CHAPTER XXIII

PATRIOTISM AND WORLD-PEACE

THE goal of personal morality is reached with the adoption of that

mode of life that leads to the stable and lasting happiness of the

individual. Such a happiness necessarily presupposes relations of

kindness and cooperation with those other persons that form the

immediate environment. But it is quite compatible with a neglect of

those wider aspects of duty that we call public morality. The Stoics,

the anchorites, some communities of monks, and many a well-to-do

recluse today, are examples of those who have found a selfish happiness

for themselves without taking any hand in forwarding the general

welfare. Yet the greatest total good is not to be attained in any such

way; if man is to win in his inexorable war with a hostile and grudging

environment, men must march EN MASSE, must work for ends that lie

far beyond their personal satisfactions, for the welfare of the State and

posterity. It is these larger, public duties that we must now consider.

And it is here that our greatest stress must be laid; for these

obligations are too easily overlooked, and toward them the contemporary

conscience needs most sharply to be aroused. The first great public

problem, historically, is that of war. And theoretically it may well

come first, since the attainment of peace is the prerequisite of all

other social advance. While a nation's energies are absorbed in war,

nothing, or nearly nothing else can be done. So we turn to a

consideration of war; and first, of that emotion, patriotism, whose

training and redirection must underlie the movement toward universal

peace.

What is the meaning and value of patriotism?

Matthew Arnold began his famous American address on Numbers by

quoting Dr. Johnson's saying, "Patriotism is the last refuge of a

scoundrel." We must admit that to certain forms of it the gibe is

pertinent. But in its essence, patriotism is that most useful of

human possessions, an emotion that turns a duty into a joy. It is

necessary for men, however burdensome they may find the obligation,

to be loyal to the interests of the State of which they are members.

But the patriot feels it noburden; he loves his country, and serves

her willingly, as his privilege and glad desire. To be conscious of

belonging to a social group, whose interests are regarded as one's

own, to mourn its disasters and rejoice in its successes, and give

one's hands and brains without reluctance, when needed, to its

service- that is patriotism. For the individual, its value is that

it widens his sympathies, gives him new interests, stimulates his

ambition, warms his heart with a sense of brotherhood in common

hopes and fears; the "man without a country" is, as Dr. Bale's story

graphically depicted, like a man without a home; the "citizens of

the world," who voluntarily expatriate themselves, miss much of the

tang of life that is tasted by him who keeps his local attachments

and national loyalty. For the State, its value is that it welds men

together, softens their civil strife, lifts them above petty

jealousies, rouses them to maintain the common weal against all

dangers, external and internal. Especially in view of our hybrid

population is it necessary to stimulate patriotism, by the

celebration of national anniversaries, the salutation of the flag in

the public schools, and whatever other means help to enlist the

emotions on the side of civic consciousness. But while seeking to

foster patriotism, for its great potentialities of good, we must

guard diligently against its lapse into forms that are really

harmful to the community which it avowedly serves. Like every other

great emotion, it needs to be controlled, developed along the lines

of greatest usefulness, directed into proper channels. How should

patriotism be directed and qualified?

(1) Patriotism must be rationalized, so as to be an enthusiasm for

the really great and admirable phases of the national life. Instead

of a pride in the prowess of army and navy, of yachts or athletes,

it should become a pride in national efficiency and health, in the

national art, literature, statesmanship, and educational system, in

the beauty of public buildings and the standards of public manners

and morals. It should think not so much of defending by force the

national "honor," as of maintaining standards of honor that shall be

worth defending. There may, indeed, still be occasions when we can

learn the truth of the old Roman verse, Dulce et decorum est pro patria

mori; but the newer patriotism consists not so much in willingness

to die as in willingness to live, for one's country-to take the trouble

to study conditions, to vote, and to work for the improvement of

conditions and the invigorating of the national life. The real

anti-patriots are not the peace-men, but the selfish and unscrupulous

money-makers, the idle rich, the dissolute, the ill-mannered, all those

who put private interest or passion above the public weal, help to

weaken national strength and solidarity, and bring our country's name

into disrepute.

(2) Patriotism must not merge into conceit and blind

self-satisfaction. The superior, patronizing air of many Americans,

their insufferable boasting and dogmatism, does more, perhaps, to

prejudice foreigners against us than any other thing. We must teach

international good manners, a becoming modesty, a generosity toward

the prejudices of others, and a recognition of our own shortcomings.

The blind patriotism that will not confess to any fault, that shouts,

"Our country, right or wrong," leads in the direction of arrogance,

wrongdoing, and dishonor. We must be free to criticize our own

government; we must have no false notions about national "honor" such

as were once held concerning personal "honor" in the days of dueling.

We shall doubtless be in the wrong sometimes; we must welcome

enlightenment and try to learn the better way. Apologizing is sometimes

nobler than bluster; and he is no true lover of his country who seeks

to condone, and so perpetuate, her errors.

(3) Patriotism must not imply a hatred of, or desire to hurt, other

countries. The sight of one great civilization seeking to injure

another is the shame of humanity. For in the end our interests are

the same; we should not profit by Germany's loss any more than

Connecticut would gain by injury to Vermont. Jingoism, contempt of

other peoples, and purely selfish diplomacy, are sinful outgrowths

of patriotism. We must learn to be fair and good-tempered, to appreciate

the admirable in other nations, to thrill to their ideals, and banish

all suspicious, sneering, or hypercritical attitudes toward them. It

is a pity that the mass of our people get their conceptions of foreign

peoples and rulers so largely through newspaper cartoons and caricatures,

which emphasize and exaggerate their points of difference and inferiority

instead of revealing their power and excellence. It is a stupid

provinciality that conceives a distaste for foreigners because of their

alien manners and to us uncouth language, their different dress and

habits. As a matter of fact, they feel as superior to us as we to them,

and on the whole, perhaps, with as good a right. No one of the nations

but has some noble ideals and achievements to its credit; if we do

not appreciate them, we are thereby proved to be in need of what they

have to give. And underneath these usually superficial differences,

we are all just men and women, with the same loves and hatreds, the

same needs, the same weaknesses and repentances and aspirations. If

we realized our common humanity, we should try to treat them as we

should wish to be treated by them; the Golden Rule, the Christian spirit,

the method of reason and kindness, is as applicable to international

as to inter-personal relations. We should not be too sensitive to the

trivial breaches of manners, the intemperate words and selfish acts

of neighbor-nations, but make allowances and preserve our

good-fellowship, as we do in our personal life. We should beware of

letting our own patriotism lead us into like misconduct. Above all,

we must refuse to let it lead us into the lust of conquest; we must

respect the rights and liberties of other peoples, keep strictly to

our treaty obligations, honor less the patriots who have inflamed

national hatreds and led us to battle against other peoples than those

who have wrought for their country's righteousness and true honor,

and let it be our pride to stand for international comity and good

will. A question that may properly be discussed here is whether it

is permissible to shift patriotism from one country to another. Such

a change of loyalty is, in times of war, called treason, and naturally

evokes the resentment of the deserted side. Even as impartial judges,

we are properly suspicious of such action, as denoting a vacillating

nature, devoid of the true spirit of loyalty, or as indicative of a

selfishness that follows its own personal advantage. And so far as

that suspicion is well founded, we must condemn the traitor. But

certainly, if a man experiences a sincere change of conviction, he

should not be required to continue to serve the side that he now feels

to be in the wrong; every man must be free to follow his conscience,

even if it leads him to disavow his own earlier allegiance. Suppose

Benedict Arnold to have developed a sincere conviction that the American

revolutionists were in the wrong, and that the true welfare of both

America and Britain lay in their continued union. In such a case he

must, as a conscientious man, have transferred his allegiance to the

Tory side. So a man who has been a worker for the saloon interests,

who should become convinced of the anti-social influence of the liquor

trade, would do right to come over to the anti- saloon side and work

against his former associates. The really difficult question lies

rather here: may such a man use for the advantage of the cause he now

serves the knowledge he gained, the secrets entrusted to him, the power

he won, as a worker for the opposite cause? If Benedict Arnold was

a sincere convert to the British cause, did he do right in trying to

deliver West Point into their hands? Or are we right in execrating

him for his attempted breach of trust? May the former saloon-worker

use his inside knowledge of the saloon men's plans, and his familiarity

with the business, to help the cause to which he has transferred his

allegiance? The two cases may be closely parallel; but each will

probably be decided by most people according to the side upon which

they stand. An impartial judgment will, perhaps, condemn all breaches

of faith, all use of delegated power for ends contrary to those for

which the power was delegated, including secrets deliberately

entrusted, but will not condemn the use for the new cause of knowledge

gained by the individual's own observation, or influence won through

the power of his own personality.

What have been the benefits of war?

War has not been an unmitigated evil. In fairness we must note the

following points:

(1) In spite of its danger, and its pain, war has been a great

excitement and joy to men. Tennyson is doubtless true to life in making

Ulysses exclaim "All times I have enjoyed Greatly, have suffered

greatly. . . And drunk delight of battle with my peers, Far on the

ringing plains of windy Troy. How dull it is to pause, to make an end,

As though to breathe were life!"

In the Iliad, indeed, we read: "With everything man is satiated, sleep,

sweet singing, and the joyous dance; of all these man gets sooner tired

than of war." In primitive times, and even, though decreasingly, in

modern times, the cause of war has lain not merely in the ends to be

attained thereby, but in the sheer love of war for its own sake-the

quickened heartbeats, the sense of power and daring and achievement,

the joy in martial music and uniforms, in the rhythmic footsteps of

marching men, in the awakened thrill of patriotism, the love of effort

and sacrifice for a cherished cause.

To some extent this primitive lure of war still persists. But,

fortunately, the glory and excitement of hand-to-hand conflict, the

picturesque valor and visible achievement of earlier battles, are now

gone. The soldier is but a cog in a machine, usually at a considerable

distance from his enemy. He does not know whether his shot has hit

or not; if he is wounded it is by an invisible hand. All the strain

and fatigue and pain of war remain, but little of its glory and delight.

Moreover, whatever normal satisfaction has been found in war can be

had, as we shall presently note, in other ways- in all sorts of

generous rivalries and useful as well as exciting endeavors that are

open to the modern man.

(2) War has necessitated discipline, organization, courage, self-

sacrifice, and has thus been a great stimulus to virtues which to some

extent have carried over into other fields. It has kept men from

sinking into inertia or mere pleasure seeking, fostered energy and

hardihood, quieted civil strife, taught the necessity of union and

justice at home. The patriotism awakened by struggle against a common

enemy has often persisted when the conflict was over, given birth to

art and history, and many an act of devotion to the State.

But national solidarity and a regime of justice within the State are

now our stable possession, while the hardier and heroic virtues can

be awakened in other and less disastrous ways. War has ceased to have

its former usefulness as a spur to personal and social morality.

(3) Wars of self-defense have often been necessary, to preserve goods

that would have been lost by conquest; as when the Greeks at Marathon

repelled the barbaric hordes of Asia, or when Charles Martel and the

Franks checked the advance of the Saracens at Tours. Offensive wars,

even, may have been necessary to wipe out evils, such as slavery or

the oppression of neighboring peoples. But in modern times the moral

justification of war on such grounds has usually been a flimsy pretext;

and certainly the occasion for legitimate warfare is becoming steadily

rarer. Nearly always the good aimed at could have been attained without

the evils of war. If the American colonies had had a little more

patience, they could have won the liberty they craved without war and

separation from the mother country-as Canada and Australia have done.

If the United States had had a little more patience and tact and

diplomacy, it is probable that Cuba could have been saved from the

intolerable oppression of Spain without war. Now that the moral

pressure of the world's opinion is becoming so strong, and the Hague

tribunal stands ready to adjust difficulties, there is seldom excuse

for recourse to brute strength. The real cause of war lies far less

often in the moral demand that prefers righteousness to peace than

in the touchiness, selfishness, and resentments of nations, or their

desire for glory and conquest.

(4) War has, directly or indirectly, been the means of spreading the

blessings of civilization. Alexander's campaigns brought Greek culture

to the Eastern world, the Roman conquests civilized the West, the

famous Corniche Road was built by Napoleon to get his troops into

Italy, the trans-Siberian railway, the subsidized steamship lines of

modern nations, the Panama Canal, owe their existence primarily to

the fear of war. But today all lands are open to peaceful penetration;

missionaries and traders do more to civilize than armies. And if the

building of certain roads and railways and canals might have been

somewhat postponed in an era of stable peace, many more material

improvements, actually more imperative if less spectacular, would

certainly have been carried out with the vast sums of money saved from

war expenditures. Whatever good ends, then, war may have served in

the past, it is now superfluous, a mere survival of savagery, a relic

of our barbaric past, a clear injury to man, in ways which we shall

next consider.

What are the evils of war?

(1) We need not dwell on the physical and mental suffering caused by

war; General Sherman's famous declaration, "War is hell!" sums the

matter up. Agonizing wounds, pitiless disease, the permanent crippling,

enfeeblement, or death of vigorous men in the prime of life, the

anguish of wives and sweethearts, the loneliness of widows, the lack

of care for orphans-it is impossible for those who have not lived through

a great war to realize the horror of it, the cruel pain suffered by

those on the field, the torturing suspense of those left behind. It

is, indeed, a sad commentary on man's wisdom that, with all the distress

that inevitably inheres in human life, he should have voluntarily

brought upon himself still greater suffering and premature death.

(2) But the moral harm of war is no less conspicuous than the physical.

It fosters cruelty, callousness, contempt of life; it kills sympathy

and the gentler virtues; it coarsens and leads almost inevitably to

sensuality. After a war there is always a marked increase in crime

and sexual vice; ex-soldiers are restless, and find it hard to settle

down to a normal life. There is a permanent coarsening of fiber. Even

the maintenance of armies in time of peace is a great moral danger.

The unnatural barrack-life, the requisite postponement of marriage,

the opportunity for physical and moral contagion, make military posts

commonly sources of moral contamination. Prostitution flourishes and

illegitimacy increases where soldiers are quartered; the army is a

bad school of morals.

Add to this indictment the stimulus to national hatreds caused by war,

the inflaming of resentments and checking of international good will.

Frenchmen still nourish a bitter animosity against the Germans for

the possession of Alsace and the occupation of Paris. The instinctive

racial antipathies of the Balkan peoples have been immeasurably

deepened by the recent wars on the peninsula. The eventual brotherhood

of man is indefinitely postponed by every war and by every rumor of

war.

The interest in war also takes attention and effort away from the

remedying of social and moral evils; it is useless to attempt any moral

campaign while a war is on. Jane Addams tells us, in Twenty Years at

Hull House, that when she visited England in 1896 she found it full

of social enthusiasm, scientific research, scholarship, and public

spirit; while on a second visit, in 1900, all enthusiasm and energy

seemed to be absorbed by the Boer War, leaving little for humanitarian

undertakings.

(3) A less obvious, but even more lasting, evil is that caused by the

loss of the best blood of a nation. In general, the strongest and best

men go to the field; the weaklings and cowards are left to produce

the next generation. The inevitable result is racial degeneration.

The decline of the Greek and Roman civilizations was doubtless in large

part due to the continual killing off of the best stocks, until the

earlier and nobler breed of men almost ceased to exist. The effect

of modern war is the exact opposite of that of primitive war, where

all the men had to fight, and the strongest or bravest or swiftest

survived; strength and valor and speed avail nothing against modern

projectiles, and it is the stay-at-homes who are selected for survival,

in general the weakest and least worthy. War is the greatest of

dysgenic forces, and undoes the effect of a hundred eugenic laws.

(4) The vast and increasing expense of war is a very serious matter

for the moralist, because it means a drain of the resources that might

otherwise be utilized for the advance of civilization. The cost of

a modern war goes at least into the hundreds of millions of dollars,

and any great war would cost billions. Every shot from a modern sixteen

inch gun costs approximately a thousand dollars! Add to this direct

cost the indirect costs of war, not reckoned in the usual figures-the

loss of the time and work of the hundreds of thousands of able-bodied

men, the economic loss of their illness and death, the destruction

of buildings, bridges, railways, etc, the obstruction of commerce,

the paralysis of industry and agriculture, the ravages and looting

of armies, the maintenance of hospitals and nurses, and then, finally,

the money given in pensions.[Footnote: The recent Balkan war is reckoned

to have cost nearly half a million men killed or permanently disabled,

a billion and a half dollars of direct] Add further the cost of the

expenditure, besides many billions of indirect expense. The colossal

European war just beginning as these pages go to press bids fair to

cost immeasurably more aintenance of armies upon a peace-footing-the

feeding and clothing of the men, the building and maintenance of barracks

and forts, of battleships and torpedo boats, of guns and ammunition,

automobiles, aeroplanes, and the increasing list of expensive modern

military appurtenances. Europe spends nearly two billion dollars a year

in times of peace on its armies and navies-money enough to build four

or five Panama canals annually. The entire merchant marine of the world

is worth but three billion dollars. More than this, over four million

strong young men are kept under arms in Europe, a million more workers

are engaged in making ships, weapons, gunpowder, military stores. Over

a million horses are kept for army use. This money and these men, if

used in the true interests of humanity, could quickly provide adequate

and comfortable housing for every European, adequate schooling,

clothing, and food for every one. Here is the great criminal waste

of our times. In America our waste is less flagrant, but it is steadily

increasing. We throw away money enough in these fratricidal

preparations to cover the country with excellent roads in short order,

or give every child a high school education.

In a way, however, the rapidly growing cost of war and preparation

for war is to be welcomed. For it is this that is creating, more than

all our moral propaganda, a rising sentiment against war, and will

presently make it impossible. When the German militarists became

excited over the Morocco incident in 1911, a financial panic ensued,

credit was withdrawn, pockets were touched, and a great protest arose

which did much to quench the jingo spirit. Japan was induced to sign

her treaty of peace with Russia because her money was giving out.

Turkey was unable, in the winter of 1913-14, to renew war with Greece

for the Aegean Islands, because she could not raise a loan till she

promised peace. The growing international financial network, and the

revolt of the taxpayers against the incessant draining of their

pocketbooks, promise a change for the better in European militarism

before very long.

What can we do to hasten world-peace?

There are powerful forces, which without our conscious effort are

making for the abolition of war: its growing cost; the extension of

mutual knowledge, through the newspapers and magazines, through travel,

through exchange professorships and Rhodes scholarships and all

international associations; the growing sensitiveness to suffering;

the spread of eugenic ideals; and the increasing interest in worldwide

social, moral, and material problems. But the epoch of final peace

for man can be greatly accelerated by means which we may now note.

(1) We may stimulate counter-enthusiasms to take the place of the

passion for war. After all, the great war of mankind is the war against

pain, disease, poverty, and sin; the real heroes are not those who

squander human strength and courage in fighting one another, but those

who fight for man against his eternal foes. The war of man against

man is dissension in the ranks. We must make it seem more glorious

to men to enlist in these humanitarian campaigns than in the miserable

civil wars that impede our common triumphs. [Footnote: Cf. Perry, Moral

Economy, p. 32; "War between man and man is an obsolescent form of

heroism. . . . The general battle of life, the first and last battle,

is still on; and it has that in it of danger and resistance, of

comradeship and of triumph, that can stir the blood." And cf. President

Eliot's fine eulogy of Dr. Lazear, who died of yellow fever after

voluntarily undergoing inoculation by a mosquito, in the attempt to

learn how to stay the disease: " With more than the courage and]

Further, we should awaken interest in innocent devotion of the soldier,

he risked and lost his life to show how a fearful pestilence is

communicated and how its ravages may be prevented."] excitements and

rivalries-in sports, in industrial competition, in missionary

enterprise. A world's series in baseball, or an intercollegiate

football season, can work off the restless energies of many thousands

who in earlier days would have lusted for war. The revival of the

Olympic games was definitely planned as a substitute for war. And men

must have not only excitements and rivalries, but real difficulties

and dangers-something to try their courage and endurance and train

them in hardihood. For this we have exploration and mountaineering,

the prosecution of difficult engineering undertakings, the attacking

of corruption and the achievement of political and social reforms.

[Footnote: Cf. W. James, "The Moral Equivalent of War" (in Memories

and Studies), p. 287: "We must make new energies and hardihood's continue

the manliness to which the military mind so faithfully clings. Martial

virtues must be the enduring cement, intrepidity, contempt of softness,

surrender of private interest, obedience to command, must still remain

the rock upon which states are built. The martial type of character

can be bred without war. The only thing needed henceforward is

to inflame the civic temper as past history has inflamed the military

temper."]

(2) We may spread popular knowledge of the evils of war. It is

incredible that this barbarous method of deciding disputes could be

continued if the people generally had a lively realization of its cost

in pain, money, and degradation. Already many societies exist for the

diffusion of literature on the matter, [Footnote: And of course for

other work in the direction of peace. The oldest such organization

in this country is the American Peace Society. The Association for

International Conciliation, founded in Paris by Baron d' Estournelles

de Constant, in 1899, has branches now in all the important countries.

Lately we have Mr. Carnegie's endowments for international peace]

conscientious editors of journals and newspapers use their columns

for peace propaganda, public schools teach children the evils of war,

ministers use their pulpits to denounce it. All this, effort must be

pushed in greater degree until a general public sentiment is aroused

that will insist on the peaceful settlement of all international

difficulties.

(3) Indirectly, too, education and association can make war more and

more unlikely. We can create a greater knowledge of and sympathy with

other nations. We can to considerable extent train out pugnacity, quick

temper, resentfulness, and train in sensitiveness to suffering,

sympathy, breadth of view. All such moral progress helps in the war

against war. We can encourage the interchange of professors and

scientists between countries, increase the number of professional and

industrial international organizations. The International Socialist

party, with its threatened weapon of the general strike against war,

may actually prove to be- whether we like it or not the most efficient

of all forces. The International Federation of Students (Corda ratres),

founded at Turin in 1898, with its branches in all civilized countries,

may be of great use. A censorship of the press to exclude all

jingoistic and inflammatory utterances may at times be necessary. It

is even questionable whether uniforms and martial music ought not to

be banished for a while, until the habit of peaceful settlement becomes

fixed.

(4) Politically, we must make our public policies so high and unselfish

that other nations cannot justly take offense. Most wars are provoked

by national greed or selfishness, lack of manners, or the breaking

of treaty obligations. The United States, it must be confessed, has

to some extent lost the respect and trust of other nations for its

high- handed methods and disregard of treaties. Congress is allowed

to modify or abrogate any treaty without consultation with the other

nation involved; and we have what many critics deem acts of grave

dishonor upon our record. [Footnote: For example, the recent abrogation

of our long-standing treaty with Russia, without her consent, which

has forfeited her friendship; or what seemed to many the violation

of our treaty-promise to England by Congress in its exemption, now

repealed, of American coastwise shipping from canal tolls. It would

be well to engrave over the entrance to the Capitol the Psalmist's

words: "He that sweareth to his own hurt and changeth not."] ways we

have needlessly offended and insulted other nations. The voter must

watch the conduct of parties and work to elect men who, refraining

from provoking other nations, will aim for peace.

(5) Practical steps in the direction of peace may be mentioned. Most

important are arbitration treaties. They must be made binding, and

made to apply to all matters; the loophole which permits a nation to

refuse to arbitrate a matter which it believes to involve its "honor"

practically invalidates the treaty altogether, as every matter in

dispute may be so construed. Alliances in which one country agrees

to help another if the latter has agreed to arbitrate a matter and

its enemy has refused, may be of great value. Treaties that guarantee

existing boundaries and bind a nation not to extend its territory are

useful, even if there is no adequate method as yet of enforcing such

guaranties. The question whether we shall increase or decrease our

army and navy is hotly disputed. The United States might well lead

the way in disarmament, since the oceans that separate us from Europe

and Asia are a better protection than forts or fleets, and no nation

has enough to gain by fighting us to make it worth the cost. With the

great European nations the case is different, and disarmament will

probably have to come by mutual agreement. The only valid reason for

an American army and navy lies in the power they give us to protect

our citizens abroad, or to protect our weaker neighbors against foreign

aggression. Perhaps until there is formed an international army and

navy, it will be necessary for the most civilized and pacific nations

to keep armed, since the less scrupulous nations would remain armed

and acquire the balance of power. But the contention that a great

armament is the best guaranty of peace is untrue, for two reasons:

it is an inevitable provocation to other nations to match it with other

great armaments; and the very existence of battleships and weapons

creates a temptation to use them. The professional soldier is always

eager to see active service, to prove his efficiency, have excitement,

win glory and advancement. As the Odyssey puts it, "The steel blade

itself often incites to deeds of violence."

(6) The ultimate solution for international difficulties must, of

course, be world organization. The beginnings of an international court

we have already, the outcome of the first two Hague Conferences, in

1899 and 1907. It must be given greater powers, and backed up by an

international executive, legislature, and police. Perhaps the police

will be the combined armies of the world put at the service of

international justice. This "parliament of nations, federation of the

world" is not a Utopian dream; it is hardly a greater step than that

by which savage tribes, or the thirteen States of North America, or

the South African and Australian States, became welded into nations.

It is to be remembered that the wager of battle was the original method

of settling private disputes; and even when trial by jury was authorized,

the older form of settlement persisted long-being legally abolished

in England only as late as 1819. Similarly, the peaceful settlement

of international disputes will doubtless before many generations become

so universal that it will be difficult for our grandchildren or great-

grandchildren to realize that as late as early in the twentieth century

the most civilized nations still had recourse to the old and barbarous

wager of battle.

H. Spencer, "Patriotism,", " Rebarbarization" (in Facts and Comments).

G. K. Chesterton, "Patriotism" (in The Defendant). G. Santayana, Reason

in Society, chap. VII. Outlook, vol. 92, p. 317; vol. 90, p. 534.

International Journal of Ethics, vol. 16, p. 472. The American

Association for International Conciliation (Sub-Station 84, New York

City) sends free literature on request. A bibliography of peace

literature will be found in their pamphlet No. 64. E. L. Godkin,

"Peace" (in Reflections and Comments). W. James, "Speech at the Peace

Banquet," and "The Moral Equivalent of War" (in Memories and Studies').

Jane Addams, Newer Ideals of Peace, chaps. I, VII; The Arbiter in

Council. J. Novicow, War and its Alleged Benefits. N. Angell, The Great

Illusion. W. J. Tucker, The New Movement of Humanity. V. L. Kellogg,

Beyond War, chap. I. D. S. Jordan, War and Waste. R. C. Morris,

International Arbitration and Procedure. International Journal of

Ethics, vol. 22, p. 127. World's Work, vol. 20, p. 13318; vol. 21,

p. 14128. Independent, vol. 77, p. 396. Outlook, vol. 86, pp. 137,

145; vol. 83, p. 376; vol. 84, p. 29; vol. 98, p. 59. Hibbert

Journal, vol. 12, p. 105.

Problems of Conduct: An Introductory Survey of Ethics · 第 2 / 9 章