to devour human victims to satiety, nor cure Dr. Crippens of their penchant for murder and mutilation by granting them entire immunity. On the contrary, the man-eaters are shot, the Crippens are hanged. There may be honourable and noble men in Germany, but the nation as a whole has elected deliberately to identify itself with its rulers' and soldiers' crimes. It has celebrated the sinking of the Lusitania by striking medals, which remind mankind of the medals struck to commemorate the Massacre of St. Bartholomew; it has behaved with ghoulish savagery to our wounded and sick. It has called for more bloodthirsty and murderous Zeppelin and submarine outrages. Sir James Stephen, a criminal judge of extraordinary insight and experience, has said: The fact that the world contains an appreciable number of wretches who ought to be exterminated without mercy when an opportunity occurs is not quite so generally understood as it ought to be." And as among men there are Palmers and Crippens, so among nations there are Germanys. We cannot exterminate her; we do not propose to do so. But, until she repents and gives tangible evidence of repentance, there can be no possibility of a lasting peace in Europe. The true idealist is he who faces this grim fact, and not he who ignores it. For it is very much simpler and involves less intellectual effort to assume that men's minds will suddenly be transmuted thar to endeavour to attain a desired and not ignoble end by gradually perfecting the existing machinery and nature of man. Only when Germany learns by suffering that treachery, violence, and murder (by which I mean deliberate infraction of the laws of war, as they have been recognized by the civilized nations in the past, and as they were recognized by Japan and Russia in 1904-1905) bring down upon her severe punishment will she change her heart. As the Greek poet said, " suffering means wisdom."

The treatment of conscientious objectors is a point requiring careful thought. From the standpoint of the community they are bad citizens, denying the first and most obvious duty of the citizen to defend his country. Even where their objection is truly conscientious-and we cannot feel that it is in a very large number of cases-freedom, as Dr. Temple points out, rests upon law, and law rests upon the willingness of the citizen to fight for it and enforce it. "Frequent law-breaking and the contempt for law resulting from it is the way to chaos . . . disastrous to society." The man who breaks the law because of his conscience has no right to claim exemption from any penalties that may be imposed. Either the law is right or it is wrong. If it is wrong the State has no business to enact it; if it is right the State ought unhesitatingly and unswervingly to carry it out, especially where its very existence depends on it.

As a matter of fact the British State treats the conscientious

objector as though he were a hero and a particularly fine fellow. He is loaded with exceptional privileges. The ordinary soldier who disobeys flagrantly, or shows cowardice or malingers, is punished with death. There is no make-believe about the punishment; without it no army could exist. The ordinary soldier has to face intense discomfort, exceeding peril, and, if he does his duty, the constant risk of wounds and death. "War," said Tolstoy in his earlier and nobler days, "is for man the most agonizing sacrifice of his freedom to the laws of God." The conscientious objector's life is safe. He is not sent to the front. He will not risk his skin in mine-sweeping, where he would not kill, but protect his countrymen. He is not exposed to the enemy's fire. He often refuses even to put on uniform, and throws himself about on the floor like an idiot or a lunatic. He is not required to obey. All military rules and laws are swept aside to let him do what he likes. Officers' time is wasted in trying him for offences, and when he is convicted he is not punished. The worst that he has to fear is confinement in a civil prison-never for a long term-while he receives ninepence a day from the taxpayer for being disloyal to the State and insubordinate, rations much more appetizing than those of the ordinary soldier in billets, and practical immunity from work of any kind. According to the Army and Navy Gazette, such people "are begged to join a non-combatant unit; if they agree they are at once released."

The farce of doing some mild kind of work is then played. It must not be any kind of work that helps the nation to win the war. These gentlemen are rewarded for their conduct by giving them half-holidays on Saturdays and whole holidays on Sundays-though the poor soldier in the trenches has no such advantage, and even the soldier in our training camps at home is not so well off. The work done is ridiculously small. They are allowed their evenings out and, incredible as it sounds, their week-ends. One of the most notorious and mischievous of them was recently discovered going round the country addressing meetings against the war. They are granted free passes on the railways at holiday times when ordinary soldiers are refused this privilege. These facts are gradually becoming known, and they account for the intense dislike in which the conscientious objectors generally are held by the nation. So bitter is the feeling against them that recently, when a number of them were quartered at Lewes, a riot very nearly occurred owing to the resentment of the people at being compelled to give them accommodation. When some hundreds were removed to Dartmoor and there treated with ridiculous feebleness public protests were made in Devonshire. The sound popular instinct recognizes in them parasites that thrive and live in comfort because of the agony and sacrifices of nobler men.

To complete the scandal, they retain their full civil rights. This is an impossible position-an outrage on the feelings alike of the nation and of its soldiers. It is also a dangerous position, because a good many of these men show the criminal temper and have in several cases attempted to stir up sedition.

Men who do not recognize any duty to the State, and, indeed, deny the State's right to exist, cannot have the best of both worlds. They cannot claim to be exempted from the painful tasks which have to be performed to protect the existence of the State and at the same time claim to enjoy the benefits which the existence of the State confers. The right of voting is historically a method by which the fighting-power, or man-power, in favour of a particular idea is measured. It belongs to those who are willing to fight or work (like so many of our women) for the State, and to them alone. It is therefore intolerable that the conscientious objector should retain the vote. It is a method of using force, and he protests against the use of force, so that if he votes he writes himself down a hypocrite. The State should save his conscience from that temptation by depriving him of the franchise, whether in national or municipal affairs, for life.

Again, the law courts rest on force and apply force under certain conventions. It is therefore unreasonable to allow the conscientious objector, who objects to defending the State by force, to use the State's force to defend his own petty interests. He should be declared incapable of bringing a legal action or of recovering a debt by legal process. He should also be declared incapable of holding any State or municipal office or employment; and, above all, he should be excluded from the schools, as his presence is a corrupting one for the young. A very healthy instinct has led certain municipalities to dismiss conscientious objectors in their employment. The late Government was far less patriotic. Surprising as it may sound, persons professing to be conscientious objectors were unearthed in the War Office and Admiralty, drawing handsome salaries for conducting the war, and are believed to be still there. Their presence is a gross insult to the public and a crime against the State. If they are honest in their professions they could not further the national cause with energy and zeal. If they are dishonest they have no claim to be treated with tenderness.

The conscientious objector at present benefits in cash from his conduct. This is not fair. In Switzerland a special tax is levied on those who do not perform compulsory service, even when they are willing to do so. Such a tax should be imposed on conscientious objectors for the term of their lives. It should be a certain percentage of their income or wages, rising progressively. Lastly, a special register should be kept of their names, to which the public should have the right of access. This is only

proper, as employers are not anxious to have bad citizens in their employ.

These restrictions on their rights and liberty would fall very far short of martyrdom, or indeed of anything that could be called persecution. Most of my proposals have national interests in view, which must be placed above the interests of individuals. And there is justice to be considered. It may be said that the conscientious objectors are few in number. This is true; but murderers are also few in number, and we do not for that reason allow them to escape. They have brought unparalleled ignominy on the British name, and for that we may fairly require them to submit to certain penalties which naturally attach to their offence. Appeals to their morals will have little effect, but experience shows that many of them are very susceptible to pecuniary considerations.

In no foreign army are such people granted privileges, and it is a question whether Great Britain can afford to ignore the example set by the democracies of France and Italy in enforcing military service on all. In France a man who behaved as our conscientious objectors do would be sent to a penal battalion, not to a comfortable week-ending community of fellow-hypocrites; and if there he showed any insubordination he would be shot. He would, in fact, be treated exactly as is a French or British soldier who does not claim these peculiarities of conscience. France and Italy believe in equality, not in privilege.

It is, however, a great tribute to the soundness of the nation that the conscientious objectors are so few. The Labour Leader, which has been manufacturing them, as if for all the world it was a devoted adherent of the Hohenzollerns, has only been able to claim 2500. It is not likely to have underestimated the number. And this is the result of a campaign the cost of which is popularly supposed to run into six figures though whence the money for it has come many people would like to know. The average Englishman has resisted the call of cowardice and safety, and this though stupendous efforts have been made to persuade him to be false to his country, and though for two generations no effort has been made to teach him his duty to her. We understand, when we contemplate such faith and devotion in the common man, the full force of that last message from the young French artist on the battlefield to his mother: "Don't dwell on the difference between the character of those who have fallen and those who are left alive. That is to weigh them by the balance of man. For in all of us there is an enormous amount of something which is nobler than the purely human."

There may be this something in the conscientious objector, and it is no kindness to place him in conditions where the best of him is deliberately stifled. H. W. WILSON

SOUTH AMERICA AND THE WAR

THE material advantages likely to come to the Allies as a result of the entry of some of the South American Republics into the war are obvious from a glance at statistics of their resources or at a list of interned and other shipping in their ports.

It is scarcely a reproach to say that not much is known here as to the special characteristics of the different Republics. Three years ago South America concerned herself but little with Europe, except as the market where her products were sold, and where she could obtain the luxuries with which the rich South American loves to adorn his life. It seemed then that half a century at least must pass before even the wealthiest of the Republics could influence or wish to influence European affairs. Internal questions-consolidation, electoral and educational reform, immigration, development of resources, communications, irrigation-these were the matters on which the attention of the Republics was of necessity concentrated. The general attitude towards Europe was shown in the phrase-half proud, half deprecating-which one so often heard: "We are a new country, barely a century old; a few years ago the Indians were at our doors; we cannot be expected to have anything good of our own yet"-an apology which could but bring the obvious disclaimer, when one contemplated the crowded harbours, the miles of docks, the thronged streets, the palaces of Rio de Janeiro or Buenos Aires.

If the truth be told, many Englishmen are inclined to put all the Republics into one category: they associate them vaguely with great wealth and love of display, with frequent revolutions, and armies in which every one is at least a colonel. Such a picture is strangely inadequate and inaccurate. The mentality and general character of the several Republics differ widely, but all who have lived in South America cannot but be impressed by the solidity of the basis on which the countries are being built up-almost everywhere-and by the seriousness of purpose and dignity of those who govern them. An attempt to describe the three great Republics which are most likely to be concerned in the war may possibly be of some interest at this moment.

Certain characteristics all the Republics may be said to have