"I am glad to see you, Nancarrow," said the Professor. "Oxford has been a strange city to me these last few weeks; even here, in my den, I cannot get away from the strife and turmoil. Tell me what you have been doing, and how you have been getting on."
"I have been like one in an enemy's country," was the young fellow's reply, and then he briefly told him what had taken place.
"The thing that troubles me," said the Professor, "is the utter failure of Christianity. All our old ideas seem to have gone by the board. Even many of my Quaker friends have got the war spirit and are no longer sane. It is true we have placards all over the town calling us to prayer, but as far as Christianity is concerned it seems as dead as Queen Anne."
"Then what is your attitude?" asked Bob.
A few minutes later the Professor was explaining the beliefs which he had for long held so strongly, and Bob listened greedily. He spoke not only of the horror of war, but of its unrighteousness and of its futility.
"We talk about the country going into war for the sake of honour," he said warmly. "But has there ever been a war in which we have not made the same plea, and how much honour has there been in it all? What honour was there in the Boer War? What honour has there been in half the wars we have made? In the main it has all been a miserable game of grab. How much was the Founder of Christianity considered when we bombarded Alexandria? How much of the Sermon on the Mount was considered when we went to war with those Boer farmers?"
"Yes, yes, I know," replied Bob. "But isn't this war different? I am not thinking now of the righteousness or unrighteousness of many of the wars of the past; the thing which troubles me is just this: Is it ever right to go to war? Can a nation, according to Christian principles, draw the sword? Mind you, I have gone into this business as carefully as I have been able. I have read everything that I can get hold of which bears on it, and I cannot close my eyes to the fact that as far as justice and righteousness go we are in the right. I have but little doubt that the Kaiser is playing his own game; he wants some of the French Colonies, he also wants to extend his power in Asia Minor. In order to do this he has for years been perfecting his army and strengthening his navy. But here is the question: Can a nation like England, according to Christian principles, engage in a bloody war in order to crush any one or anything?"
"Impossible!" cried the Professor.
"Then, according to you," went on Bob, "the Kaiser should be allowed to work his will without protest? He should be allowed to crush France, to violate his promises to Belgium, and to carry out his purposes, whatever they may be, without resistance on our part."
"I do not say that," replied the Professor. "I only say that war is never a remedy, and that by trusting in the sword we only add wrong to wrong, and thus keep back the day of universal brotherhood. Think what this war has done, even although it has scarcely begun. It has destroyed the good work of centuries. A few months ago, we in England had only kind feelings towards the Germans. We regarded them as friends. We spoke of them as a great Protestant people. To-day, the bitterness and hatred of all England is roused against them. On every hand the Germans are being distrusted and abused. Think what this means? It has put back the clock of Christianity, it has aroused hatred instead of love, and the whole country is being carried off its feet by militarism. Even from the pulpit has gone forth the cry of battle. Militarism has overwhelmed Calvary, and Christ and all that He stood for have been swept away amidst the clash of arms."