One effect of the war, then, may be to substantiate monarchy for the time being, save in France, where I think it will create a bigger confidence in the Republic. In other words, if the Allies emerge with considerable success, conditions of government as they are will be strengthened, particularly in Russia.

A great deal has been written in the past about the tottering power of the monarchy in Russia. All of this has been mostly untrue, and certainly misleading. I can recall statements in print of the fear of the Tsar to appear before his people. This is not the truth. When I was in Petrograd he often came to visit me practically unattended, and whenever he has been counselled to take precaution he has adopted such measures only because he has thought it best for his country. He loves Russia; how much has been splendidly evident since the war broke out, and when all is over one effect will surely be that he will be all the more beloved by Russia. I see, too, as a result of his generous attitude the possibility of a resurrected Poland, whose populace will freely give suzerainty to Nicholas II. because they recognise amid all the riot and disaster of to-day that he is their friend.

Exaggerated statements have also been made that the Tsaritza fears assassination. The writers have based their reports no doubt on the fact that the Tsar’s grandfather met his death in this way, and they have no doubt assumed the fears of the present monarchs as a matter of course. The Empress is said visibly to tremble in public, but this is occasioned simply because she is unhappily a sufferer from timidity!

But what about Germany? Who shall dare to prophesy?

But more interesting than these things is the question of armament—or rather disarmament. Is the latter possible? Arbitration in council instead of the sword and the gun—shall we, any of us, live to see that dream come true? Democracy, and a world-wide development of a Hague Conference of the Powers—these are the hopes of those who think. Is it too near the Utopia of the Romanticists? Is it the impossible Millennium?

I do most honestly believe this will be the last big war; it will be a lesson to the wide world of the cost of fighting, the cost in lives, in comforts, in money. The English will surely feel this; they are fond of luxury. When I visited England I was impressed by the almost reckless extravagance of living; money did not count so long as entertainment was obtained; women seemed to have a careless disregard of all things save pleasure. I have wondered and marvelled at the way they have acted since war broke out; now no sacrifice is too great for them to make. Truly the English are remarkable; they are on the surface lovers of ease and lazy luxury, so as to seem almost degenerate. Yet, beneath it all, there is stamina, grit, the power to bear hardship, the spirit of the real adventurer. The war will do English social life good—for a time; but though for a little while the English will eschew gaiety perhaps—I mean the recklessly extravagant gaieties which were their wont—will their phlegmatic nature presently allow this disturbance to be forgotten and the old conditions to recur?

Sincerely I hope not. To end some of the senseless dissipations would be one of the best results of the war; there is no room in life for stupid extravagances, for heedless rushing after novel excitement. For English Society I hope the lesson will go too deep to be forgotten lightly. And I am interested too in the movement which is just now on foot in England to prohibit, or at least to curtail so extensive a sale of alcohol. An abstemious Europe would have made the war almost worth while. And why should it be impossible? France has closed down the sale of absinthe, Russia sells and consumes no more vodka. In England the evil is whisky.

But the question of disarmament: there is so much to hinder it. Each country has a different condition of things to consider; England, for instance, has never kept her army for her own insular needs; her army has been maintained to protect and uphold the ends of her Empire—and those needs will remain; how can she disarm altogether when India has to be considered, and while she has interests to defend, not against the great Powers, but against the native insurgent in so many parts of the world, it is vital to her—and the present crisis emphasises it beyond mistake—that the seas should be kept open, and were there no force behind that need she as well as her food supply would be at the mercy of any pirate. Similarly France has colonies which call for a guard by land and sea.

But the day of the big military power will surely pass with the defeat of Prussian militarism, and the nations should see to it that never again shall one country deliberately arm herself so as to be a menace to the world’s peace. Is it not possible that the great nations should have an amalgamated navy and army powerful enough to command peace from insurgents—to be a sort of world-wide police? Surely at some conference of the Powers a decision should be arrived at by which the boundaries and influence of nations could be fixed for all time, with due regard to the scope required for the natural development of the ambitions of each.

It is certain that there is enough territory in the world for the peoples of the earth; it is equally certain that the laws of supply and demand would balance and leave a reasonable living for all the people of the world if only economic conditions could be properly adjusted. I fancy that here lie the big problems of the future—not the conquering of one another by the force of sword and gun, but the equalisation of the possibilities of possession. There are too many men with big fortunes and too many homes with not sufficient income; on the face of it there should be a way to balance these discrepancies, and there the big thinkers and the students of political economy will step in. The ultimate destiny of the world, when this terrible war is over and done with, will rest upon the shoulders of those thinkers and economists, and upon the success of their efforts will depend the peace and happiness of our children’s children.