Jan. 23.—The next great European war will be fought by soldiers who have nothing left to fight for but a national debt. It is quite evident to every one watching the progress of events that the only thing preventing a war at the present time is that none of the belligerent nations are prepared. It is also evident that they will not be fully prepared as long as they are able to borrow money or raise it by taxes in order to build Dreadnoughts and get on the best possible war footing. The great powers of diplomacy are being exerted solely to delay war until the preparations are complete, and they will doubtless delay it so long that the inevitable war will synchronise with a general bankruptcy of the nations. This will give the historians and poets of the future new matter to deal with, and as I speculate on the forthcoming war of universal bankruptcy my imagination is roused. How will the soldiers fight in such circumstances? Will they march into battle, singing:
"How can a man die better
Than facing fearful odds"
For the taxes of his fathers
And the Armour lobby frauds?
That doesn't sound very inspiring, does it? And yet I cannot think of anything else that would be so appropriate.
The article, "War against War," which I wrote some time ago in the Toronto Globe, brought me so many letters that I am impelled to deal with the subject again. Some letters approved entirely, while others were so delightfully sarcastic that I am tingling all over with the joy of battle. I have just read "Horatius at the Bridge" to put me in a vaunting mood, and if you find quotations from it bubbling to the surface you will know what is the matter. After all it may be quite timely to deal with the subject again. At the present writing it is rumoured that the naval bill will be up in Parliament before many days have passed.
"I wis that in the Senate
There was no heart so bold
But sore it ached and fast it beat
When that ill news was told."
It is not likely, however, that we shall have such a battle as raged all over the Hansard last year. It is quite certain that the two parties will be no nearer to agreement than they were a year ago, and that emboldens me to make a suggestion. Of course I do not expect it to be accepted at once, for when I read what editors and statesmen have to say on the subject I am afraid that Mr. Borden is fortified in his own opinions like Lars Porsena:
"There be thirty chosen prophets,
The wisest of the land,
Who alway by Lars Porsena
Both morn and evening stand:
And with one voice the Thirty
Have their glad answer given:
'Go forth, go forth, Lars Porsena;
Go forth, beloved of Heaven.'"
As neither party seems to have the power to put through its policy I venture to suggest an alternative. Instead of giving money or building a navy why should not Canada contribute thirty-five million dollars' worth of wheat? Wheat will be needed just as much as Dreadnoughts or ammunition. We have wheat. Why not give it?
It seems to me that this suggestion embodies all the good features of both policies and has a few good ones of its own. It would be as quickly effective in a case of emergency as a cash contribution, and the money would all be expended here in Canada. Of course, there is the question of Canadians fighting in their own defence, but I shall deal with that later. Now, think it over carefully before arriving at a conclusion. What would be the matter with a contribution of wheat, or, still better, of flour? The chief weakness of Great Britain at the present time is an underfed population. Reliable statistics show that in the British Islands there are over twelve millions of people who are below the hunger-line, who never know what it means to have enough to eat. By making it possible for these unfortunates to be strong and well nourished we should increase the fighting force of the empire by millions. Because no one in modern times has contributed to war funds in this way, the suggestion may seem novel, but in the brave days of old such contributions were frequent. The people gave what they had and gave what would do the most good. Moreover, there is a Canadian side to this suggestion that appeals to me. If our government undertook to buy thirty-five million dollars' worth of wheat, to mill it and ship the flour, they might learn things that would lead to far-reaching reforms. They might find out why Canadian flour is cheaper in London, England, than it is in Winnipeg, and they would learn all about our transportation problems and the shipping combine. Also they would get more reliable facts about the high cost of living than could be dug out by Royal Commissions in ten years. And practically all the war money would be spent with our own farmers, millers, and railways, and in that way would stimulate our basic home industries. Now, do not all speak at once. Stop and count thirty-five millions before scolding me for my wheat-giving suggestion.
As for doing our own fighting, I think every red-blooded Canadian is in favour of that. But we should not think of fighting except in self-defence. Those who would undertake our fighting should be men with a deep-rooted horror of war, who would be willing to fight to put an end to it. The great trouble with all the suggestions for warlike preparedness that I have seen is that they are full of the pride, pomp, and poppy-cock of old-fashioned war. There is no true glory in war. The killing of men, even in self-defence, is a hideous necessity at best. But if it must be done, let it be done without fuss and feathers. If we cannot be prepared for war without indulging in strutting and tinsel, there is something wrong. I think history will bear me out in the statement that the great fighters were men with a great purpose, rather than with elaborate training. Without referring to cases in recent history where embattled farmers—men without training and devoid of the love of glory—held in check the best trained troops, let us consider for a moment the "crop-eared boors" led by the brewer, Cromwell. Having a great purpose, they developed into the renowned Ironsides, perhaps the most efficient group of fighting men that England ever produced. Glory was no part of their creed, and if we should ever be compelled by aggression to put men in the field they should be men of that kind. I would have no criticism to make of military training if it taught men to fight only for the rights of humanity. Men should shudder when they think of war instead of bursting into song in praise of its horrible glories.