The American people did not wait for the report of the Naval Board to form an opinion as to the cause of the tragedy. The masses think in events, and not in syllogisms, and this was an event. This event provoked suspicions in the public mind. The thought of the whole nation was instantly directed to Cuba. The fate of the sailors on the Virginius, twenty-five years ago, was recalled. The public curiosity about everything Cuban and Spanish became intense. The Weyler method of warfare became more generally known. The story of our long diplomatic trouble with Spain was recalled. Diplomacy was obliged to proceed with doors less securely shut. The country watched for news from Washington and from Madrid with eagerness. It happened to be a singularly quiet and even dull time in our own political life—a time favorable for the concentration of public attention on any subject that prominently presented itself.

Leslie's Weekly voiced the popular sentiment in its issue of April 14 in the following language:

"If the report of the board of inquiry is accepted as final, then the destruction of the Maine was an act of war. The Maine was in a Spanish harbor on a peaceful errand. Its location was fixed by the Spanish authorities, and if a mine was planted in the harbor, it could only have been planted by the Spaniards. To think otherwise is to discredit the official report. The verdict may be challenged by the Spanish government. Spain may insist on the raising of the wreck and upon an expert examination. If such an examination is made, and if the weight of evidence controverts the verdict, our position will be humiliating. We take it, therefore, that our government is entirely satisfied with the examination, and that it accepts the verdict of the court of inquiry as final and without appeal. This verdict makes Spain responsible for the loss of the Maine, the sacrifice of the lives of 266 heroes, and for all the consequences involved. The indictment must be answered. Any other nation than this would have demanded an immediate answer. We can wait. On the answer made by Spain the issues of the future must depend. No policy of evasion such as Spain has pursued in all her dealings with us will enable her to escape. She is at the bar of judgment with bloody fingers, and must plead guilty. No other plea can be accepted. And the punishment must fit the crime."

CAUSES LEADING TO STRIFE.

The better the condition of Cuba was understood, the more deplorable it was seen to be; the more the government of the island was examined, the wider seemed the divergence between Spain's methods and our own; the more the diplomatic history of the case was considered, the plainer became Spain's purpose to brook no interference, whether in the name of humanity or in the name of friendly commercial interests. The calm report of the naval court of inquiry on the blowing up of the Maine and Senator Proctor's report on the condition of Cuba put the whole people in a serious mood.

These and more made their contributions to the rapidly rising excitement. But all these together could not have driven us to war if we had not been willing to be driven—if the conviction had not become firm in the minds of the people that Spanish rule in Cuba was a blot on civilization that had now begun to bring reproach to us; and when the President, who favored peace, declared it intolerable, the people were ready to accept his judgment.

Congress, it is true, in quiet times, is likely to represent the shallows and the passing excitement of our life rather than its deeper moods, but there is among the members of Congress a considerable body of conservative men; and the demand for war was practically unanimous, and public opinion sustained it. Among the people during the period when war seemed inevitable, but had not yet been declared—a period during which the powers of Europe found time and mind to express a hope for peace—hardly a peace meeting was held by influential men. The President and his Cabinet were known to wish longer to try diplomatic means of averting war, but no organized peace party came into existence. Except expressions of the hope of peace made by commercial and ecclesiastical organizations, no protest was heard against the approaching action of Congress. Many thought that war could be postponed, if not prevented, but the popular mood was at least acquiescent, if not insistent, and it eventually became unmistakably approving.

Not only was there in the United States an unmistakable popular approval of war as the only effective means of restoring civilization in Cuba, but the judgment of the English people promptly approved it—giving evidence of an instinctive race and institutional sympathy. If Anglo-Saxon institutions and methods stand for anything, the institutions and methods of Spanish rule in Cuba were an abomination and a reproach. And English sympathy was not more significant as an evidence of the necessity of the war, and as a good omen for the future of free institutions, than the equally instinctive sympathy with Spain that was expressed by some of the decadent influences on the continent; indeed, the real meaning of the American civilization and ideals will henceforth be somewhat more clearly understood in several quarters of the world.

American character will be still better understood when the whole world clearly perceives that the purpose of the war was only to remove from our very doors this cruel and inefficient piece of medievalism which was one of the great scandals of the closing years of the century.

Notwithstanding the fact that we were on the very verge of war, with all its horrors, all its possibilities of destruction to life and happiness, the nation pursued its accustomed way, transacted its business by day, and slept peacefully at night. Upon the shoulders of the Chief Executive rested the gravest of all responsibilities, and the nation trusted to him to carry it safely. Rash and impetuous demands for hasty and hostile action were heard. Congressmen, under the pressure of their constituents, filled the air with cries for speedy action, but amid all the tumult the President stood serene. He realized, what the country, strangely enough, had not comprehended, that we were drifting into a conflict with a nation that was on a war footing. He knew that we were totally unprepared for war. Munitions, ships, stores, supplies, of vast amount and infinite variety, were absolutely required before a step could be taken. Harbor defenses, a closer connection between exposed points, and the installation of modern armaments—a thousand things had to be done, and done at once. Modern guns required supplies of modern ammunition, of which there was scarcely any to be obtained on this side of the water. This was the situation, as the President, the heads of the army and the navy, and the Cabinet saw it, and it was left discreetly undisclosed to the world.