T

HE experience of one nation, in proportion as it lays hold on the unchanging laws of human progress, is typical of all nations. The differences of conditions and times are differences mainly of means, not ends. Thus Professor Freeman* tells us that there is no lesson of political history that has not already been taught by ancient Greece. The same may be said of the history of the Jews, so far as the religious conditions of progress are concerned; whilst the legislative functions of government were all anticipated, in principle, by the ancient Romans. We may accept Mr. Froude's opinion that there cannot be a science of history; for history rests on incalculable forces dependent on free will; and yet Professor Freeman's theory that the main lines of history have already been lived over may be regarded as sound. Thus it is that the experience of other nations and remote times, as it is more unsophisticated and concrete, is valuable as guidance. Bacon says history maketh a wise man, and surely one thing taught us is this, that many of the patent cures for all human woes, which appear absolutely new in these newer times, have long been known.

These general considerations find special illustration in the Tsar's recent call of the nations to disarm and devote themselves to the pursuit of universal peace. This is no new thing; similar suggestions have been made before, as, for example, by Christ; and the desire for peace may not be inappropriately regarded as the unwritten charter of every similar proposal made at whatever time. Human nature, indeed, may be said to be a constant protest against any excessive measures which do not make for the consummation of peace and good will. So the Tsar's proposals have a double foundation in the past, viz., in the principles already proclaimed by thinkers and prophets and in human nature as such.

In the present article, however, we aim to study the significance of the general question connected with this recent reassertion of an old principle. question is: Is the world-aspect (the Weltanschauung, as the Germans call it) grow

* General Sketch of History."

3

The

ing more peaceful? and does the Tsar's suggestion afford a complete remedy of the conditions of which he, and all thoughtful men, complain?

Plainly, then, we have here a question of conditions and a proposed remedy.

I.

There are really two causes underlying the conditions which confront the Tsar, not one, as he ostensibly seems to believe; and to an investigation of these we must first devote ourselves.

The first is the one he mentions, viz., militarism. What is this system? Briefly, it consists of two things. One may be expressed as follows: science in the service of war. The marvellous progress of the physical sciences, in other words, is laid under contribution to improve the chemistry and physics of the engines of war. Defeat in war nowadays is equivalent to ignorance of science. The other part of the matter may be expressed thus: man in the service of science and war. Militarism regards war as the chief end of man; the warrior, not the saint, is the potential individual in each male human being. So that these two factors go to make up this new leviathan of the nineteenth century, which we call militarism: science in the service of war and man in the service of both.

Now the extent of this system is not generally understood by people in this country. It is largely the growth of the present century, and it is, undoubtedly, one of its greatest curses. I have not the latest statistics, but the arms of Russia (whence the peace proposals emanated) involve the employment of over 2,000,000 able-bodied men, fitted with the latest scientific weapons of war, and trained in all the complicated routine of modern armies and navies. In Germany, with her imperial ruler's motto "God and my sword," the system of militarism has been carried to its highest perfection, because it has been allied with sentiment as well as science; so that a German soldier or sailor represents not only a state of mechanical, but also a condition of ideal, completeness. The recent revelations connected with the Dreyfus affair show that practically the same thing prevails in France. The army is the principal force

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of the government, and the army is beyond question corrupt. The sale of secrets is, perhaps, under the system of militarism, the worst of all crimes. Nor must we think that England is beyond the influence of this condition. Conscription, it is true, does not prevail in England, but we know, by the recent votes of Parliament, that she is vying with Russia and France in maintaining both branches of the "service" and utilizes the best gifts of her scientists to perfect the means of defence both on sea and land. With an army in Russia of over 2,000,000 men; in Germany of over 2,000,000; in France of about the same figure; in England of over 500,000, including the reserves, the militia and volunteers and the marines- we can see the extent to which this spirit has already extended.*

We

But this only represents the statistical side of the matter. It is when we look into the evils of the system of militarism that we begin to see its true extent. take its influence, for example, in the government. In Russia it is well known that the Tsar's advisers are military men, i. e., they are men occupied with the details of the system which places the whole resource of the country in the service of war as the first consideration. Other matters are not neglected, but they are secondary to that matter. It is true that the Tsar is just now interested, as other nations are, in the great ethnological movements that are going on in different parts of the world. It is true that the Russians are themselves affording one of the most instructive illustrations of the migration of races, in the extension of the Russian population through Siberia to Manchuria. At the same time no diversion is allowed to interfere with the prosecution of the policy that keeps the army in the forefront as the sacred means of protecting territory, however acquired. In Germany this idea is explicit. The German Emperor openly declares on every suitable occasion that, as the head of the army, he places the reliance of government on the perfection of the discipline and the glory of the achievements of the army. But how the evils of militarism are mixed up in the more prac

*Russia's military strength is as follows:

Peace-footing
War-footing

Germany: Peace-footing

900,000

2,500,000

600,000

3,000,000

600,000

tical duties of government is best seen in France. Implicitly, France is under military rule. The constant change of its cabinet would not be possible unless this were so. If the army were not maintained there would be a state of revolution there at every "crisis," i. e., every six months or so.

Now I think it can be shown that more or less of corruption is always associated with this system, wherever it is in vogue, and that this extends to matters that are not purely matters for this service. M. Demolins tells us, for example, that in France the youth look forward, as the goal of existence, in education and social life, to preferment in army or navy, because the system of militarism fosters the spirit of dependence, or officialism, as we should call it. There can be no doubt, it seems to me, that this is the inevitable outcome, and the facts bear us out in it. For in those countries where militarism prevails, a sharp line is drawn between the offices which are in the gift of the government, and the unofficial classes; and more than this, the former are considered "superior" to the latter. This is the death of personal initiative, and the fruitful source of every species of official corruption. Its effect is to inspire unscrupulous and vainglorious men with inordinate ambition, a fact which most of the wars of recent times well illustrates.

But corruption, though it is the most obvious, is not the most deep-seated, evil of militarism. Implied in it, as an inevitable factor, is the reliance placed on force, not on reason. This is always what "the appeal to arms" means in nine cases out of ten. It means, in other words, that might shall make right. And it is one of the strongest condemnations of the arbitrament of war to observe how many times might has been the only reason for the movements of history. It was the might of Rome that conquered Greece, nothing else; for, as the Roman literati acknowledged, Rome was conquered in turn by Grecian art and philosophy, and this was a more wholesale victory than that. Of course, in times like our own, when science has been placed at the service of war, the situation is changed somewhat; but the inner principle of militarism is not changed. It still relies on physical force; on numbers; on bulk, or similar conceptions.

"Anglo-Saxon Superiority" in loc.

Militarism, in other words, is materialism organized for practical work. Traced to its ultimate philosophy it is the doctrine that matter and force are the only realities we know, the only realities upon which we can rely for progress and success. It is impossible within the limits of a brief article to discuss fully the postulates of this philosophy, beyond saying that it is absolutely opposed to morality and religion. Those who support the system of militarism are not aware of this fact. Crowned heads and politicians are rarely philosophers. If they are, they are often agnostic and therefore materialistic in tendency. The Tsar is not an irreligious man, but he is merely an individual and he desires peace; but the system which keeps his empire together is materialism in theory, as surely as that of France is. The German Emperor is a good Lutheran, but the German army is sceptical according to all good testimony. It would indeed cut the nerve of the system to admit that force is not higher than reason, and arms than arbitration. Reason represents to them variable opinion and word-chopping. Arbitration is the cowardly resort of shopkeepers like the English and American peoples.

This, then, is militarism and its attendant evils. And this is the condition which the Tsar sees most distinctly to be threatening the peace of the world at the present time. An interesting reflection occurs here which I may briefly mention before passing on. In view of the recent victory of the United States over Spain, which was almost entirely a victory of science over ignorance of science, are we threatened with an invasion of militarism? We have called for an increase of the army; and Secretary Long has made elaborate calculations pointing to a huge increase of our naval forces. Even if (and it is a low calculation) our standing force be just doubled, does this not portend, if our policy of imperialism succeeds, a rivalry between this country and Russia and France ? It is at any rate a possibility and constitutes one of the conditions of the general problem with which we are dealing. It should not be forgotten that it was whilst the Tsar was watching, with mixed feelings no doubt, our victories over the Spanish forces that he was inspired with a desire for universal peace. Had this resolution anything to do with the suspicion that the United

States had the makings of the most perfect system of military rule? Had it anything to do with the thought that in 1776, in 1812, in 1840, and in 1898, European nations met more than their match both on the battlefield and on the high seas? Time alone can tell.

But militarism is only one of the problems of universal peace. The other, which we will now briefly consider, is the rise of socialism. The Tsar no doubt fears socialism, because it is the most powerful. instrument of democracy against absolute monarchy, and also because he notices, in connection with the popular movements of his own empire, that all the progressive and successful nations, notably the AngloSaxons, are democracies. A few remarks, therefore, are called for on this subject before passing to the Tsar's proposed remedy for the present unrest.

It is highly difficult, if not entirely impossible, in the present state of science, to define socialism. Whilst the psychological formations of any system are still under investigation, it is premature to attempt to formulate doctrines. At the same time the system of socialism, as it prevails, is sufficiently concrete to allow us to expose its inner principle. Now, as militarism declares that science should be at the service of war, socialism declares, primarily, that science should be put to the service of the State. This is the first great contention of the socialists; government should be a scientific matter. And as economics, i. e., the production and distribution of commodities, is the principal affair of man, government's main business is the control of the entire production and distribution of wealth (in the sense of land, labor, and capital) in a scientific manner. The second proposition is that the entire use of a man is to be found in his service to the State. Dr. A. Schäffle* states that "the Alpha and Omega of socialism is the transformation of private and competing capitals into a united collective capital."

It is a somewhat strange phenomenon that socialism has had a growth almost synchronous with militarism. It is strongest in the country where militarism exists in the greatest perfection, i. e., Germany. Professor Ely tells us that in 1871 the socialists of Germany cast nearly 125,000 votes, which increased to 500,000 in 1877,

**Quintessence of Socialism,” p. 20.

+"Socialism and Social Reform," p. 56 ff., and Appendix IX, p. 387.

to 1,500,000 in 1890, and to 1,876,738 in 1893; that during this time, a little over twenty years, the socialist members rose from two to forty-four; and that the tendency is on the increase. Berlin alone in 1893 cast 151,122 votes and elected five members. They are splendidly educated and equipped, having thirty-one daily newspapers, forty-one weeklies, and fiftyfive trade journals. But France is also socialistic, having, according to the latest returns, nearly 1,000,000 votes representing the different shades of opinion. In four years, 1889-93, the vote increased 65 per cent. It will be seen that socialism took hold of France later than Germany, the uprising of the Paris Commune being only partially socialistic. But by 1880 it had obtained a firm foothold. In 1893 they elected fifty members, becoming thus, as in Germany, a great political party. The municipal council of Paris, like that of London, is socialistic. In England, which, next to Germany, is the country where socialism is strongest, we have to observe essentially the same phenomena. In England, however, the movement is more temperate than on the Continent, and its crystallization into a political party is later. In a quiet way the subject had been studied for years before 1893, when the Independent Labor Party was formed, with Mr. Keir Hardy at its head. The working men of England are deeply infected with the spirit and aims of socialism. It must not be supposed that other countries are exempt. You will find similar growth of sentiment and political influence in Denmark and Scandinavia and in Russia. In Russia there has been a violent propaganda carried on aiming at social reconstruction; but as popular agitation is forbidden, and as all the leaders of Russian socialism live in foreign countries, it has not taken such deep root as it has in Germany, France, and England. That is why the Tsar fears it; for he sees that the democracy has arrived and has a creed of its own, and that the great ethnological movement of the times, to which reference has already been made, is identified with the ideal of the socialistic state.

The figures above given will afford the reader some idea of the extent of socialism in Europe. In the United States we have the same features reproduced with this difference: that the movement in this country has been largely literary, though in 1893 the American Federation of Labor formu

lated a platform embodying the ideas for which wage-earners were invited to vote. But it is extremely difficult to say what strength socialism has in the United States.

Now, apart from the fear naturally felt by an absolute monarch like the Tzar at the rise of socialism, we cannot hide from our eyes the dangerous tendencies inherent in it in its extreme form. It is a form of tyranny which, in its way, makes for discontent and unrest just as much as militarism. Passing over its exaggerated optimism with reference to the future of the industrial state under socialism, must there not be danger in the exclusive domination of a single industrial principle? And, knowing human nature, must there not be a corresponding concentration of dissatisfaction on the part of those not comprehended in the adopted schemes? Besides, socialism is only half a truth at best; the other half, the doctrine of personal liberty, which it tends to deny or limit, is equally important. Socialism is a menace to liberty in so far as it places obstruction in the way of private initiative and voluntary sacrifice. And as understood by the great political parties in Germany and France, there can be no doubt that the form of tyranny which would prevail, if their schemes were carried out, would tend to revolution and unrest as much as the system of militarism. Even in the United States, the movement of democracy is not without its perils and evils. We have reason to rejoice, it is true, that socialism has so far been largely a literary matter; but the enormous vote cast for Mr. Bryan in the last presidential election is an ominous sign, showing that the popular will is likely to be even more radical in its judgment the next opportunity it has of expressing itself. There is no doubt, it would seem, that popular socialistic agitation also tends to the alienation of classes from one another; though it is the claim that the system of socialism is the only political and industrial theory that absolutely excludes it. So far, however, the number of strikes, lockouts, and the blackmailing, that has been associated with the history of socialism, is not reassuring to the earnest and high-minded laborer in the cause of humanity. No tyranny is so harsh as the tyranny of labor-organization, when it is separated from morality and religion. Indeed, we cannot probe

the system to any great extent without seeing that continental socialism is, like militarism, agnostic and materialistic. There are exceptions in the case of individual leaders, but the inner determin ing idea of State socialism is that numbers, bulk, votes, are the chief power, and this means in the last resort that material goods, not character, is the thing of ultimate value. And the result must be as the cause.

It should be noted that we are dealing with the present phases of militarism and socialism, and our explanations and criticisms have reference, exclusively, to the acute form these systems have assumed in the present day. It is with these phases, as acutely present in the immediate neighborhood of Russia, that the Tsar was dealing in his recent peace proposals. The evils he complains of are those which result from the excess of partisan and popular zeal -a zeal not according to knowledge at all times-and it is these we must keep in mind in turning now to his proposed remedy.. For no one supposes, as we shall see, that militarism and socialism can be got rid of by conferences or the devising of concerted legislation; if it were possible, it would have been done long ago by those who have arranged for and desired universal peace in the past.

II.

The remedy for these and similar evils must, in any case, be a very complicated one. We are, therefore, prepared to view the Tsar's proposals with suspicion. But let us look in an unprejudiced manner at them. In a single word he calls upon the nations to agree to disarm-this is the solution he offers for the undoubtedly acute state of feeling in the world to-day. And as he confines his suggestion to the system of militarism, we shall pay special attention to it in our examination of the proposed remedy.

The question is: Will disarmament bring the required peace? Our reply is that there are some things it will do and there are some things it will not do. In the first place, it would lessen the cost of government and enable rulers to devote themselves to the betterment of the social conditions of their subjects and citizens. It is impossible for us to even imagine the costliness of the system of militarism. Figures do not convey an adequate impression, because we are very liable to

intrude the personal factor as a standard of judgment. Most of us, for example, would be satisfied with $1500 steady income, but this would afford no clue of the cost of maintaining an army and navy for a single day. Our hearts would sink at the thought, perhaps, that in our recent war with Spain it cost our yearly income (desired income I mean) to fire off some of the single shells of our big guns. Even in times of "peace," when armies and navies are only rehearsing their parts, the cost is beyond clear conception. It is clear enough, however, to our understanding, that if the money, or even half of it, now expended by governments in maintaining and increasing their armies and navies, were diverted into channels whose outlets were the pockets of the people, both the cost of government and the outlook for peace would be accommodated. War is dear at any price, and the blessing of peace is like the pearl of great price: something that we should be willing to make almost any sacrifice in order to attain. The sacrifice of our expensive armaments would, if done in good faith, certainly hasten the millennium.

Again, an agreement to disarm, inasmuch as it would involve the reduction both of the influence and expense of government, would also tend to raise the standard of living. We have too much government, a fact which is not without serious consequences in practice. Social evils are a result and some of these are directly due to the infatuation of men for government, spelled with a large G. Who was it that said that there was not a law on the statute books of the United States through which a coach-and-four could not be driven? It is too much government that causes many of the perversions of law and justice among us. Even the Supreme Court of the United States is affected by the atomism which teaches that "law" is merely an arrangement of conflicting interests. It is a deplorable fact that banks are to an alarming extent infected by the same miasmatic creed. Too much government permits the election to office of men whose ambitions are only outstripped by their greed, whose object is not the social good of all, but spoils. The people, in consequence, are oppressed and are even prevented by legislation from engaging in legitimate business; are threatened with an increase of expenses in the form of duties if they persist.