"The loud little handful -- as usual -- will shout for the war. The
pulpit will -- warily and cautiously -- object... at first. The great,
big, dull bulk of the nation will rub its sleepy eyes and try to make
out why there should be a war, and will say, earnestly and indignantly,
'It is unjust and dishonorable, and there is no necessity for it.' Then
the handful will shout louder. A few fair men on the other side will
argue and reason against the war with speech and pen, and at first will
have a hearing and be applauded, but it will not last long; those
others will outshout them, and presently the antiwar audiences will
thin out and lose popularity. Before long, you will see this curious
thing: the speakers stoned from the platform, and free speech strangled
by hordes of furious men... Next the statesmen will invent cheap lies,
putting the blame upon the nation that is attacked, and every man will
be glad of those conscience-soothing falsities, and will diligently
study them, and refuse to examine any refutations of them; and thus he
will by and by convince himself that the war is just, and will thank
God for the better sleep he enjoys after this process of grotesque
self-deception."