’s of the Upper and Lower Houses. The Member of the Upper House was a far greater success than the member of the Lower House. They were slightly prepared for my democratic outlook, but they were totally unprepared for his. Imagine their surprise when they found him more progressive and democratic than most of the people that they saw about them.
Before I leave America, I must tell you that my welcome in Virginia was best of all—Virginia, England’s first child and my first home. All I can tell you here at Plymouth about Virginia is this: I got a Plymouth man a job in Virginia, and I saw him when I got back home and he said: “Lady Astor, you are right about Virginia. I didn’t feel a bit away from Devon here. It’s just like home.” And so I feel about Plymouth. It, too, to me is just like home. There’s the same sort of naturalness about Virginians as there is about Devonians. We both have fine traditions, and perhaps we are both a little slow. The rest of the countries may pick out many faults in us, but they can also pick out many pages of history that would not have been written without us.
We went from New York to Baltimore, Washington, Philadelphia, Virginia, then Chicago—a wonderful place—and everywhere we found a great spirit of hope. It really seems a land of hope. Then we went to Canada. Everyone in Canada was kind, from the Prime Minister down, and most of my friends were down. They appeared all along the railway on the train from Ottawa to Montreal. When I was trying to rest a bit I heard at a wayside station two familiar voices—“Hurry up and come out, Mrs. Astor, we’ve come a long way to see you.” There they were—two of the Canadian soldiers from the Hospital at Cliveden. Virginia and Canada did give me a very personal kind of welcome; so much so that I can’t really speak of it, but I told them I realised that in thanking me, they were just thanking all the women of England who had worked so hard for their sons.
Now I don’t want you to think that we took this trip for any personal purpose; that wouldn’t have been worth while, and yet it turned out to be for a purpose—a purpose far above anything so small as a personality—things we believed in, not what we had attained. But we saw we had a chance to speak the kind of things that would unite, and we took it; and I firmly believe that some day we shall see the British Empire and America not bound together by any treaty—they may never sign any agreement—that won’t matter, but seeing things as they saw them at Washington. There are so many people in these two countries who are working for what is greater than all nations—Civilisation based on Christianity. I know you may look around and say we have very little civilisation and even less Christianity; yet we have a nucleus, a leaven perhaps, and some day it will leaven the whole. You may rightly say bitter things about America not coming into the League of Nations—no more bitter things than I heard some Americans say. I can’t pretend to say that America will come into this League of Nations. I am no prophet; but I would stake my very life that some day and some hour America will come into some sort of League of Peace—not to protect herself, but to protect the peace of the world. I know that there are hundreds and thousands of men and women in America who are striving for what is best and right in civic, national, and international life. There are people in all countries with vision, and they keep the rest from perishing. America is no more a mere country of business men than England is a nation of shop-keepers. We do business and we keep shops, but we don’t end there. That’s only where we begin. The countries who taunt us with that find, when there’s famine in the world, American business men and English shop-keepers are the first to help.
To-day is Independence Day in America. Little American children are burning their fingers with fire crackers. American orators are burning their audiences with oratory. They are speaking of America’s great fight for Independence. Let us all remember that the American War of Independence was fought by British Americans against a German King and a reactionary Prime Minister for British ideals, and that a large part of the British nation sympathised with the rebels. The same old British fighting always for freedom! The great American of that day was a Virginian—George Washington. Some one described him as one of England’s greatest sons. He was a Virginian with only British blood—I am just the other way around—a British M. P. with only Virginian blood. I am no leader, no general, and no statesman, but I hope I am a fighter, especially when it’s a fight for peace. Many of us believe that until the British Empire and America get together and lead the world in Peace—Peace will be a long time coming. We feel, too, that in fighting for understanding between these two countries we are fighting for something far greater than any one country—for a civilisation based on Christianity.
THE END
