Finally, a still higher call is upon us: we must somehow rise to the

point of placing humanity above the nation. It is true, "Charity begins

at home," certainly justice should. One should educate one's own

children, before worrying over the children of the neighborhood; clean

up one's own town, before troubling about the city further away. Often

the whole is helped best by serving the part; but it is with national

patriotism as it is with family affection. The latter is a lovely

quality and the source of much that is best in the world; but when

family affection is an instrument for gaining special privilege at the

expense of the good of society, a means of attaining debauching luxury

and selfish aggrandisement, it is an abomination. The man who prays

God's blessing on himself, his wife and his children, and nobody else,

is a mean man, and he never gets blessed--not from God. Similarly, the

man who seeks the interest of his own nation, against the welfare of

mankind, who prays God's blessing only on his own people, is equally a

mean man, and his prayer, also, is never answered from the Most High.

The world has advanced too far for the spirit of a narrow nationalism.

The recrudescence of such a spirit is one of the sad consequences of

this world War. Only in a spirit of international brotherhood, in

dedication to the welfare of humanity, can democracy go towards its

goal.

These are the obligations following upon the challenge of democracy we

have proclaimed to the nations.

VIII

THE GOSPEL AND THE SUPERSTITION OF NON-RESISTANCE

The first condition of fulfilling the responsibilities imposed upon us

by the challenge of our democracy is, now and hereafter, readiness and

willingness for self-respecting self-defense, defense of our liberties

and of the principles and ideals for which we stand. There is much

nonsense talked about non-resistance to evil. It is a lovely thing in

certain high places of the moral life. It was well that Socrates

remained in the common criminal prison in Athens and drank the hemlock

poison; but nine times out of ten it would have been better to run away,

as he had an opportunity to do. It was good that Jesus healed the ear of

the servant of the high priest,--and good that St. Peter cut it off.

In other words, acts of non-resistance and self-sacrifice are fine

flowers of the moral life; but you cannot have flowers unless their

roots are below ground, otherwise they quickly wither. Thus, to have

sound value, these acts of non-resistance and self-sacrifice must rest

on a solid foundation of self-affirmation and resistance to evil.

As with the individual, so with the nation: there come high moments in a

nation's life, when a strong people might resist and deliberately

chooses not to. As an illustration, take our Mexican problem. The

announcement that under no circumstances would we intervene, may have

led to misunderstanding. Our purpose to let the Mexican people work out

their own problem may have been taken to mean that we would not justly

protect ourselves, with consequent encouragement to border raiding.

Nevertheless, if there has been any error in handling the situation, it

has been on the better side--on the side of patience, generosity,

long-suffering, giving the other fellow another chance, and another and

another, even though he does not deserve them. Now that is not the side

on which human nature usually errs. The common temptation is to

selfishness and unjust aggression. Since that is the case, if we cannot

strike the just balance, it is better to push too far on the other side

and avoid the common mistake.

Suppose, after the War, Japan, alone or in conjunction with one or

another European power, closes the door to China: one can imagine

circumstances where we, with the right to insist that the door be kept

open, and perhaps, by that time, something of the strength to enforce

that right, might deliberately say, "No, we will not resist." Not that,

with our present situation, such action is desirable, but that one can

imagine conditions arising where it might be the higher choice.

Let me repeat that, for the nation as with the individual, these high

moments must rest on something else. They are the high mountain peaks

of the moral life; but detached mountain peaks are impossible,--except

as a mirage. They must rest upon the granite foundation of the hills

and plateaus below. So these high virtues of non-resistance, magnanimity

and self-sacrifice must always rest upon the granite foundation of the

masculine virtues of self-affirmation, endurance, heroism, strong

conflict with evil. It takes strength to make magnanimity and

self-sacrifice possible, if their lesson is not lost. A weak man

cannot be magnanimous, since his generosity is mistaken for servile

cowardice. After all, the best time to forgive your enemy, for his good

and yours, is not when he has his foot on your neck: he is apt to

misunderstand and think you are afraid. It is often better to wait

until you can get on your feet and face him, man to man, and then if you

can forgive him, it is so much the better for you, for him and for all

concerned.

Thus there are two opposite lines of error in the moral life. The

philosophy of the one is given by Nietzsche, while Tolstoy, in certain

extremes of his teaching, represents the other. Nietzsche, I suppose,

should be regarded as a symptom, rather than a cause of anything

important; but the ancestors of Nietzsche were Goethe and Ibsen, with

their splendid gospel of self-realization. Nietzsche, on the contrary,

with his contempt for the morality of Christianity as the morality of

slaves and weaklings, with his eulogy of the blond brute striding over

forgotten multitudes of his weaker fellows to a stultifying isolation

apart--Nietzsche is self-realization in the mad-house. It has always

seemed to me not without significance that his own life ended there.

On the other hand, when Tolstoy responded to an inquirer that, if he saw

a child being attacked by a brutal ruffian, he would not use force to

intervene and protect the child: that, too, is non-resistance fit for

the insane asylum. One of these is just as far from sane, balanced human

morality as the other.

It is a terrible thing to suffer injustice; it is far worse to

perpetrate it. If one had to choose between being victim or tyrant, one

would always choose to be victim: it is safer for the moral life and

there is more recovery afterward. If, however, it is better to suffer

injustice than to perpetrate it, better than either is to resist it,

fight it and, if possible, overthrow it.

It has been said so many times by extreme pacifists that even sane human

beings sometimes take it for granted, that "force never accomplished

anything permanent in human history." It is false, and the reasoning by

which it is supported involves the most sophistical of fallacies. All

depends on who uses the force and the purpose for which it is used. The

force employed by tyranny and injustice accomplishes nothing permanent

in history. Why? Because tyranny and injustice are in their very nature

transient, they are opposed to the moral order of the universe and, in

the end, must pass. On the other hand, the force employed on the part of

liberty and justice has attained most of the ends of civilization we

cherish to-day. The force of the million of mercenaries, collected

through Asia and Africa by Darius and Xerxes, to overwhelm a few Greek

cities, accomplished nothing permanent in history; but the force of the

ten thousand Athenians who fought at Marathon and of the other thousands

at Salamis, saved democracy for Europe and made possible the

civilization of the Occident. The force employed by King Louis of

France to support a tottering throne and continue the exploitation of

the people by an idle and selfish aristocratic caste, accomplished

nothing permanent in history; but the force of those Frenchmen who

marched upon Paris, singing the Marseillaise, made possible the freedom

and culture of the last hundred years. The force employed by King

George of England, to wring taxes without representation from reluctant

colonies, accomplished nothing permanent in history, but the force

which, at Bunker Hill and Concord Bridge, "fired the shot heard round

the world," achieved the liberty and democracy of the American

continent.

It may be freely admitted that all use of force is a confession of

failure to find a better way. If you use force in the education of a

child, it is such a confession of failure. So is it if force is used in

controlling defectives and criminals, or in adjusting the relations of

the nations; but note that the failure may be one for which the

individual parent, teacher, society, state or nation is in no degree

responsible. Force is a tragic weapon--and the ultimate one.

IX

PREPAREDNESS FOR SELF-DEFENSE

Since force is still the weapon of international justice, readiness and

willingness to use it for defense, when necessary, is then the first

condition of fulfilling the aims and serving the causes for which

America stands. In other words, since the relations of the nations are

still so largely those of individuals under the conditions of frontier

life, as with the honest man on the frontier, so for the

self-respecting, peace-loving nation to-day, it is well to carry a gun

and know how to shoot.

Carrying a gun is a dangerous practice, for two reasons: it may go off

in your pocket; you may get drunk and shoot when you ought not. Those

are the only two rational arguments against national preparation for

defense, in the present state of the world. Let us see. The gun may go

off in your pocket: that is, if a strong armament for defense is built

up, there is always danger that it may be used internally, against the

people, unjustly. That, indeed, has been one of the curses of Europe

for a thousand years. It is a grave danger, but recognizing it is partly

forestalling it; moreover, we would better face that danger than one far

worse. So with the other menace: you may get drunk and shoot when you

ought not. Nations get drunk: they get drunk with pride, arrogance,

aggressive ambition, revenge, even with panic terror, and so shoot when

they should not. This, also, is a grave danger; but here, as well,

recognizing it is part way forestalling it, and this danger, too, we

would better face than one far more terrible. Moreover, it is armament

for the gratification of aggressive ambition, and under the control of

the arbitrary authority of a despotic individual or group, that tends to

initiate war, not armament solely to defend the liberties of a people.

Thus, under the conditions cited, it is well to be armed and prepared.

If a wolf is at large, if a mad dog is loose, if a madman is abroad with

an ax, it is the part of wisdom to have an adequate weapon and be

prepared to use it. If the Athenians had not resisted the hordes of

Asia, what would have been the history of Europe? If the French had not

resisted tyranny and injustice in the Revolution, what would have been

the civilization of the last hundred years? If the English colonists

had not resisted taxation without representation, what would be the

present status of America? If the artisan groups had not united and

fought economic exploitation, what would be their life to-day? If

Belgium had not resisted Germany, what would be the future of democracy

in Europe? Thus, now and after the War, the need is for all necessary

armament for self-respecting self-defense and not an atom to gratify

aggressive ambition. This does not mean that, once involved in war, the

military tactics of democracy should be merely defensive. As has often

and wisely been said, in war the best defense is a swift and hard

attack.

It is widely argued, however, since our aim is peace and a world-court

of justice to settle the disputes among the nations, making general

disarmament possible, should not one great nation, fortunately free from

the quarrels of Europe, occupying the major portion of a continent, its

shores washed by two great oceans, with peaceful friendship on the north

and weak anarchy on the south--should not such a nation take the lead,

disarm and set an example to mankind? It is a beautiful dream! Would

that those who really believe in non-resistance to evil would be

logical, and apply it to internal as well as external policy. What is a

police force? It is a body of men, trained, employed and paid to use

force in resisting evil. If you wish to try out non-resistance, why not

let some city apply it? Let Chicago do it: abolish its police force and

set the example to the rest of the benighted cities of the country.

What would happen? As long as there are criminals in all cities of the

land, how they would flock to that fat pasturage. What devastation of

property, destruction of life, injury to innocent women and children!

Until the best men of Chicago would get together, form a vigilance

committee, shoot some of the criminals, hang others, drive the rest out;

and Chicago would get back to law and order, with courts of justice and

a regular police body, composed of men trained, employed and paid to use

force in resisting evil.

The example of Canada and the United States is cited, and a noble

example it is: three thousand and more miles of international boundary,

with never a shining gun or bristling fortress on the entire frontier.

A glorious example, prophetic of what is coming all over the world,

perhaps more quickly than we dare hope to-day; but what made it

possible? Agreement in advance, and that at a time when one of the

parties was too weak to be feared. Canada is getting strong: she has at

present four hundred thousand trained men at the front or ready to go.

Before the War closes she will have over a half million. Now suppose

Canada fortified: we would be compelled to, there would be no other way.

Thus one nation cannot disarm while the others are strongly armed, and

among them are those whose autocratic rulers and imperialistic castes

are watching for signs of weakness in order to perpetrate international

claim-jumping.

It is true that, on the frontier, in the early days, there were

individuals who went about unarmed among the gun men, did it

successfully, and some of them died peacefully in their beds: Christian

ministers--sky-pilots, they were called. Please note, however, that the

sky-pilot never had any money. He had no claims to be jumped.

We are not sky-pilots--far from it. As to money: the wealth of the

world has been flowing into our coffers in a golden stream, to the

embarrassment of our financial institutions, to the exaltation of the

cost of living to such a point that, with more money than we ever

dreamed of having, we find it more difficult to buy enough to eat and

wear. As for claims to be jumped: they are on every hand: Panama Canal,

Hawaiian Islands, Philippine Islands, ports of New York and San

Francisco, vast reaches of unprotected coast. No, we are not

sky-pilots, we cannot claim exemption on that ground.

Suppose, after the War, we attempted to disarm, without the protection

of a world court and international police, while the other nations

retained war armament. They, the victors and perhaps the defeated,

would possess a great army and navy, manned with seasoned veterans, and

be burdened with an intolerable debt; for the War has gone too far for

any one to be able to pay adequate indemnity. We, rich, young,

heedless, sure that no one on earth could ever whip us, chiefly because

no one worth while has ever seriously tried: suppose we were completely

disarmed. It would require only a little meddling with Mexico or

Brazil, and we should have to give up the Monroe Doctrine or fight.

Well, perhaps we shall give it up: it has even been suggested in the

halls of Congress that we should--to the shame of the suggester, be it

said. People do not understand the Monroe Doctrine: they talk of it as

if it were a law. It is in no sense a law, but is merely a rather

arrogant expression of our desires. We said to the other nations: "We

desire that none of you henceforth shall fence in any part of our front

or back yard, or the front or back yard of any of our neighbors,

dwelling on the North and South American continents." That is the

Monroe Doctrine, and that is all that it is: an expression of our

wishes. All very well if others choose to respect them, but suppose

some one does not? Perhaps, as stated, we may abandon the Monroe

Doctrine: that is the easiest way, and the easiest way, for a nation or

an individual, is usually the way of damnation. Even so, suppose the

nation in question to say, "My national aspirations demand the Panama

Canal, the Philippine Islands, or Long Island and the Port of New York."

Why not? The Atlantic Ocean is only a mill-pond. It is not half so wide

as Lake Erie was fifty years ago, in relation to modern means of

transportation and communication. People say, "Do we want to give up

our traditional isolation?" They are too late in asking the question:

that isolation is irrecoverably gone. That should be now evident even

to people dwelling in fatuously fancied security between the Alleghenies

and the Rockies. We are inevitably drawn into relation with the rest of

mankind. The question is no longer, "Shall we take a part in world

problems?", but "What part shall we take?"

The point is, that if, under the circumstances cited, any one wished to

do so, we could quickly be driven to such a condition of abject

humiliation that we should be compelled to fight. Now suppose,

disarmed, we should enter the conflict utterly unprepared? The result

would be, hundreds of thousands of young men, going out bravely in

obedience to an ideal--untrained and half equipped--to be butchered, a

humiliating peace, and an indemnity of many billions to be groaned under

for fifty years.

On the other hand, if we were adequately armed for defense, there would

be much less temptation to any one to trouble us; and if we were

compelled to fight, would it not be better to fight reasonably prepared?

There is a story, going the rounds of the press, about the bandit, Jesse

James: telling how, on one occasion, he went to a lonely farm house to

commandeer a meal. Entering, he found one woman, a widow, alone and

weeping bitterly. He asked her what was the matter, and she replied

that, in one hour, the landlord was coming, and if she did not have her

mortgage money, she would lose her little farm and home and be out in

the world, shelterless. The heart of the bandit was touched. He gave

her the money to pay off the mortgage, hid in the brush and held up the

landlord on the way back.

Need the moral be pointed? We have been getting the mortgage money.

During the first years of the War it rolled in, an ever-increasing

golden stream, until we held a mortgage on numerous European nations.

We have the mortgage money, but _beware of the way back!_

Thus the agitation, in one nation, for disarmament, unpreparedness and a

patched up peace, while the other nations are armed and embittered, not

only renders the situation of the one people critically perilous, but

actually cripples its power to serve the cause of world peace and

humanity. If only the peace-at-any-price people had to pay the price,

one would be willing to wait and see what happened; but they never pay

it, they take to cover. It is those hundreds of thousands of splendid

young men, going out blithely in obedience to duty, to be butchered, it

is the millions of women and children, who cannot escape from a

devastated area, who pay that price.

Every people in the past that turned to money and mercenaries for

defense has gone down. No people ever survived that was unable and

unwilling to fight for its liberties and spend, if necessary, the last

drop of its blood for the principles it believed.

X

RECONSTRUCTION FROM THE WAR

We have seen how impossible it is to forecast the new world that will

follow the War, we know merely that it will be utterly new.

Nevertheless, the great tendencies already at work we can partly discern

and recognize something of what they promise. It is well to try to see

them, that we may be not too unready to welcome the opportunity and

accept the burden of the world that is being born in pain.

Peace and prosperity produce a peculiar type of conservatism. People

are then relatively free in action and expression, things are going well

with them, and they are instinctively inclined to let well enough alone.

Thus in thought they tend to a conservative inertia.

On the other hand, in periods of great strain and suffering, as in war

time, thought is stimulated, all ordinary views are broken down and the

most radical notions are widely disseminated and even taken for granted

by those who, shortly before, would have been scandalized by them.

Action and certain phases of free speech are, in such a period, much

more widely restrained by authority. There is a swift and strong

development of social control, urged by necessity.

Thus, in war time, there is the curious paradox of ever widening

radicalism in thought, with constantly decreasing freedom in action and

expression. When the discrepancy becomes too great, you have the

explosion--Revolution. This cause hastened and made more extreme the

Russian Revolution, which had been simmering for a century. It has not

yet appeared in Germany because of the forty years of successful work in

drilling the mind of the German people to march in goose-step; yet the

increasing signs of questioning the infallibility of the existing regime

and system in Germany give evidence that there, too, the conflict is at

work.

With ourselves, the opposition appears, as yet, only in minor degree.

Nevertheless, it is here. On the one hand, are the registration,

conscription and espionage measures, the effort to control news, the

governmental supervision of food supplies, transportation, production

and corporation earnings, the war taxes. On the other hand, thought is

so stimulated that everything is questioned: our political system, our

social institutions--marriage, the family, education. As some one says,

"Nothing is radical now." We probably shall escape a sudden revolution,

but the conflict must produce profound readjustment in every aspect of

our life; for thought and action must come measurably together, since

they are related as soul and body.

There are singular eddies in the main current both ways. For instance,

the exigencies and sufferings of war produce a reaction toward narrower,

orthodox forms of religion and a harsher spirit of nationalism; while in

fields of action apart from the struggle, freedom and even license may

increase, as in sex-relations. Nevertheless these cross-currents, while

they may obscure, do not alter the main tendencies, which move swiftly

and increasingly toward the essential conflict.

Even before our actual entrance into the War, its profound influence

upon both our thinking and our conduct and institutions was evident.

Now that we are in the conflict that influence is multiplied. We are

aroused to new seriousness of thought. The frivolity and selfish

pleasure-seeking that have marked our life for recent decades are

decreasing. We may reasonably hope that the literature of superficial

cleverness and smart cynicism, which has been in vogue for the last

period, will have had its day, that the perpetrators of such literature

will be, measurably speaking, without audience at the conclusion of the

War.

The philosophy of complacency, at least, will be at an end, and the

world will face with new earnestness the problem of life. This

generation will be tired, perhaps exhausted, by the titanic struggle;

but youth comes on, fresh and eager, with exhaustless vital energy, and

the generations to come will take the heritage and work out the new

philosophy. As Nature quickly and quietly covers the worst scars we

make in her breast, so Man has a power of recovery, beyond all that we

could dream. It is to that we must look, across the time of demoniac

destruction.

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