that we finally saw England as she really is.

"We hate with a clean conscience, although religion seems to condemn as unæsthetic everything that is included in the word hate.' The Pastor concludes by asserting that 'we, who are fighting for truth and right with clean hands and a clean conscience, must have Him on our side Who is stronger than the strongest battalions. Hence our courage and our confidence in a fortunate outcome of the world conflagration. The dawn will soon appear that announces that the Day of Harvest" for Germany has broken.'"

66

"The avowal that the love of good Germans for Germany is inseparable from hatred of other countries shows how deeply the aggressiveness of German

policy has sunk into the nation's mood,” says The Times. "Only by constantly viewing their own country as in a natural state of challenge to all others can Germans have come to absorb the view that hatred is the normal manifestation of patriotism. It is a purely militarist conception.

"Hate is at bottom a slavish passion, and remote from that heroic spirit of the warrior with which the Germans represent themselves as facing a world in arms. The hater subjects his mind to the domination of what he hates; he loses his independence and volition and becomes the prey of the hated idea. At last he cannot free his mind from the obsession; and the deliberate cultivation of hate in the conscientious German manner is a kind of mental suicide."

W

HETHER, O Father in Heaven, we
still put our trust in You,
Whether You are but a dream of a
sacred past,

See now, we swear to You, Witness of
Truth,

Not we have wanted it

This murder, this world-ending murder-
Which now, with blood-hot sighs,
Stamps o'er the shuddering earth.
True to the earth, the bread-giving earth,
Happy and cheery in business and trade,
Peaceful we sat in the oak tree's shade,
Peaceful,

Though we were born to the sword.

Circled around us, for ever and ever,

Greed, sick with envy, and nets lifted high, Full of inherited hatred.

Every one saw it, and every one felt

The secret venon, gushing forth,

Year after year,

Heavy and breath-bated years.

But hearts did not quiver

Nor hands draw the sword.

And then it came, the hour

Of sacred need, of pregnant Fate,
And what it brings forth, we will shape,
The brown gun in our mastering hand.

SUDERMANN.

Ye mothers, what ye once have borne, In honor or in vice,

Bring forth to every sacred shrineYour country's sacrifice.

Ye brides, whom future happiness,
Once kissed-it but seemed true,
Bring back to fair Germania
What she has given you.

Ye women, in silks or in linen,
Offer your husbands now.
Bid them goodbye, with your children,
With smiles and a blessing vow.

Ye all are doomed to lie sleepless,
Many a desolate night,

And dream of approaching conquests
And of your hero's might.

And dream of laurel and myrtle,

Until he shall return,

Till he, your master and shepherd, Shall make the old joys burn.

And if he fell on the Autumn heath
And fell deep into death,
He died for Germania's greatness,
He died for Germania's breath.

P

ROBABLY there have never been before in the whole past of mankind so many people convinced of the dreadfulness of war, nor so large a proportion anxious to end war, to rearrange the world's affairs so that this huge hideousness of hardship, suffering, destruction, and killing that still continues in Europe may never again be repeated.

The present writer is one of this great majority. He wants as far as possible to end war altogether, and contrive things so that when any unavoidable outbreak does occur it may be as little cruel and mischievous as it can be. But it is one thing to desire a thing and another thing to get it. It does not follow because this aspiration for worldpeace is almost universal that it will be realized. There may be faults in ourselves, unsuspected influences within us and without, that may be working to defeat our superficial sentiments. There must be not only a desire for peace, but a will for peace, if peace is to be established forever. If out of a hundred men ninety-nine desire peace and trouble no further, the one man over will arm himself and set up oppression and war again. Peace must be organized and maintained. This present monstrous catastrophe is the outcome of fortythree years of skillful, industrious, systematic world armament. Only by a disarmament as systematic, as skillful, and as devoted may we hope to achieve centuries of peace.

No apology is needed, therefore, for a discussion of the way in which peace

may be organized and established out of the settlement of this war. I am going to set out and estimate as carefully as I can the forces that make for a peace organization and the forces that make for war. I am going to do my best to diagnose the war disorder. I want to find out first for my own guidance, and then with a view to my co-operation with other pecple, what has to be done to prevent the continuation and recrudescence of warfare.

Such an inquiry is manifestly the necessary first stage in any world pacification. So manifestly that, of course, countless others are also setting to work upon it. It is a research. It is a research exactly like a scientific exploration. Each of us will probably get out a lot of truth and a considerable amount of error; the truth will be the same and the errors will confute and disperse each other. But it is clear that there is no simple panacea in this matter, and that only by intentness and persistence shall we disentangle a general conception of the road the peacedesiring multitude must follow.

Now, first be it noted that there is in every one a certain discord with regard to war. Every man is divided against himself. On the whole, most of us want peace. But hardly any one is without a lurking belligerence, a lurking admiration for the vivid impacts, the imaginative appeals of war. I am sitting down to write for the peace of the world, but immediately before I sat down to write I was reading the morning's paper, and particularly of the fight between the

Sydney and the Emden at Cocos Island.

I confess to the utmost satisfaction in the account of the smashing blows delivered by the guns of the Australian. There is a sensation of greatness, a beautiful tremendousness, in many of the crude facts of war; they excite in one a kind of vigorous exaltation; we have that destructive streak in us, and it is no good pretending that we have not; the first thing we must do for the peace of the world is to control that. And to control it one can do nothing more effective than to keep in mind the other side of the realities of war.

As my own corrective I have at hand certain letters from a very able woman doctor who returned last week from Calais. Lockjaw, gangrene, men tied with filthy rags and lying bitterly cold in coaly sheds; men unwounded, but so broken by the chill horrors of the Yser trenches as to be near demented-such things make the substance of her picture. One young officer talked to her rather dryly of the operations, of the ruined towns and villages, of the stench of dead men and horses, of the losses and wounds and mutilations among his men, of the list of pals he had lost. "Suddenly he began to cry. He broke down just like an overtaxed child. And he could not stop crying. He cried and cried, and I could do nothing to help him." He was a strong man and a brave man, and to that three months of war had brought him.

And then this again:

There were a fair number of Belgian doctors, but no nurses except the usual untrained French girls, almost no equipment, and no place for clean surgery. We heard of a house containing sixty-one men with no doctor or nurses-several died without having received any medical aid at all. Mrs. and I even on the following Wednesday found four men lying on straw in a shop with leg and foot wounds who had not been dressed since Friday and had never been seen by a doctor. In addition there were hundreds and hundreds of wounded who could walk trying to find shelter in some corner, besides the many unwounded French and Belgian soldiers quartered in the town.

As if this inferno of misery were not enough, there were added the refugees! These were not Belgians, as I had imagined, but French. It appears that both

English and French armies have to clear the civil population out of the whole fightand ing area-partly to prevent spying treachery, (which has been a curse to both armies,) and partly because they would starve. They are sent to Calais, and then by boat to Havre.

That first Sunday evening an endless procession flowed from the station to the quays in the drenching rain. Each family had a perambulator, (a surprisingly handsome one, too.) piled with sticks of bread, a few bundles of goods, and, when we peered inside, a couple of crying babies. There were few young people; mostly it was whimpering, frightened-looking children and wretched, bent old men and women. It seemed too bad to be true; even when they brushed past us in the rain we could not believe that their sodden figures were real. They were dematerialized by misery in some odd way.

Some of them slept in skating rinks, trucks, some in the Amiral Ganteaume. (One's senses could not realize that to the horrors of exile these people had added those of shipwreck next day.) Some certainly stood in the Booking Hall outside our hotel all night through. This sort of thing went on all the week, and was going on when we left.

Nevertheless, I was stirred agreeably by the imagination of the shells smashing the Emden and the men inside the Emden, and when I read the other day that the naval guns had destroyed over 4,000 men in the German trenches about Middlekirche I remarked that we were "doing well." It is only on the whole that we who want to end war hate and condemn war; we are constantly lapsing into fierceness, and if we forget this lurking bellicosity and admiration for hard blows in our own nature then we shall set about the task of making an end to it under hopelessly disabling misconceptions. We shall underrate and misunderstand altogether the very powerful forces that are against pacifist effort.

Let us consider first, then, the forces that are directly opposed to the pacification of the world, the forces that will work openly and definitely for the preservation of war as a human condition. And it has to be remembered that the forces that are for a thing are almost always more unified, more concentrated and effective than the forces that are against it. We who are against war and want to stop it are against it for a