This principle, therefore, which looks at first blush like an axiom, is, as a matter of fact, an attempt to achieve a physical impossibility and always ends, as it has ended in Europe on this occasion, in explosion. You cannot indefinitely pile up explosive material without an accident of some sort occurring; it is bound to occur. But you will note this: that the militarist—while avowing by his conduct that nations can no longer in a military sense be independent, that they are obliged to co-operate with others and consequently depend upon some sort of an arrangement, agreement, compact, alliance with others—has adopted a form of compact which merely perpetuates the old impossible situation on a larger scale! He has devised the "balance of power."

For several generations Britain, which has occupied with reference to the Continent of Europe somewhat the position which we are now coming to occupy with regard to Europe as a whole, has acted on this principle—that so long as the powers of the Continent were fairly equally divided she felt she could with a fair chance of safety face either one or the other. But if one group became so much stronger than the other that it was in danger of dominating the whole Continent, then Britain might find herself faced by an overwhelming power with which she would be unable to deal. To prevent this she joined the weaker group. Thus Britain intervened in Continental politics against Napoleon as she has intervened today against the Kaiser.

But this policy is merely a perpetuation on a larger scale of the principle of "each being stronger than the other." Military power, in any case, is a thing very difficult to estimate; an apparently weaker group or nation has often proved, in fact, to be the stronger, so that there is a desire on the part of both sides to give the benefit of the doubt to themselves. Thus the natural and latent effort to be strongest is obviously fatal to any "balance." Neither side, in fact, desires a balance; each desires to have the balance tilted in its favor. This sets up a perpetual tendency toward rearrangement, and regroupings and reshufflings in these international alliances sometimes take place with extraordinary and startling rapidity, as in the case of the Balkan States.

It is already illustrated in the present war; Italy has broken away from a definite and formal alliance which every one supposed would range her on the German side. There is at least a possibility that she may finally come down upon the Anglo-Franco-Russian side. You have Japan, which little more than a decade ago was fighting bitterly against Russia, today ranged upon the side of Russia.

The position of Russia is still more startling. In the struggles of the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries Britain was almost always on the side of Russia; then for two generations she was taught that any increase of the power of Russia was a particularly dangerous menace. That once more was a decade ago suddenly changed, and Britain is now fighting to increase both relatively and absolutely the power of a country which her last war on the Continent was fought to check. The war before that which Great Britain fought upon the Continent was fought in alliance with Germans against the power of France. As to the Austrians, whom Britain is now fighting, they were for many years her faithful allies. So it is very nearly true to say of nearly all the combatants respectively that they have no enemy today that was not, historically speaking, quite recently an ally, and not an ally today that was not in the recent past an enemy.

These combinations, therefore, are not, never have been, and never can be permanent. If history, even quite recent history, has any meaning at all, the next ten or fifteen or twenty years will be bound to see among these tan combatants now in the field rearrangements and permutations out of which the crushed and suppressed Germany that is to follow the war—a Germany which will embrace, nevertheless, a hundred million of the same race, highly efficient, highly educated, trained for co-ordination and common action—will be bound sooner or later to find her chance.

If America should by any catastrophe join Britain or any other nation for the purpose of maintaining a "balance of power" in the world, then indeed would her last state be worse than her first. The essential vice of the balance of power is that it is based upon a fundamentally false assumption as to the real relationship of nations and as to the function and nature of force in human affairs. The limits of the present article preclude any analysis of most of the monstrous fallacies, but a hint can be given of one or two.

First, of course, if you could get such a thing as a real "balance of power"—two parties confronting one another with about equal forces—you would probably get a situation most favorable to war. Neither being manifestly inferior to the other, neither would be disposed to yield; each being manifestly as good as the other, would feel in "honor" bound to make no concession. If a power quite obviously superior to its rival makes concessions the world may give it credit for magnanimity in yielding, but otherwise it would always be in the position of being compelled to vindicate its courage. Our notions of honor and valor being what they are, no situation could be created more likely to bring about deadlocks and precipitate fights. All the elements are there for bringing about that position in which the only course left is "to fight it out."

The assumption underlying the whole theory of the balance of power is that predominant military power in a nation will necessarily—or at least probably—be exercised against its weaker neighbors to their disadvantage. Thus Britain has acted on the assumption that if one power dominated the Continent, British independence, more truly perhaps British predominance in the world would be threatened.

Now, how has a society of individuals—the community within the frontiers of a nation—met this difficulty which now confronts the society of nations, the difficulty that is of the danger of the power of an individual or a group? They have met it by determining that no individual or group shall exercise physical power or predominance over others; that the community alone shall be predominant. How has that predominance been secured? By determining that any one member attacked shall be opposed by the whole weight of the community, (exercised, say, through the policeman.) If A flies at B's throat in the street with the evident intention of throttling him to death, the community, if it is efficient, immediately comes to the support of B.

And you will note this: that it does not allow force to be used for the settlement of differences by anybody. The community does not use force as such at all; it merely cancels the force of units and determines that nobody shall use it. It eliminates force. And it thus cancels the power of the units to use it against other units (other than as a part of the community) by standing ready at all times to reduce the power of any one unit to futility. If A says that B began it, the community does not say, "Oh, in that case you may continue to use your force; finish him off." It says, on the contrary, "Then we'll see that B does not use his force; we'll restrain him, we won't have either of you using force. We'll cancel it and suppress it wherever it rears its head." For there is this paradox at the basis of all civilized intercourse: force between men has but one use—to see that force settles no difference between them.

And this has taken place because men—individually—have decided that the advantage of the security of each from aggression outweighs the advantage which each has in the possible exercise of aggression. When nations have come to the same decision—and not a moment before—they will protect themselves from aggression in precisely the same way—by agreeing between them that they will cancel by their collective power the force of any one member exercised against another.

I emphasize the fact that you must get this recognition of common interest in a given action before you can get the common action. We have managed it in the relations between individuals because, the numbers being so much greater than in the case of nations, individual dissent goes for less. The policeman, the judge, the jailer have behind them a larger number relatively to individual exceptions than is the case with nations. For the existence of such an arrangement by no means implies that men shall be perfect, that each shall willingly obey all the laws which he enforces. It merely implies that his interest in the law as a whole is greater than his interest in its general violation.

No man for a single day of his life observes all the Ten Commandments, yet you can always secure a majority for the support of the Ten Commandments, for the simple reason that while there are a great many who would like to rob, all are in favor of being protected against the robber. While there are a great many who would like on occasion to kill, all are in favor of being protected against being killed. The prohibition of this act secures universal support embracing "all of the people all of the time"; the positive impulse to it is isolated and occasional—with some individuals perhaps all the time, but with all individuals only some of the time, if ever.

When you come to the nations, there is less disproportion between the strength of the unit and the society. Hence nations have been slower than individuals in realizing their common interest. Each has placed greater reliance on its own strength for its protection. Yet the principle remains the same. There may be nations which desire for their own interest to go to war, but they all want to protect themselves against being beaten. You have there an absolutely common interest. The other interest, the desire to beat, is not so universal; in fact, if any value can be given whatever to the statement of the respective statesmen, such an interest is non-existent.

There is not a single statesman in Christendom today who would admit for a moment that it is his desire to wage war on a neighboring nation for the purpose of conquering it. All this warfare is, each party to it declares, merely a means of protecting itself against the aggression of neighbors. Whatever insincerity there may be in these declarations we can at least admit this much, that the desire to be safe is more widespread than the desire to conquer, for the desire to be safe is universal.

We ought to be able, therefore, to achieve, on the part of the majority, action to that end. And on this same principle there can be no doubt that the nations as a whole would give their support to any plan which would help to secure them from being attacked. It is time for the society of nations to take this first step toward the creation of a real community; to agree, that is, that the influence of the whole shall be thrown against the one recalcitrant member.

The immensely increased contact between nations which has set up a greater independence (in the way hinted at in my last article) has given weight to the interest in security and taken from the interest in aggression. The tendency to aggression is often a blind impulse due to the momentum of old ideas which have not yet had time to be discredited and disintegrated by criticism. And of organization for the really common interest—that of security against aggression—there has, in fact, been none. If there is one thing certain it is that in Europe last July the people did not want war; they tolerated it, passively dragged by the momentum of old forces which they could not even formulate. The really general desire has never been organized; any means of giving effect to a common will—such as is given it in society within the frontiers—has never so far been devised.

I believe that it is the mission of America in her own interest to devise it; that the circumstances of her isolation, historical and geographical, enable her to do for the older peoples—and herself—a service which by reason of their circumstances, geographical and historical, they cannot do for themselves.

The power that she exercises to this end need not be military. I do not think that it should be military. This war has shown that the issues of military conflict are so uncertain, depending upon all sorts of physical accidents, that no man can possibly say which side will win. The present war is showing daily that the advantage does not always go with numbers, and the outcome of war is always to some extent a hazard and a gamble, but there are certain forces that can be set in operation by nations situated as the United States, that are not in any way a gamble and a hazard, the effect of which will be quite certain.

I refer to the pressure of such a thing as organized non-intercourse, the sending of a country to moral, social, economic Coventry. We are, I know, here treading somewhat unknown ground, but we have ample evidence to show that there do exist forces capable of organization, stronger, and more certain in their operation than military forces. That the world is instinctively feeling this is demonstrated by the present attitude of all the combatants in Europe to the United States. The United States relatively to powers like Russia, Britain, and Germany is not a great military power, yet they are all pathetically anxious to secure the good-will of the United States.

Why?

It can hardly be to save the shock to their moral feelings which would come from the mere disapproval of people on the other side of the world. If any percentage of what we have read of German methods is true, if German ethics bear the faintest resemblance to what they are so often represented to be, Germany must have no feeling in the political sphere to be hurt by the moral disapproval of the people of the United States. If German statesmen are so desperately anxious as they evidently are to secure the approval and good-will of the United States it is because they realize, however indistinctly, that there lie in the hands of the United States powers which could be loosed, more portentous than those held by the masters of many legions.

Just what these powers are and how they might be used to give America greater security than she could achieve by arms, to place her at the virtual head of a great world State, and to do for mankind as a whole a service greater than any yet recorded in written history, must be left to the third and concluding article of this series.

III.

AMERICA AS LEADER.

In the preceding article I indicated that America might undertake at this juncture of international affairs an intervention in the politics of the Old World which is of a kind not heretofore attempted by any nation, an intervention, that is to say, that should not be military, but in the first instance mediatory and moral, having in view if needs be the employment of certain organized social and economic forces which I will detail presently.

The suggestion that America should take any such lead is resisted first on the ground that it is a violation of her traditional policy, and secondly that "economic and social forces" are bound to be ineffective unless backed by military, so that the plea would involve her in a militarist policy. With reference to these two points, I pointed out in the preceding article that America's isolation from a movement for world agreement would infallibly land her in a very pronounced militarist policy, the increase of her armaments, the militarization of her civilization and all that that implies.

There are open to America at this present moment two courses: one which will lead her to militarism and the indefinite increase of armaments—that is the course of isolation from the world's life, from the new efforts that will be made toward world organization; the other to anticipate events and take the initiative in the leadership of world organization, which would have the effect of rendering western civilization, including herself, less military, less dependent upon arms, and put the development of that civilization on a civilist rather than a militarist basis.

I believe that it is the failure to realize that this intervention can be non-military in character which explains the reluctance of very many Americans to depart from their traditional policy of non-intervention. With reference to that point it is surely germane to remember that the America of 1914 is not the America of 1776; circumstances which made Washington's advice sound and statesmanlike have been transformed. The situation today is not that of a tiny power not yet solidified, remote from the main currents of the world's life, out-matched in resources by any one of the greater powers of Europe. America is no longer so remote as to have little practical concern with Europe. Its contacts with Europe are instantaneous, daily, intimate, innumerable—so much so indeed that our own civilization will be intimately affected and modified by certain changes which threaten in the older world.

I will put the case thus: Suppose that there are certain developments in Europe which would profoundly threaten our own civilization and our own security, and suppose further that we could without great cost to ourselves so guide or direct those changes and developments as to render them no longer a menace to this country. If such a case could be established, would not adherence to a formula established under eighteenth century conditions have the same relation to sound politics that the incantations and taboos of superstitious barbarians have to sound religion? And I think such a case can be established.

I wonder whether it has occurred to many Americans to ask why all the belligerents in this present war are showing such remarkable deference to American public opinion. Some Americans may, of course, believe that it is the sheer personal fascination of individual Americans or simple tenderness of moral feeling that makes Great Britain, France, Russia, Germany, and Austria take definitely so much trouble at a time when they have sufficient already, to demonstrate that they have taken the right course, that they are obeying all the laws of war, that they are not responsible for the war in any way, and so forth. Is it simply that our condemnation would hurt their feelings? This hardly agrees with certain other ideas which we hold as to the belligerents.

There is something beyond this order of motive at the bottom of the immense respect which all the combatants alike are paying to American opinion. It happened to the writer recently to meet a considerable number of Belgian refugees from Brussels, all of them full of stories (which I must admit were second or third or three-hundredth hand) of German barbarity and ferocity. Yet all were obliged to admit that German behavior in Brussels had on the whole been very good. But that, they explained, was "merely because the American Consul put his foot down." Yet one is not aware that President Wilson had authorized the American Consul so much as to hint at the possible military intervention of America in this war. Nevertheless there can be no doubt that these "Huns," so little susceptible in our view for the most part to moral considerations, were greatly influenced by the opinion of America; and we know also that the other belligerents have shown the same respect for the attitude of the United States.

I think we have here what so frequently happens in the development of the attitude of men toward large general questions: the intuitive recognition of a truth which those who recognize it are quite unable to put into words. It is a self-protective instinct, a movement that is made without its being necessary to think it out. (In the way that the untaught person is able instantly to detect the false note in a tune without knowing that such things as notes or crotchets and quavers exist.)

It is quite true that the Germans feared the bad opinion of the world because the bad opinion of the world may be translated into an element of resistance to the very ends which it is the object of the war to achieve for Germany.

Those ends include the extension of German influence, material and moral, of German commerce and culture. But a world very hostile to Germany might quite conceivably check both. We say, rightly enough, probably, that pride of place and power had its part—many declare the prominent part—in the motives that led Germany into this war. But it is quite conceivable that a universal revulsion of feeling against a power like Germany might neutralize the influence she would gain in the world by a mere extension of her territorial conquests.

Russia, for instance, has nearly five times the population and very many times the area of France; but one may doubt whether even a Russian would assert that Russian influence is five or ten times greater than that of France; still less that the world yielded him in any sense a proportionately greater deference than it yields the Frenchman. The extent to which the greatest power can impose itself by bayonets is very limited in area and depth. All the might of the Prussian Army cannot compel the children of Poland or of Lorraine to say their prayers in German; it cannot compel the housewives of Switzerland or Paraguay or of any other little State that has not a battleship to its name to buy German saucepans if so be they do not desire to. There are so many other things necessary to render political or military force effective, and there are so many that can offset it altogether.

We see these forces at work around us every day accomplishing miracles, doing things which a thousand years of fighting was never able to do—and then say serenely that they are mere "theories." Why do Catholic powers no longer execute heretics? They have a perfect right—even in international law—to do so. What is it that protects the heretic in Catholic countries? The police? But the main business of the police and the army used to be to hunt him down. What is controlling the police and the army?

By some sort of process there has been an increasing intuitive recognition of a certain code which we realize to be necessary for a decent society. It has come to be a sanction much stronger than the sanction of law, much more effective than the sanction of military force. During the German advance on Paris in August last I happened to be present at a French family conference. Stories of the incredible cruelties and ferocity of the Germans were circulating in the Northern Department, where I happened to be staying.

Every one was in a condition of panic, and two Frenchmen, fathers of families, were seeing red at the story of all these barbarities. But they had to decide—and the thing was discussed at a little family conference—where they should send their wives and children. And one of these Frenchmen, the one who had been most ferocious in his condemnation of the German barbarian, said quite naively and with no sense of irony or paradox: "Of course, if we could find an absolutely open town which would not be defended at all the women folk and children would be all right." His instinct, of course, was perfectly just. The German "savage" had had three quarters of a million people in his absolute power in Brussels, and so far as we know, not a child or a woman has been injured.

Indeed, in normal times our security against foreigners is not based upon physical force at all. I suppose during the last century some hundreds of thousands of British and American tourists have traveled through the historic cities of Germany, their children have gone to the German educational institutions, their invalids have been attended by German doctors and cut up by German surgeons in German sanatoria and health resorts, and I am quite sure that it never occurred to any one of these hundreds of thousands that their little children when in the educational institutions of these "Huns" were in any way in danger. It was not the guns of the American Navy or the British Navy that were protecting them; the physical force of America or of Great Britain could not certainly be the factor operative in, say, Switzerland or Austria, yet every Summer tens of thousands of them trust their lives and those of their women and children in the remote mountains of Switzerland on no better security than the expectation that a foreign community over whom we have no possibility of exercising force will observe a convention which has no sanction other than the recognition that it is to their advantage to observe it.

And we thus have the spectacle of millions of Anglo-Saxons absolutely convinced that the sanctity of their homes and the safety of their property are secure from the ravages of the foreigner only because they possess a naval and military force that overawes him, yet serenely leaving the protection of that military force, and placing life and property alike within the absolute power of that very foreigner against whose predatory tendencies we spend millions in protecting ourselves.

No use of military power, however complete and overwhelming, would pretend to afford a protection anything like as complete as that afforded by these moral forces. Sixty years ago Britain had as against Greece a preponderance of power that made her the absolute dictator of the latter's policy, yet all the British battleships and all the threats of "consequences" could not prevent British travelers being murdered by Greek brigands, though in Switzerland only moral forces—the recognition by an astute people of the advantage of treating foreigners well—had already made the lives and property of Britons as safe in that country as in their own.

In the same way, no scheme of arming Protestants as against Catholics, or Catholics as against Protestants (the method which gave us the wars of religion and massacre of St. Bartholomew) could assure that general security of spiritual and intellectual possessions which we now in large measure enjoy. So indeed with the more material things, France, Great Britain, and some of the older nations have sunk thousands of millions in foreign investments, the real security of which is not in any physical force which their Government could possibly exercise, but the free recognition of foreigners that it is to their advantage to adhere to financial obligations. Englishmen do not even pretend that the security of their investments in a country like the United States or the Argentine is dependent upon the coercion which the British Government is able to exercise over these communities.

The reader will not, I think, misunderstand me. I am not pleading that human nature has undergone or will undergo any radical transformation. Rather am I asserting that it will not undergo any; that the intention of the man of the tenth century in Europe was as good as that of the man of the twentieth, that the man of the tenth century was as capable of self-sacrifice—was, it may be, less self-seeking. But what I am trying to hint is that the shrinking of the world by our developed intercommunication has made us all more interdependent.

The German Government moves its troops against Belgium; a moratorium is immediately proclaimed in Rio de Janeiro, a dozen American Stock Exchanges are promptly closed and some hundreds of thousands of our people are affected in their daily lives. This worldwide effect is not a matter of some years or a generation or two. It is a matter of an hour; we are intimately concerned with the actions of men on the other side of the world that we have never seen and never shall see; and they are intimately concerned with us. We know without having thought it out that we are bound together by a compact; the very fact that we are dependent upon one another creates as a matter of fact a partnership. We are expecting the other man to perform his part; he has been doing so uninterruptedly for years, and we send him our goods or we take his bill of exchange, or our families are afloat in his ships, expecting that he will pay for his goods, honor the bill of exchange, navigate safely his ship—he has undertaken to do these things in the world-wide partnership of our common labor and then he fails. He does not do these things, and we have a very lively sense of the immorality of the doctrine which permits him to escape doing them.

And so there are certain things that are not done, certain lengths to which even in war time we cannot go. What will stop the war is not so much the fighting, any more than Protestant massacres prevented Catholic massacres. Men do not fear the enemy soldiers; they do fear the turning of certain social and moral forces against them. The German Government does not hesitate for a moment to send ten thousand of its own people to certain death under enemy guns even though the military advantage of so doing may be relatively trifling. But it dare not order the massacre of ten thousand foreign residents in Berlin. There is some force which makes it sometimes more scrupulous of the lives of its enemy than of the lives of its own people.

Yet why should it care? Because of the physical force of the armies ranged against it? But it has to meet that force in any case. It fears that the world will be stirred. In other words, it knows that the world at large has a very lively realization that in its own interest certain things must not be done, that the world would not live together as we now know it, if it permitted those things to be done. It would not so permit them.

At the bottom of this moral hesitation is an unconscious realization of the extent of each nation's dependence upon the world partnership. It is not a fear of physical chastisement; any nation will go to war against desperate odds if a foreign nation talks of chastising it. It is not that consideration which operates, as a thousand examples in history prove to us. There are forces outside military power more visible and ponderable than these.

There exists, of course, already a world State which has no formal recognition in our paper constitutions at all, and no sanction in physical force. If you are able to send a letter to the most obscure village of China, a telegram to any part of the planet, to travel over most of the world in safety, to carry on trade therewith, it is because for a generation the Post Office Departments of the world have been at work arranging traffic and communication details, methods of keeping their accounts; because the ship owner has been devising international signal codes; the banker arranging conditions of international credit; because, in fact, not merely a dozen but some hundreds of international agreements, most of them made not between Governments at all, but between groups and parties directly concerned, have been devised.

There is no overlord enforcing them, yet much of our daily life depends upon their normal working. The bankers or the shipowners or the makers of electric machinery have met in Paris or Brussels and decided that such shall be the accepted code, such the universal measurement for the lamp or instrument, such the conditions for the bill of exchange and from the moment that there is an agreement you do not need any sanction. If the instrument does not conform to the measurement it is unsalable and that is sanction enough.



We have seen in the preceding article that the dependence of the nations goes back a good deal further than we are apt to think; that long before the period of fully developed intercommunication, all nations owed their civilization to foreigners. It was to their traffic with Gaul and the visits of the Phoenician traders that the early inhabitants of the British Isles learned their first steps in arts and crafts and the development of a civilized society, and even in what we know as the Dark Ages we find Charlemagne borrowing scholars from York to assist him in civilizing the Continent.

The civilization which our forefathers brought with them to America was the result of centuries of exchange in ideas between Britain and the Continent, and though in the course of time it had become something characteristically Anglo-Saxon, its origins were Greek and Arabic and Roman and Jewish. But the interdependence of nations today is of an infinitely more vital and insistent kind, and despite superficial setbacks becomes more vital every day. As late as the first quarter of the nineteenth century, for instance, Britain was still practically self-sufficing; her very large foreign trade was a trade in luxuries. She could still produce her own food, her population could still live on her own soil.

But if today by some sort of magic Britain could kill off all foreigners the means of livelihood for quite an appreciable portion of her population would have disappeared. Millions would be threatened by actual starvation. For Britain's overseas trade, on which so large a proportion of the population actually lives, is mainly with the outside world and not with her own empire. We have seen what isolation merely from two countries has meant for Great Britain. Britain is still maintaining her contacts with the world as a whole, but the cessation of relationship with two countries has precipitated the gravest financial crisis known in all her history, has kept her Stock Exchanges closed for months, has sent her Consols to a lower point than any known since the worst period of the Napoleonic wars, and has compelled the Government ruthlessly to pledge its credit for the support of banking institutions and all the various trades that have been most seriously hit.

Nor is Germany's isolation altogether complete. She manages through neutral countries and otherwise to maintain a considerable current of relationship with the outside world, but how deeply and disastrously the partial severance of contact has affected Germany we shall not at present, probably at no time, in full measure know.

All this gives a mere hint of what the organized isolation by the entire world would mean to any one nation. Imagine the position of a civilized country whose ports no ship from another country would enter, whose bills no banker would discount, a country unable to receive a telegram or a letter from the outside world or send one thereto, whose citizens could neither travel in other countries or maintain communications therewith. It would have an effect in the modern world somewhat equivalent to that of the dreadful edicts of excommunication and interdict which the papal power was able to issue in the mediaeval world.

I am aware, of course, that such a measure would fall very hardly upon certain individuals in the countries inflicting this punishment, but it is quite within the power of the Governments of those countries to do what the British Government has done in the case of persons like acceptors of German bills who found themselves threatened with bankruptcy and who threatened in consequence to create great disturbance around them because of the impossibility of securing payment from the German indorsers. The British Government came to the rescue of those acceptors, used the whole national credit to sustain them. It is expensive, if you will, but infinitely less expensive than a war, and, finally, most of the cost of it will probably be recovered.

Now if that were done, how could a country so dealt with retaliate? She could not attack all the world at once. Upon those neighbors more immediately interested could be thrown the burden of taking such defensive military measures as the circumstances might dictate. You might have a group of powers probably taking such defensive measures and all the powers of Christendom co-operating economically by this suggested non-intercourse. It is possible even that the powers as a whole might contribute to a general fund indemnifying individuals in those States particularly hit by the fact of non-intercourse. I am thinking, for instance, of shipping interests in a port like Amsterdam if the decree of non-intercourse were proclaimed against a power like Germany.

We have little conception of the terror which such a policy might constitute to a nation. It has never been tried, of course, because even in war complete non-intercourse is not achieved. At the present time Germany is buying and selling and trading with the outside world, cables from Berlin are being sent almost as freely to New York as cables from London and German merchants are making contracts, maintaining connections of very considerable complexity. But if this machinery of non-intercourse were organized as it might be, there would be virtually no neutrals, and its effect in our world today would be positively terrifying.

It is true that the American administration did try something resembling a policy of non-intercourse in dealing with Mexico. But, the thing was a fiction. While the Department of State talked of non-intercourse the Department of the Treasury was busy clearing ships for Mexico, facilitating the dispatch of mails, &c. And, of course, Mexico's communication with Europe remained unimpaired; at the exact moment when the President of the United States was threatening Huerta with all sorts of dire penalties Huerta's Government was arranging in London for the issue of large loans and the advertisements of these Mexican loans were appearing in The London Times. So that the one thing that might have moved Huerta's Government the United States Government was unable to enforce. In order to enforce it, it needed the co-operation of other countries.

I have spoken of the economic world State—of all those complex international arrangements concerning Post Offices, shipping, banking, codes, sanctions of law, criminal research, and the rest, on which so much of our civilized life depends. This world State is unorganized, incoherent. It has neither a centre nor a capital, nor a meeting place. The shipowners gather in Paris, the world's bankers in Madrid or Berne, and what is in effect some vital piece of world regulation is devised in the smoking room of some Brussels hotel. The world State has not so much as an office or an address, The United States should give it one. Out of its vast resources it should endow civilization with a Central Bureau of Organization—a Clearing House of its international activities as it were, with the funds needed for its staff and upkeep.

If undertaken with largeness of spirit, it would become the capital of the world. And the Old World looks to America to do this service, because it is the one which it cannot do for itself. Its old historic jealousies and squabbles, from which America is so happily detached, prevent any one power taking up and putting through this work of organization, but America could do it, and do it so effectively that from it might well flow this organization of that common action of all the nations against any recalcitrant member of which I have spoken as a means of enforcing non-militarily a common decision.

It is this world State which it should be the business of America during the next decade or two to co-ordinate, to organize. Its organization will not come into being as the result of a week-end talk between Ambassadors. There will be difficulties, material as well as moral, jealousies to overcome, suspicions to surmount. But this war places America in a more favorable position than any one European power. The older powers would be less suspicious of her than of any one among their number. America has infinitely greater material resources, she has a greater gift for improvised organization, she is less hidebound by old traditions, more disposed to make an attempt along new lines.

That is the most terrifying thing about the proposal which I make—it has never been tried. But the very difficulties constitute for America also an immense opportunity. We have had nations give their lives and the blood of their children for a position of supremacy and superiority. But we are in a position of superiority and supremacy which for the most part would be welcomed by the world as a whole and which would not demand of America the blood of one of her children. It would demand some enthusiasm, some moral courage, some sustained effort, faith, patience, and persistence. It would establish new standards in, and let us hope a new kind of, international rivalry.

One word as to a starting point and a possible line of progress. The first move toward the ending of this present war may come from America. The President of the United States will probably act as mediator. The terms of peace will probably be settled in Washington. Part of the terms of peace to be exacted by the Allies will probably be, as I have already hinted, some sort of assurance against future danger from German militarist aggression.

The German, rightly or wrongly, does not believe that he has been the aggressor—it is not a question at all of whether he is right or wrong; it is a question of what he believes. And he believes quite honestly and sincerely that he is merely defending himself. So what he will be mainly concerned about in the future is his security from the victorious Allies.

Around this point much of the discussion at the conclusion of this present war will range. If it is to be a real peace and not a truce an attempt will have to be made to give to each party security from the other, and the question will then arise whether America will come into that combination or not. I have already indicated that I think she should not come in, certainly I do not think she will come in, with the offer of military aid. But if she stays out of it altogether she will have withdrawn from this world congress that must sit at the end of the war a mediating influence which may go far to render it nugatory.

And when, after it may be somewhat weary preliminaries, an international council of conciliation is established to frame the general basis of the new alliance between the civilized powers for mutual protection along the lines indicated, America, if she is to play her part in securing the peace of the world, must be ready to throw at least her moral and economic weight into the common stock, the common moral and economic forces which will act against the common enemy, whoever he may happen to be.

That does not involve taking sides, as I showed in my last article. The policeman does not decide which of two quarrelers is right; he merely decides that the stronger shall not use his power against the weaker. He goes to the aid of the weaker, and then later the community deals with the one who is the real aggressor. One may admit, if you will, that at present there is no international law, and that it may not be possible to create one. But we can at least exact that there shall be an inquiry, a stay; and more often than not that alone would suffice to solve the difficulty without the application of definite law.

It is just up to that point that the United States should at this stage be ready to commit herself in the general council of conciliation, namely, to say this: "We shall throw our weight against any power that refuses to give civilization an opportunity at least of examining and finding out what the facts of the dispute are. After due examination we may reserve the right to withdraw from any further interference between such power and its antagonist. But, at least, we pledge ourselves to secure that by throwing the weight of such non-military influence as we may have on to the side of the weaker." That is the point at which a new society of nations would begin, as it is the point at which a society of individuals has begun. And it is for the purpose of giving effect to her undertaking in that one regard that America should become the centre of a definite organization of that world State which has already cut athwart all frontiers and traversed all seas.

It is not easy without apparent hyperbole to write of the service which America would thus render to mankind. She would have discovered a new sanction for human justice, would have made human society a reality. She would have done something immeasurably greater, immeasurably more beneficent than any of the conquests recorded in the long story of man's mostly futile struggles. The democracy of America would have done something which the despots and the conquerors of all time, from Alexander and Caesar to Napoleon and the Kaiser, have found to be impossible. Dangerous as I believe national vanity to be, America would, I think, find in the pride of this achievement—this American leadership of the human race—a glory that would not be vain, a world victory which the world would welcome.



SIR CHRISTOPHER CRADOCK.

By JOHN E. DOLSON.

Through the fog of the fight we could dimly see, As ever the flame from the big guns flashed, That Cradock was doomed, yet his men and he, With their plates shot to junk, and their turrets smashed, Their ship heeled over, her funnels gone, Were fearlessly, doggedly fighting on.

Out-speeded, out-metaled, out-ranged, out-shot By heavier guns, they were not out-fought. Those men—with the age-old British phlegm, That has conquered and held the seas for them, And the courage that causes the death-struck man To rise on his mangled stumps and try, With one last shot from his heated gun, To score a hit ere his spirit fly, Then sink in the welter of red, and die With the sighting squint fixed on his dead, glazed eye— Accepted death as part of the plan.

So the guns belched flame till the fight had run Into night; and now, in the distance dim, We could see, by the flashes, the dull, dark loom Of their hull, as it bore toward the Port of Doom, Away on the water's misty rim— Cradock and his few hundred men, Never, in time, to be seen again.

While into the darkness their great shells streamed, Little the valiant Germans dreamed That Cradock was teaching them how to go When the fate their daring, itself, had sealed, Waiting, as yet, o'er the ocean's verge, To their eyes undaunted would stand revealed; And, snared by a swifter, stronger foe, Out-classed, out-metaled, out-ranged, out-shot By heavier guns, but not out-fought, They, too, would sink in the sheltering surge.



Battle of the Suez Canal

A First-Hand Account of the Unsuccessful Turkish Invasion

[From The London Times, Feb. 19, 1915.]

ISMAILIA, Feb. 10.

Though skirmishing had taken place between the enemy's reconnoitring parties and our outposts during the latter part of January, the main attack was not developed until Feb. 2, when the enemy began to move toward the Ismailia Ferry. They met a reconnoitring party of Indian troops of all arms, and a desultory engagement ensued, to which a violent sand storm put a sudden end about 3 o'clock in the afternoon. The main attacking force pushed forward toward its destination after nightfall. From twenty-five to thirty galvanized iron pontoon boats, seven and a half meters in length, which had been dragged in carts across the desert, were hauled by hand toward the water, with one or two rafts made of kerosene tins in a wooden frame. All was ready for the attack.

The first warning of the enemy's approach was given by a sentry of a mountain battery, who heard, to him, an unknown tongue across the water. The noise soon increased. It would seem that Mudjah Ideen ("Holy Warriors")—said to be mostly old Tripoli fighters—accompanied the pontoon section and regulars of the Seventy-fifth Regiment, for loud exhortations often in Arabic of "Brothers die for the faith; we can die but once," betrayed the enthusiastic irregular.

The Egyptians waited till the Turks were pushing their boats into the water; then the Maxims attached to the battery suddenly spoke and the guns opened with case at point-blank range at the men and boats crowded under the steep bank opposite them.

Immediately, a violent fire broke out on both sides of the canal, the enemy replying to the rifles and machine gun fire and the battery on our bank. Around the guns it was impossible to stand up, but the gunners stuck to the work, inflicting terrible punishment.

A little torpedo boat with a crew of thirteen patrolling the canal dashed up and landed a party of four officers and men to the south of Tussum, who climbed up the eastern bank and found themselves in a Turkish trench, and escaped by a miracle with the news. Promptly the midget dashed in between the fires and enfiladed the eastern bank amid a hail of bullets, and destroyed several pontoon boats lying unlaunched on the bank. It continued to harass the enemy, though two officers and two men were wounded.

As the dark, cloudy night lightened toward dawn fresh forces came into action. The Turks, who occupied the outer, or day, line of the Tussum post, advanced, covered by artillery, against the Indian troops holding the inner, or night, position, while an Arab regiment advanced against the Indian troops at the Serapeum post.

The warships on the canal and lake joined in the fray. The enemy brought some six batteries of field guns into action from the slopes west of Kataib-el-Kheil. Shells admirably fused made fine practice at all the visible targets, but failed to find the battery above mentioned, which, with some help from a detachment of infantry, beat down the fire of the riflemen on the opposite bank and inflicted heavy losses on the hostile supports advancing toward the canal. A chance salvo wounded four men of the battery, but it ran more risk from a party of about twenty of the enemy who had crossed the canal in the dark and sniped the gunners from the rear till they were finally rounded up by the Indian cavalry and compelled to surrender.

Supported by land naval artillery the Indian troops took the offensive. The Serapeum garrison, which had stopped the enemy three-quarters of a mile from the position, cleared its front, and the Tussum garrison by a brilliant counter-attack drove the enemy back. Two battalions of Anatolians of the Twenty-eighth Regiment were thrown vainly into the fight. Our artillery gave them no chance, and by 3:30 in the afternoon a third of the enemy, with the exception of a force that lay hid in bushy hollows on the east bank between the two posts, were in full retreat, leaving many dead, a large proportion of whom had been killed by shrapnel.

Meanwhile the warships on the lake had been in action. A salvo from a battleship woke up Ismailia early, and crowds of soldiers and some civilians climbed every available sandhill to see what was doing till the Turkish guns sent shells sufficiently near to convince them that it was safer to watch from cover. A husband and wife took a carriage and drove along the lake front, much peppered by shells, till near the old French hospital, when they realized the danger and suddenly whisked around and drove back full gallop to Ismailia.

But the enemy's fire did more than startle. At about 11 in the morning two six-inch shells hit the Hardinge near the southern entrance of the lake. The first damaged the funnel and the second burst inboard. Pilot Carew, a gallant old merchant seaman, refused to go below when the firing opened and lost a leg. Nine others were wounded. One or two merchantmen were hit, but no lives were lost. A British gunboat was struck.

Then came a dramatic duel between the Turkish big gun or guns and a warship. The Turks fired just over and then just short of 9,000 yards. The warship sent in a salvo of more six-inch shells than had been fired that day.

During the morning the enemy moved toward Ismailia Ferry. The infantry used the ground well, digging shelter pits as they advanced, and were covered by a well-served battery. An officer, apparently a German, exposed himself with the greatest daring, and watchers were interested to see a yellow "pie dog," which also escaped, running about the advancing line. Our artillery shot admirably and kept the enemy from coming within 1,000 yards of the Indian outposts. In the afternoon the demonstration—for it was no more—ceased but for a few shells fired as "a nightcap." During the dark night that followed some of the enemy approached the outpost line of the ferry position with a dog, but nothing happened, and day found them gone.

At the same time as the fighting ceased at the ferry it died down at El Kantara. There the Turks, after a plucky night attack, came to grief on our wire entanglements. Another attempt to advance from the southeast was forced back by an advance of the Indian troops. The attack, during which it was necessary to advance on a narrow front over ground often marshy with recent inundations against our strong position, never had a chance. Indeed, the enemy was only engaged with our outpost line.

Late in the afternoon of the 3d there was sniping from the east bank between Tussum and Serapeum and a man was killed in the tops of a British battleship. Next morning the sniping was renewed, and the Indian troops, moving out to search the ground, found several hundred of the enemy in the hollow previously mentioned. During the fighting some of the enemy, either by accident or design, held up their hands, while others fired on the Punjabis, who were advancing to take the surrender, and killed a British officer. A sharp fight with the cold steel followed, and a British officer killed a Turkish officer with a sword thrust in single combat. The body of a German officer with a white flag was afterward found here, but there is no proof that the white flag was used. Finally all the enemy were killed, captured, or put to flight.

With this the fighting ended, and the subsequent operations were confined to "rounding up" prisoners and to the capture of a considerable amount of military material left behind. The Turks who departed with their guns and baggage during the night of the 3d still seemed to be moving eastward.

So ended the battle of the Suez Canal. Our losses have been amazingly small, totaling about 111 killed and wounded.



Our opponents have probably lost nearly 3,000 men. The Indian troops bore the brunt of the fighting and were well supported by the British and French warships and by the Egyptian troops. The Turks fought bravely and their artillery shot well if unluckily, but the intentions of the higher command are still a puzzle to British officers.

Did Djemal Pasha intend to try to break through our position under cover of demonstrations along a front over ninety miles in length with a total force, perhaps, of 25,000 men, or was he attempting a reconnoissance in force? If the former is the case, he must have had a low idea of British leadership or an amazing belief in the readiness and ability of sympathizers in Egypt to support the Turk. Certainly he was misinformed as to our positions, and on the 4th we buried on the eastern bank the bodies of two men, apparently Syrians or Egyptians, who were found with their hands tied and their eyes bandaged. Probably they were guides who had been summarily killed, having unwittingly led the enemy astray. If, on the other hand, Djemal Pasha was attempting a reconnoissance, it was a costly business and gave General Wilson a very handsome victory.

Till the last week of January there had been some doubt as to the road by which the Ottoman Commander in Chief in Syria intended to advance on the canal. Before the end of the month it was quite clear that what was then believed to be the Turkish advanced guard, having marched with admirable rapidity from Beersheba via El Auja, Djebel Libni, and Djifjaffa, was concentrating in the valleys just east of Kataib-el-Kheil, a group of hills lying about ten miles east of the canal, where it enters Lake Timsah. A smaller column detached from this force was sighted in the hills east of Ismailia Ferry. Smaller bodies had appeared in the neighborhood of El Kantara and between Suez and the Bitter Lakes.

The attacks on our advanced posts at El Kantara on the night of Jan. 26 and 27, and at Kubri, near Suez, on the following night, were beaten off. Hostile guns fired occasional shells, while our warships returned the compliment at any hostile column that seemed to offer a good target, and our aeroplanes dropped bombs when they had the chance; but in general the enemy kept a long distance off and was tantalizing. Our launches and boats, which were constantly patrolling the canal, could see him methodically intrenching just out of range of the naval guns.

By the night of Feb. 1 the enemy had prepared his plan of attack. To judge both from his movements during the next two days and the documents found on prisoners and slain, it was proposed to attack El Kantara while making a demonstration at El Ferdan, further south, and prevent reinforcements at the first-named post. The demonstration at Ismailia Ferry by the right wing of the Kataib-el-Kheil force which had been partly refused till then in order to prevent a counter-attack from the ferry, was designed to occupy the attention of the Ismailia garrison, while the main attack was delivered between the Tussum post, eight miles south of Ismailia, and the Serapeum post, some three miles further south. Eshref Bey's highly irregular force in the meantime was to demonstrate near Suez.

The selection of the Tussum and Serapeum section as the principal objective was dictated both by the consideration that success here would bring the Turks a few miles from Ismailia, and by the information received from patrols that the west bank of the canal between the posts, both of which may be described as bridgeheads, were unoccupied by our troops. The west bank between the posts is steep and marked by a long, narrow belt of trees. The east bank also falls steeply to the canal, but behind it are numerous hollows, full of brushwood, which give good cover. Here the enemy's advanced parties established themselves and intrenched before the main attack was delivered.



A Full-Fledged Socialist State

While Germany's Trade and Credit Are Holding Their Breath

By J. Laurence Laughlin

[From THE NEW YORK TIMES, March 9, 1915.]

Professor Laughlin, who makes the following remarkable study of the German financial emergency, was lecturer on political economy in Berlin on the invitation of the Prussian Cultur Ministerium in 1906, and since 1892 has been head of the Department of Political Economy in the University of Chicago. He is acknowledged to be one of the foremost American economists and the views here expressed are based on wide information.

In a great financial emergency conditions are immediately registered in the monetary and credit mechanism. Although the German Government and the Reichsbank had obviously been preparing for war long before, as soon as mobilization was ordered there was a currency panic. The private banks stopped payment in gold. Crowds then besieged the Reichsbank in order to get its notes converted into gold. Then the Banking act was suspended, so that the Reichsbank and private banks were freed from the obligation to give out gold for notes. At once all notes went to a discount in the shops as compared with gold. Thereupon, in summary fashion, the Military Governor of Berlin declared the notes to be a full legal tender and announced that any shop refusing to take them at par would be punished by confiscation of goods.

In Germany, as is well known, the main currency is supplied by the Reichsbank, covered by at least 33-1/3 per cent. in gold or silver, and the remaining two-thirds by commercial paper. Immediately after the outbreak of war there was a prodigious increase of loans at the Reichsbank, in consequence of which borrowers received notes or deposit accounts. Usually transactions are carried through by use of notes, and not by checks, as with us. On July 23, 1914, the notes stood at $472,500,000; deposits at $236,000,000; discounted bills and advances at $200,000,000. On Aug. 31 notes had increased to $1,058,500,000; deposits to $610,000,000; discounts and advances to $1,113,500,000, (by October this amount was lowered to about $750,000,000.) On the latter date the specie reserve stood at $409,500,000, or more than the legal one-third. Loans had been increased 556 per cent.; notes 223 per cent., and deposits 258 per cent. In short, $586,000,000 of notes had been issued beyond the amount required in normal times, (July 23.) Clearly this additional amount was not required by an increased exchange of goods, but by those persons whose resources were tied up and who needed a means of payment. The same was true of the large increase of deposits which resulted from the larger loans. A liberal policy of discounting was followed by which loans were given on the basis of securities or stocks of goods on hand. That is, non-negotiable assets were converted into a means of payment either in the form of notes or deposit credits.

At this juncture there was created a currency something after the fashion of the Aldrich-Vreeland emergency notes in this country. War credit banks were established by law to issue notes (Darlehnskassenscheine) in denominations of 10, 15, 20, and 50 marks as loans on stocks in trade and securities of all kinds, and were charged 6-1/2 per cent. interest. The goods on which these notes could be issued were not removed, but stamped with a Government seal. While not a legal tender, the notes were receivable at all imperial agencies. On securities classed at the Reichsbank as Class I. loans could be made up to 60 per cent. of their value as of July 31; as Class II., 40 per cent.; on the other German securities bearing a fixed rate of return, 50 per cent.; on other German securities bearing a varying rate of return, 40 per cent.; on Russian securities, a lower percentage. These institutions, therefore, took up some of the burden that would otherwise have fallen on the loan item of the Reichsbank. Hence the Reichsbank account does not show the whole situation.

To this point the methods followed were much the same as in London. Then came unusual happenings. In London for a few days the banks had wavered as to maintaining gold payments, but only temporarily. In Berlin drastic measures were undertaken to accumulate gold in the Reichsbank. Vienna reports it to be well known that Germany had been for eighteen months before straining every nerve to obtain gold. Whatever sums of gold were included in the so-called "war chest" in Spandau (said to be $30,000,000) were also deposited with the Reichsbank. Gold was even smuggled across the borders of Holland on the persons of spies. Urgent demands were made upon the people to turn in gold from patriotic motives. In this way over $400,000,000 of gold was gathered by July, 1914; and by the end of the year, after five months of war, it had risen to $523,000,000. Was Germany to maintain gold payments as well as Great Britain?

Evidently not. Gold was not given for notes on presentation. For purposes of exchanging goods the notes were in excess. Inconvertible, they must go to a discount with gold or with the money of outside countries using gold. But in order to get imports from other nations, like Holland, Scandinavia, and Denmark, Germany must either send goods, or gold, or securities. German industries, except those making war supplies, were not producing over 25 per cent. of capacity, and many were closed. The Siemens-Schuckert Works, even before the Landsturm was called out, lost 40 per cent. of their men on mobilization. The Humboldt Steel Works, near Cologne, employing 4,000 men, were closed early in August, as were nearly all the great iron works in the district between Duesseldorf and Duisburg. Probably 50 to 75 per cent. of the workers were called to the colors. The skilled artisans were in the army or in munition factories; the railways were in the hands of the military; and the merchant marine was shut up in home or foreign ports. There were said to be 1,500 idle ships in Hamburg alone. Few goods could be exported. Gold was refused for export, of course. A serious liquidation in foreign securities had been going on long before the war. Some foreign securities must have still remained. However that may be, a claim to funds in Germany (i.e., a bill drawn on Germany) was not redeemable in gold, and it fell in price. In normal times a bill could not fall below the shipping point in gold, (par with us for 4 marks is 95-1/4 cents in gold;) but, since gold could not be sent, exchange on Germany could fall to any figure, set only by a declining demand. Already bills on Germany have been quoted in New York at 82, showing a depreciation of German money in the international field of about 13 per cent. Likewise, as early as the first week of September, the Reichsbank notes were reported at a discount of 20 per cent., and as practically non-negotiable in a neighboring country like Holland.

The inevitable consequence of a depreciated currency must be a rise of prices, usually greater than the actual percentage of depreciation. To meet this situation there came a device possible in no other commercial country. The Government fixed prices at which goods could be sold. This mediaeval device could be enforced only in a land where such State interference had been habitual, and, of course, could give to the notes the fictitious purchasing power only inside the country. After the Christian Science fashion, one had only to believe the notes were of value to make them so; but in the cold world outside German jurisdiction their value would be gauged by the chances of getting gold for them. Here, then, we find Germany in all the mazes of our ancient "greenbackism," but still in possession of a large stock of gold. As soon as the war ends she may be able to return to gold payments at an early date—very much as did France after the ordeal of the Franco-Prussian war of 1870-1871.

In the present war conditions, however, largely cut off from other countries, (except some small trade with Switzerland, Holland, Denmark, and the like,) all ordinary relations which would influence German credit and industry must be counted out. There is no comparison of her prices and money with those of other countries in a free market, or with even a limited transportation of exports and imports. All commercial measurements are suspended for the time. Trade and credit are holding their breath. How long can they do it? Germany may have food enough; but how long can the stoppage of industry go on?

Moreover, attention must be called to one momentous thing. We are seeing today, under military law, the greatest experiment in socialism ever witnessed. All wealth, income, industry, capital, and labor are in the direct control and use of a military State. Food, everything, may be taken and distributed in common. I think never before in history have we had such a gigantic, full-fledged illustration of socialism in actual operation.

In the meanwhile, even though food may be provided, the reduction of industry in general has cut incomes right and left. That is, fewer goods are produced and exchanged. But goods are the basis of all credit. The less the goods exchanged, the less the credit operations. Nevertheless, the extraordinary issues of banknotes, the increase of deposits, as a result of quintupling the loans, means that former commitments in goods and securities cannot be liquidated. That is, the enormous increase of bank liabilities, to a considerable and unknown percentage, is not supported by liquid assets. These assets are "canned." Will they keep sweet? There is no new business, no foreign trade, sufficient to take up old obligations and renew those which are unpayable. Lessened incomes mean lessened consumption and lessened demand for goods. Hence the credit system is based on an uncertain and insecure foundation, dependent wholly upon contingencies far in the future which may, or may not, take the non-liquid assets out of cold storage and give them their original value.

Moreover, apart from definite destruction of wealth and capital in the war—which must be enormous, as represented by the national loans—the losses from not doing business in all main industries during the whole period of the war (except in making war supplies) must be very great. As it affects the income and expenditure of the working classes, it may be roughly measured by the great numbers of unemployed. If they are used on public works, their income is made up from taxes on the wealth of others. Luxuries will disappear, and not be produced or imported. Incomes expressed in goods, or material satisfactions, have been diminished—which is of no serious consequence, if they cover the minimum of actual subsistence. The prolongation of the war will, then, depend on the ability to provide the supplies for war.

The need for a medium of exchange is oversupplied. The lack is in the goods to be exchanged. The enormous extension of German note issues does not, and can not, diminish. In this country the expansion of credit and money immediately after the war (manifested by the issue of Clearing House certificates and emergency banknotes) has been cleared away by liquidation. In Germany the "canned" assets behind the depreciated currency cannot be liquidated until the end of the war. And their worth at that time will depend much on the future course of the war and the terms of peace. If German territory should be overrun and the tangible forms of capital in factories and fixed capital be destroyed, much of the liquidation might be indefinitely prolonged. Whatever of foreign trade is permanently lost would also increase the difficulties.

In a great financial emergency nearly every country has, at one time or another, been tempted to confuse the monetary with the fiscal functions of the Treasury. To borrow by the issue of money seems to have a seductive charm hard to resist. Lloyd George established a new precedent for Great Britain by issuing nearly $200,000,000 of Government currency notes, but this was done to provide notes for the public instead of coin (L1 and 10s.) and made unnecessary any emergency issues by the Bank of England, and a large gold fund has been accumulated behind them so that they are convertible. In Germany it does not seem likely that the Treasury notes will be largely used (having increased from $16,500,000 to about $200,000,000) as a means of borrowing, since the new loans are being issued in terms of longer maturities.

J. LAURENCE LAUGHLIN.



LETTERS FROM WIVES

[By Cable to The New York Tribune.]

London, March 8.—Edward Page Gaston, an American business man long resident in London, has just returned from Belgium, and brought with him many sad and touching relics of the battlefields in that distressful country, chiefly from the neighborhood of Mons. These pathetic memorials include letters from wives, sweethearts, and friends at home and letters written by soldiers now dead and never posted.

Turning these letters over, one comes across such an expression as this: "I congratulate you on your promotion. It seems too good to be true. Good-bye and God bless you, dear. God keep you in health and bring you safely back."

Alas! the soldier who got that letter came back no way at all to his sweetheart or his friends.

"If you don't come back, what shall I do?" is the cry that comes from another woman's heart, and he did not come back.

Mr. Gaston is going to put himself into communication with the War Office with regard to the fate of the relics, and as far as possible, they will be sent to the rightful owners.



"WAR CHILDREN."

[Special Cable to THE NEW YORK TIMES.]

Paris, Feb. 24.—Professor Pinard of the Academy of Medicine contributes an article to the Matin showing that "war children" are stronger and healthier than their predecessors, and that France is rapidly repairing her battle losses.

An analysis of the Paris statistics for the last six months reveals a diminution of the death rate among mothers and children and a decrease in the number of children born dead.

Dr. Pinard further asserts that an extensive comparison of living children with those born earlier shows that the average weight of "war babies" is considerably higher than it used to be. This he considers due to the giving of natural instead of artificial nourishment by the mothers in consequence of the more serious attitude they take to their duty to the State.

This, says the professor, is one more instance of the spirit of regeneration animating France.



No Premature Peace For Russia

Proceedings at Opening of the Duma, Petrograd, Feb. 9, 1915

[From The London Times.]

PETROGRAD, Feb. 9.

The main impression left upon all who attended today's proceedings in the Duma may be summed up in a few words. The war has not shaken the determination of the Russian people to carry through the struggle to a victorious end.

Practically the whole House had assembled—the few vacant seats were due to death, chiefly on the field of battle—and the patriotic spirit permeating the proceedings was just as deeply emphasized as it was six months ago. The debates were several times interrupted by the singing of the National anthem, thunders of applause greeted the speeches of the President, the Premier, and the Foreign Minister, and the ovation to the British and French Ambassadors was, if anything, warmer and more enthusiastic than on the previous occasion.

I noticed that members applauded with special emphasis the words in which the President expressed his firm conviction that all efforts to disunite the Allies would prove fruitless.

In the course of his address the President eloquently and eulogistically referred to the role of Russia's allies in the present war. Speaking of England, he said:

Noble and mighty England, with all her strength, has come forward to defend the right. Her services to the common cause are great, their value inestimable. We believe in her and admire her steadfastness and valor.

The enemies of Russia have already frequently attempted to sow discord in these good and sincere relations, but such efforts are vain. The Russian truth-loving national soul, sensitive of any display of mendacity or insincerity, was able to sift the chaff from the wheat, and faith in our friends is unshaken. There is not a single cloud on the clear horizon of our lasting allied harmony. Heartfelt greetings to you, true friends, rulers of the waves and our companions in arms. May victory and glory go with you everywhere!

These remarks were constantly interrupted by outbursts of tremendous applause and by an ovation in honor of Sir George Buchanan, who bowed his acknowledgments.

Alluding to temperance reform, the orator fervently exclaimed:

Accept, great monarch, the lowly reverence of thy people. Thy people firmly believe that an end has been put for all eternity to this ancient curse.

The terrible war can not and must not end otherwise than victoriously for us and our allies. We will fight till our foes submit to the conditions and demands which the victors dictate to them. We are weary of the incessant brandishing of the sword, the menaces to Slavdom, and the obstacles to its natural growth. We will fight till the end, till we win a lasting peace worthy of the great sacrifices we have offered to our fatherland. In the name of our electorate, we here declare, "So wishes all Russia."

And you, brave warrior knights in the cold trenches, proudly bearing the standard of Russian imperialism, hearken to this national outburst. Your task is difficult. You are surrounded with trials and privations, but then you are Russian, for whom no obstacles exist.

A scene of indescribable enthusiasm ensued, the House rising and singing the national hymn.

The President's peroration was in part as follows:

The Premier, in the opening sentences of the speech which followed, said: "Our heroic army, the flower and the pride of Russia, strong as never before in its might, notwithstanding all its losses, grows and strengthens." He did not fail to remind his hearers that the war is yet far from ended, but he added that the Government, from the first, had soberly looked the danger in the face and frankly warned the country of the forthcoming sacrifices for the common cause and also for the strengthening of the mutual gravitation of the Slavonic races. He briefly referred to the Turkish defeat in the Caucasus as opening before the Russians a bright historical future on the shores of the Black Sea.

The Premier alluded to the tremendous change wrought in the national life by the abolition of the liquor traffic, which he designated a second serfdom vanishing at the behest of the Czar. After a few years of sober, persistent labor, we would no longer recognize Russia. The war had further raised the question of the creation in the world's markets of favorable conditions to the export of our agricultural products, and a general revision of conditions calculated hereafter to guarantee to Russia a healthy development on the principle of entire independence of Germany in all branches of the national life. In this direction the Government had already drafted and was preparing a series of elaborate measures. He concluded with the expression of his conviction that, if all fulfilled their duty in the spirit of profound devotion to the Emperor and of deep faith in the triumph of the country, the near future would open before us perhaps the best pages in Russian history.

The speeches of a peasant Deputy and a Polish representative were particularly impressive and well received. The Socialist leader's demand for peace called forth a smart rejoinder from a member of his own party.

M. SAZANOF'S SPEECH.

This afternoon the session of the Duma was opened in the presence of the whole Cabinet, the members of the Council of the Empire, the Diplomatic Corps, and the Senators. The public galleries were filled.

M. Sazanof began his speech by recalling that six months ago in that place he had explained why Russia, in face of the brutal attempt by Germany and Austria upon the independence of Serbia and Belgium, had been able to adopt no other course than to take up arms in defense of the rights of nations. Russia, standing closely united and admirably unanimous in her enthusiasm against an enemy which had offered provocation, did not remain isolated, because she was immediately supported by France and Great Britain and, soon afterward, by Japan.

Passing in review the events of the war, the Minister said that the valiant Russian troops, standing shoulder to shoulder with their allies, had secured fresh laurels for their crown of glory. The Russian arms were marching steadfastly toward their goal, assured of final victory against an enemy who, blinded by the hope of an easy victory, was making desperate efforts, having recourse to all kinds of subterfuges, even the distortion of the truth.

To the relations of good neighborliness, faithfully maintained by Russia, Germany had everywhere opposed resistance, seeking to embroil Russia with neighboring countries, especially those to which Russia was bound by important interests.

All this [continued M. Sazanof] is sufficient for us to judge the value of German statements regarding the alleged envelopment of Germany by the Triple Entente. Equally worthless are the assertions that it was not Germany who began the war, for irrefutable documents exist to prove the contrary. Among the malevolent German inventions figure reports of Jewish pogroms which the Russian troops are alleged to have organized. I seize this opportunity of speaking in the parliamentary tribune to deny this calumny categorically, for, if the Jewish population in the theatre of war is suffering, that is an inevitable evil, since the inhabitants of regions where hostilities are proceeding are always severely tried. Moreover, eyewitnesses are unanimous in stating that the greatest devastation in Poland is the work of the Germans and Austrians.

The German Ambassador in Washington has zealously spread these reports in the attempt to create in the United States a feeling hostile to us, but the good sense of the Americans has prevented them from falling into the clumsily laid snare. I hope that the good relations between Russia and America will not suffer from these German intrigues.

The "Orange Book" recently published proved that the events on the Bosporus which preceded the war with Turkey were the result of German treachery toward the Ottoman Empire, which invited German instructors and the mission of General Liman von Sanders, hoping to perfect its army with the object of assuring its independence against the Russian danger insinuated by Berlin. Germany, however, took advantage of this penetration into the Turkish Army to make that army a weapon in realizing her political plans.

All the acts of the Turks since the appearance of the Goeben in the Dardanelles had been committed under the pressure of Germany, but the efforts of the Turks to evade responsibility for these acts could not prevent them from falling into the abyss into which they were rolling. The events on the Russo-Turkish frontier, while covering Russian arms with fresh glory, will bring Russia nearer to the realization of the political and economic problems bound up with the question of Russia's access to the open sea.

Passing to the documents relating to reforms in Armenia recently distributed among members of the Duma, M. Sazanof said:

The Russian Government disinterestedly endeavored to alleviate the lot of the Armenians, and the Russo-Turkish agreement of Jan. 26, 1914, is a historical document in which Turkey recognizes the privileged position of Russia in the Armenian question. When the war ends this exclusive position of Russia will be employed by the Imperial Government in a direction favorable to the Armenian population. Having drawn the sword in the defense of Serbia, Russia is acting under the influence of her sentiments toward a sister nation whose grandeur of soul in the present war has closely riveted the two countries.

After referring with satisfaction to the gallantry of Montenegro in fighting as she was doing in the common cause, M. Sazanof proceeded to speak of Greece. The relations of Russia with this tried friend of Serbia, he said, were perfectly cordial, and the tendency of the Hellenic people to put an end to the sufferings of their co-religionists groaning under the Ottoman yoke had the entire sympathy of the Imperial Government.

Passing to Rumania, M. Sazanof said that the relations between Russia and Rumania retained the friendly character which they acquired on the occasion of the visit of the Czar to Constanza. The constant Russophile demonstrations in Bucharest and throughout the whole country during the Autumn had brought into relief the hostile feelings of the Rumanians toward Austria-Hungary. He continued:

You are probably waiting, gentlemen, for a reply to a question which interests the whole world, viz., the attitude of those non-combatant countries whose interests counsel them to embrace the cause of Russia and that of her allies. In effect, public opinion in these countries, responsive to all that is meant by the national ideal, has long since pronounced itself in this sense, but you will understand that I cannot go into this question very profoundly, seeing that the Governments of these countries, with which we enjoy friendly relations, have not yet taken a definite decision. Now, it is for them to arrive at this decision, for they alone will be responsible to their respective nations if they miss a favorable opportunity to realize their national aspirations.

I must also mention with sincere gratitude the services rendered to us by Italy and Spain in protecting our compatriots in enemy countries. I must also emphasize the care lavished by Sweden on Russian travelers who were the victims of German brutality. I hope that this fact will strengthen the relations of good neighborliness between Russia and Sweden, which we desire to see still more cordial than they are.

Referring to Russo-Persian relations, M. Sazonof said:

Before the war with Turkey, we succeeded in putting an end to the secular Turco-Persian quarrel by means of the delimitation of the Persian Gulf and Mount Ararat region, thanks to which we preserved for Persia a disputed territory with an area of almost 20,000 square versts, part of which the Turks had invaded. Since the war the Persian Government has declared its neutrality, but this has not prevented Germany, Austria, and Turkey from carrying on a propaganda with the object of gaining Persian sympathies. These intrigues have been particularly intense in Azerbaijan, where the Turks succeeded in attracting to their side some of the Kurds in that country. Afterward Ottoman troops, violating Persian neutrality, crossed the Persian frontier and, supported by Kurdish bands, penetrated the districts where our detachments were in cantonments and transformed Azerbaijan into a part of the Russo-Turkish theatre of war.

I must say in passing that the presence of our troops in Persia is in no way a violation of neutrality, for they were sent there some years ago with the object of maintaining order in our frontier territory, and preventing its invasion by the Turks, who wished to establish there an advantageous base of action against the Caucasus. The Persian Government, powerless to take effective action against this aggression, protested, but without success. I must state that Anglo-Russian relations in regard to Persian affairs are more than ever based on mutual and sincere confidence and co-operation, which are a guarantee of the pacific settlement of any eventual conflict.

Passing to the Far East, M. Sazanof said the agreements signed in 1907 and 1910 with Japan had borne fruit during the present war, for Japan was with them. She had driven the Germans from the Pacific Ocean, and had seized the German base of Kiao-chau. Although Japan did not sign the agreement of Aug. 23, yet, since the Anglo-Japanese alliance contained an undertaking that a separate peace should not be concluded, therefore the German Government could not hope for peace with Japan before she had concluded peace with Great Britain, Russia, and France. Consequently, their relations with Japan gave them a firm friend. The demands addressed by Japan to China contain nothing contrary to our interests.

As for Russo-Chinese interests, he could state their constant improvement. The pourparlers in regard to Mongolia, though slow, were friendly, and he hoped to be able to announce shortly the signature of a triple Russo-Chinese-Mongolian treaty, which, while safeguarding the interests of Russia, would not injure those of China.

In conclusion, M. Sazanof expressed the hope that the close union of all Russians around the throne, which had been manifested since the beginning of the war, would remain unchanged until the completion of the great national task.

Speakers of the Progressist, Octobrist, and Nationalist Centre Parties agreed that a premature peace would be a crime against their country and humanity, and that therefore Russia was prepared to make every sacrifice so that Germany might be definitely crushed.

At the end of the sitting the following resolution was unanimously adopted:

The Duma, saluting the glorious exploits of our soldiers, sends to the Russian Army and Navy a cordial greeting and to our allies an expression of sincere esteem and sympathy. It expresses its firm conviction that the great national and liberating objects of the present war will be achieved, and declares the inflexible determination of the Russian Nation to carry on the war until conditions shall have been imposed on the enemy assuring the peace of Europe and the restoration of right and justice.



TO THE VICTORS BELONG THE SPOILS!

By MADELEINE LUCETTE RYLEY.

[From King Albert's Book.]

The Victor true is he who conquers fear, Who knows no time save now—no place but here. Who counts no cost—who only plays the game. To him shall go the prize—Immortal Fame!

To the illustrious ruler and his gallant little nation, whose heroism and bravery are surely unparalleled in the whole of our world's history, I bow my head in respectful homage.



Lessons of the War to March Ninth

By Charles W. Eliot

President Emeritus of Harvard University.

CAMBRIDGE, Mass., March 9, 1915.

To the Editor of The New York Times:

The observant world has now had ample opportunity to establish certain conclusions about the new kind of war and its availability as means of adjusting satisfactorily international relations; and it seems desirable in the interest of durable peace in Europe that those conclusions should be accurately stated and kept in public view.

In the first place, the destructiveness of war waged on the scale and with the intensity which conscript armies, the new means of transportation and communication, the new artillery, the aeroplanes, the high explosives, and the continuity of the fighting on battle fronts of unexampled length, by night as well as by day, and in stormy and wintry as well as moderate weather, make possible, has proved to be beyond all power of computation, and could not have been imagined in advance. Never before has there been any approach to the vast killing and crippling of men, the destruction of all sorts of man's structures—buildings, bridges, viaducts, vessels, and docks—and the physical ruin of countless women and children. On the seas vessels and cargoes are sunk, instead of being carried into port as formerly.

Through the ravaging of immense areas of crop-producing lands, the driving away of the people that lived on them, and the dislocation of commerce, the food supplies for millions of non-combatants are so reduced that the rising generation in several countries is impaired on a scale never approached in any previous war.

In any country which becomes the seat of war an immense destruction of fixed capital is wrought; and at the same time the quick capital of all the combatants, accumulated during generations, is thrown into the furnace of war and consumed unproductively.

In consequence of the enormous size of the national armies and the withdrawal of the able-bodied men from productive industries, the industries and commerce of the whole world are seriously interrupted, whence widespread, incalculable losses to mankind.

These few months of war have emphasized the interdependence of nations the world over with a stress never before equaled. Neutral nations far removed from Europe have felt keenly the effects of the war on the industries and trades by which they live. Men see in this instance that whatever reduces the buying and consuming capacity of one nation will probably reduce also the producing and selling capacity of other nations; and that the gains of commerce and trade are normally mutual, and not one-sided.

All the contending nations have issued huge loans which will impose heavy burdens on future generations; and the yield of the first loans has already been spent or pledged. The first loan issued by the British Government was nearly twice the national debt of the United States; and it is supposed that its proceeds will be all spent before next Summer. Germany has already spent $1,600,000,000 since the war broke out—all unproductively and most of it for destruction. She will soon have to issue her second great loan. In short, the waste and ruin have been without precedent, the destruction of wealth has been enormous, and the resulting dislocations of finance, industries, and commerce will long afflict the coming generations in all the belligerent nations.

All the belligerent nations have already demonstrated that neither urban life, nor the factory system, nor yet corroding luxury has caused in them any physical or moral deterioration which interferes with their fighting capacity. The soldiers of these civilized peoples are just as ready for hand-to-hand encounters with cold steel as any barbarians or savages have ever been. The primitive combative instincts remain in full force and can be brought into play by all the belligerents with facility. The progress of the war should have removed any delusions on this subject which Germany, Austria-Hungary, or any one of the Allies may have entertained. The Belgians, a well-to-do town people, and the Serbians, a poor rural population, best illustrate this continuity of the martial qualities; for the Belgians faced overwhelming odds, and the Serbians have twice driven back large Austrian forces, although they have a transport by oxen only, an elementary commissariat, no medical or surgical supplies to speak of, and scanty munitions of war. On the other hand, the principal combatants have proved that with money enough they can all use effectively the new methods of war administration and the new implements for destruction. These facts suggest that the war might be much prolonged without yielding any results more decisive than those it has already yielded; indeed, that its most probable outcome is a stalemate—unless new combatants enter the field.

Fear of Russian invasion seemed at first to prompt Germany to war; but now Germany has amply demonstrated that she has no reason to look with any keen apprehension on possible Russian aggression upon her territory, and that her military organization is adequate for defense against any attack from any quarter. The military experience of the last seven months proves that the defense, by the temporary intrenchment method, has a great advantage over the attack; so that in future wars the aggressor will always be liable to find himself at a serious disadvantage, even if his victim is imperfectly prepared.

These same pregnant months have also proved that armies can be assembled and put into the field in effective condition in a much shorter time than has heretofore been supposed to be possible; provided there be plenty of money to meet the cost of equipment, transportation, and supplies. Hence, the advantages of maintaining huge active armies, ready for instant attack or defense, will hereafter be less considerable than they have been supposed to be—if the declaration of war by surprise, as in August last, can hereafter be prevented. These considerations, taken in connection with the probable inefficacy against modern artillery of elaborate fortifications, suggest the possibility of a reduction throughout Europe of the peace-footing armies. It is conceivable that the Swiss militia system should satisfy the future needs of most of the European States.