CERTAIN PHASES OF THE PEACE MOVEMENT

"Now tell us all about the war,And what they fought each other for."

Here we have the central question in the problem of war. Why do men fight? Through the answer to that question lies the path to world-peace.

Few men fight to-day for glory. Modern militarism has no place for Lancelots and Galahads. The glory of the regiment has absorbed the glory of the individual. Few men fight to-day to gain great wealth. The treasures that glittered before Pizarro do not tempt our soldiers. Material wealth is more easily won in factory or farm or mill. Few men fight to-day for religion. The conquest of religion has become a conquest of peace; the very ideal of peace is an end of religion itself. Glory,wealth, religion—these are no longer the causes of war. Then why do men fight? The answer is obvious. Men fight to-day for patriotism. Patriotism is the cause of war.

The next step in our reasoning is more difficult. If patriotism is the cause of war, how shall we treat the cause to destroy the result? Shall we attempt to abolish patriotism as Tolstoy would have us do, or shall we try to change its nature so that war as a natural result will be impossible? To answer these questions we must study patriotism from its very beginnings. We must ask: What is patriotism? Where did it come from? What place has it in our life?

Observe first the simplest cell of life, the amœba. We can watch it through the microscope. It is so tiny that it keeps house in a drop of water. It has neither emotion nor consciousness, in the human sense. It lives a while, and then splits in two to form other cells that have no connection with each other. Yet this infinitesimal bit of life has an instinct, the instinct to save itself. Watch an amœba as fire is brought near. It immediately moves away. Its every act is regulated by this one instinct, self-preservation.

Now let us leave the microscope and go outdoors. Over there is a bird in a tree top, feeding its young in a nest. Suppose that a fire should suddenly consume the tree. Would the mother bird fly away in safety? No, it would die on its nest in the effort to save its young. There is more than self-preservation here. The scientist will tell you that the instinct has expanded to include the preservation of the offspring.

And now turn to primitive man. The recent excavations in Sussex will give us a picture of him. He is awild, gorilla-like figure that creeps beneath the trees. He can leap with lightning force on his prey. He drapes his body with bearskins, and eats meat from fingers that end in claws. And yet with all his savage ferocity, this is more than an animal. This is a man. In his breast there stir the instincts of a man. In his life we see the vital element of patriotism, love. His little savage family is more precious to him than all the world. He will fight and die, not only for self-preservation but for those who to him are "brother and sister and mother." This is the stamp of the human. This is the potentially divine.

But as the storms of war beat about these little savage families, the sense of common danger welded them into one. Out of grim necessity friendship came, and friendship gave birth to patriotism. Loyalty and sacrifice were not limited to the family; men fought and died for their tribe.

And now let us turn the microscope upon ourselves. We would fight for our country. We say because we love our country. We call that feeling patriotism. It is more extended than the savage love of tribe; it gives loyalty to a great government and democratic principles. We speak of that feeling as divine, but it is terribly human. Its expression is the same harsh ferocity that inspired the life of the savage.

To-morrow America goes to war. In great black type we read the call for men, and a sense of common danger thrills us. In the evening by a street lamp's glare we watch a passionate agitator who points to a flag that we have learned to love. The tramp, tramp of passing regiments and the sound of martial music thrill us. We lay down our tool or pen and march to the front. And thencomes the first engagement. The air is blackened with rifle smoke; the roar of cannonry deafens us. Dazed, we crouch behind an earthwork while the enemy creeps through the smoke. Suddenly they charge. We fire, but they surge on through the smoke. They mount the earthwork. We leap together! Men scream hoarsely! Musket butts crash! Daggers plunge into quivering flesh! Divine feeling! Glorious patriotism!

The passing of this savage patriotism is inevitable. The whole course of nature is against it. The very history of development will tell you that. Loyalty has never been an immutable thing. It has been a ceaseless and irresistible growth from the individual to the family, to the tribe, to the nation. The time for a world-patriotism has come. Why should men limit their loyalty by a row of stones and trees that we call a boundary? Why are men patriots, anyway, except to save their privileges and their government? The primitive patriot had no choice but to fight. He was put down in a little plot of cleared ground hemmed in by mighty forests, and made to hew out a home in a vast world of enemies. But how far we have come from him! The twentieth-century world is a little world. Our earth is like an open book. We have cut through the jungle wastes of Africa; we have photographed the poles. We sell and buy things from Greenland and Java. In such a civilization war-patriotism has no place. It is no longer the only guide to self-preservation; it has become the most terrible instrument of self-destruction. And for just this reason war-patriotism must go. It runs counter to the whole trend of nature itself. It is diametrically opposed to the mission of patriotism in the world. Just as those littlesavage families joined hands in tribal loyalty, just as the scattered clans and tribes united under national government, so nations must clasp hands around the globe in a new spirit of "worldism" that shall make war impossible.

But we cannot gain a world-spirit by a sudden destruction of our patriotism. We will never usher in tranquillity with a crash. The nihilism of Tolstoy would plunge us into lawlessness and anarchy, for the chief element of patriotism we must keep. "What is that element?" you ask. It is the willingness of the individual to sacrifice his welfare for the welfare of the group. There we have the stem of the world-spirit of to-morrow. But the blossom will not burst forth in a night. It must come by an unfolding and a growth. We cannot climb to universal peace upon a golden ladder and cut the rungs beneath us. Evolution builds on the past. The final spirit of "worldism" will be a broadening and a deepening and a humanizing of the spirit of sacrifice which is the noblest element in our patriotism.

"But," you ask, "if the evolution of patriotism is inevitable, what have we to do with it? Why should we meddle with the course of nature?" We reply that the evolution must come through you. We are not "puppets jerked by unseen wires." "Consciousness," says Bergson, "is essentially free." Man the savage or man the philosopher—he alone can decide. Let him purify patriotism with Christianity and he has brotherhood; adulterate it with avarice and he has war. The evolution of patriotism is not a physical thing. Listen to Huxley, "Social progress means a checking of the cosmic process at every step and the substitution for it of the ethical process." The evolution of patriotism, then, is a moral thing, andmorality is man-made. We are men, but we can be supermen. We are patriots of a nation. We can be patriots of the world.

The evolution of patriotism is no theorist's dream. It is a palpable fact. The patriot of one age may be the scoundrel of the next. A turn of the kaleidoscope and Paul the convict trades places with Nero the Emperor. Who was the ideal ancient patriot? The statesman, Pericles? The thinker, Plato? No. The most efficient murderer, a Macedonian boy. "I must civilize," he says. So he starts into his neighbor's country with forty thousand fighters at his back. Does Persia yield its banner? No. Then crush it. Does Thebes resist? Then burn it to the ground. Do the women prate of freedom? Load them with slave chains. What? Do they still hold out? Then slaughter the swine. And as men watch him wading through seas of blood, riding roughshod over prostrate lives and dead hopes and shattered empires, the blind age cries out, "O godlike Alexander!"

"Godlike!" Oh, but there's new meaning in that word to-day. How much nobler a picture our modern patriot presents! Not waving the brand of destruction, not a king of murder will you find the great patriot of to-day. His thunderbolt of conquest was a host of righteousness. His empire was built in the hearts of men. In the teeming slums of the world's greatest city he lifted the standard of the Christ. Haggard children stretched out hands for bread. He fed them with his last crust. Thousands were dying in the city's filth. He pointed them to a more Beautiful City where pain should be no more. And when the body of William Booth was borne through the silent throngs of London streets, a million heads were bowedin reverence to this patriot of a purer day. In every hamlet of civilization some heart called him godlike.

Is not the trend of patriotism clear? Are not the seeds of a new world-loyalty already in our soil? The trumpet call to war can never rouse this newer patriotism. The summons "peace on earth and good will to men"—that is the future bugle call. And for us the task is clear. To take our destiny into our own hands, to throw off the prejudices of nationalism, to turn our faces resolutely to the future and strive for that summit of brotherhood and universal peace, that

"One far-off divine eventTo which the whole creation moves."

ByCalvert Magruder, St. John's College, Annapolis, MarylandFirst Prize Oration in the Eastern Group Contest, 1913, and Second Prize in the National Contest held at Mohonk Lake, May 15, 1913

Ladies and Gentlemen:

We are gathered here this evening in the confident expectation that a rule of reason will soon be established among the nations. It has been a hard, at times almost a discouraging, fight—for it is difficult to convince the world of its own insanity, and lovers of peace have often been tempted to cry in their despair, "How long, O Lord, how long?"

But there have always been men, with vision unaffected by martial glamour, who have foreseen in the logic of the world's history the inevitable end of war, and we have progressed now to a point where peace is the normal condition in international relationships. But it is an armed peace, founded on the false principle of suspicion and distrust, and we come now to consider the practical question of what the third Hague Conference can do to establish peace upon a firm and enduring foundation.

You will remember that the First Hague Conference established a so-called Permanent Court of Arbitration. It is not a definite, tangible tribunal, but merely a panel of a hundred or more men from whom the arbiters in each specific case may be selected; and therefore, though it is a great step in the right direction and though it has accomplished some good work, it has not commanded full confidence and recognition. To supplement this courtthe Conference of 1907 proposed a new organization—a Judicial Court of Arbitration, to be composed of seventeen judges of recognized legal authority, to sit for terms of twelve years, and to be competent to decide all cases. Here, then, is the nucleus of an easily accessible supreme court of the world, whose decisions would soon build up a new system of international law. Its composition, jurisdiction, and procedure are agreed upon. The vital problem, a mode of selecting the judges, remains unsettled. Evidently, then, the first great duty of the next Hague Conference is to put into operation this court, of which all the nations recognize the need and desirability.

Following logically the establishment of competent machinery for arbitration comes the second great duty of that conference—the passage of a convention binding the nations to resort to this court in all cases that fail of ordinary diplomatic settlement. The Judicial Court of Arbitration, if the nations are not bound to use it, would certainly fail of its purpose. A general treaty making arbitration obligatory is not too much to demand, for the Conference of 1907 declared itself unanimous "in recognizing the principle of compulsory arbitration." Separate arbitration treaties mounting into the hundreds have been negotiated between individual nations, but almost all contain that fatal reservation of questions of "honor and vital interests." Honor and vital interests—could any words be more vague and indefinite? Are these not the very cases which interested nations are least competent to decide? A complete answer to that silly reservation is found in our hundred years' peace with Great Britain. As John W. Foster, that keen student of our diplomatic history, has said, "The UnitedStates can have no future dispute with England more seriously involving the territorial integrity, the honor of the nation, its vital interests, or its independence, than those questions which have already been submitted to arbitration." Denmark has agreed with Italy and the Netherlands to arbitrate all questions that fail of diplomatic settlement, thus insuring perpetual peace between those nations. Here indeed is the pathway of true national honor.

Coincident with the establishment of the legal machinery for arbitration and the growth thereof, we would naturally have expected a cessation in the mad race for armament-supremacy. But the very reverse has happened, and to deal firmly with this contradictory situation is the third great duty of the next Hague Conference. Of what avail are our Courts of Arbitral Justice when this intolerable economic waste is permitted! To limit armaments was the avowed purpose of the First Hague Conference, but nothing was accomplished save the adoption of a neatly worded resolution that the limitation aforesaid is "highly desirable for the enlargement of the material and moral well-being of humanity." In 1907 the subject was again under discussion, the nations exhorted to a serious examination of the question—and there the matter rested. We have reached now an insufferable stage where effective action must be taken. Let us hear no more that deceptive catch phrase, "If you want peace prepare for war." When bad blood is likely to arise between individuals the very worst policy to pursue is to furnish them with weapons. And so it is with nations. Consider, if you will, the neck-and-neck race between Great Britain and the German Empire in the construction of battleships.What fool will call that preparation for war a guaranty of peace? We might be disposed to admit the sincerity of those who say we must arm and ever arm to maintain peace, except that they are too often men with professional and business interests at stake. In England there have been amazing revelations of this sinister condition—armament companies with peers, members of Parliament, newspaper owners, officers of the army and navy, as stockholders; enormous appropriations forced through Parliament by interested parties; periodic war scares in newspapers inspired by armament syndicates. Only recently we read how the great Krupp firm of Germany had been exposed in its practice of bribing officials to obtain valuable military information and furnishing French newspapers with war-scare articles calculated to induce Germany to increase her armament orders. In Russia and France they face a similar state of affairs. Here in the United States we are undoubtedly not free therefrom. And then there are the navy leagues in every country, playing upon the fears of the nations by startling tales of what the others are doing, and so on through an endless chain, manufacturing a demand for battleships in the name and under the guise of patriotism. We shrink from the contemplation of such greed and selfishness, and appeal for relief to the third Hague Conference.

We come now to a consideration of the fourth prime duty devolving upon that conference. Ocean commerce in war should be rendered inviolable. In effecting this we not only abolish a barbarous custom, but at the same time remove one of the chief causes of great navies. As long as the safety of the merchant marine is not guaranteed by international agreement, just solong will nations with commercial aspirations build enormous navies for their protection. It is true England has hitherto opposed this reform,—confident in her naval supremacy,—but she cannot again fly in the face of a general demand without too great a sacrifice of prestige.

Here, then, are four important problems of the peace movement, all difficult, but not impossible of solution when we remember that the Conference of 1907, in good faith, I believe, adopted the following declaration, "That, by working together during the past four months, the collected powers not only have learnt to understand one another and to draw close together, but have succeeded ... in evolving a very lofty conception of the common welfare of humanity." Whether these fine words breathe sincerity or hypocrisy the next Hague Conference has ample opportunity to prove.

And now, what shall we say of the position of America in this war against war? Her boundless resources; her amalgamation of men from all parts of the world into one people; her impregnable geographical situation; her embodiment of the three cardinal principles of world-union (federation, interstate free trade, interstate courts); the genius and ideals of our government—all give America a logical leadership. She can boast of the first peace society in the world, of a glorious record of arbitration, of a long list of the wisest international statesmen, of a most advanced position at The Hague upon the questions of ocean commerce, courts of justice, arbitration, limitation of armaments. But there is the darker view. The treaties negotiated by Secretary Knox with France and with England, agreeing to arbitrate every question that fails of diplomaticsettlement—those treaties were rejected by the United States Senate. There was a transcendent opportunity to lay the foundation for a speedy realization of peace universal, with France and England willing, yes, even anxious to coöperate—and America failed! Mr. Taft has shown that if the position of the Senate is accepted as international law, then we may as well bid farewell to any hopes of leadership in the peace movement, for our nation could then enter upon no general arbitration agreements because of the prerogative of the Senate in each specific case to accept or refuse arbitration.

It is at this point, Ladies and Gentlemen, that there is work for the humblest of us to do. In the intellectual field we can aid in the creation of an intelligent, forceful public opinion that will induce the Senate to recede from its fatal attitude, and that will resist a false, cheap patriotism which is relentlessly endeavoring to crush America 'neath the burden of militarism. Then in the moral field we can stimulate and foster a peaceful attitude, a sentiment for peace, in the hearts of our countrymen; and until this is accomplished there can be no peace universal, for, as Senator Root has said, "The questions at issue between disputing nations are nothing, the spirit that deals with them is everything." And finally, in the educational field, let us take heed that the men and women of our rising generation are taught the glorious pages of our arbitration history as well as they know the battles of our country. Let us take care that it is grounded into their minds and habits of thought from earliest years, that "peace hath her victories no less renowned than war."

In conclusion, let us not be deceived by that vain apology for war, that it is necessary to keep alive the heroic spirit and to stimulate manly courage. Despite the noble side in war, its bestial side predominates; its larger effect upon men is demoralizing. And if it be glorious to die for a cause, how much nobler to live and strive for an ideal, utilizing the talents that God gave us for its realization! The movement for peace is not one of weaklings and mollycoddles. It is championed by red-blooded men, daring to bear the ridicule of the thoughtless and to fight for the preconceptions of humanity. Peace has her heroes in daily life—miners, mariners, policemen, firemen, men of every station, displaying the nobility of their souls often unheralded and unsung. The venerable William T. Stead, bearing across the ocean his message of international good will, sacrificed his life on theTitanicthat others might live. He was a hero, yes, but a hero of peace.

It would be an insult to your intelligence to prove the self-evident proposition that war is uneconomic, unscientific, unchristian. The movement for its elimination, above all, is logical and practical, and should appeal to every man. Is it nothing to you? Yes, it is a great deal to you. Merely let your imaginations picture the day when the seventy per cent of our national revenue now sacrificed on the altar of folly is diverted to the arts of peace, to the amelioration of social conditions, to advancing the happiness of our people—at peace with all other peoples in the assurance of international law and love. Ladies and Gentlemen, if we but do our duty, the dawn of that great day will come in our generation!

ByVernon M. Welsh, Knox College, Galesburg, IllinoisFirst Prize Oration in the Western Group Contest, 1913, and Third Prize in the National Contest held at Mohonk Lake, May 15, 1913

The birth and rapid rise of the present movement for international peace are events of recent years. The nineteenth century found its welcome in the smoking cannon and crimsoned fields of Hohenlinden. At its close the first great peace conference of The Hague was in session. One hundred years ago Napoleon was sweeping across Europe in his terrible attempt to create an empire. To-day France, England, and America have agreed on treaties that declare for unbroken peace. Touched by the wand of progress, the Utopian ideal of yesterday has become the dominant political issue of to-day. It is pertinent, then, that we seek the true nature of this revolution. Is it borne on the crest of a popular impulse that will recede as rapidly as it has risen, or is it a permanent movement, the product of natural forces working through ordinary channels?

The nineteenth century represents a break with the past. Swept into the mighty current of transition, the habits and customs of a thousand years have disappeared. With the development of natural resources, the establishment and growth of the factory system, the use of means of rapid communication, nations have entered upon a new era. Commerce and industry have come to dominate thought and action and are transforming the very life of the world. Defying the rigorous climate of both the poles, trade has penetrated the frozen recesses of HudsonBay and made of the Falkland Islands a relay station in the progress of victorious industry. Nor is the equatorial heat more discouraging. The thick jungles of Africa have yielded their secrets, and the muddy waters of the Amazon are churned by propellers a thousand miles from the sea. International trade routes traverse the seas, connecting continent with continent. In forty years this commerce has increased from two billions to thirty billions. Giant corporations have ignored political boundaries, carried trade wherever profitable, and are supplying the varied demands of entire communities. Tariff walls, but lately effective barriers, are crumbling before the onslaught of trade. Nations are no longer independent. The wheat from Canada and the Dakotas feeds the mill workers of Sheffield and the nobility of Berlin. The failure of the Georgia cotton crop halts the looms of England and raises the cost of living throughout Europe. Nations can no longer exist as self-sufficient economic units. Never before were they so mutually interdependent. Never before has the welfare and security of one state depended upon the enterprise and diligence of another. And the movement for international peace is the chance offspring of these new social forces, at once a protest and a warning against the wrecking of modern economic structures by the ruthless hand of war.

Commerce, the most important of these new forces, flourishes unprejudiced by armaments and military prestige. In the open competition of the world's markets stronger powers meet and suffer from the rivalry of states that have no military standing. Relative to population, Norway has a carrying trade three times as greatas England's. With her million trained warriors Germany is beaten by the merchants of Holland. The flag of little Denmark flies at more mastheads than does the Stars and Stripes. Where then is the commercial advantage supposed to attend superior military strength?

But it is to prevent the seizure of its commerce by others that nations must empty their treasuries to keep ironclads afloat. Yet what could be gained by attempted confiscation? If Germany annihilated England's navy to-morrow, how would she profit? Commerce is a process of exchange, the continuance and promotion of which is dependent upon the degree of mutual profit. Commercial gain is not a consequent of military success. It is since England seized the gold fields, diamond mines, and fertile plateaus of lower Africa that British securities have dropped twenty points. In 1871 Germany humbled and humiliated France almost beyond toleration, yet her share of the world's commerce has not been augmented thereby. So would it be with England. True, Germany might commit some depredations and hinder the passage of trade, but what would be her motive? How could she gain? Even if the British Isles were depopulated, it is doubtful whether Germany would benefit. For by what miracle would Germany be able to develop the facilities, the shipyards, mills, factories, foundries, mines and machinery, to supply the trade which the foremost of commercial nations has been generations in building up? Germany's banner might wave over the Bank of England, her excise boats police the Thames and the Clyde, yet she would behold the trade of a conquered province going to foreign nations. Trade does not follow the flag. Undisturbed by political changes or militaryreverses, it flows in constantly widening channels wherever productive fields are found.

And in the waging of war, do we reckon the direct cost to commerce? The commercial relations of the entire world are disturbed. Prolonged conflict is accompanied by the closing of the bank and the factory, the dismantling of the shop and mill, and the lengthening of the bread line in every city and town. In what state of prosperity and happiness might not France have been had Napoleon never lived? With half a century gone, our own country is still suffering from the devastation of the Civil War. Our commerce with South America is scarcely beyond the point it had reached before our week-end tiff with Spain. Yet there are those who prate of national honor and of war as insuring prosperity. From the leader of a newborn national party we hear that without a periodic war America would become effeminate and weak, her aggressive commercial life timid and corrupt, and within a few brief years the great Republic would sink to a fourth-rate power. Up, brave Americans, and man the guns! Awake, sons of freedom, and sweep the seas! Fourteen years without a war; our beloved land is ruined. You men of the factory and mill, you men of property and business, you producers of the nation's wealth, forward into the carnage; burn the homes of thrift and industry, for commerce will be enriched thereby; ravage the fields and despoil the cities, for this will insure vigorous national life; impoverish happy peoples, spread famine and pestilence through fertile valleys, mark the sites of contented villages with smoldering ruins, defy your Christian God, and kindle the fires of hell in human breasts; commit violence,treachery, rapine, ay, murder,—for the eternal glory of the Stars and Stripes. Yet commerce and industry—the glittering prizes which every nation covets when it builds a dreadnought or enlarges its army—demand that the creative forces of peace supplant the destructive wastes of war.

To-day the financial relationships of nations are inextricably entangled. The big banks in the capitals of the world are in communication with each other every second of the day. During the American crisis in 1907 the bank rate in England went up to seven per cent, forcing many British concerns to suspend operations. Because of the Balkan War the bank rate in Berlin, Paris, and Vienna is the highest in twenty years, and European securities have depreciated over six billion dollars. Foreign investments are raising insuperable barriers to war. Should the French bombard Hamburg to-day they would destroy the property of Frenchmen. Let Emperor William capture London, loot the Bank of England, and he will return to find German industry paralyzed, the banks closed, and a panic sweeping the land. Let English regiments again move to invade the United States, English warships draw up in battle line to attack our seaports, and four billions of the earnings of the English people would bar the way. To the victor of the present the spoils of war are valueless. Japan, victor over the great Russian Empire, staggers under a colossal debt. The Italian government hears rumbles of discontent, because the cost of winning a victory has been too great. What better proof do we need that war is profitless, that it means financial suicide? It has been transformed from a gainful occupation intoeconomic folly, and war will cease because the price is becoming prohibitive.

In this movement for peace, capital's strongest ally is her most active enemy. Raised to a position of independence and power by the Industrial Revolution, labor is wielding an effective influence. The complexity of modern business has aroused workingmen in every country to a common interest and sympathy. The International Congress of Trade Unions, representing twenty countries and over ten million men, has declared for universal disarmament. Just last month eighty-five thousand coal miners in Illinois resolved that if the United States declared war on a foreign power, they would call a general strike.

And why not? Why should the workingmen of one country offer themselves as targets for those of another? Why should the workers of Germany be taxed to support a war against England, Germany's best market? Can the rice growers of Japan profit by killing Americans to whom they sell their produce? War means suffering and want, and the laborer has come to know it. He is cold to the sight of its flaunting flags and the sound of its grand, wild music, for he sees the larder bare, funds exhausted, and hunger at the door. He refuses to sacrifice his body and the welfare of his family upon the altar of Mars. No longer can kings and emperors satisfy their grasping ambitions. Armed by the ballot, the masses are to-day supreme. Never again will the cruel hand of tyranny press to their lips the poisoned cup of death. Their sway is absolute. The destinies of nations are in their keeping. The decree has gone forth that war must cease.

Born of these greater movements, a host of influences bring nearer the dawn of peace. The express and the wireless have supplanted the oxcart and the courier. Chicago and Boston are closer to-day than New York and Albany a century ago. Within the hour of their occurrence events that happen in Paris are published in Chicago and St. Louis. Political boundaries are fading before larger interests. Every railroad train crossing the frontier, every ship plying the seas, every article of commerce, every exchange of business, every cable conveying news from distant lands—all these are potent factors in the cause of international peace. Add to these the conciliating influence of foreign investments, the telephone and telegraph, travel, education, democracy, religion, and you have marshaled a host for peace whose clarion trumpets shall never sound retreat. Casting aside the prejudice of ages, modern industrialism flings around the world the economic bonds against which the forces of militarism are powerless.

Here, then, in the world-wide operations of commerce and industry is theassurance of peace. The skeptic may scoff and the cynic point to Mexico and the Balkans, but the Industrial Revolution has produced a multitude of influences that are knitting the nations into an indissoluble unity. Men are beginning to realize the integrity of mankind, and a world-consciousness is arising. Kindness and justice—yesterday but community ideals—are extending their sway throughout the earth. Even while bayonets are bared in conflict and cannon thunder against hostile camps, the magic of our civilization is weaving bonds of union that cannot be broken. Peace, not war, is the true grandeur of nations; love, not hate, is theimmutable law of God; and so surely as governments and kings are powerless to divide when home and factory would bind, some not too distant day will find the battle flags all furled, the sword's arbitrament abandoned, and the world at peace.

ByFrancis J. Lyons, University of Texas, Austin, Texas, representing the Southern GroupFirst Prize Oration in the National Contest held at Mohonk Lake, May 28, 1914

Time was when war was beneficial. Historians have justified the spread of knowledge by the sword. At the world's awakening, it was well that the new thought should be diffused even at the sacrifice of human blood. It was justified because there was no other means. We have to cast our imagination back through the centuries and realize that then there were no railroads, no telegraph, no newspapers; that man was bound by narrow limits; and the elemental processes of the world were undiscovered. We do not criticize Alexander for conquering the eastern perils, for he carried in his phalanxes the spirit of new-discovered thought. We do not denounce Rome for piercing the unknown realms with her legions, for she was the mother of a new belief. But this was at the dawn of history, when erudition was in its struggling embryo, and the physical was the better part of man. Man went forth to battle as a religion.

The world grew partly wise, and man preached the gospel of brotherhood. But it did not last. The changing of the peoples smoldered the fires of rising intelligence, and the world rolled back again in darkness—a darkness long and black. Centuries passed, and a new light came, slowly but courageously. Man blinkingly came forth, dazed and unsteady. The light grew, and man grew with it; but rooted deep in his heart was the love of war of his ancestors. In a different spirit, it istrue; but it was there, and he went forth to battle not because it was religion, but because it was brave.

The world rolled on; war grew; it developed with the state; it became an art; was studied—and now our cycle turns. It faces us as a custom backed up by the centuries—deep-rooted, a consumer that yields no returns and, what with our modern appliances, a terror to the hearts of all the world. Men fought in the early ages because they thought it was just; men fought in the Middle Ages because they considered it brave; men of our modern age will banish war because it is a fallacy.

Do you know that to maintain our so-called prestige we spend seventy per cent of our national income? Think of it! Seventy per cent to maintain our present status and to prepare for the future! Think of that awful drain; think, if applied in other channels, what good could be done! We are proud of our battleshipTexas. She is a noble war dog; yet do you realize that if we had applied the money spent on her in our own state we could have had one gigantic paved highway twice the distance from El Paso to Galveston? We could have had two hundred high schools, representing $75,000 each. We could have raised our institutions of higher learning to a level with any of the East or North. Fifteen millions gone for a floating war machine which in twenty years will be a piece of rusted, useless iron; fifteen millions for a sailing dragon who, each time one of her big guns speaks, wastes the equivalent of a four-year college education for some youth—$1700—for a single shot. Our war dogs sail the seas; our soldiers parade our forts; and we look on and raise a joyous hubbub as thenations of the world rush madly on, wasting themselves in the race for military supremacy.

Have you ever considered yourself transported to some celestial height, and there, from the regions of the infinite, allowed to view a battle on earth? How foolish it must seem, these pygmies coming forth to make war. See them as they charge and wound and kill! See brother slay brother! See the wounded left to die! Hear the cries of distress, and picture the grief that follows all! Men battling to conquer; men assuming the prerogative of a god—how foolish, yet how serious! And these artificial lines that men call boundaries, how punctiliously they are guarded! "Take but a hundred feet, and we shall war with thee." How foolish this too must seem when viewed from above—that we should carry on war over even a slight infraction on any imaginary, mathematical line.

We cherish the thought that the youth of our land are being taught self-restraint. It is ever impressed upon them that there are courts of justice for the settlement of controversies. Law and order have become stock phrases, dinned into their ears at every turn. The man who would settle his difficulty by trying the physical metal of his adversary is of the past. By the new order he is taboo as a savage. Individual self-restraint rings out in our vocabulary as nationally descriptive. The babe at the mother's knee learns first the virtue of it; the child at school is tutored to it soundly; the man in life is lectured with it regularly. Brotherhood! Love! Self-restraint!

But what of the self-restraint of the nation? In the teaching of the individual, is it not odd and inconsistentthat we forget the teaching of the unit? We paint the inner rooms of our national character with colors bright and pleasing, but the exterior, though weathering the heavier storms, is forgotten. If the child be taught that individuals should arbitrate their differences, can he not learn that the individual nations are subject to the same rule? If arbitration is best for each man, surely it must be best for all. If the child be taught that self-restraint is the boasted characteristic of the model American, should he not learn that the model American nation should be self-restraining? Let us learn this lesson, and surely we will never war. Herein shall we find the solution of this great problem. We can preach about peace and write pretty orations, but if we are to impress it upon the hearts of the world, we must teach it, and in a systematic manner. It is not to be learned in a day. It is the labor of a generation and more. It must be a fully developed characteristic. Man is learning self-development; now we must turn to the bigger ideals—national restraint, national development, international brotherhood.

Do you say this is idealism—visionary? On the contrary, it is thoroughly practicable. The only way to attain world-peace is for the individual citizen to think peace, to teach peace, and to act in accordance with such thoughts and teachings. Just as public opinion causes war, so only through cultivated public opinion can we hope for peace. I do not say to sink our battleships and turn free our army. I do not argue that we should quit guarding ourselves and throw ourselves open to the world; but what I seek is that we should turn our faces with bright hope to the future, eager to assist in theabolition of all that tends to war, eager to assist in the only proper way—the enlightenment of the world-nations.

The call comes naturally to America, the land of new belief; America, the New World of Opportunity, as Emerson calls it; the land cut off from the conventional past; a land that has taken world-leadership in the march of a single century. To America, where problems are studied and fallacies dethroned, the birthplace and the abiding home of democracy; to America, the Christian, the civilized! What will the answer be? Already we can hear the faint responses, as yet vague and indistinct, the drowned murmurings of the wiser tongues. These must grow into a national anthem whose echo will challenge the powers of the world and startle them into the consciousness of the new brotherhood. We will answer:

"Yes, we have learned the lessons of the centuries—that war is a fallacy, and armed peace its ill-sprung child; that man is no longer savage; that with enlightened mind he has controlled his warring instinct; that human love is a mightier power than war; and that we are one in the brotherhood of the Master.

"Let us stand before the nations, clad in simple honesty, panoplied in elemental justice; let us appeal to the common conscience of the world; let us say to the war-made powers, there is a way out, and we will lead. We will help you police the sea; we will give our constabulary to a quota of peace, but we are through. No great standing army, no more leviathan battleships. We trust to what we boast of as the highest attainment of the age, the innate justice of civilized humanity."

To such a national summons, how will Texas respond? Facing the Mexican boundary for eight hundred miles,Texas is to-day peculiarly the guardian of our nation. The situation calls not for agitation and jingoism, bit for rare patience, sanity, and self-control. Through troubled waters our chosen captain is guiding the Ship of State. It is no time for mutiny, but rather a time for obedience.

In this critical hour let every loyal citizen say with a contemporary poet:

In this grave hour—God help keep the President!To him all Lincoln's tenderness be lent,The grave, sweet nature of the man that sawMost power in peace and let no claptrap aweHis high-poised duty from its primal planOf rule supreme for the whole good of man.In this grave hour—Lord, give him all the light,And us the faith that peace is more than might,That settled nations have high uses stillTo curb the hasty, regulate the ill,And without bloodshed from the darkest hourMake manifest high reason's nobler power.

ByLouis Broido, University of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, representing the North Atlantic GroupSecond Prize Oration in the National Contest held at Mohonk Lake, May 28, 1914

Since the dawn of history the teachers, thinkers, and prophets of mankind have prayed and labored for the abolition of war. In the process of the centuries, their hope has become the aspiration of the mass of men. Growing slowly, as do all movements for righteousness, the cause of peace first claimed the attention of the world in the year 1899, when Nicholas of Russia called the nations together to discuss ways and means for the arbitration of international differences and for the abolition of war. From that day on, the movement for peace has progressed by leaps and bounds, and to-day it has reached the highest point of its development.

Already nations have signed treaties to arbitrate many of their differences. Holland, Denmark, Argentina, and Chile have agreed to arbitrate every dispute. But these nations are not potent enough in world affairs for their action to have an international influence. It remains for the great powers like England, France, Germany, and the United States to agree to submit every difficulty to arbitration, and thus take the step that will result in the practical abolition of war.

If one would find the reasons that thus far have kept the great powers from agreeing to submitalldifferences to arbitration, his search need not be long nor difficult. The Peace Conference of 1907 reports that the objections to international arbitration have dwindled to four.Of these objections the one commonly considered of most weight is this: "We will not submit to arbitration questions involving our national honor." Even so recently as the spring of 1912, our own Senate refused to give its assent to President Taft's proposed treaties with France and England to arbitrate all differences, and refused on the ground that "we cannot agree to arbitrate questions involving our national honor." This is the statement that you and I as workers for peace are constantly called upon to refute.

Let us, therefore, consider what honor is. For centuries honor was maintained and justice determined among men by a strong arm and a skillfully used weapon. It mattered not that often the guilty won and the dishonorable succeeded. Death was the arbiter, honor was appeased, and men were satisfied. But with the growth of civilization there slowly came to man the consciousness that honor can be maintained only by use of reason and justice administered only in the light of truth. Then private settlement of quarrels practically ceased; trial by combat was abolished; and men learned that real honor lies in the graceful and manly acceptance of decisions rendered by impartial judges.

As men have risen to higher ideals of honor in their relations with one another, so nations have risen to a higher standard in international affairs. Centuries ago tyrants ruled and waged war on any pretext; now before rulers rush to arms, they stop to count the cost. Nations once thought it honorable to use poisoned bullets and similar means of destruction; a growing humanitarianism has compelled them to abandon such practices. At one time captives were killed outright; there was ahigher conception of honor when they were forced into slavery; now the quickening sense of universal sympathy compels belligerent nations to treat prisoners of war humanely and to exchange them at the close of the conflict. At one time neutrals were not protected; now their rights are generally recognized. A few hundred years ago arbitration was almost unknown; in the last century more than six hundred cases were settled by peaceful means.

During the last quarter of a century we have caught a glimpse of a new national honor. It is the belief that battle and bloodshed, except for the immediate defense of hearth and home, is a blot on the 'scutcheon of any nation. It is the creed of modern men who rise in their majesty and say: "We will not stain our country's honor with the bloodshed of war. God-given life is too dear. The forces of vice, evil, and disease are challenging us to marshal our strength and give them battle. There is too much good waiting to be done, too much suffering waiting to be appeased, for us to waste the life-blood of our fathers and sons on the field of useless battle. Here do we stand. We believe we are right. With faith in our belief we throw ourselves upon the altar of truth. Let heaven-born justice decide." Here is honor unsmirched, untainted! Here is pride unhumbled! Here is patriotism that is all-embracing, that makes us so zealous for real honor that we turn from the horrors of war to combat the evils that lie at our very doors.

We know that faith in such national honor will abolish war. We know, too, that men will have war only so long as they want war. If this be true, then, just as soon as you and I, in whose hands the final decision for oragainst war must ever rest, express through the force of an irresistible public opinion the doctrine that our conception of national honor demands the arbitration of every dispute, just so soon will our legislators free themselves from financial dictators and liberate the country from the dominance of a false conception of national honor.

Do you say this ideal is impractical? History proves that questions of the utmost importance can be peacefully settled without the loss of honor. The Casa Blanca dispute between France and Germany, the Venezuela question, the North Atlantic Fisheries case, the Alabama claims—these are proof indisputable that questions of honor may be successfully arbitrated. "Does not this magnificent achievement," says Carl Schurz of the Alabama settlement, "form one of the most glorious pages of the common history of England and America? Truly, the two great nations that accomplished this need not be afraid of unadjustable questions of honor in the future."

In the face of such splendid examples, how meaningless is the doctrine of the enemies of peace, "We will not arbitrate questions of national honor. We will decide for ourselves what is right and for that right we will stand, even if this course plunges us into the maelstrom of war. We will not allow our country to be dishonored by any other." Well has Andrew Carnegie expressed the modern view: "Our country cannot be dishonored by any other country, or by all the powers combined. It is impossible. All honor wounds are self-inflicted. We alone can dishonor ourselves or our country. One sure way of doing so is to insist upon the unlawful and unjust demand that we sit as judges in our own case,instead of agreeing to abide by the decision of a court or a tribunal. We are told that this is the stand of a weakling, that progress demands the fighting spirit. We, too, demand the fighting spirit; but we condemn the military spirit. We are told that strong men fight for honor. We answer with Mrs. Mead: 'Justice and honor are larger words than peace, and if fighting would enable us to get justice and maintain honor, I would fight! But it is not that way!'" For it is impossible to maintain honor by recourse to arms; right may fall before might, and, viewed in the light of its awful cost, even victory is defeat. In the words of Nicholas Murray Butler: "To argue that a nation's honor must be defended by the blood of its citizens, if need be, is quite meaningless, for any nation, though profoundly right in its contention, might be defeated at the hands of a superior force exerted in behalf of an unjust and unrighteous cause. What becomes of national honor then?"

Too long have we been fighting windmills; we must struggle with ourselves; we must conquer the passions that have blinded our reason. We have been enrolled in the army of thoughtlessness; the time has come to enroll in the army of God. We have followed a false ideal of honor; we must disillusion ourselves and the world. If men declare that the preservation of courage and manliness demand that we fight, let us lead them to the fight, not against each other, but against all that is unrighteous and undesirable in our national life. Men still cling to an ancient conception of national honor; let us convince them that there is a newer and higher conception. Men still declare that peace is the dream of the poet and prophet; let us prove by historical example thatquestions, even of national honor, can be happily settled by arbitration. If men despair, let us remind them that to-day, as never before, the mass of men are slowly and surely working out God's plan for this great cause.

The day of triumph is not far distant. Already the moving finger of Time paints on the wide horizon, in the roseate tints of the dawn, the picture of Peace—Peace, the victory of victories, beside which Marathon and Gettysburg pale into insignificance; victory without the strains of martial music, unaccompanied by the sob of widowed and orphaned; victory on God's battlefield in humanity's war on war.

ByRalph D. Lucas, Knox College, Galesburg, Illinois, representing the Central GroupThird Prize Oration in the National Contest held at Mohonk Lake, May 28, 1914

Nationalism is a precious product of the centuries. The world has paid a tremendous price to widen the political unit until its boundaries include continents. It has been an equally difficult task to weld the spirit of diverse peoples into a homogeneous whole. And the story of this development constitutes a heritage not soon to be given up. The tales of victory and defeat are held even more dear to a united people than life itself. Rightly will any nation jealously defy him who dares advance to plunder its possessions. And it is well that men do not wish to surrender it upon slight provocation. That has been a good diplomacy that sought to protect the nation by war. By the extension of political unity peoples gain moral and physical strength. Thrift becomes more common and moral courage greater when a people strike forward with common aims. And in proportion as the nation as a whole enjoys these advantages and opportunities, the individual widens his horizon in peaceful association with fellow men and receives a benefit beyond computation.

But, good as nationalism has been in the past, a gradual change seems to be overtaking the world's politics. National diplomacy hesitates where a century ago it was firm. Forces which once drove the nations apart seem now to be drawing them together. The discord ofdisputes seems to be disappearing in the harmony of coöperation. It is no longer possible to determine easily what a nation's interests really are. And it is of the forces that are bringing about this change in the policies of nations, of this new nationalism and its bearing upon the peace movement, that I wish to speak.

Within the last two centuries economic forces have worked a mighty revolution. Continents have been converted into communities. The prosperity of our eastern industries controls the activities of the West, and a disturbance from any section throws a tremor over all. Tribal barter has developed into a world-wide commerce until the most distant nation may easily acquire the products of another. Steel rails weave a web of commercialism among the peoples, and the cable welds them in a mighty network which, responsive to every flash of news, brings all the nations into a mutuality of interests. So interdependent are the nations and so vital are their relations that a single fluctuation in the most distant market finds a response in our own. A slight disorder in Wall Street strains the whole financial world. And thus through intercourse in commerce, industry, the press, Christian missions, and scholastic research a system has been developed that holds no place for the selfish policy of exploiting backward peoples. We no longer consider the advance of alien peoples in wealth and prosperity as a menace to our own. There is being developed a strong international public opinion which realizes that anything that destroys the well-being of one member is the concern of all.

In the light of these facts, future world-politicscanhave no place for the settlement of disputes by force.A declaration of war by one of the large powers to-day would be more terrible than it has ever been in the past. The man of business, of education, of philanthropy, of civic advancement cannot reasonably advocate a policy that would ruin business, stagnate education, increase poverty, and turn progress over to the ravages of manslaughter. Industry cannot continue when the shoulder that should turn the wheels of industry grows weary beneath the weight of the musket. Education cannot proceed when libraries and lecture halls are deserted for the camp and fortress. A Tolstoy with all his power of vivid presentation does not overdraw the picture. The moral fiber and physical strength of a people must forever afterward bear their scars. A struggling people can never rid themselves of the evil effects of the conflict, although they may rejoice in the valor of their heroes. Nations cannot afford to become the theaters of carnage and bloodshed and the rendezvous of commercial and moral pirates and civic grafters.

Why, then, do nations throw away their strength in the building and equipping of armies and navies? The advocates of militarism tell us that we need a navy to protect our commerce. Possibly it is true that under the present system of international law this is somewhat excusable; for although private property on land is exempt from confiscation and the old forms of privateering have long ago been abolished by an agreement of the powers, yet the policy does not apply to maritime warfare. Enemy's goods in enemy's ships are still subject to seizure. But while this argument does hold for the present, the condition could easily be remedied. Because a man with foreign capital operates ships insteadof factories, why is there any special reason for exposing his property to depredation? In the light of common sense such a policy seems absurd. And it should be one of the first aims of our diplomats to eliminate all possibility of this licensed robbery, for as long as it exists there will always be the cry for extravagant expenditure in order to preserve international peace.

But even if we should not need a navy to protect our commerce, again the opponents of the policy of settling international disputes by arbitration say that we need armies and navies to preserve our honor. They tell us that there are certain questions which cannot be submitted to any tribunal; that a nation must reserve the right to submit only those questions it sees fit. Surrender this right, and prestige and self-respect are gone and we become a nation of "mollycoddles" whose patriotism has no virile qualities. It is true that the independence and security of each nation is essential to international life. It is self-governing nations, not subjugated ones, that make possible a strong international life. But the converse is equally true. An international life made up of independent, coöperating, and mutually helpful nations is the best security by which national life can be guaranteed. Those who say that questions of national honor cannot be submitted to a tribunal have a wrong conception of the essence of national life. Love of country means more than a mere willingness to serve as a target for the enemy's guns. We would not deduct one iota from the respect and honor due those who have served the nation on the field of battle. But what a service they might have rendered if they had been spared that life to live serving their fellow men and contributing tothe vigor of the race! None of us will give up his firm resolve to defend his own country with all his strength. But theirs is a cheap patriotism which depends for its expression upon the thrilling note of fife and drum. The great test of patriotism is the everyday purpose to deal justly with one's neighbor. Let him who would be a patriot and serve the nation put his life into the work close at hand, and, with a civic temper and moral courage that can grip the scourge, rid our social life of its damning influences. This is the spirit of true national honor. This it is that makes of a nation a real nation. The call to arms is but another signal of the defeat of the underlying principles of civilization.

Only slowly will any large number of the people accept these new conceptions. But there are already hopeful signs. The growing sentiment is rapidly crystallizing. The developing code of international equity as expressed by the establishment of such an institution as the Hague Court is a step in the right direction. The peaceful settlement of the Venezuelan boundary dispute was an honor to the nations involved. And the work of the International Commission of Inquiry in the Dogger Bank episode between Russia and England is significant of the trend. Again, a modern innovation was wrought when the International Conference in 1906 settled the conflicting interests of Germany, France, and Spain in Morocco. Within the last century the powers ratified over two hundred treaties, each providing for the peaceful settlement by tribunals of specified international disputes. It is true that most peace treaties have dealt almost exclusively with legal questions. The nations have hesitated to submit all international differences toa court of arbitration. But the spirit for arbitral settlement is widening. And this spirit is not for a mere avoidance of war, but seeks the substitution of a better method than war for determining justice between nations. Each nation has its own individual problems to deal with, and in this respect all cannot proceed according to set rules. The movement does not mean the extinction and obliteration of nationality and national rights. The individual has not been minimized because he consents to submit his differences with his fellow men to a court for settlement. And this must be the ultimate attitude of nations whose honor we have a right to guard jealously.

What, then, shall be our program? Whatever attitude is to be adopted, most people agree that the day of universal peace is far in the future. The Balkans and Mexico remind us of the difficulty lying before the coming generations. But the numerous peace societies whose purpose it is to circulate authentic documents, that the great mass of citizens may be brought into sympathetic touch through accurate information, are doing much for the cause. The erection of the Hague Court gives something lasting and tangible to work from. And, above all, the nations will rise to higher standards principally by adopting the ideals of the individual. As man has risen above his barbaric ideals, so will the nations throw their military expenditures into the coffers of public welfare as they come more and more to judge their successes, not by victories in war but by achievements in education, commerce, industry, and artizanship. And, proceeding with such aims, the established international court must be the medium through which all differences will be settled. We shall discover that our internalpolicy of dealing with the individual can be more easily applied to international relations than was at first supposed. And having reached this point in the evolution of international peace, there must be added to the international court a world-wide police force. As the system develops and our prejudices are abandoned, a method of policing must stand as an enforcer of international law. Until then there is little hope that military expenditures will radically diminish, for we cannot reasonably abolish our present methods unless we have something secure to substitute.

Perhaps such a system will not abolish the utter possibility of war. Only the future can tell us what heights of success the policy will reach. There are those of us who have high hopes because we believe in the good sense of the American people and of our great contemporaries. By the past we are made confident of the future. But if the goal is to be reached, it is for us as individual citizens to contribute our influence toward developing the attitude of peace among our fellow men. For our international welfare and for the honor of the newest of great nations, may we in this issue throw our influence, as a united people, on the side of a higher international morality! May the united peoples of the world abolish the prejudices of misconceptions and, drawn together by common interests, resolve that the priceless heritage of centuries shall not be imperiled by war! And thus over a warring humanity the breaking day of peace shall be hastened, at whose high noon there shall be heard not the clashing of arms but the increasing hum of prosperity under the sway of the new and better national life.

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