PEACE OF THE AIR
(A Letter to _The Times_, 1911.)
Beyond all the varying symptoms of madness in the life of modern nations
the most dreadful is this prostitution of the conquest of the air to the
ends of warfare.
If ever men presented a spectacle of sheer inanity it is now—when,
having at last triumphed in their struggle to subordinate to their
welfare the unconquered element, they have straightway commenced to
defile that element, so heroically mastered, by filling it with engines
of destruction. If ever the gods were justified of their ironic
smile—by the gods, it is now! Is there any thinker alive watching this
still utterly preventable calamity without horror and despair? Horror of
what must come of it if not promptly stopped; despair that men can be so
blind, so hopelessly and childishly the slaves of their own marvellous
inventive powers. Was there ever so patent a case for scotching at birth
a hideous development of the black arts of warfare; ever such an
occasion for the Powers in conference to ban once and for all a new and
ghastly menace?
A little reason, a grain of common sense, a gleam of sanity before it is
too late; before vested interests and the chains of a new habit have
enslaved us too hopelessly. If this fresh devilry be not quenched within
the next few years, it will be too late. Water and earth are wide enough
for men to kill each other on. For the love of the sun, and stars, and
the blue sky, that have given us all our aspirations since the beginning
of time, let us leave the air to innocence! Will not those who have eyes
to see, good-will, and the power to put that good-will into practice,
bestir themselves while there is yet time, and save mankind from this
last and worst of all its follies?