“What I really mean is this; if Switzerland, which is a republic, governed, as far as I can judge, more democratically even than our United States, could establish its claim to its run-away land and introduce the same form of government in the army-swamped countries of Europe,—in Germany, France and Austria,—think what a blessing it would be!”
“The time will come,” said the Professor, “when there will be the United States of Europe. Militarism foments national jealousies, but the common people cherish no hatreds. Our little Switzerland was originally just as much divided against itself as Germany and France would be if Fate should suddenly amalgamate them. Germany seized Alsace, and, when I was in Strassbourg not long ago, I noticed that all the men at the market wore knots of black ribbon: that was in token of mourning, because they had been torn from France. But if there were the United States of Europe all that commemoration of hard feelings would vanish. Napoleon was eagle-eyed and prophetic enough to foresee what was coming; he would have made Europe one grand empire, but one grand empire would have been the next step to one grand republic, just as the trusts foreshadow government ownership. Think what would be the saving in what you call ‘dollars and cents’ alone, if the rivalry in military expenditure could be stopped. It would free billions and billions to make perfect roads, to do away with slums, to educate the masses, to cure the disease of intemperance, as well as other curable diseases. It is coming as sure as Fate. We already see the rosy light of its rising on the highest mountain-tops—the sun of democracy touches the edge of the horizon.”
“That is fine,” said I. “Yes, the people are waking to their birthrights. Not long ago I was asked to address a large audience of Russian Jews gathered to do honour to Count Tolstoï. I said the time would come when, instead of the Emperor of Russia and the Emperor of Germany commanding several millions of peasants torn from their homes to fight with one another for some cause in which they had not the slightest interest, and naturally friendly, these same millions of men would suddenly reverse the current; if there was to be a fight, they would stand round in a vast circle and let the two emperors settle it in the arena just as David fought with Goliath,—perhaps by a discussion, and not by swords and slings or pistols,—and it would be settled just as equitably as if thousands of men and thousands of horses were killed and horribly maimed.”
“The possibility of men of rival nations working side by side has been shown again and again. I have been recently reading about the battle of Zürich, where Masséna defeated the Russians and Austrians. Russians and Austrians fought side by side. A juggle would have set Austrians and Russians fighting one another. Hitherto they have been only pawns, but the new game of chess makes the united pawns more powerful than kings, queens and bishops.”
“That reminds me of the prediction made by the young Marquis de Pezay, author of ‘Zèles au Bain,’ who in 1771 came to Switzerland and published his ‘Soirées Helvétiques’ full of odd apostrophes—‘Peoples, whom I am about to visit, good Swiss, shut not your gates to my passage!’ He did not altogether like the mountains, though he called them sublime and immense—‘colosses d’albâtres’—and he said that they would some day be cut down and practicable roads would be put through, ‘so as to make the nations sisters.’ He made fun of the militarism of the Bernese, though he himself was an officer in the French army. He said: ‘When universal peace comes about we shall see bloody partizans exchanged for useful basins,’—if that is what he means by bâches salutaires,—‘the ruinous revêtements of our citadels will look down only on wide canals navigable and well-supplied with fish, and gunpowder will not be exploded in the air except to blow up rocks or celebrate the festivals of pacific kings.’”
“So is that fine,” said the Professor. “But speaking of the Russians and the Austrians fighting side by side—that was a masterly retreat which Suvórof made over the mountains. I do not know which to admire most, Hannibal in taking his elephants across the Alps from the Rhône to the Po, or the Russian field-marshal extricating himself from the cul de sac into which his obstinacy had entrapped him.”
“That is odd!” I exclaimed. “I have just been reading about Hannibal in Polybius and Livy, but I have forgotten if I ever knew the exact facts about Suvórof.”
“I will tell you about it,” said the Professor, “if you would like to hear it.”
“Indeed I would.”