Chapter 8

If any nation is without excuse for entering into a mad rivalry with the belligerent nations in preparation for war it is the United States. We are protected on either side by thousands of miles of ocean, and this protection is worth more to us than any number of battleships. We have an additional protection in the fact--known to every one--that we have the men with whom to form an army of defense if we are ever attacked, and it is known also that we have the money, too--more money than we would have if the surplus earnings of the people had been invested in armament. We not only do not need additional preparation, but we are fortunate in not having it, as now it seems impossible for a nation to have what is called preparedness on slight notification.

The leading participants in the present war are the nations that were best prepared, and I fear it would have been difficult for us to keep out of this war if we had been as well prepared as they.

Happily for our nation, we have in the White House at this time a President who believes in setting the Old World an example instead of following the bad example which it has set in this matter. What an unspeakable misfortune it would have been if in such an hour as this the nation had been under the leadership of a President inflamed by the false philosophy which has plunged Europe into the abyss of war.

W.J. BRYAN.

HOW TO END THE WAR.

_The concluding argument of ex-Secretary Bryan for permanent peace among the great powers was published on June 18, 1915. The statement follows:_

Washington, June 18, 1915.

Having considered the war as it is and the injury which it does neutrals, and then the origin of the war and the causes which led up to it, we are now ready to make inquiry as to the way out--that is, the means by which hostilities can be brought to an end and permanent peace restored. To state in a sentence the propositions which I shall proceed to elaborate: Mediation is the means, provided by international agreement, through which the belligerent nations can be brought into conference; time for the investigation of all disputes is the means by which future wars can be averted, and the cultivation of international friendship is the means by which the desire for war can be rooted out.

What are the nations fighting about? No one seems to know, or if any one does know, he has not taken the public into his confidence. We have been told, in a general way, that the Allies are fighting against "militarism" and in defense of "popular government," and that Germany is fighting in defense of "German culture" and for the nation's right to "a place in the sun." But these generalities are so differently interpreted as not to convey a definite idea. When the President offered mediation at the very beginning of the struggle the answers which he received from the various rulers were so much alike that one telegram might have served for all. The substance of each answer was, "I did not want war and I am not to blame for the war that now exists." But that was ten months ago; the question now is not whether those in authority in the belligerent nations did or did not want war then; we may accept their answers as given in good faith, but the important question is still unanswered. "I did not want war" may have been deemed sufficient at the time the answers were given, but the real question is, "Do you want war now? If not, why not say so?"

The months have dragged their bloody length along--each more terrible than the month before--and yet the crimson line of battle sways to and fro, each movement marked by dreadful loss of life. While warriors die and widows weep, the sovereign rulers of the warring powers withhold the word that would stop the war. No Chief of State has yet said, "I do not want war." No one in authority has yet publicly declared his willingness to state the terms upon which his nation is ready to negotiate peace. Are not these dying men and these sorrowing women entitled to know definitely for what their nation is fighting? Is it territory? Then how much territory, and where is it located? Is it the avenging of a wrong done? Then how much more blood must be spilled to make atonement for the blood already shed? Some day accumulated suffering will reach its limit; some day the pent-up anguish which this war is causing will find a voice. Then, if not before, the rulers in the war zone will pause to listen to the stern question, "Why do we die?"--the question which shakes thrones and marks the furthermost limits of arbitrary power.

And is not the outside world entitled to know the price of peace? Must the neutrals bear the penalties which war necessarily visits upon them, and yet remain in ignorance as to the issues at stake? Their trade is interrupted, their citizens are drowned, they are the victims of stray bullets--have they no right to know what it is that, being done, will draw down the curtain of this dark tragedy? Has any nation a purpose for continuing this war which it does not dare to state to the world, or even to its own people?

Surely neither side thinks it can annihilate the other. Great nations cannot be exterminated--population cannot be wiped out by the sword. The combatants, even though the war may have made them heartless, will shrink from the task of carrying this slaughter beyond the point necessary to win a victory. And it must be remembered that war plans often miscarry. Predictions made at the beginning of the war have not been fulfilled. The British did not destroy the German fleet in a month, and Germany did not take Paris in two months, and the Russian Army did not eat Christmas dinner in Berlin. But even if extermination were possible, it would be a crime against civilization which no nation or group of nations could afford to commit. If it is vandalism to destroy the finest specimens of man's workmanship, is it not sacrilege to engage in the wholesale destruction of human beings--the supreme example of God's handiwork? We may find cases of seeming total depravity among individuals, but not in a nation or in a race. The future has use for the peoples now at war; they have a necessary part in that destiny which mankind must work out together regardless of these ebullitions of anger. The Lord might have made all flowers of one kind, of one color and alike in fragrance--but He did not. And because He did not, the world is more beautiful. Variety, not uniformity, is the law among men as well as among the flowers. The nations which are actively participating in this war are what they are because of struggles that have lasted for centuries. They differ in language, in institutions, in race characteristics, and in national history, but together they constitute a great living bouquet that is of surpassing beauty.

We may put aside, therefore, as wholly impracticable, if not inconceivable, the thought that this war can continue until one side has annihilated the other. What, then, can be the purpose? The complete domination of Europe by one nation or group of nations? The absurdity of such a plan is only second to the absurdity of the thought that either side can annihilate the other. The world is not looking for a master; the day of the despot is gone. The future will be gloomy indeed if the smaller nations must pass under the yoke of any power or combination of powers. The question is not who shall dictate on land, or who shall dominate upon the sea. These questions are not practical ones. The real question is, not how a few can lay burdens upon the rest, but how all can work together as comrades and brothers.

Even if it were possible for one side to force the other side to its knees in supplication, even if it were possible for one side to write the terms of the treaty in blood and compel the other side to sign it, face downward and prostrate on the ground, it could not afford to do so; and unless the belligerents have read history to no purpose, they will not desire to do so. Time and again some nation, boastful of its strength, has thought itself invincible, but the ruins of these mistaken and misguided nations line the pathway along which the masses have marched to higher ground. Despotism has in it the seeds of death; the spirit that leads a nation to aspire to a supremacy based on force is the spirit that destroys its hope of immortality. Only those who are unacquainted with the larger influences can place their sole reliance on the weapons used in physical warfare. They see only the things that are transient and ephemeral; they do not comprehend the higher truth that "the things that are seen are temporal; the things that are unseen are eternal."

Christian nations need to read again Christ's prayer upon the Cross, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." All the participants in this war have sinned enough to make them anxious to exhibit that forgiving spirit which is the measure of the forgiveness which can be claimed.

When can peace be restored? Any time--now, if the participants are really weary of this war and ready for it to end. If any nation is not ready, let its ruler state in clear, distinct, and definite terms the conditions upon which it is willing to agree to peace; then if an agreement is not reached the blame for the continuance of the war will be upon those who make unreasonable demands.

What can be done by the advocates of peace? First, they can crystallize the sentiment in favor of peace into a coercive force, for public opinion at last controls the world. There is a work which the neutrals can do; they can offer mediation, jointly or severally. It is not an act of hostility, but an act of friendship. The Hague Convention, to which all the Governments are parties, expressly declares that the offer of mediation shall not be considered an unfriendly act. The duty of offering mediation may seem to rest primarily upon the United States, the largest of the neutral nations, and the one most intimately bound by ties of blood to all the belligerents. The United States did make an offer immediately after the war began. But why not again and again and again, until our offer or some other offer is accepted? Why not stand at the door and knock, as we would at the door of a friend if we felt that the friend was in need and that we could render a service?

But our action or failure to act need not deter any other neutral country from acting. This is not a time to stand on ceremony; if any other country, for any reason, no matter what that reason may be, is in a better position than we to tender its good offices, it should not delay for a moment. It is for the belligerents to decide which offer, if any, they will accept. I am sure they will not complain if, following the promptings of our hearts, we beseech them to let us help them back to the paths of peace.

Will they object on the ground that they will not consent to any peace until they have assurances that it will be a permanent peace? That suggestion has been made--I think both sides have expressed a desire that the peace, when secured, shall be permanent--but who can give a pledge as to the future? If fear that the peace may not be permanent is given as the reason for refusal it is not a sufficient reason. While no one can stand surety for what may come, it is not difficult to adopt measures which will give far greater assurance of permanent peace than the world has ever known before.

Second--The treaty in which they join should provide for investigation by a permanent international commission of every dispute that may arise, no matter what its character or nature. The United States has already made thirty treaties embodying this principle, and these thirty treaties link our country to nearly three-quarters of all the inhabitants of the world. We have such a treaty in force between the United States and four of the countries now at war--Great Britain, France, Russia, and Italy. The principle of this treaty has been accepted by three other belligerents--Germany, Austria, and Belgium--although treaties with these nations have not yet been negotiated. These seven warring nations have indorsed the principle embodied in these treaties, namely, that there shall be no declaration of war or commencement of hostilities until the subject in dispute has been investigated by an international commission. Why cannot they apply the principle as between themselves? What cause of war is of such magnitude that nations can afford to commence shooting at each other before the cause is investigated? A treaty such as those which now protect the peace of the United States would give a year's time for investigation and report, and who doubts that a year's time would be sufficient to reach an amicable settlement of almost every difficulty?

Does any one suppose that the present war would have been begun if a year's time had been taken to investigate the dispute between Austria and Serbia? It will be remembered that Serbia had only twenty-four hours in which to reply, and it will also be remembered that during this brief time the rulers of the Old World endeavored to find a means of preventing war. If they had only had some machinery which they could have employed to avert war, how gladly would they have availed themselves of it! The machinery provided by treaty can be resorted to with honor--yes, with honor--no matter how high a sense of honor the nation has. The trouble has been that, while the nations were abundantly provided with machinery for conducting war, they possessed no machinery for the promotion of peace. A year's time allows passion to subside and reason to resume its sway. It allows man to act when he is calm instead of having to act when he is angry. When a man is angry he swaggers around and talks about what he can do, and he often overestimates his strength; when he is calm he considers what he ought to do. When he is angry he hears the rumbling of earthquakes and the sweep of the hurricane; when he is calm he listens to the still small voice of conscience.

Third--While the period of investigation provided for in our treaties will go far toward preventing war, still even a year's deliberation does not give complete protection. In order to secure the investigation of all questions without exception it was necessary to reserve to the contracting parties liberty of action at the conclusion of the investigation. War is thus reduced from a probability to a mere possibility, and this is an immeasurable advance; but the assurance of permanent peace cannot be given until the desire for war is eradicated from the human heart. Compulsory periods of investigation supply the machinery by which nations can maintain peace with honor if they so desire; but the final work of the advocates of peace is educational--it is the cultivation of the spirit of brotherhood condensed into the commandment "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." Is it impossible to imagine a civilization in which greatness will be measured by service and in which the rivalry will be a rivalry in doing good? No one doubts that the lot of each member of society would be infinitely better under such conditions; why not strive to bring about such conditions? Is it visionary to hope and labor for this end? "Where there is no vision the people perish." It is a "death grapple in the darkness 'twixt old systems and the Word." The old system has broken down; it can let loose the furies, but it cannot bind them; it is impotent to save. The question is not whether the Word will triumph--that is certain--but when? And after what sufferings?

Thomas Carlyle, his voice rising clear and strong above the babble of Mammon, asked, in the closing chapters of his French Revolution:

"Hast thou considered how Thought is stronger than Artillery Parks, and (were it fifty years after death and martyrdom, or were it two thousand years) writes and unwrites Acts of Parliament, removes mountains, models the World like soft clay? Also how the beginning of all Thought worth the name is Love."

The truth which he uttered is still truth, and no matter who uttered it, the thought is the thought of Him who spake as never man spake; who was described in prophecy as the Prince of Peace; whose coming was greeted with the song of "Peace on earth; good-will to men," and whose teachings, when applied, will usher in the enduring peace of a universal brotherhood.

W.J. BRYAN.

Bryan, Idealist and Average Man

By Charles Willis Thompson

The subjoined estimate of William J. Bryan's character and public career, which appeared in THE NEW YORK TIMES of June 9, 1915, is by the hand of one of its staff writers who has specialized in American national politics.

The plain man of the prairie became Secretary of State when William J. Bryan did; the prairie then entered diplomacy, international controversy. The secret of all that has puzzled the land in his behavior lies in that fact. His hold on the West lies in the fact that he is in himself the average man of that country, with that man's ideals, aspirations, defects, and drawbacks. There seems nothing strange or funny in a Secretary of State who goes to New York and signs temperance pledges, or holds Billy Sunday's platform in Philadelphia, when you get a few miles away from the cities; and if it seems a little queer to New York to find the Secretary of State undertaking to demolish the Darwinian theory, there are plenty of regions where the Darwinian theory is regarded as a device of the devil to upset the Mosaic cosmogony. Chesterton says that Dickens never wrote down to the mob, because he was himself the mob; and Bryan never talked down to the men of the prairie for the same reason.

He is not a man of culture, nor of reading. He has been around the world, but when he came back the books and articles he wrote were such as might have been published as guide books or in encyclopedias; he could have written them without leaving home. Travel had no broadening or polishing effect upon his mind.

The vast influence he still has is due to the fact that the common man, with all his mistakes and gaucheries, speaks in him, and that when the common man hears his own thoughts spoken in Bryan's voice he knows that the accent is sincere. Bryan may have taken up this or that particular issue because it sounded like a vote-maker, but none of them represented the least divergence from his course as a whole, which has always been honestly bent in a certain plain direction. He never hesitated to be in a minority and never dodged a fight. He is an innocent theorist, who frequently goes wrong because of the simplicity of his mental processes; but he acts upon his theories, right or wrong, with an intrepidity and a whole-hearted courage in which the ordinary man sees the qualities he himself would like to have, and dreams he has. His mind is not broad, but it is strong; he is always sure he is right, and always ready to fight for his beliefs, and he keeps his hold upon his followers because he is not below them, and not much above them, and because they know he is honest and sincere.

In 1906, the Democratic Party, picking itself out of the wreckage of Parker's defeat, was yearning to reunite. "Big business," assaulted and bruised and banged about by President Roosevelt, was ready to come into line. Roosevelt or his candidate could be defeated in 1908 only by Democratic harmony. Bryan was abroad, traveling, and somehow his distant figure looked less appalling than the near-by figure in the White House. The East did not ask him to recant his radicalism, but only not to talk about it. He arrived in New York, and business went to hear him make a harmony speech. If he made it, business would support him for President. He made the speech; he declared for Government ownership of railroads. Business, roaring with pain, fell back into the Republican arms, and Bryan was defeated for President. No, Bryan is not an opportunist--not in things that really matter.

William Bayard Hale once accurately described him as "essentially a preacher, a high-class exhorter, a glorified circuit rider." There are vast spaces of our country still populated by men and women of the old-fashioned kind; Chesterton describes them as "full of stale culture and ancestral simplicity." They are the descendants of the Puritans--intellectually, at any rate--they look askance on cards, dancing, and the stage; they are the kind of folks who peopled the Mississippi Valley in Lincoln's day and Massachusetts in John Hancock's. Bryan does not talk down to that type for votes; he is that type. Colonel George Harvey, with sarcastic intent, alleged that Bryan became a white-ribboner after hearing a little girl recite "The Lips That Touch Liquor Shall Never Touch Mine." There are regions which would accept that parable as Gospel truth, and much to Bryan's credit.

Salem, Ill., is a little town which fairly shrieks at you its pre-eminence as a picture of that type. As you pass through its orderly little streets, with its little frame houses, all of the same kind and all neat and unassuming, with its dirt roads and its typical Town Hall, set correctly back behind a correct little patch of grass in a neat square, you feel instinctively that the Darwinian theory must be avoided in your Salem conversation. You know at once that the same families have lived there for generations. So they have; one of them was Bryan's, and he was born there on March 19, 1860.

Of course, he was the valedictorian of his class--Illinois College, 1881. Of course, he became a lawyer; and, of course, in the Middle West, that involved politics. He lived now in Lincoln, Neb., in a Republican district, but he was a Democrat. There was a landslide in 1890. The whole country went Democratic, and many a forlorn hope leader in some hide-bound Republican district was swept into Congress, Bryan among them. He made a great speech on the tariff, which won him instantly a national reputation; but Lincoln had recovered its Republican poise, and he did not go back to Congress. He added to his reputation in his own State, however, as editor of its chief Democratic organ, The Omaha World-Herald, and went to Chicago as the head of its delegation to the National Convention of 1896.

At a moment when David B. Hill's masterly presentation of the gold-standard case and Tillman's failure in his effort at rejoinder had thrown a wet blanket over the silverites, Bryan came forward with his "Cross of Gold" speech. The cheering delegations carried him around the hall on their shoulders. None of the candidates before the convention was dominating or really of Presidential size; the convention was deadlocked for many ballots, and at last it turned to Bryan and nominated him.

His defeat by McKinley really marked the beginning of his career as a national leader. Despite the accident which had made him the Democracy's nominal leader, he demonstrated that he was the ablest of the radicals into whose hands it had fallen, and his nominal chieftainship became a real one. It was evident from the beginning that he would be renominated in 1900. When the Spanish war broke out he offered his services and became Colonel of the Third Nebraska Regiment. The Republican Administration was taking no chances on his getting any military glory, and it marooned him in Florida till after the war. He returned good for evil by going to Washington, uniform and all, and dragooning reluctant Democratic Senators into voting for the treaty with Spain whereby we acquired the Philippines. This was one of his incidental opportunisms; he believed it would give the Democrats a winning issue, that of imperialism. The cast of Bryan's mind is such that he always gets his winning issues on wrong end foremost; it gave the Republicans a winning issue, that of imperialism.