There is only one other way. Let the two rival Powers on whom the peace of the world depends settle their difficulties—surely the earth must be big enough for both!—and then as one would gently but firmly take away from a small boy his too destructive toy rifle, spike the guns and scuttle the ships, their own and all the rest, leaving to some unambitious and neutral power the prosaic task of policing the world. Here is a work for red blood and national self-consciousness. If war were ever needed for man’s best development, other things will answer now. The torn bodies and desolated homes of millions of men have paid the price demanded. No imaged hell can surpass the unnamed horrors that our fathers braved.
“Enforced disarmament!” Why not? Force (and public opinion) have abolished private duels. Why not national duels as well? Civilization’s control of savagery always begins with compulsion. For a generation, no first-class power has had home experience in a serious armed conflict. We should not willingly contemplate such experience now. We have too much to do in the world to fight.
The writer has felt some hesitancy in letting these words stand as the conclusion of a book on flying machines: but as with the old Roman who terminated every oration with a defiance of Carthage, the conviction prevails that no other question of the day is of comparable importance; and on a matter of overwhelming consequence like this no word can ever be out of place. The five chief powers spent for war purposes (officially, as Professor Johnson puts it, for the “preservation of peace”) about $1,000,000,000 in the year 1908. In the worst period of the Napoleonic operations the French military and naval budget was less than $100,000,000 annually. Great Britain, on the present peace footing, is spending for armament more rapidly than from 1793 to 1815. The gigantic “War of the Spanish Succession” (which changed the map of Europe) cost England less than a present year’s military expenditure. Since the types for these pages have been set, the promise of international peace has been distinctly strengthened. President Taft has suggested that as, first, questions of individual privilege, and, finally, even those of individual honor, have been by common consent submitted to adjudication, so also may those so-called “issues involving national honor” be disposed of without dishonor by international arbitration. Sir Edward Grey, who does not hesitate to say that increase of armaments may end in the destruction of civilization unless stopped by revolt of the masses against the increasing burdens of taxation, has electrified Europe by his reception of the Taft pronouncement. England and the United States rule one-third the inhabitants of the earth. It is true that a defensive alliance might be more advantageous to the former and disagreeably entangling to the latter; but a binding treaty of arbitration between these powers would nevertheless be a worthy climax to our present era. And if it led to alliance against a third nation which had refused to arbitrate (led—as Sir Edward Grey suggests—by the logic of events and not by subterranean device) would not such be the fitting and conclusive outcome?
The Taft-Grey program—one would wish to call it that—has had all reputable endorsement; in England, no factional opposition may be expected. Our own jingoes are strangely silent. Mr. Dillon’s fear that compulsory disarmament would militate against the weaker nations is offset by the hearty adherence of Denmark. A resolution in favor of the establishment of an international police force has passed the House of Commons by a heavy majority. It looks now as if we might hope before long to re-date our centuries. We have had Olympiads and Years of Rome, B.C. and A.D. Perhaps next the dream of thoughtful men may find its realization in the new (and, we may hope, English) prefix, Y.P.—Year of Peace.
Footnotes
[1.] According to press reports, temporary water ballast will be taken on during the daytime, to offset the ascensional effect of the hot sun on the envelope.
[2.] The contestants for the Ryan prize of $10,000 were Moisant, Count de Lesseps, and Grahame-White. Owing to bad weather, there was no general participation in the preliminary qualifying events, and some question exists as to whether such qualification was not tacitly waived; particularly in view of the fact that the prize was awarded to the technically unqualified competitor, Mr. Moisant, who made the fastest time. This award was challenged by Mr. Grahame-White, and upon review by the International Aeronautic Federation the prize was given to de Lesseps, the slowest of the contestants, Grahame-White being disqualified for having fouled a pylon at the start. This gentleman has again appealed the case, and a final decision cannot be expected before the meeting of the Federation in October, 1911.
[3.] The high wind velocities of the southern circumpolar regions may be an insurmountable obstacle in the Antarctic. Yet Mawson expects to take with him a 2-passenger monoplane having a 180-mile radius of action on the expedition proposed for this year.