self-respecting, unconquerable spirit which does not strike until it is necessary to strike, and then strikes to conquer. . .

So my conception of America is a conception of infinite dignity, along with quiet, unquestionable power. I ask you to join with me in that conception, and let us all in our several spheres be soldiers together to realize it.

THE VIGIL OF ARMS

RALPH BARTON PERRY

[From one of the essays in The Free Man and the Soldier; copyrighted, 1916, by Charles Scribner's Sons. The essay first appeared in the New Republic for May 27, 1916.

Americans, from the beginning, have been averse to a large army in times of peace-partly on account of the expense, partly because it was thought unnecessary by reason of our isolated position, but largely from the vague fear that the army might, at some future day, be used as an instrument by some despot to crush popular liberty. The nation has always shuddered at the thought of the Man on Horseback. The coming of the great European war, however, brought home to Americans the importance of being prepared for the worst that may befall. Much thoughtful discussion has arisen. The article below advocates military service which shall not be militaristic according to Old World standards, but in keeping with the democratic spirit of the New World.]

Ir was thought appropriate that a man should pass the eve of his knighthood "bestowing himself in orisons and prayers." A knight should be a good knight, " a noble and gentle knight' -one dedicated to service and jealous of honor. Similarly a nation about to arm itself should confess its sins and renew allegiance to its ideals. It will not do to substitute for a code so exacting as that of chivalry, or a cause so clear as that of the crusades, a mere indeterminate vow of patriotism. Loyalty to one's country, unless one understands its policy and helps to mould it, is simply a renouncing of one's judgment. If we are to make training for military service a part of citizenship,

as I think we must, it is therefore important to adjust that duty to those ends that justify our national existence. In particular, how shall we be as strong as the hazard of war requires with the least prejudice to our peaceful pursuits and our constructive humane ends? It is the importance, here and now, of such a stock-taking and reckoning of cost that will justify, I hope, the rehearsal of familiar truisms.

The American army should be both dedicated to the service of democracy, and also itself an example of democracy. Democracy is on trial, as it has been many times before. A democratic government must be able to do what other governments do, namely, provide security against attack from abroad, and the necessary mechanism and organization by which the nation may exert its united strength when occasion requires. A democracy which relies for the execution of its policies on the indulgence or accidental interest of another nation is a confessed failure, whatever liberty of speech and thought it may enjoy in its domestic affairs. To prove that a democracy can maintain itself, protect the interests under its charge, and be as good as its word, is then the service which the armed force of a democracy owes to the cause of democracy.

If the army and navy are not to subvert the democracy for which they act, they must be democratic in their own internal spirit and organization, without loss of discipline. In a democratic army the officer and the private are comrades because, each doing something needful, they acknowledge one another's support in the common cause. The officer is not a person who enjoys privileges so much as one whose duties are more exacting and more responsible. He is less distinguished by his trappings than by his long hours. He is more bound than the private, who looks to him rather with gratitude than with envy. Responsible leadership and prompt concerted obedience are not undemocratic where they are pervaded by this understanding of the game, and the will to play one's part in it. They become undemocratic only when the difference

between officer and private coincides with more generally recognized social cleavages. To avoid this it is important that men of wealth and position should serve in the ranks, and that men who are favored only by their military experience and native fitness should rise from the ranks to command them. To the same end it is important that humiliating punishments should be avoided, and the authority of officers confined within clearly recognized bounds, so as to protect the self-respect of privates from the abuse or caprice of authority. In short, a democratic army must owe its discipline to morale and loyalty rather than to harshness and to fear. It is self-evident that there is most hope of fostering this spirit in an army of citizenship, conscious both of the equal dignity and of the common service which that rôle implies.

...

Whatever system of military service this country may adopt must be suited to our peculiar institutions and whatever we account indispensable to our national spirit. It has been argued that any military system is contrary to the genius of America. It is a misfortune that America is reputed to be a land where you can make money easily and do as you please. Those whom this repute brings to us are likely to feel abused when they find that success requires work, law, and taxes here as elsewhere. Compulsory military service is in principle contrary to no ideal save that of making bricks without straws, which is an illusion on which no national life can be founded. . . .

That which is most necessary in order to adapt military training to American life is that men should be, as in the Swiss system, withdrawn only for short periods from civil life. The function of war must always be regarded as subordinate to peaceful pursuits, in the life of the individual as well as in that of the nation. The citizen must be a non-combatant first and a soldier second. He must derive his tastes and standards from his family, economic, political or recreative associations, so as to prevent the development of dominance of a distinct military type.

It is essential to democracy that the civil authority should be superior to the military authority. This is provided for in our constitutional forms and is heartily seconded by public opinion. But it has been urged against compulsory service that it requires a man to fight in a war he deems unrighteous, and stops him from criticizing it. That any given individual should be free at all times to do as his conscience dictates is somewhat less possible in time of war than in time of peace. But the difference is only one of degree. Authority of any kind, civil or military, implies that individuals shall do under pressure what they would otherwise not do. If a man is unfortunate enough to be a conscientious nihilist or a conscientious polygamist, he will find himself constrained to act contrary to his own best judgment. He may have conscientious scruples against paying his taxes, or against educating his children. But the state will penalize his action without respecting his conscience; and if he incites to riot on behalf of his own peculiar ideals he may have to submit to martyrdom. It is in principle precisely the same situation which exists in time of war. If the nation is in fact at war, then the executive and military authorities must prosecute that war as effectively as they can under such laws or rules as may be best for their guidance. A citizen who does not approve of the war must bide his time. He has had his opportunity to influence national policy, and he will have it again. Meanwhile he must bear his share of the burden which the national exigency imposes. Whether he is a volunteer or a conscript will not matter much. He cannot expect to reserve liberty of action in the presence of the enemy. If his conscience is offended, so much the worse for his conscience. What he needs is a new conscience which will teach him to keep the faith with his fellows until such time as their common understanding and their controlling policy shall have been modified. The man who refuses to obey the law because he has been outvoted is more likely to be afflicted with peevishness or egotism than exalted by heroism.

THE ADVENTURE OF BEING HUMAN

ZONA GALE

[From an article in The Outlook.]

A WONDER of the day is that the social instinct the instinct for getting together for wholesome recreation and talk should for so long have been left to satisfy itself by chance and mischance. It has been left to the more idle folk in the community, and has become a silly passion or a stupid paying of obligation, or, for the young people, a stolen thing, subject to reproof and "correction." Only of late has the truth grown to recognition that the health of the community depends largely on the wholesome satisfaction of this wholesome need, and that the way to that satisfaction it is the province of the community to work out. And Social Centers have arisen. I have a friend who says:

When I saw the Oriental rugs of the professor of our new red brick high school building's wife, hanging on the line, I says to myself, 'No. Not that woman. I won't never vote for her for President of the Ladies' Aid. And while they was votin' that day I set over in one corner feelin' mean and thinkin', 'No.

She ain't one of us.'

You don't get no ballot out

66 And then the next mornin', while I was gettin' breakfast, she come walkin' acrost the yard between our houses, and she says:

666

"Oh, Mis Arthur, I'm makin' jonnycake, an' I can't tell whether you put in soda or baking powder. Which do you?'

66 And when I'd told her how, and she'd started back, I stood inside the screen door just looking after her. And I thought: "Why, my land! Underneath your Oriental rugs you was like that all the time! Why, you're folks.""

And once in a little town a team ran away, dashed across a trim lawn, overturned the latticed well-house, injured a young catalpa, and came to a standstill by a flower-bed. The house