Europe's fateful hour

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EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

BY

GUGLIELMO FERRERO

Author of "Greatness and Decline of Rome,"
"Ancient Rome and Modern America," etc.

NEW YORK
DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY

1918

COPTKIQHT, 1918

By DODD, mead AND COMPANY, INC.

) DNW. OF M;^«'^.ACFt'SS5g»

PREFACE

When the war broke out in August, 19 14, it was gener-
ally supposed that it would be on much the same scale as
the various struggles for the balance of power or the wars
of aggression which had rent Europe asunder since the
French Revolution; an opinion which prevailed so long as
to exercise no small influence on the conduct of the war.
It is only indeed comparatively recently that governments
and peoples alike seem to have realized that the present
conflict is more far-reaching and more complex than a
repetition of even the Franco-Prussian War on a vaster
scale.

The essays collected in this volume were all written to
show the erroneousness of this idea and to prove that this
struggle IS not merely the continuation of the national and
political wars of the nineteenth century, but rather a great
crisis in what is commonly called western civilization — a
crisis whose development will be far more extensive than
was ever contemplated and whose consequences will far
transcend the territorial ambitions of the various bellig-
erent states. In order to prove this assertion, I have
endeavoured to trace the component elements of this crisis
with the help of what is generally known as the compara-
tive method, studying modern civilization in the light of
the civilizations of ancient times, trying by this means to
discover their strong and weak points, and making use for
this purpose of the comparative studies along these lines
which I had made before the outbreak of war.*

1 Cf r. Ferrero, " Ancient Rome and Modern America," Putnam.
New York. "Between the Old World and the New." Idem.

V

vi PREFACE

These essential elements of the crisis appear to me to
be three in number. The first is of a military order — i. e.,
the rivalry between the Great Powers of Europe in the
matter of armaments which began after the Franco-Prus-
sian War, when for the first time in history the greatest
nations of the world based their military poHcy not on the
greatest possible limitation of armaments, as had hitherto
been the case, but on the principle of the indefinite increase
of men and weapons.

The second element is the development of industry, more
especially in its metallurgical and mechanical branches.
These industries, which have become so powerful during
the last century, have not only supplied European militarism
■with the means of indefinitely increasing their armaments,
but, by providing incredibly complicated, rapid and power-
ful weapons, have transformed the art of war into a kind
of diabolical instrument of extermination. Until the nine-
teenth century armies were light, easily handled swords
with which duels were fought between states according
to certain recognized rules in order to settle their disputes
with the minimum expenditure of blood and money. In
the century of metallurgy and mechanics they have become
gigantic machines for the destruction of nations.

The third element is of a moral and intellectual nature:
i.e., that unshakable optimism, that blind faith in the
progress and strength of man, that unbridled ambition and
covetousness w^hich has effaced or at all events dimmed
the sense of limitation, of proportion, of the humanly possi-
ble and the reasonable in the whole western civilization, in
the realms of philosophy, religion, art, science, politics,
finance, industry and commerce alike. Western civiliza-
tion was on the way to thinking itself omnipotent. This
malady had attacked all the nations of Europe to a greater

PREFACE vli

or less extent, but its ravages were greatest in Germany
which had fallen victim to that megalomania, that insen-
sate pride, that unbounded ambition, that deterioration in
the morals of the masses which made a coimtry, which for
long had been regarded as the model of the world, become
in a few short months its terror and detestation.

These three elements gave birth to this war which
knows no limits of time, space, destruction of life and
property — an appalling phenomenon in the history of the
world — a war which in its turn gave birth to a crisis in
the whole of western civilization, owing to the overwhelm-
ing shock to its political and moral order.

I was specially pleased that an English translation of
'-this book should be published in America, because the
Americans occupy a peculiar position which makes it easier
for them than for Europeans to follow these ideas. Is
not the United States the living proof of their truth? If
the European war were the last and greatest of the political
and national wars of the Old World, it would not be easy
to understand why the United States could not have re-
mained neutral as it did in all preceding conflicts; if, on
the other hand, it is a crisis in western civilization, it is
easy enough to see why it could not be a mere looker on,
since America forms part of that civilization.

The Americans are not only in a position to understand
this universal character of this crisis, but are also better
able to profit by this truth in the work of reconstruction
which must follow the present cataclysm. The position
of America in relation to the great events of the last three
years differs from that of the European Powers in so far
as only two of the elements which have contributed to this

PREFACE

vui

crisis are present in America : the industrial and the moral
and intellectual. The first and most important — the mili-
tarism which impelled Europe to the unlimited increase
of armaments — is altogether lacking.

This circumstance has had and will have various conse-
quences. The fact that she had not taken part in the rival-
ries of militarism was one of the causes which both obliged
America to intervene and made that intervention more diffi-
cult. It forced America to intervene because had she not
done so, she would have been unable to create a great
army, and had she not created this army, she would have
found herself at the end of the war the only wealthy na-
tion in the world, but at the same time wholly defenceless
against Europe, which, while possessing numberless great
armies, would be bankrupt owing to the expenditures of
her whole capital on armaments. The vastest accumula-
tion of wealth which the world has ever seen would have
existed on one side of the Atlantic and the most formida-
ble accumulation of armaments on the other side. It is
difficult to say what would have been the outcome of this
disproportion, but no one can fail to see the danger latent
in it to the political and moral equilibrium of the world.
It will be one of the chief glories of American democracy
that it realized this supreme necessity and the other na-
tions will give it credit for the great service it has ren-
dered to civilization by improvising a great army at this
critical moment in the history of the world in order to re-
establish the equilibrium of power on the two sides of the
Atlantic. This service will be still greater if, as is hoped
by all enlightened minds, the new American army acts as
the army of universal disarmament; if America uses her
power, her wealth and the sacrifices she is making in the
common cause to induce the European Powers to accept

PREFACE ix

loyally a military organization based on the principle of
reduction of armaments to the lowest possible limit.

Of the three elements which have contributed to this
crisis, militarism has been the most active. Without it,
as is proved by America, the other two would have been
almost innocuous and it may fairly be said that this tre-
mendous crisis of western civilization is the offspring of
European militarism, as developed during the latter half
of the nineteenth century. It is therefore obvious that
this evil must be abolished if civilization is to be regenerated
and no State can effect so much towards this end as that
Power which was fortunate enough to be almost immune
from it, namely, the United States, which has it therefore
in its power to save our civilization. I do not think that
I can better close this preface to a book whose aim it is to
discover the means of this salvation than by expressing the
hope that it may rise to its lofty task.

GUGLIELMO FeRRERO.

Florence, December 9th, 1917-

CONTENTS

PAGE

Preface v

CHAPTER

I The Underlying Causes of the War i

1 Quantity and Quality 3

2 Anarchy, Liberty and Discipline .... 23

3 The Great and the Colossal 40

II Teutonism and Latinism 51

III Ancient Rome and Modern Culture 85

IV Italy's Foreign Policy 115

V The Genius of the Latin Peoples 171

VI The Intellectual Problems of the New World . . 193

VII The Great Contradiction 215

1 Patriotism and Progress 215

2 The Two Sides of Progress 222

3 A Ruthless War 225

4 New Strength and Ancient Wisdom . . . 229

5 Bacchus in Bonds . , .. . ..... 237

CHAPTER I

The Underlying Causes of the War

i. quantity and quality

2. anarchy,, liberty and discipline

3. the great and the colossal

EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

QUANTITY AND QUALITY

The first impression made by America on the European who
sees it from the windows of a railway carriage is that of an
immense desert. In the Argentine he sees boundless green
plains, whose monotony is broken only by an occasional
group of three or four one-storied houses behind a railway
station — groups almost too few and far between to make
him realize that the desert is inhabited by man. In Brazil
he sees range after range of gloomy mountains with here
and there a lighter patch, where the forest has been cleared
to make room for coffee plantations. But on plain and
mountain alike he seeks in vain for signs of the presence of
man. The train runs for hours without passing through
so much as a village. It is the same in North America, at
all events in the Western States, where vast, dreary stretches
of country meet the eye. True, villages are more numer-
ous and less scattered, and suddenly the traveller sees that
the train is passing houses, more and more houses, great
factory chimneys bristle on either hand, lofty buildings
tower over the ordinary buildings like giants over a multi-
tude of dwarfs and he catches glimpses of streets with
hurrying motor cars and trams. He is passing through
an important town, where half a million, a million or even
two million of his fellow men live crowded together under
the shadows of the myriad chimneys surrounded by an al-

3

4 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

most deserted countryside. Soon the train leaves the
haunts of men once more and rushes into the melancholy
solitude of the desert plains.

A strange sight, this boundless void, to the European, who
has lived all his life in one of the most densely populated
countries of the v^^orld, where dwellings of man are to be
found everywhere from the sea shore to the loftiest inhab-
itable mountain peaks. Desolate as these plains and moun-
tains may appear, they are however not unknown to man,
whose unremitting toil forces them to yield every year im-
mense quantities of grain, cotton, tobacco, coffee, wool,
meat, gold, silver, copper, iron and coal — a boundless stream
of wealth which flows over the whole world. These raw
materials are worked up in the great manufacturing centres
of the United States with almost incredible rapidity.
Even if Europeans tend to exaggerate everything concern-
ing America, its marvels and its horrors alike, there is one
thing which exceeds their estimate of it, namely, its riches.
In no place or period has man succeeded in producing such
boundless wealth in so short a space of time as he has done
in the United States and in the great republics of South
America, such as the Argentine and Brazil, since the middle
of the nineteenth century. We might well believe that he
had discovered beyond the shores of the Atlantic the fabu-
lous garden of the Hesperides for which he had so long
sought in vain, the promised land which for centuries to
come will provide mankind with food, clothing, metals and
fuel enough to satisfy the wildest dreams of avarice; the
land of plenty which is one day to banish from the world the
scourge of famine, before which it trembled for so many
centuries. If we bear this in mind, we shall realize the im-
portance of all that has taken place during the last fifty
years in the plains, mountains and cities of America and the

QUANTITY AND QUALITY 5

great role which the countries of the New World now play.
The riches of America would not, however, be one of the
most remarkable historical phenomena of our age, if they
merely furnished man with powers of action and enjoyment
such as he has never before possessed. Their effect is at
once wider and deeper, for they are hastening the end of a
movement which began more than a century ago — one which
threatens to overwhelm the very foundations of our civiliza-
tion; they place before us a formidable problem, the most
serious, in my opinion, which we have to face ; the problem,
which together with the influence, hatred or admiration of
the riches of America, lies at the bottom of almost all the
moral and social difficulties surrounding us : the problem of
progress. This statement may appear perhaps obscure: I
will now endeavour to explain it.

II

The wealth of America ! We constantly hear this spoken
of in Europe, frequently with envy, as if it were the riches
of some uncivilized people which, in order to acquire the
treasures of the earth, looks with contempt on the things
of the intellect. One does not, however, need to travel in
America in order to realize that the Americans are
no mere barbarians, wholly given over to money grub-
bing. I can only here give a few instances from North
America, but they would almost all apply on a smaller scale
to the great States of Southern America. The effort made
by the Americans to establish schools all over the country
would in itself be sufficient to refute such an accusation.
You have all heard of the great American universities, such
as Harvard and Columbia. These institutions are real
cities of learning, with splendid buildings, gardens, laborato-

6 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

ries, museums, libraries, playing fields and swimming baths.
The beauty and comfort of the buildings are in themselves
a proof of the esteem accorded to learning, but of this the
scholastic program affords even more striking evidence. It
may safely be said that everything which can be taught is
taught : all languages, living and dead ; the histories and lit-
eratures of every land, both ancient and modern, which have
influenced the development of civilization; all sciences, both
theoretical and practical. Millions are required annually
for the upkeep of these buildings and the support of the
professors, yet nearly all these great universities are wholly
independent of the State. They are maintained by the fees
paid by the students and by the generosity of the rich.
Bankers, manufacturers and business men contribute a large
proportion of the sum required for the salaries of all these
professors of Hebrew, Greek, Latin, philosophy, mathe-
matics, etc. Nor do the universities absorb all the money
spent by public bodies and the wealthy classes on education.
Everywhere we find museums, libraries and schools of every
kind for both men and women of every class set up by
cities, states and millionaires for the spread of general
education and professional training. Face to face with
these facts, it is difficult to say that the upper classes in
America care about nothing but money. It may be asserted
that they are lacking in taste, that their towns are hideous.
It would undoubtedly require some courage to say that
American cities are beautiful, but it would none the less be
unjust to say that the American is indifferent to beauty or
to deny that he makes great efforts to beautify his country.
All the architectural schools of Europe, those of Paris
above all, are full of enthusiastic American students.
Fabulous sums are spent on fine public buildings by towns,
states, banks, insurance companies, universities and railways.

QUANTITY AND QUALITY Tf

These edifices may not be masterpieces, but it can hardly
be denied that some of them are very handsome and that
America possesses many talented architects. We con-
stantly hear it asserted in Europe that x^mericans give high
prices for antiques or so-called antiques and are incapable
of distinguishing between the really beautiful and the medi-
ocre, the genuine and the faked. But those who have vis-
ited rich Americans in their homes know that while the
pretentious and the dupe are to be found in America as in
every other country, there are also many Americans who
are real connoisseurs.

A writer given to paradox might even assert that Amer-
icans are more idealistic than Europeans, if the desire to
understand, admire and assimilate everything — art, ideas
and religions alike — is to be regarded as a proof of ideal-
ism. Go to New York: you will see in the streets speci-
mens of every kind of architecture; every religion is repre-
sented in its churches ; every school of music in its theatres ;
every style of decorative art in its houses. Now New York
is typical of that spirit of universal reconciliation, somewhat
vague and superficial perhaps, but vigorous and sincere,
characteristic of contemporary America, of which prag-
matism is the philosophic expression. When pragmatism
affirmed that all useful ideas are true, did it really intend,
as has been alleged, to subordinate the ideal to the practical ?
I hardly think it is possible to believe this when one has
once breathed American air. No, pragmatism is essentially
a doctrine of conciliation. Its aim is to afford man the
means of reconciling opposing ideas and doctrines by prov-
ing that all ideas, even those which appear mutually ex-
clusive, may help to become wiser, stronger and better.
Why then struggle for the triumph of one to the detriment
of the other instead of allowing man to take from each all

8 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

the good that each has to offer? Those who know North
America will say that if there be a distinctively American
doctrine, it is this. Many philosophic objections might of
course be made to such a doctrine, but, whether it be true
or false, it proves that the people which conceived it, far
from despising the ideal, has such a respect for all ideas,
that it has not the courage to reject any one of them.

But for the limitations of space, many analogous in-
stances might be cited. There are rich, uneducated people
in America as elsewhere, but the boor rolling in money is
a mythical being. Nor is this surprising. Modern society
is so constituted that it is impossible to conceive of a nation
which is both wealthy and ignorant. Modern industry,
commerce and agriculture demand special technical knowl-
edge and a highly perfected social organization; in other
words, a high degree of scientific and judicial culture.
America cannot therefore be said to be indifferent to the
things of the intellect ; it would be more correct to say that
she is less interested in them as a people than in industry,
commerce and agriculture. But is not this the case also in
Europe? Who would venture to assert that the progress
of literature, art and science is the dominant interest of
the governments and upper classes of the Old World?
Listen to the conversation of those around us. What are
its topics? The perfecting of industrial machinery, the
development of coal and iron mines, the utilization of
waterfalls, and the expansion of industries and commerce.
Kings who reign by the grace of God declare publicly that
they have nothing so much at heart as the commerce af their
countries! If this be American barbarism, it must be ad-
mitted that Europe is being Americanized with alarming
rapidity. This economic effort of Europe is not, however,
in the least surprising: it is but the dizzy speeding up of a

QUANTITY AND QUALITY 9

great historical movement which began in the far-away days
when an obscure and tenacious Genoese spread his canvas
and set sail across the ocean for the unknown West.
Europe had, indeed, given birth to miracles of art and liter-
ature, to profound systems of philosophy, lofty moral stand-
ards and learned codes of law — but she was poor; she pro-
duced but little and that little slowly. She had made gods
of tradition and authority; she had set bounds to the energy
of man by means of laws, prejudices and precepts ; she bent
the pride of man by telling him unceasingly that he was
weak, unstable, corrupt and — to quote Virgil's metaphor
— like the boatman rowing slowly against the stream.
Woe to him if for a single moment he relaxes his efforts
to make headway against the current which is ever ready
to carry him away with his frail bark! Then, suddenly,
she discovered an immense continent in the midst of the
ocean and realized that Prometheus, who had only stolen a
single spark, was but a clumsy thief. She discovered elec-
tricity and coal mines ; she learned how to make the steam-
engine and consequently how to multiply her wealth with
a rapidity unknown to our ancestors. From that moment
man was no longer content merely to dream of the prom-
ised land ; he wished to see it for himself. He demolished
all those traditions, laws and institutions which hampered
the flight of human energy; he learned to work both hard
and quickly; he won both liberty and riches and he con-
ceived the idea of progress.

The idea of progress was born during the closing years
of the seventeenth century, at which time man began to
realize that he was able to conquer the earth and its treas-
ures. It developed and spread during the nineteenth cen-
tury, and overcame both the objections of philosophers and
the misoneism of the masses, the scruples of religion and

10 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

the spirit of tradition, in proportion as man extended his
dominion over nature, seized her treasures and shook oft"
the yoke of obsolete teaching. The tremendous develop-
ment of the great American States ensured its final triumph
and it is today the dominating principle of our civilization
— one which obliges us to make efforts, to run risks and
endure privation. And yet ... if you ask people who
have the word " progress " constantly on their lips what
they understand by it, how many can give you an exact
definition? You have only to read the books and articles
on the subject or to study the proceedings of sociological
congresses to see how confused and discordant are the
ideas even of experts. The idea of progress appears to be
as popular and all powerful as it is vague and incoherent.
It is on every one's lips, but no one knows exactly what it
is. Stranger still, in the century of progress you hear
constant complaints of universal decadence. Workmen,
employes, soldiers, students, children, parents and servants
are no better than before; good cooking is as much a thing
of the past as good literature, beautiful furniture, and art,
and courteous manners. How is it that so many things are
deteriorating in this age of progress ? Are we making prog-
ress or not? Is the progress of which we are so proud
and to which we daily sacrifice our leisure and our peace of
mind, sometimes even our very life, but an illusion after
all?

Ill

It is hardly necessary to point out the seriousness of this
question, which may be regarded as fundamental, since on
it depends the final sentence passed upon our civilization:
whether it is a serious matter or a great delusion. And
yet our age cannot answer it. Why is this? How is this

QUANTITY AND QUALITY 11

apparent contradiction to be explained? This is the great
problem which all I saw, learned and observed in North
and South America forced me to face. Has the problem
of the New World struck me in this light because my start-
ing point was not only Europe but also the dead and gone
ages of ancient history? It may be so. At all events this
obscure problem has always seemed somewhat clearer when
I compared American, and more especially North Amer-
ican, society with the ancient civilizations to which I had
devoted so much study. True, the civilizations from which
our own is descended were poor: their desires, ambitions,
their initiative, enterprise and originality were all limited;
they produced but little and, while they suffered much from
lack of material resources, they only looked upon the in-
crease of riches as a painful necessity. They did, however,
strive after a high standard of perfection in art, Hterature,
morals and religion, as is proved by the artistic character of
almost all the industries of the past, the importance attrib-
uted to the decorative arts, to questions of personal morals,
ceremonial and forms. Quality was more highly esteemed
than quantity, and all the limitations to which these civiliza-
tions were subject — limitations which seem so strange to
us today — were but the necessary price of this ardently
desired perfection. We have made the accumulation of
riches our aim ; we have won liberty and destroyed almost
all the limitations of the past ; but we have had to abandon
nearly all the ideals of artistic, religious and moral perfec-
tion venerated by our ancestors and sacrifice quality to quan-
tity.

Take, for example, the dispute as to the study of the
classics. Why did men study Homer and Cicero with so
much enthusiasm in times past? Because the great Greek
and Latin writers were then considered the models of a

12 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

literary perfection greatly admired by the ruling classes,
which was not merely an intellectual adornment. It could
confer public esteem, celebrity, even glory and lofty posi-
tions. During the last century these models have, how-
ever, lost much of their prestige, either because many people
have learnt to appreciate the literature of other ages or
because they are no longer in touch with a period which
speaks too much and writes too fast. How can a candidate
for the Presidency of the United States, who has to make
ten or fifteen speeches a day, aim at the perfection of ora-
tory of Cicero or Ouintilian? But the day when classic
learning ceased to be a school of literary taste pronounced
its doom ; once the ancient writers ceased to be models, their
works became books like any others, and less interesting to
many readers than much modern literature. We hear much
of an artistic crisis. Here we must, however, draw a dis-
tinction. The arts may be divided into two categories:
those which merely serve to amuse man and to offer him
an agreeable pastime, such as music, the drama and, to a
certain extent, literature; and those which beautify the
world, such as architecture, sculpture, painting and all the
decorative arts. Now it is obvious that if there is a crisis
in every branch of art at the present time, the crisis is far
more acute in the arts belonging to the latter category. No
age has spent so much on beautifying the world as our own
has done; no epoch has given birth to such hosts of archi-
tects, sculptors, painters and decorators, built so many
towns, palaces and bridges, or laid out so many parks and
gardens. Why are we so dissatisfied with the results?
Why have the Americans, who spent such fabulous sums on
beautifying their towns, never succeeded in building a S.
Mark or a Notre Dame ? We have everything : money, art-
ists and the desire to create the beautiful; what is lacking?

QUANTITY AND QUALITY 13

Only one thing : time. One day at New York I was speaking
in appreciative terms of American architecture to a very tal-
ented architect. " Yes, yes," he answered sarcastically, " my
compatriots are quite ready to spend one hundred million
dollars on building a church as beautiful as S. Mark's in
Venice, but they would insist on its being finished in
eighteen months." The reply was suggestive. How is it
possible to beautify a world which is perpetually being
transformed, where nothing is stable and where everything,
from furniture to buildings, must be turned out in quanti-
ties? Time, reasonable leisure, a wise moderation in the
demand for quantity and a certain stability of taste are
indispensable in the construction of beautiful buildings and
beautiful furniture alike if even a fairly high standard of
perfection is to be attained. S. Mark and Notre Dame
cannot be built in eighteen months and France could never
have produced her great decorative styles if public taste
had been as changeable as it is now and people had expected
to refurnish every ten years.

IV

How many other instances could be given! If we look
around us we see on all hands this struggle between quality
and quantity, which is the very essence of modern civiliza-
tion. Two worlds are at war in our day; not, as is so often
thought, Europe and America, but quantity and quality, and
their conflicts disturb and rend asunder America just as
much Europe. The impossibility of defining progress, the
contradiction between our constant complaints of general
decadence and our equally constant assertions that the world
is progressing, are another effect af this struggle. Our age
has increased the output of certain commodities while lower-
ing the standard of quality so that it appears to be progress-

14) EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

ing if we judge it from the standpoint of quantity, and to be
deteriorating if we judge it from that of quaHty. We are
bewildered, because we are constantly confusing these two
standards by using sometimes one and sometimes the other.
Set an architect and a builder in concrete to discuss our
age: the former will tell you that the multiplication of
hideous, jerry built towns and villages is a sign of deca-
dence and barbarism, because they prove that we have lost
the power of raising the marvellous monuments which are
the glory of the Middle Ages; while the latter will main-
tain with equal sincerity that no epoch has been so progres-
sive as ours which sees the birth of so many new towns and
the extension of those already existing. The former
judges from the standpoint of quality and is right in assert-
ing that Notre Dame or S. Mark's, Venice, are of greater
value than a whole American city; the other, who judges
from the standpoint of quantity, is equally justified in draw-
ing a directly opposite conclusion. In America I have seen
an even more striking instance of this tragic misunder-
standing, which is latent in nearly all our judgments on
good and evil. When I arrived the campaign which had
been going on for some years against the trusts, the great
banks, the railway and insurance companies, was at its
fiercest. Speeches, articles and books by men of weight
accused the great financial magnates of being propagators of
corruption and tools of a modern despotism no less detest-
able than the despotisms of ancient times, and of forming
disgraceful organizations to rob honest men of the fruit of
their toil. This campaign was so widespread among the
middle and lower classes as to contribute in no small degree
to the fall of the Republican Party. This wave of popular
indignation was, however, met in America, as it had been in
Europe, with absolute composure by economists and busi-

QUANTITY AND QUALITY 15

ness men who accused the whole movement of being a
return to the ideas of the Middle Ages and sang the praises
of modern finance, its immense enterprises, great successes
and formidable organizations. How is such a marked dif-
ference of opinion on a question of such importance to be
explained in an epoch so enlightened and educated as our
own? Has part of the world been struck blind and only
the remainder been gifted with clear vision? Not at all. It
is not a question of sight or blindness, but of two sets of men
having different aims and employing different standards of
measurement. How can they possibly come to an under-
standing? If the quantitative standard be adopted, if it be
admitted that the aim and object of life is to produce the
greatest possible quantity of wealth in the shortest possible
time, the economists are right. The injustices and corrup-
tions denounced by the adversaries of modern finance are
but the trifling drawbacks of the economic liberty to which
the modern world owes its wealth. The idea that the earn-
ings of the individual should be determined by the blind play
of economic forces was, however, unknown to all the civil-
izations preceding our own. They always strove to adjust
this play of forces, so as to bring it into agreement with
the principles of charity and justice. In order to attain
this end, they did not even hesitate to limit the developments
of industry and commerce, as, for instance, by forbidding
usury. They subordinated economic development to an
ideal of moral perfection; quantity to quality. Now, if this
standard be applied to the modern world, those who disap-
prove of modern finance are right; certain methods em-
ployed by modern finance and, in certain cases, even cor-
ruption, may further the production of riches, but are none
the less distasteful to a sensitive moral conscience. The
partisans and opponents of finance may talk for ever, they

16 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

will never agree, for they start from different standpoints,
which can never be reconciled.

We now see why the comparisons made between Europe
and America, all the discussions as to which of the two
worlds is the best, can never lead to any definitive con-
clusion. The weak point of all these comparisons is always
the confusion of the two standards. America is neither the
egregious country where no one has an idea beyond money
making, nor the fabulous land of marvels its admirers would
have us believe it. It is the country in which the principle
of quantity, which has become so powerful during the last
century and a half, has won its most signal triumph. An
active, energetic, vigorous people found itself in possession
of an immense territory, of which part was extremely fertile
and other districts rich in mines and forests, just at the time
when civilization had discovered the means which rendered
possible the development of immense tracts of country and
the rapid production of wealth: the steam engine. This
people had in its hands a country unhampered by tradition
and was therefore able to march along the new paths of his-
tory with unexampled rapidity and energy. In the course of
a single century it has multiplied its population, its towns
and its wealth ten, fifteen and even thirty fold. It created
in hot haste a social order which has subordinated the ideals
of perfection prevalent hitherto to a new ideal: the ideal of
increasing size and increasing rapidity. It is not true that
America is indifferent to intellectual things, but her efforts
in the field of art and science neither are nor can be subor-
dinated to the other and higher ideal of the rapid and in-
tensive development of the continent by means of machinery.
At the same time it is not correct to assert that Europe
stands for the essence of civilization, as against American
barbarism, or that the Old World has seen its day and is

QUANTITY AND QUALITY 17

powerless and paralysed by the trammels of routine. The
ancient societies of Europe have also entered upon what
might be called the quantitative phase of history ; in Europe,
too, the masses demand a higher standard of living; public
and private expenditure is increasing with alarming rapidity
and it has become absolutely necessary to further the produc-
tion of wealth. This is, however, a far more difficult matter
in Europe than in America. Europe is far more densely
populated; part of the land is exhausted; the many political
divisions and the multiplicity of tongues greatly increase the
difficulties of development on a large scale ; the traditions of
the days when men produced a small number of articles
which attained a high standard of perfection are more pow-
erful. Europe is superior to America in the higher things
of the mind, but in economic enterprises she is slower, more
timid, less prodigal; in short, more limited, nor could it be
otherwise. She cannot produce the same quantity at the
same rate. Europe may thus seem superior to America or
America to Europe, according to whether we make use of
the standard of quantity or quality. If the perfection of a
civilization is to be gauged by its output of riches America
must be considered the model; if, on the other hand, per-
pection is to be judged by intellectual activity Europe bears
off the palm.

V

The objection might be urged : " But we cannot live for
ever in a state of indecision. What standard ought we to
choose? Is the world, as we see it today, a marvellous
epic of progress or a gloomy tragedy of decay? Which of
the two worlds, Europe or America, is the better? Which
is to be regarded as the model? You have no right to set
such problems if you cannot solve them, and if you cannot

18 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

solve them, you might have saved yourself your journeys
to America or at all events have spent your time on these
journeys on other things and refrained from writing a
lengthy volume on the conflict between the two worlds. "
Such an objection would be both natural and reasonable.
It is, however, unlikely that man will ever succeed in solv-
ing the problem with any degree of certainty during the
present phase of civilization, for this very uncertainty is the
price of man's conquest of the earth and of the enormous
development of America which we ourselves have wit-
nessed. In order to conquer the earth and its treasures we
have sacrificed many of the ideals of perfection — artistic,
moral and religious — bequeathed to us by our ancestors;
are we, however, ready to give them up altogether? Can
we even imagine a world of pure quantity without either
morals, beauty or justice? The question is its own answer.
But the pride and cupidity of man have been excited to
such a pitch by his conquests, that the modern world seems
to have made up its mind to go on with the great adventure
to the bitter end. A religious, moral or political movement
placing reasonable limits to needs and luxury in every class
seems very unlikely to take place in our day and, so long
as the population, the demands of all classes, and public
and private expenditure continue to increase, quantity will
continue to extend its sway. We shall be forced to subor-
dinate art and morals to the necessity of manufacturing
more rapid machinery, bringing more and more land under
cultivation and discovering mines. The production of
wealth will tend more and more to become the standard of
progress and our day will become increasingly the day of
those who possess vast tracts of territory, great empires,
and rich coal and iron mines. Fire will once more become,
as at the dawn of history, the supreme deity, and the intel-

QUANTITY AND QUALITY 19

lectual and moral uncertainty in which we live will continue.
No system of philosophy, no science, will be able to replace
this uncertainty by a clear and exact knowledge of good and
evil, beauty and ugliness, truth and error. All the qualita-
tive differences between things will tend to become confused
in our minds. We shall not be able to give an exact defini-
tion of progress, just as we shall find it difficult to dis-
tinguish between legitimate needs and vices, between reason-
able expenditure and extravagance. We shall change our
aesthetic principles every year; we shall consider a thing
ugly today which we admired yesterday and vice versa, and
after probing into the mystery of those things before which
our fathers bowed their heads, we shall end by asking at the
very moment when science is celebrating its greatest tri-
umphs whether it is true or false, whether it teaches to know
reality or merely deludes us; whether we know or are but
dreaming! Here we have the great problem with which
contemporary philosophy is confronted. Everything seems
to totter to its fall around man who, by transcending every
limit, even the reality of the world, has become too
powerful !

VI

If there be no way out of the situation, why face it at all,
you will say? Why recognize the existence of an incurable
malady? I am of the opinion, however, that it is well to
analyse our present strange position, one which is unique
in the history of the world, and that a thorough under-
standing of it cannot fail to be of service to those men —
scholars, artists, men of letters, jurists, and the religious
— who represent the world of quality. With the exception
of medicine, whose aim is to cure our maladies, of those
sciences which make discoveries of service to industry, and

«0 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

of the arts which minister to public amusement, the world
of intellect of today seems out of touch with the world. Is
there a single earnest priest who has not asked himself in
moments of discouragement of what use it is to preach the
Christian virtues to a century whose power lies in overween-
ing pride and an almost delirious greed of possession?
What intelligent historian has not wondered from time to
time to what purpose he persists in recording the events of
the past to a generation which only looks to the future?
What philosopher has not felt in this age, so wholly absorbed
in economic realities, as if he had strayed into this world
from some other planet? What artist, whose ambition is
not confined to money making but who strives after a high
standard of perfection, has not often cursed the frenzied
whirl in which we all live today? From time to time an
apparent reversion to the old order takes place; a sudden
interest is manifested in the progress of religion, the future
of morals, the history of the past, the problems of meta-
physics, and the artistic remains of dead civilizations.
These passing enthusiasms are, however, too transitory to
convince artists and scholars that they have a definite and
useful task to accomplish. One reason why all forms of
intellectual activity tend at the present time to become either
lucrative professions or bureaucratic careers is that they are
forced to seek outside — in money or in social position —
the object which they can no longer find in themselves.
How many times, during my long journeys across the great,
lonely tracks of America, have I thought, as I gazed on the
wheat fields or coffee plantations stretching as far as the
eye could reach, of the little bits of marble so delicately
carved by the artists of ancient Greece which are the treas-
ures of our museums. Was not the marvellous perfection
of Greek art due to the fact that at a certain period in their

QUANTITY AND QUALITY 21

history they ceased to try to extend their dominion over the
earth and its treasures? Have we not succeeded in con-
quering these immense stretches of country because we have
given up striving after the artistic and moral perfection
which was the glory of the ancients? This idea seemed to
me to shed fresh light upon the ancient civilizations and our
own day alike. If the civilizations which carried their de-
sire for perfection too far ended by exhausting their energies
in the pursuit of a goal at once too circumscribed and too
difficult of attainment, are not the civilizations which give
themselves over to the passion for immensity, speed and
quantity fated to end in a new, coarse and violent barbarism ?
If a people is to live happily and work profitably, there must
be a certain balance between quantity and quality, and this
balance is only possible if the ideals of perfection, whether
artistic, moral or religious — are capable of setting a bound
to the desire for the increase of wealth. How many forms
of intellectual activity, which are at present neglected or
despised, or else completely transformed into careers or
professions, would once more become noble missions if
artists, historians, philosophers, priests, men of letters and
the upper classes by whom they are surrounded realized of
what supreme importance it is to keep intact some sort of
breakwater against the violent flood of modern progress!
What renewed energy would these forms of intellectual life
draw from their consciousness of this task and its impor-
tance ! Take classical studies, for instance. I touch upon
this point once more, as I draw to a close, because it is one
about which I thought much during my travels in America
— classical studies will never flourish again unless, after
moderating their scientific claims, we restore to them their
original artistic and literary character. They must, that is
to say, have as their object the preservation of an ideal of

^^ iiUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

aesthetic perfection. We cannot, however, simply return to
the humanism of times past. Greece and Rome can no
longer be regarded as the one and only standard of beauty.
Times have changed, the world would no longer tolerate the
confinement of taste within such narrow bounds. Greece
and Rome may and should be one of our models, the most
ancient and the most glorious. The models created by
Greece and Rome have exercised such immense influence on
the history of the world, they have so often aided nations
to emerge from barbarism and to find in limitation the con-
sciousness of beauty, truth and justice, that it is our duty to
keep them alive in our minds and ready to come once more
to our assistance. In order to keep them alive, we must
have schools where we can learn to know and feel them.
No ideal of perfection is either absolute, eternal or neces-
sary; they are one and all born of an arbitrary and hence
transitory limitation ; they are like so many sparks from the
infinite light surrounding us. They pass away in an instant
if man makes no effort to retain them. There have been
periods which shattered statues and burned books whose
fragments we treasure as relics and this destruction of an-
tiquity might conceivably take place again, though under
less violent forms. What will be the use of filling our
museums with Greek statues when the world no longer ap-
preciates their beauty, or of publishing perfect editions of
the classics when only a handful of specialists can read
them? Just because in the great continents of America fire
is once more about to become the lord of the earth and the
supreme deity of man, as it was at the dawn of history, the
law of equilibrium demands that in both Europe and Amer-
ica there should be a select few devoted to the worship of
the Muses and capable of appreciating the harmonies of
Virgil even amid the deafening whirl of modern machinery.

ANARCHY, LIBERTY AND DISCIPLINE

The European war, which has already devastated so much
of the world we knew, this war which has been spoken of
for years, though often without any more real belief in its
possibility than in that of the sun being extinguished or the
earth colliding with some wandering comet, this war took
but a week to become a grim reality. On the evening of
July 24th, 19 14, Europe from the Baltic to the Ionian, from
the Pyrenees to the Ural Mountains, went to rest never
dreaming but that the next day would dawn as usual, bring-
ing to the world, like its predecessors and successors, its
wonted burden of good and evil and then vanishing into the
abyss of time with nought to mark it from its fellows. The
German Emperor was on his usual summer cruise in the
North Sea, the Emperor of Austria was taking the waters
at Ischl, the President of the French Republic was about
to leave Russia on a visit to the Scandinavian sovereigns.
But on Saturday, July 25th, all Europe read with dismay
the threatening words addressed to the Serbian government
by the Austrian Minister at Belgrade and the following Sat-
urday, August ist, Count Pourtales, the German ambassador
at Petrograd, handed the declaration of war to the Russian
government. How did this come about ? Whose fault was
it? What was its object? Even now after three years the
rapidity with which in one short week the imaginary comet
appeared, grew and collided with us, the paralysed stupefac-
tion with which we watched its approach, seem like some
hideous dream.

When the time comes, history will investigate and relate

23

24. EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

everything that was said, thought and done day by day and
hour by hour at the courts and in the chancelleries of Europe
during that fatal week. At present each government
strives to divulge only that which tends to throw the re-
sponsibility for this appalling catastrophe on to the shoulders
of other governments. There is, however, one point as to
which no impartial observer can be in doubt. The European
war broke out because and solely because Germany, both
her people and her government, willed it. The respective
parts played by people and government matter little. What
does matter is the fact that at the critical moment people
and government agreed to fall upon their two powerful
eastern and western neighbours who asked nothing better
than to be left in peace. Hence we are faced with the ques-
tion, why should such an industrious people, professing to
be actuated by the same moral and political principles as its
neighbours, a people which therefore had every reason to de-
sire peace as much as the other peoples of Europe, have
suddenly been seized by such an overwhelming desire to go
to war without provocation and in a cause that only con-
cerned them indirectly? Does this people despite appear-
ances differ from its neighbours? Is it in reality a stranger
in that Europe in the very heart of which it dwells and
multiplies ?

If we are to answer this question aright we must bear in
mind that this war is not merely a war but, like the fall of
the Western Empire, the advent of Christianity, and the
French Revolution, an historic cataclysm. Hence if the
accidents which immediately brought it about are of recent
origin, its real underlying causes must be sought in the re-
mote past ; they date back to that immense upheaval of which
the French Revolution itself was but an episode, that up-
heaval which for two centuries has been undermining the

ANARCHY, LIBERTY AND DISCIPLINE 25

principles on which the social order had rested since the
beginning of history.

Bygone centuries had said to Man, every new thing, just
because it is new, must be regarded as worse than its prede-
cessors, and consequently every old thing must be held
sacred. One century, the nineteenth, ventured to reverse
this principle and to proclaim in the name of progress that
the new, just because it was new, should be preferred to
that which was already in existence and that it was the duty
of each generation to give new lamps for old as frequently
as possible. The bygone centuries had told Man that mod-
eration of desire, simplicity of life and frugality were the
supreme virtues. The nineteenth century reversed this be-
lief also, deeming it a virtue to earn and spend lavishly and
to multiply its desires, needs and aspirations. For cen-
turies and centuries Man had been told that he was bom into
the world in order to submit to authority both human and
divine; the nineteenth century proclaimed, on the contrary,
that he was born in order to live in liberty and to exercise
his faculties freely and that, in consequence, it was his duty
to inquire into the reasons for the authority to which he
was asked to submit. This was perforce the result of that
great movement of peoples, classes, ideas and aspirations
which after the discovery of America impelled Europe first,
and then both Europe and America to conquer the earth,
that reversal of principles by which what was bad has either
become or was in process of becoming good, and what was
good either has become or is in process of becoming bad,
inevitably engendering universal unrest in the life of the'
world, an unrest far more widespread than that caused by
Christianity, which had also, though by another process, re-
versed so many of the social principles of the ancients, an
unrest whose causes escape most observers, but is none the

26 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

less making itself felt everywhere in the world today.
Whether the new principles of liberty and progress can
ever succeed in uprooting and suppressing wholly and for
ever the ancient principle of authority and tradition, or
whether a longer time than has yet elapsed is requisite for
its uprooting and annihilation, the fact remains that in
nearly every European country the new principle has only
achieved a partial triumph and the old principle still holds
partial sway. Consequently in all modern European coun-
tries we find a lack of internal harmony which is both
disturbing and constant, but varies in degree, since authority
and tradition have not yet yielded or been forced to yield
to the same extent all over Europe. One nation is con-
sen^ative and clings to tradition in those very things in
which another is striving eagerly after progress, innovation
and vice versa.

II

If from this point of view we compare the three principal
European Powers we shall perhaps understand why France
and England desired peace and why Germany on the con-
trary forced war upon them as she has forced it on the whole
world. To the great upheaval of ideas and principles which
brought forth modern civilization France contributed her
share, and what a share! the Revolution. To the prin-
ciple of authority, which for so many centuries held sway
in every State, the French Revolution opposed the principle
of liberty. For this reason France is undoubtedly the
European nation in which the new principle of liberty has
succeeded in establishing its ascendancy in politics to a
greater extent than in any other country and is perhaps the
only one in which the State, stripped of its outward show,
the mystic pomp and ceremony of bygone ages, is revealed

ANARCHY, LIBERTY AND DISCIPLINE 2T

to man in its naked reality as a creation of reason pure and
simple, intended for the service of those who are subject
to it and in which authority instead of coming from above
emanates from those who are bound to obey it. Thus un-
trammelled public opinion holds absolute sway over the Re-
public, a state of things of which the bare suggestion would
have seemed mad or impious three centuries ago. But
apart from the State and political doctrines there is perhaps
no nation in Europe in which the ancient spirit, respect for
tradition, sense of moderation and recognition of authority
is as strong as in France. Many look on France as behind
the times because in that country old traditions hold their
own more successfully against the encroachments of mod-
ernism than they succeed in doing elsewhere, always pro-
vided that it is not a question of political theories. Even
the rich live modestly and simply, at least in proportion to
their ample means; they practise economy, a virtue which
has fallen into disuse; they are slow to change the sacred
habits of everyday life, and family feeling is very strong in
them. The mania for novelty in philosophy, art and science
is not widespread, as among the cultured classes of other
countries. After the Revolution France, and this is by no
means the least of her merits, did not give birth to many
fresh systems of philosophy or wax enthusiastic over those
brought forth in such numbers by Germany. Today France
is perhaps the only nation which does not demand novelty
in art at any cost or refuse to recognize the authority of
the old criteria.

It is not difficult to understand that a rich, powerful, and
highly educated people endowed with a sense of moderation,
and not easily deceived by specious theories into a craving
after the impossible, a nation in which pubic opinion rules
the State, would naturally desire peace. France was con-

28 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

tented with her lot and did not hanker for the impossible.
Why should she expose her fertile Jfields to the terrible
scourge of war? The masses when they can follow their
natural inclinations prefer peace to war. France has so
earnestly desired peace that more than one of her neigh-
bours, perhaps the enemy himself, had concluded that she
had become effeminate.

When we pass to England we find another contradiction.
England too had played her part in the recent upheaval of
the world. The industrial revolution, without which the
political revolution would have had much less effect on the
old order of things, was pre-eminently her work. When
man possessed only such instruments, mostly of wood, as
could be set in motion by his own hand, or by the muscles
of some domestic animal, he was able, it is true, to make
beautiful objects, but only in limited numbers, and was
therefore forced to look upon parsimony as a virtue and on
prodigality as a vice. When, however, man succeeded in
inventing machinery set in motion by steam, and in manu-
facturing an unlimited number of objects, though possibly
of inferior quality, he no longer sought after beauty and
good workmanship, but after quantity and variety. Other-
wise what was the use of turning out so many? The more
rapidly man worked, the more he multiplied his needs, the
more perfect was he considered.

England, having inaugurated the industrial revolution,
was bound to do as she has done and bring into discredit
patriarchal habits, family traditions, simplicity and economy
more than any other nation. It is a well known fact that in
private life the Englishman, who is a sort of Bohemian,
bound by no close ties to his environment, will leave his
home, his family and change his whole manner of living
in obedience to the exigencies of his work. But this ap-

ANARCHY, LIBERTY AND DISCIPLINE 29

parent instability rests on an unshakable foundation of po-
litical and intellectual traditions. There are no people more
slow to change its opinions, methods, principles, tastes and
convictions in matters of art, science, religion, philosophy
and, even to a certain extent, in politics. The Germans
accuse England of having desired and provoked the war,
wherein they show great ingratitude towards the nation
which has done everything in its power to make it easy for
them to make a surprise attack on Europe. Not only did
England not desire the war, but she did not even believe it
to be a possibility, in spite of the repeated warnings of far-
sighted men, for she had never beheld such a cyclone and
war would have been too disturbing to both her business
and her pleasure. Consequently she had made no prepara-
tions for war; she had neither Allies, army nor funds; she
hesitated up to the last moment, up to the moment when
the German soldiers had crossed the Belgian frontier, and
for many months after the outbreak of the conflict she
failed to realize the magnitude of the ordeal before her.

In Germany too we find a contradiction, different again
from that observed in France and England. Every one
knows the power still possessed by the mystic principle of
authority in Germany even in the twentieth century. God
still governs the Germans, who are consequently under the
impression that they are the apple of His eye. We con-
stantly hear it said that Germany is a survival of the Middle
Ages. This is false if we judge by the forms of govern-
ment which wear a modern dress, but true if we judge by
their spirit. Where except in Germany could we find wor-
ship of royal power and of all authority emanating from the
State, the spirit of the seventeenth century transported to
the twentieth, become more fervid and sincere because
it is tempered by a certain spirit of liberty and criti-

30 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

cism, more universal and imperative because it is taught and
inculcated by an admirably organized and omnipresent
State? The absolute monarchies which existed before the
Revolution were much more venerated than actually obeyed,
as is the case today with the authority of the State in Russia
and Turkey. In Germany, by applying forcibly and with
modern methods the old principles of monarchial rule, the
State has succeeded in making itself respected and obeyed
to such an extent that at the outbreak of war the German
State was undoubtedly the strongest in Europe, the one that
had least reason to fear the opposition, ill will and indiffer-
ence of its subjects.

But what anarchy in customs, tastes, aspirations, criteria
and ideas counterbalance this power of the State in modern
Germany ! There is no people among whom the old tradi-
tions of simplicity and frugality have given place to a
more frantic craving for riches and luxury. No other
nation has placed the duty of earning and spending, working
and enjoying up to the very last moment, on a level with the
heroic virtues. No other nation has prided itself to such a
degree on setting aside, both in theory and practice, the
bounds respected by man throughout the ages, and this ap-
plies not merely to the bounds set by tradition and authority
but also to those dictated by common sense, ethical law and
decency. We have all heard ad nauseam of German kultur,
that system of science and philosophy which since the French
Revolution has found so many followers among both
adolescent and decadent nations, and of which imfortunately
the Italian universities of the present day are the most ser-
vile worshippers in Europe. But wherein does this kultur
differ from earlier or co-existent systems of learning?
Herein, that too often through arrogance, lack of experi-
ence, or some similar defect, it wholly fails to distinguish

ANARCHY, LIBERTY AND DISCIPLINE 31

the point at which it must stop short in research, because if
it attempts to transcend that point it is thrown back upon
itself and hurled into the sophistic void. Many even now
raise their eyes to Heaven and exclaim, " Who would have
thought it of Germany? Who would have imagined that
she was capable of such deeds, that she could set such an
example ? A country with so many philosophers and schol-
ars, a country so full of education and learning. " But do
you really believe, with scholars and philosophers, that wis-
dom and science are incorruptible possessions, the very es-
sence of progress, a ray of that divine light which purifies,
revivifies and sheds joy wherever it shines? No, even sci-
ence and wisdom, the works of man, are subject to all the
perversions and corruptions of humanity; they too may err
and lose their way, more especially if they claim to transcend
certain bounds of knowledge, which are never laid down by
science herself but by humility, common sense, and by what
I might term a certain " human instinct " which the scholar
ought to possess both with regard to himself and exterior
things. This " human instinct " is, however, just what is
lacking in German kultur. Impelled by frenzied pride to
seek its starting point in itself alone, eager to set up fresh
systems of morals, art, religion and philosophy, the German
intellect has for the last century been accomplishing Her-
culean labours, with the result that it has too often succeeded
but only in complicating simple questions, obscuring simple
issues, setting insoluble problems, clouding the moral con-
science and ruining the artistic taste of the world.

Ill

How many examples I could give ! I will, however, name
but one, taken from the branch of study with which I am

32 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

most familiar — an example which will hardly appear cred-
ible when man has succeeded in freeing himself from this
malady — the Homeric problem. The Iliad and the Odys-
sey are, as every one knows, the two great monuments of
poetry which stand on either side of the portals of history.
They mark the starting point of European literature. It
is therefore not surprising that in every age they have been
subjects for diligent study and research. But however
great the liberties critics have been in the habit of taking
in their interpretation and comments upon the masterpieces
of long dead writers, they had for centuries respected at
least two boundary lines when treating of these two vener-
able pillars of literature. One of these lines of demarcation
was the tradition according to which in the eighth century
B. C a poet had flourished, named Homer, who had written
two poems and of whose life a more or less accurate ac-
count was given. Although this tradition was defective
and incomplete and its details did not agree, it had been
respected for centuries, simply because it was recognized
that the ancients were more likely than ourselves to know
when and by whom the Iliad and the Odyssey were written,
and that even if they had forgotten the name of the real
author it was hardly likely that we should succeed in re-
calling it. The other limit was still more modest, since it
was set up by the common sense which says that, just as
every son must of necessity have a father, every book must
have an author, and that if every book we possess was
written by some poor devil who one fine day took it into his
head to dip his pen into ink and sit down to write the first
word of his book, not giving up his task until he had written
Finis on the last page, the Iliad and the Odyssey must have
been written in the same way. While tradition and these
considerations of common sense did not of course satisfy

ANARCHY, LIBERTY AND DISCIPLINE 33

our thirst for knowledge, they were for centuries regarded
as the pillars of Hercules, beyond which curiosity did not
venture to pass until German learning appeared upon the
scenes. German scholarship knew no such hesitation, and
the inevitable punishment followed, for instead of drawing
fresh vigour from this living source of poetry German
savants racked their brains over the impossible task of trying
to reconstruct the history of a work about which we possess
no data. They discussed and waxed hot over the wildest of
theories ; they studied and wrote much without reaching any
conclusion, until one fine day some wiseacre laid his clumsy
hands on the immortal masterpiece and pulled it to pieces
in order to reconstruct out of the fragments the Ur-Ilias,
the true Iliad, " made in Germany. "

IV

We might cite other examples from Roman history in
which the extraordinary theories of German critics have
even been improved upon by admiring Italians, as also from
other branches of learning, had we time to go thoroughly
into all departments of German kultur. In short, this kultur
fails to recognize legitimate bounds and is consequently lack-
ing in order and discipline ; it cannot distinguish degrees of
importance and consequently makes the most grotesque mis-
takes. It is at the same time arrogant and absurdly naif,
and has in consequence brought about untold confusion in
every country, and more particularly in Italy, which failed
to distinguish between sound and harmful principles. The
real cause of the war must be sought in the want of balance
which makes it possible for the strictest political discipline
to exist side by side with an utter lack of intellectual dis-
cipline in the same mid-European nation. This disparity

34^ EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

between the intellectual anarchy and the political discipline
of Germany has given birth to the cyclone which is devas-
tating Europe. How and why it is not difficult to under-
stand. Theories are powerless to hold the passions in
check, unless they are fused into a system and rest upon
some solid foundation, some tradition, authority or recog-
nized principle, of which the truth is felt and respected by
the world at large. If these bases and supports are lacking,
if thought insists upon being, as it were, its own jumping
off place and on formulating afresh each day the axioms
from which it proposes to start on its task of reconstructing
the world from top to bottom, beauty, truth and morals will
necessarily cease to be anything but a noisy game of soph-
isms in which each player, by an arbitrary change of prin-
ciples, is at liberty to uphold the most contradictory theories
— a game in which the final victory is won by those theories
which are most flattering to the dominant passions. Ideas
will not act as brakes, but rather as spurs to the ruling
passions. This has been the work of literature and philos-
ophy in every epoch of intellectual anarchy; this is what has
been accomplished in Germany during the last four decades
by history, philosophy and literature — the so-called political
sciences — in proportion as pride in victory and power was
fostered by the growth of the population and by the new
wealth so easily obtained from a soil rich in coal and iron.
German kultiir, science, philosophy and literature, which
were weak because they were unfettered, and regulated
neither by principles, traditions or authority of any kind
and, therefore, in their turn powerless to exercise any intel-
lectual authority, had placed themselves at the service of
those passions, whether good or bad, which they were un-
able to correct or hold in check, such as patriotism, the spirit
of discipline and unity, respect for the sovereign and the

ANARCHY, LIBERTY AND DISCIPLINE 55

State, cupidity, national vanity and arrogance and what is
barbarously called " arrivisme. " These sciences thus en-
couraged and accentuated all the tendencies of public opin-
ion, entirely failing to distinguish between the good and
the bad, the beneficial and the dangerous. Above all, they
stimulated the mania for confounding the great with the
merely colossal, quantity with quality, and for regarding the
German people as the salt of the earth and the model for
all the world to copy. They inflamed the pride of the
masses and added fuel to that craze for persecution which
is always the inseparable companion and the immediate
chastisement of overbearing pride, with the result that we
have seen re-enacted in central Europe the terrible tragedy of
Nineveh and Babylon. We behold the appalling phenome-
non of not merely a king but a whole nation growing in
wealth, power and prestige to such a degree as to call forth
the half fearful admiration of all Europe and America, but
becoming at the same time more and more restless, discon-
tented, suspicious and querulously complaining that the
other nations fail to pay it due respect, that its power is not
feared as it should be, that its merits are unrecognized and
its possessions threatened on every hand by disloyal and
envious enemies. Then one fine day this strange people,
at the zenith of its power and riches, this people living in
a Europe which shudders at the very idea of seeing the
sword of 1870 once more unsheathed, this people which
alone in Europe could have enjoyed the blessings of peace
in perfect safety, since it was feared by all while fearing
none, this people suddenly threw down its gauntlet to the
world apropos of a question which in no way concerned it
and challenged five countries, including the three greatest
Powers, to a life and death combat, and after this mad
challenge set forth to battle and death at its Emperor's com-

36 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

mand, as one man, in meek submission to a State which,
unfortunately for the world, exercises far too much author-
ity over its subjects. The European war would not have
broken out had the German people been wiser or the govern-
ment weaker. The catastrophe was brought about by polit-
ical discipline and intellectual disorder. Thus a govern-
ment which was strong, respected and well tempered against
the blows of fate, served by intelligent men and provided
with both money and means, has become the tool of the most
unbridled imagination and ambition in an enterprise in which
the most the German people can hope is that it may make its
fall memorable throughout the ages by dragging down the
whole world with it into the abyss and by burying the
power, which it had sacrificed in a moment of madness,
beneath the debris of a civilization which was prosperous
and flourishing only three short years ago, but whose state
in another year or two no man can foretell.

No other end to the tragedy seems within the bounds of
possibility. The future is of course on the knees of the
gods and no one would venture to predict how or when a
settlement will be reached; on the other hand, no one en-
dowed with any historic sense can fail to see that the Ger-
mans, at all events at this stage of their history, are lacking
in the spiritual and intellectual qualities requisite for the
foundation of great and powerful Empires. A durable
Empire cannot be built up upon valour, unity, passionate
or even fanatic love of country alone ; common sense, a
clear intuition of what is or what is not possible, and a sense
of proportion are equally essential, and in these qualities the
modern German is conspicuously lacking. Indeed, unless

ANARCHY, LIBERTY AND DISCIPLINE 37

some unforeseen miracle were to take place, there can be
no doubt as to the issue. Both sides being equally tenacious,
the victory will fall to the one who has the largest means
at his disposal and knows how to make the best use of them.
Hence the war will be won by that coalition which can put
the largest number of men into the field, whose purse is
longest, which rules the seas and numbers among its mem-
bers two peoples at least, the French and the British, en-
dowed with that political sense, that sense of proportion,
which alone in a war like the present conflict is worth an
army corps. Do not let us lay too much stress upon the
fact that the Germans are fighting on foreign soil. Na-
poleon was in the habit of saying that in war nothing has
been accomplished until everything has been accomplished,
a fact proved by his own experience in 1812. The disaster
of 1 81 2 did not take place at Lodz or on the Narev, but
when he had reached Moscow itself.

VI

Moreover, even were the military situation less favourable
than is actually the case, we should be forced to believe that
the war could have no other end. It might even be said
that it is essential that it should end thus, if Europe is one
day to enjoy a long peace, untroubled by continual panics
and unmenaced by obscure ambitions. Do not let us deceive
ourselves — Europe will never enjoy such a peace if the
German spirit is permitted to continue to play, what for the
last century has appeared to be its special role in the world
— to play it, moreover, more brutally, intoxicated as it
would be with the fumes of victory. It cannot be denied
that the German people possesses various great qualities;
neither, however, can we deny that it has frequently made

38 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

use of these qualities in a way most dangerous to its' neigh-
bours by borrowing from its neighbours certain principles
of civilization originated by them and then exaggerating
them to such a degree as to turn them into perils. Take mili-
tary service, for instance. The duty of each citizen to bear
arms for his country was a principle of the ancients which
the French Revolution had revived and applied with wisdom
and discretion. But the Germans, by reducing the term of
service and increasing the number of soldiers as much as
possible, created and forced upon Europe the modern army,
which is nothing more or less than the nation in arms, the
enormous, slow and costly army which has made war a
calamity in comparison with which all the other scourges
which have afflicted mankind have been nothing more than
trifling annoyances. Modern industry, as we have already
seen, aims at increasing quantity to the detriment of quality.
At the same time France and Great Britain had applied this
principle in moderation. Germany arrives upon the scenes
and what does she proceed to do? What are the shoddy
goods made in Germany of which we hear so much but the
exaggeration of this principle? Germany put it into prac-
tice to such an extent as to flood the world with all sorts of
inferior imitations. No social order can exist without the
use of a certain amount of force. Force is therefore up to
a certain point a factor for good and an element making for
progress. Every nation and every era has recognized this
principle, which has only been rejected by a few dreamers.
But from this elementary, simple and vital truth, the Ger-
mans have contrived to extract the theories of Clausewitz,
Nietzsche, and Bemhardi, and the arbitrary maxims of Bis-
marck, the evil genius of European statesmen for the last
forty years, and even the European war with its carnage,
destruction by fire, devastation and deliberate purpose of

ANARCHY, LIBERTY AND DISCIPLINE 39

recognizing no law or criteria of conduct in war. Things
have gone too far. Europe must once more be ruled by
more mature, older and better balanced peoples. Many are
of opinion that the war will continue some time longer, that
a Peace Congress will then be held and a treaty signed, after
which we shall take up life where we left it that fatal morn-
ing of July 25, 1914, on which we read Austria's threat to
Serbia. This is, alas, an illusion. When peace has been
restored and we try to take up once more the life we led
before the war, we shall see that the river of history disap-
peared that day into an abyss, to reappear changed in both
appearance and direction. We shall not be able to go back.
Too many things will have changed irrevocably or will have
to be reconstructed on a new plan if all these rivers of blood
are not to have flowed in vain and this catastrophe is not
to be the beginning of a new and better order of things but
rather of a ruin still more terrible than that on which we
are gazing today. These things cannot be reconstructed,
this ruin cannot be avoided, unless Europe returns in thought
and deed to that moderation which she had lost during the
last fifty years. This is the test awaiting our generation —
the test which will show us what we are capable of doing
for the true progress of the world.

THE GREAT AND THE COLOSSAL

At the present time, when the future looms before us like
some unknown pathless wilderness, it is well to glance from
time to time at the past and to recall the links of language,
culture, manners and customs binding us to that brilliant
civilization which migrated from its Greek birthplace into
Italy and thence in a Latinized form spread over the greater
part of Europe, where it still holds sway. H we would
draw strength from the past to enable us to fulfil our pres-
ent duties the time has come for us to recall the most striking
characteristics of the golden age of Latin civilization, its
heroic striving after the great and its detestation of the
merely colossal.

H we wander among the columns of an Egyptian temple,
or the ruins of the immense Persian, Babylonian or As-
syrian buildings, the Parthenon, the Temple of Concord at
Girgenti and the other masterpieces of Greek architecture
will seem small and insignificant compared to the colossal
edifices, gigantic columns, and enormous blocks of stone in
which Oriental pride delighted. Look at the Iliad and the
Odyssey, they are but small volumes compared with the
Epics of the East, interminable poems, such as the Ram-
may ana and the Shah Nameh. Each of the four Gospels
contains a collection of the words and deeds of Jesus, but
compare one of them with the discourses of Buddha. A
few pages were enough to set forth a doctrine destined to
revolutionize the world, whilst volumes of perfectly ap-
palling dimensions were needed in the far East to found a
new religion. The East stands for bulk, weight, repetition
and prolixity; Greeks for proportion, harmony, grace,

40

THE GREAT AND THE COLOSSAL 41

lucidity and concision. The East strove after the colossal,
Greece after the great.

The difference between the colossal and the great is both
intellectual and moral. The great is an effort to attain an
ideal creation by the mind of man and to conquer an essen-
tially spiritual difficulty whose law is within ourselves. The
colossal is an effort to triumph over matter and over the
difficulties presented by matter to our will or our caprices
— or, in other words — over exterior obstacles. To quote
a great French philosopher, the great is pure quality, where-
as the colossal is quality with a large admixture of quantity.
Stern intellectual discipline and humility are absolutely es-
sential, not only for the creation of the great in every
sphere, but also for its right understanding and apprecia-
tion, since an ideal of perfection must be accepted as law.
The colossal, on the contrary, is one of the myriad forms
of human vanity and is readily understood and admired even
by minds of coarser fibre, wholly devoid of education.

Hence it is not surprising that even Greece and Rome
after having achieved the truly great, during the most bril-
liant periods of their history, relapsed into the craze for the
colossal. Go to Girgenti and close to the Temple of Con-
cord, which is at once so small and so great, whose incom-
parable beauty may be called pure quality, you will see the
remains of a colossal Temple, the ruins of columns which
still evoke cries of amazement from barbarians from every
part of the world. The same thing is even more noticeable
in Rome. Compare the remains of the Mausoleum of
Augustus and the Mausoleum of Hadrian, the Pantheon of
Agrippa and the Baths of Caracalla, the latter again with
the Baths of Diocletian, and you will see that the proportions
of the buildings increase and become more and more gigantic
with the march of the centuries. Here too the buildings

42 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

teach us, in letters of brick and stone, the history of thought
and feehng. For many a long day Rome had been but a
modest power, she distrusted fortune, she dreaded wealth
and luxury and often shrank from circumstances which
urged her to extend her Empire. Her aim was to found a
great Empire, not a colossal one like those of which the con-
querors of the East were so proud. Ruled as she was by
a chosen few possessed of sufficient authority to direct, not
merely her policy, but also her public taste, Rome during
this period succeeded in understanding and sometimes even
in copying in both art and literature those epochs in which
Greece had attained true greatness. Wealth, success and
security gradually changed the Roman soul; those who for
centuries had guided public taste passed away, Oriental
civilizations took possession of the mind of the masses when
they were left to their own devices. The Empire fell a prey
to unbridled vanity and to a craving for pleasure and ex-
citement, and with this vanity and craving there set in the
mania for the colossal.

How many similar examples are to be seen in the history
of all the Latin nations, in Spain, France and Italy.

Take Venice, go down to the Grand Canal and compare
the modest dimensions of the palaces built by the makers
of the Republic with those of more recent date, constructed
by the generations who light-heartedly contributed to her
decay. Since the days of ancient Greece, life has been one
perpetual struggle between the principles of the great and
the colossal. It is most obvious in the decorative arts in
which it is of symbolic value, but may also be traced in
literature, war and politics, commerce and industry. Al-
ways and everywhere there have been and will be men,
peoples and epochs which have chosen or will choose to
create the great, and others which have chosen or will choose

THE GREAT AND THE COLOSSAL 43

the colossal. Let us look around ; is not this the key to the
present tremendous crisis in the history of the world?

When the present generation has passed away and with
it the passion of feeling that now runs so high, when his-
torians come to study the history of the European war from
the archives of the past, just as geologists study the phenom-
ena of a volcanic eruption by driving their pickaxes into
the cold lava, they will find the whole cataclysm difficult
to understand. " Why, " they will ask, " should a rich,
prosperous people, at the zenith of its power have risked
everything by provoking a wholly needless war with the
three greatest European powers? A war which ended by
arraying practically the whole civilized world against it."

Here in a few words we have the riddle which is per-
plexing many troubled minds today. Greece and Rome
however should be able to supply the answer and enable us
to read aright the mystery of this people and of its challenge
to the world.

This nation, more than any other European nation, has
been carried away by its passion for the colossal — a passion
which it must be remembered is but a somewhat coarse form
of vanity, for tlie ultimate cause of this appalling catas-
trophe is to be found in the overweening vanity of a
nation — a vanity which is characteristic of our century.
Paris, that intellectual capital of the world, whose finger is
on the pulse of civilization and its supreme problems, asked
herself, when confronted by the terrible outbreak of violence
which is devastating Europe, whether man, as he grows
richer, more learned and more powerful, does not also tend
to deteriorate morally.

It cannot, however, be questioned that our epoch has
made great strides in moral education. Our civilization,
which for two centuries has been engaged in a great strug-

44 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

gle with nature for the possession of her treasures and
forces, has been successful in vanquishing the vices and
inculcating the virtues which could hamper further these
efforts. It has, above all, fought against idleness and taught
men that accuracy, punctuality, zeal in the discharge of
duty, the spirit of solidarity in groups great and small which
have to work together. That cohesion of which the bel-
ligerent nations afford such striking examples today show
to how great an extent this spirit has spread among the
masses. No such phenomenon has been seen in any other
age — a proof that our epoch has made for moral progress.
How, then, does it come about that this very epoch has been
overwhelmed by this barbarous mania for destruction and
violence? The explanation is that in its absorption in the
task of turning out disciplined workers it has forgotten that
other passions left unchecked may modify the moral sense
of the masses; this applies especially to vanity, of which
the mania for the colossal is one of the most monstrous
forms. In the early days of the struggle between nature
and civilization, civilization created great things in great
humility. With the increase of wealth, success and power,
however, civilization fell a prey to vanity and aimed at
creating the colossal for which the necessary means were
unfortunately forthcoming. The Empires of antiquity were
filled with pride when they succeeded in raising some monu-
ment of brick or stone or proportions hitherto unheard of.
But what were their cities, armies, fleets and buildings in
comparison to those of the present day? What were their
industry and commerce in comparison to ours? During
the last fifty years the mania for the colossal has infected
all the nations of Europe and America to a greater or lesser
extent and, unfortunately, one of these nations has been
completely carried away by it. Nature seems to have en-

THE GREAT AND THE COLOSSAL 45

dowed this people with an unbounded energy which makes
it readily lean to excess. Although during the last century
it has produced many philologists and archeologists, it has
never really come under the influence of Latin culture.
That sense of proportion, that sense of moderation and
that lucidity, which are the essential characteristics of Latin
culture, have always repelled it; it has at bottom a sort
of spurious and apparently invincible mysticism which
drives it to seek the infinite in the vague, the confused and
the indefinite. It has been victorious in two wars, it was
rich in iron and coal, an inestimable advantage in a century
in which iron has ceased to be the servant of man and has
become the master of the world. In short, this nation ended
by regarding itself as the chosen people, the salt of the
earth, the model for the whole world, and by using the word
" colossal " to express the highest degree of perfection. It
was, however, not long before it became as insatiable, rest-
less, suspicious and jealous as all those eaten up by vanity
who cherish dreams of the colossal. How, indeed, could
a people or a period, whose one and only aim was to " go
one better " in everything than any other people or period,
be either happy or content ? One can only hope for happi-
ness when one is making for a definite goal which may be
attained. A people and a period which aim at the creation
of the colossal are doomed to overshoot the mark, to wander
aimlessly until they commit some irreparable folly. Hence
all civilizations, which have striven after the colossal, after
living in a perpetual state of restlessness, have been over-
whelmed by some sudden catastrophe — a fact which makes
us wonder whether we are destined to be the spectators of
another such tragedy.

If this indeed be the obscure purpose of history, what
light is shed upon the sacrifice which fate is exacting from

46 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

the Allied peoples? Let us never forget that only ordeals
which put its vitality to a test can enable a nation to keep
alive the principles of civilization which it has created or
inherited. Our ancestors created many great things. They
built the Pantheon, the Parthenon, Venice and Versailles;
they created the Empire and the Church, the law, the philos-
ophy and the decorative arts of the eighteenth century; they
brought about the Revolution. What value did we place
upon these things? The sense of greatness, which is the very
essence of Latin culture, was choked by the Asiatic mania
for the colossal; quantity triumphed over quality; progress
— the worth of nations — was gauged solely by the growing
figures of statistics. France offered more resistance to this
current of thought than any other country, but for that very
reason it was too often said that she was aging. Because
her commerce and population was not increasing at the
same rate as the population and commerce of Germany she
ought to have vanished off the face of the earth. How
could any system of philosophy, any doctrine, any argu-
ment, go against this formidable current of opinions, senti-
ments and interests (for many powerful interests were
mingled in this current) which was carrying every nation
and every class towards the hideous enormities of a purely
quantitative civilization? The task could only be accom-
pHshed by one of those great historic events which can
change public opinion ; one of those ordeals which suddenly
reveal the respective value of the principles held by two
different communities. The ordeal on this occasion is so
terrible that no man with any heart would ever have dared
to predict it. But since fate has so willed it. . . . Well,
let us try to rise above death and ruins to the height of the
great events which are taking place before our eyes and to
draw thence the courage, firmness and resignation of which

THE GREAT AND THE COLOSSAL 47

we stand in need. A shudder of anguish ran through the
civilized world during the early weeks of the war. It would
be idle to deny that there were many doubters, many to
whom it seemed that nothing could check and turn back the
colossal mass of men and iron which, carrying all before it,
was marching upon France — that country whose frail and
ancient civilization seemed on the point of dying out. And
in this hour of supreme anxiety the whole world turned its
eyes towards the distant north in the hope of salvation.
Then suddenly, just when the world was beginning to de-
spair, this colossal mass hurled itself against some invisible
obstacle which arose as if by miracle, is checked and re-
treats. We probably lived through one of the great mo-
ments of history, for it was then that our generation, in its
amazement, began to ask itself whether perhaps after all
mass and numbers were not everything. And from that
moment the half -conscious travail of our souls began. We
cannot yet say what this travail will bring forth. The great
ordeal is not yet over. But just as we cannot doubt that
the world in which we shall spend the rest of our lives will
be very different from the world we have hitherto known,
so we may hope that civilization may once again avert a ca-
tastrophe which seemed inevitable. The cruel bloodshed and
anguish of the past years must not have been endured in vain.
This war must be the final victory of true intellectual and
moral greatness over the mania for the colossal which had
hardened and blinded the mind of man ; it must restore to
the world the power to appreciate in every sphere that which
is great solely by reason of the smallness of its proportions
and its humility, a greatness which is wholly from within;
it must once more raise up generations which can accom-
plish great things simply and humbly and a world which
shall recover its moral equilibrium in the sense of true great-

48 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

ness. It would be rash to assert that there will never be
another war, but if other great wars should take place it is
our duty towards the world and ourselves to do everything
in our power to ensure that never again shall mankind have
to face another war such as that forced on us by the vota-
ries of the colossal.

CHAPTER II
Teutonism and Latinism

TEUTONISM AND LATINISM

Almost the whole civilization of Europe and of America,
in its essential elements, has been created, on the shore of
the Mediterranean, by the Greeks, the Latins and the Jews
in the ancient world; by the nations that we call Latin in
the middle ages and in modern times. The religion, the
political institutions and doctrines, the organization of ar-
mies, the law, the art, the literature, the philosophy which
today form the basis of European-American civilization,
are, taken as a whole, the work of those nations which one
can, from their position, describe as Mediterranean. Far
less numerous, although more recent, are the contributions
of the peoples which have not had the privilege of being
able to bathe themselved in the sacred waters of that his-
toric sea. Their enumeration is not a long one. There is
the Reformation Lutherism, so different from Calvinism;
that is to say, from the Reformation conceived in Latin
countries : there is the great industrialism which makes use
of the motor force of steam and of iron machinery, created
by England: there is the parliamentarism, which is also an
English creation : there is the English and German philoso-
phy of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries : and, in lit-
erature, romanticism. To this we must add, to the score
of the Germanic and Anglo-Saxon peoples, some literary,
aesthetic and juridical contributions of varying worth in the
lines traced by the Greco-Latin genius, and the creation of
modern science, at which the English and Germans have

61

52 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

worked together with the French and the Itahans. Modem
science has been created by a common effort of the peoples
of Europe, and it would be difficult to compare each nation's
merit.

Creation and application are two distinct things. The
Mediterranean peoples have created, in their long history,
a greater number of principles of civilization than the Ger-
manic or Anglo-Saxon peoples; this does not prevent sev-
eral of these principles having been adopted, applied, per-
fected, and even employed as arms against the peoples who
had created them, by other groups.

But, having made this reservation, one may affirm that
modern civilization is, taken as a whole, far more the work
of the Mediterranean peoples than of the extra-Mediter-
ranean peoples; that it has been created in part by the
Greeks and the Hellenized Orientals of the ancient world;
in part by the Semitic spirit; in part by, first the Romans,
and afterwards by the peoples we call Latin because they
speak languages derived from Latin ; Italians, French, Span-
iards, Portuguese. To speak only of modern Europe, it
is the Latin peoples who achieved, in the fifteenth and six-
teenth centuries, the greater part of that work of geographic
exploration which was to give over the whole planet to the
white race; it is to them above all that we owe the Renais-
sance, that great intellectual movement of which the mod-
ern age has been bom. It is also among these peoples that
we must seek those who have taken the initiative in re-
organizing great States and powerful armies in Europe after
the political parcelling-out and the disarmed cosmopolitism
of the middle ages. The French Revolution, its intellectual
preparation, its military epopee, the immense political, ju-
ridical and social transformations that it brought about in
all Europe, are Latin works. The Revolution of 1848 is

TEUTONISM AND LATINISM 53

another movement, at once intellectual, political and social,
receiving its impetus from the Latin world.

This brief enumeration should suffice to prove that these
peoples ought not to be adjudged inferior in importance to
any other group in Europe. They are nothing of the kind.
For the last half century the decadence of the Latin peoples
has been a favourite theme of the meditations of the savants,
or of those who believe themselves such. It is spoken of
under a thousand different forms. Spain and Portugal
hold themselves so much aloof that their existence would be
almost unknown had not their ancient American colonies
become so important a part of the contemporary economic
system. Italy, in taking part since 1859 in the politics of
Europe, has attracted to herself the attention of the world
more than the Iberian peninsula ; but the attention given to
her present efforts is very small compared with the admira-
tion bestowed on her past. Contemporary Italy still dis-
appears almost entirely in the eyes of the world in her
immense history. As to France, above all in the ten years
which preceded the war, the opinion that she was a country
fallen into decline, destined to imminent decease, was be-
coming general. At the moment when the war broke out
the world was already convinced, or very near convincing
herself, that the group of peoples that are called in Europe
Latins, had, after having achieved so many things up to the
end of the nineteenth century, allowed itself to be rapidly
distanced by other more energetic groups. One had, ac-
cordingly, the right to consider it as fallen into the rear.

This belief had ended by penetrating even the spirit of
the Latin peoples themselves. Under different forms and
in different degrees these peoples have, during the last thirty
years, alternated between continual ups and downs. At
times they have proclaimed themselves the foremost peoples

S4 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

of the world; at times they have abandoned themselves to
the gloomiest pessimism as to their future. It is, more-
over, indisputable that, since 1787, the group of Latin peo-
ples has been the most agitated, from the political stand-
point, among the European groups. The political crises
which have disturbed them have been far more numerous
and more serious than those which have disturbed the
Anglo-Saxon and tlie Germanic world. These crises have
greatly contributed toward giving the world at large, and
the Latin peoples themselves, an impression of inward weak-
ness. And, in proportion as the consciousness of this weak-
ness increased among these peoples, the nations benefited by
their decadence, real or assumed, by waxing in the admira-
tion of the world, England first, then Germany.

England had been in Europe, between 1870 and 1900, the
model most admired in industry, in commerce, in finance,
in politics, in diplomacy, in social life. Germany was, up
to that time, the model only for the army, for science, and
for certain social institutions. But after 1900 Germany
seemed rapidly to become the universal model, beating Eng-
land in almost all the provinces wherein she had preserved
until then an uncontested superiority.

People did not continue merely to admire the German
army and science as the foremost of the world : they began
also to admire its industrial organization, its commercial
methods, its system of banks, as more modern and more
perfect models than those which England yet afforded.
The world told itself that England was growing old, and
more and more men's minds turned towards Berlin. It
was Germany, by its doctrines and its example, which gave
the final blow to the English doctrines of free trade and to
the laisser faire of the Manchester school. It was Germany
which alone succeeded in disputing the empire of the seas

TEUTONISM AND LATINISM 65

with England, by creating, in a few years, the second mer-
chant marine and the second fleet of the world. When the
war broke out, von Ballin was on the point of taking his
place among the glories of Germany, by the side of Kant,
of Goethe and of Wagner. The admiration for Germany
had become so great that even the repugnance for its polit-
ical institutions had diminished. The almost incredible
indulgence of the Socialist party of all the European coun-
tries towards the empire of the Hohenzollerns is the most
singular proof of this. It is also no exaggeration to say
that every one, in all the countries of Europe and America,
had become Germanophile since 1900. The prestige of
Germany has often been attributed to her victories of 1866
and 1870. But the generation which had witnessed the
military triumphs of Germany had admired Germanism far
less than did the succeeding generation. After 1900 the
world had no longer seen anything in Europe save Germany
and her power, growing with a prodigious rapidity, in the
midst of amazed or dazzled nations.

These facts are too well known for there to be any neces-
sity to insist upon them at length. If one relied on appear-
ances one would have to conclude that some countries, which
had been, for so many centuries, active and capable, had
been all at once struck by an incurable paralysis. Almost
all the virtues which render a people strong and a nation
flourishing would seem to have emigrated, within a few
years, to Germany. There have been, among the nations,
some parvenus of power and wealth ; but one had not hith-
erto seen the parvenu of civilization : a people become, in a
few dozen years, capable of teaching everything to every
one, even to its former masters. Our age has witnessed
this extraordinary phenomenon.

It is, moreover, the explanation which, previous to the

56 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

war, tended to become universal. The European war has
rapidly changed that state of mind ; it has even entirely re-
versed it with many people. History has rarely witnessed
a change so radical and so sudden. From one end of the
world to the other millions of men have stigmatized the
German nation as the shame of our age, as the representa-
tive of barbarism, without any longer remembering that
they admired it, three years ago, as the teacher and the
model of the universe. But just because this reaction has
been so violent and so sudden it seems profitable to pause
and study its causes and its significance. If the world has
forgotten that it considered as the model par excellence, only
three years since, the people whom it regards today as bar-
barians, the fact is not the less true, and a moment's reflec-
tion suffices to seize at once its full import. We live in the
most learned civilization that has ever existed. The choice
of a master and of a model is the most serious action that
a man or a nation can accomplish. How then has the most
learned epoch in history been able to deceive itself in so
gross a manner upon the most serious question in life, and
take as model the people that it should suddenly have to
repudiate as barbarous? Such an error must have pro-
found causes. The search after these causes is, then, the
most important problem which, at this moment, presents it-
self to minds which reflect and strive to understand.

II

This book is devoted to the study of this great problem.
A somewhat rapid survey suffices to reveal in contemporary
civilization two ideals: an ideal of perfection and an ideal
of power. The ideal of perfection is a legacy of the past
and is composed of different elements, of which the most

TEUTONISM AND LATINISM 57

important are the Greco-Latin tradition, intellectual, lit-
erary, artistic, juridic and political; Christian morality un-
der its various forms; the new moral and political aspira-
tions born during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.
It is the ideal which imposes on us beauty, truth, justice,
the moral perfection of individuals and of institutions as the
aim of life; which presences in the modern world the relig-
ious life, artistic and scientific activity, the spirit of solidar-
ity; which improves political and social institutions, the
works of charity and foresight. The other ideal is more
recent: it was born in the last two centuries, in proportion
as men perceived that they could dominate and bring into
subjection the forces of nature in degrees formerly un-
dreamed of. Intoxicated by their success; by the riches
which they succeeded in producing very rapidly and in enor-
mous quantities, thanks to a certain number of ingenious
inventions ; by the treasures that they have discovered in the
earth, ransacked in all directions; by their victories over
space and over time, modern men have considered as an
ideal of life, at once beautiful, lofty and almost heroic, the
indefinite and unlimited increase of human power.

The former of these ideals, the ideal of perfection, can
be considered, in Europe, as the Latin ideal. The Latin
genius has shown its originality and its power, and has won
its highest glory, in striving to realize certain ideals of
perfection; that is to say, in creating arts, literatures, re-
ligions, laws, well-organized states. That does not at all
mean that the Latin peoples have not also contributed to-
wards creating the ideal of power. The history of France
during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries would suffice
to ensure to this group of peoples an important place in the
great change in the history of the world which is repre-
sented by the advent of this new ideal. But the Latin peo-

58 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

pies, who are the peoples of Europe whose civilization is the
oldest, have achieved things too great in the periods in
which the ideals of perfection dominated alone, or almost
alone, for their life not to be still charged with the spirit
of those periods. If, however, in that which relates to the
ideals of perfection, the Latin peoples can claim a well-
defined and characterized historic role, it is not the same
in regard to the new ideal of power. They have developed
this in conjunction with other peoples of different race.
One cannot then attribute a very precise significance to these
words, " the Latin genius," without identifying this genius
with the irresistible tendency which causes peoples and in-
dividuals to desire all the forms of perfection of which the
human spirit is capable.

The ideal of power can, on the contrary, be considered
at this moment as a Germanic ideal. Here also, one must
not fall into the error of believing that this ideal has been
created by the Germans. Germany has contributed less
than France to the long and painful work which was to end
in the unfolding of this ideal in the world. But it is also
unquestionable that, if it has been slow to understand the
new ideal, Germany has ended by becoming, during the
last thirty years, its most ardent champion in Europe. The
immense development of Germany, which had astounded
the world, is nothing else than this new ideal of power trans-
formed by the Germans into a kind of national religion,
become a sort of Messiahism, and applied with an implaca-
ble logic and an ardent passion to carry it out to its extreme
consequences in all departments; no longer only in manu-
factures and business, as with the Americans, but in the
world of ideas, and, an application more dangerous, in war
and the army.

But, this distinction between the two ideals once made,

TEUTONISM AND LATINISM 59

it is possible to understand the immense tragedy of which
we are at once the actors, the spectators and the victims;
to explain the unsettlement of ideas which it has produced,
and to cast a glance into the future and at the duties which
await us. It suffices for the understanding of why and how
our age had associated these two ideals, believing that they
could develop limitlessly and peaceably side by side, whereas
at a certain point they were bound to enter into a violent
conflict. That is what we are going to try to do.

Ill

No profound analysis is required to discover that one of
the characteristic phenomena of the last thirty years has
been, in Europe, the decline of the ancient ideals of perfec-
tion and the growing prestige of the ideal of power. It is
the universal fact that had been masked imder the most
diverse names, such as " triumph of the practical spirit,"
" the economic progress of the age," " the realist policy,"
"the modern tendencies." This triumph of the ideal of
power is, moreover, as will be seen in this book, the gather-
ing to a head of a very complex historic movement whose
origins date back very far. It has been, however, accel-
erated, during the last hundred years, by some immediate
causes. I will cite the principal of them: the immense
growth of the English power, the wealth accumulated by
England and France, the victories of Germany, the develop-
ment of the two Americas, the exploration and conquest of
Africa, the increase of the population and of public, civil
and military expenses which demanded an increase of pro-
duction; the improvement of industrial plant, the progress
of the sciences, the decline of the aristocracies, monarchies
and Churches which represented in Europe the spirit of

60 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

quality or the ideals of perfection; the exhaustion of several
of these ideals, which rendered necessary a revival; the
weakening of the governments; the accession to power of
the middle classes; the growing importance acquired by the
masses and by number in everything, in the armies, in
politics, in industry. Left to themselves, freed from the
old restraints, the masses, having but little culture, were
bound to lean rather towards the ideal of power which satis-
fies the primordial instincts, such as pride, cupidity, ambi-
tion, than towards the ideals of perfection which always
demand the spirit of sacrifice and a certain power of renun-
ciation.

It was in the immense refulgence of this ideal of power
that Germany increased to so great an extent in the world's
estimate during the first fourteen years of the century. If
it were, in truth, the supreme duty of humanity to unite
all its forces towards augmenting its power, Germany would
have been the true model for the world. The ideal of
power, grown into a national religion, together with a com-
bination of favourable circumstances, such as its central
position, the neighbourhood of Russia, the abundance of oil,
the rapid increase of population, the general economic
development of all countries, had produced in Germany an
unparalleled explosion of energy. Supported by a strong
government endowed with indisputable capacity, the Ger-
man race, industry, commerce, science and diplomacy had
invaded the world, multiplied their enterprises, conceived
the most audacious plans. Success had not always smiled
upon these enterprises; but the checks had never discour-
aged either the people or the government. Everywhere the
German had penetrated or assayed to penetrate, disturbing
the calm tranquillity of established positions, introducing
a new spirit of activity, of novelty, of competition; aiming

TEUTONISM AND LATINISM 61

to conquer the foremost place by a struggle as tenacious as
it was devoid of scruples.

History had not previously beheld an example of such
feverish activity. The United States themselves could not
sustain the comparison. They have achieved great things
in industry by exploiting a territory of nine million square
kilometres. The Germans had succeeded in drawing all the
goods with which they flooded the earth ; all the ideas, good
or bad, with which they filled the brains ; the strongest army
and the second fleet of the world, from a territory of six
hundred thousand kilometres. Increasingly hypnotized by
the one ideal of power, the world had been dazzled by that
amazing activity and no longer attached any importance
to the question of the methods by which Germany achieved
her success. What did it matter if, so far back as 1870,
she had resuscitated the old barbarous soul of war and pro-
claimed the sovereign rights of force? What did it matter
if she had developed her industry and commerce by means
of artificial methods of procedure such as dumping; by a
systematic deterioration of the quality of all the goods
manufactured, and by making use without any scruple of
all the means of falsification that the human mind can in-
vent ? To blame these practices would have required ideals
of perfection, or qualifying standards of appraisement.
But these were growing confused, losing their prestige and
their force. . . . The result alone counted. In the crum-
bling to pieces of all the ideals of perfection there remained
standing, in the centre of Europe, gigantic, triumphant, only
Germany. It is now possible for us to explain why the
idea of the decadence of the Latin peoples had ended by
forcing itself upon all, the Latin peoples themselves in-
cluded. The Latin countries, even the two strongest,
France and Italy, were incapable of rivalling Germany in

62 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

this endeavour for power. France had not a sufficient
population. The increase of population is a necessary con-
dition of increase of power. Italy had the population; but
coal was lacking to her. To these material causes were
added some psychological causes; that is to say, a certain
persistence of sentiments which dated back to the periods
of qualitative civilization; the habit of economy; the repug-
nance to continual agitation, to incessant innovation, to the
spirit of modernism carried to excess, to the mania of speed.
In conclusion, the political situation of these countries ren-
dered it impossible for their governments to support the
effort of the nation with as much energy and intelligence as
the German government was able to do.

For all these reasons, these nations have by degrees come
to feel themselves inferior, in the struggle for power, to
the Germany which, though succeeding therein only in part,
they sought to imitate. Hence a very grave consequence.
The ideal of power, reacting on France and Italy, excited
there, in all classes, the appetite for facile gains, the desire
for rapid enrichment, all the forms of arrivisme. But, not
having been able fully to develop itself, it has not excited
in the same degree the correlative qualities and vices which
rendered the German life a system which, if not perfect
as superficial observers thought it, was at least complete
and coherent in its dangerous absurdity; audacity, pride,
the habit of doing everything, even follies, on a large scale ;
the spirit of co-operation : confidence in the future ; disci-
pHne; that kind of extravagant Messianic fervour by which
the German was convinced that he was regenerating the
w^orld by inundating it with bad goods. Taking all in all
the two countries remained more attached than Germany
to the old ideals of perfection; remained, that is to say, . . .
and the war has proved it ... in a more elevated intel-

TEUTONISM AND LATINISM 63

lectual and moral state. But at the same time they brought
into the economic life a timidity, a limitation, a spirit of
distrust, of isolation and of realism; an absence of all mys-
tic illusion, which, combining with the appetite for gains
and the desire for riches, engendered egoisms and corrup-
tions very harmful, whether to the economic system, or to
the whole social organization of the country. This state of
things provoked a great discontent and gave to one part of
public opinion, in the two countries, a very painful sense of
intellectual and moral incapacity in comparison with Ger-
many.

An effort which but half succeeds is always painful, to an
individual as to a people. To this sentiment of partial in-
capacity were added very well justified apprehensions of a
real danger. This people which was multiplying in the
centre of Europe, and developing its power with such ra-
pidity under the leadership of an energetic government, was
it not a danger for the surrounding nations ? But all these
anxieties and fears would not have become so agonizing,
in the years preceding the war, save for an illusion wherein
lies the profound cause of the immense present crisis. The
ideals of perfection, which could have limited to wiser pro-
portions our admiration for Germany, had grown dim in
the mind of the world; but they had not been officially
abjured. No one would have admitted, even before the
war, the wish to live in a world without beauty, without
justice, without truth. When one spoke of progress or of
civilization one always meant it to be understood, more or
less clearly, as moral and intellectual improvement. Our
age desired power, but it also desired, in all sincerity, char-
ity, equity, justice, truth, good. It was easily angered if
any one doubted of these virtues. Unfortunately, if it
wanted these blessings, it was not the less constrained, by

64. EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

dominating passions and interests, to sacrifice them daily
to its desire for riches and power. It was a question, then,
for our age, of increasing its riches and power inimitably,
while escaping the reproach of paying for these material
advantages by a moral deterioration of the whole of society.
The problem was difficult: how has it resolved it? It has
found a simple and convenient means of reconciling the
ideal of power and the ideal of perfection: it has mixed and
confused them. With the aid of a numerous army of
sophists, it has convinced itself that the world would im-
prove, would become wiser, more moral, more beautiful, in
short, more perfect, in proportion as it grew rich and de-
veloped its power. Quantity could increase and quality
improve indefinitely, side by side.

What a part in the intellectual life of the nineteenth cen-
tury has been played by this necessity, in which our age
found itself, of confusing ideas upon this vital point!
What theories have been admired because they arose from
this confusion, and assisted in producing it, in the minds
of men! That of the superman, for example. But Ger-
many was still the country which derived most benefit from
that confusion. The apparent order which reigned in the
country, and that almost perfect co-ordination of all the
efforts of the nation towards power, seemed the ideal of
intellectual and moral perfection. Germany became the
model of all the perfections. Because she was the most
powerful country, she was considered as the most intelli-
gent nation, the most learned, the wisest, the most moral,
the most serious in the world. She had solved, better than
the other nations, all the problems of the period and real-
ized the ideal of the most perfect life. Her law, her social
institutions, her sciences, her music, seemed unsurpassable :
she was even beginning to become a model in the arts.

TEUTONISM AND LATINISM 65

Germany had transferred into the arts her mania for mod-
ernism, her capacity for imitation, and her spirit of organ-
ization; that which, in the immense aesthetic anarchy of the
period, seemed, to a certain number of spirits discontented
with the present, the dawn of a new era. Even the Social-
ists were converted, in the Latin countries, to admiration
for Germany. In seeking a pretext for recriminations
against the bourgeois regime, they had forgotten that it
was to that regime that they owed the possibihty of existing
as a party : they exalted the " social laws " enacted by the
military oligarchy which governs Germany as a grand prog-
ress of which their own countries were not capable; and the
German Socialist party which, without the liberties given
to the world by the French Revolution, would not have
been able even to exist, as the true liberator of the world!
Which is tantamount to saying that the government of the
Junker was more just and more humane than the demo-
cratic governments of Western Europe. Europe was de-
luding herself with these absurd illusions, when all at once
the sky and earth trembled. Germany had just fired the
mine.

IV

Within a week the nation which had been the model of
all the virtues became the object of universal execration.
The dictionary no longer held adjectives adequate to stig-
matize it. It was banished from the society of civilized
nations. What had taken place in eight days? A thing
simple and tragic : the ideal of perfection and the ideal of
power, which the world had confused, as if they could de-
velop indefinitely side by side, were entered into conflict.
Therein lies the profound significance of the whole present
crisis.

66 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

A philosopher would have been able to foresee a priori
that this conflict would break forth one day or another.
This prevision belonged to the number of certitudes that
one could call dialectique, because they can be arrived at by
reasoning; and which are the more sure if, to arrive at
them, the argument takes its start from a well-established
truth. A common-sense truth could in this case lead easily
to this prevision: which is, that the blessings of hfe are
mutually allied one to another in such a manner that they
mutually limit each other in different ways; and that if one
wishes to enjoy a blessing beyond a certain degree, one
must renounce the other which formed its limit. But then,
very often, even the blessing which one has too much de-
sired becomes an evil. " For a fortnight," ... so spoke,
some years before the war, an old man who had known
men and the world ..." we have argued to discover what
was of greater value, to produce riches, to create works of
art, or to discover truths ; and up to what point it was good
to desire wealth. . . . Now, in doing this, what have we
done save to seek the relations which exist between Art,
Truth, Morality, Utility, Pleasure, Duty, Equity ; that is to
say, between the blessings of life? These are questions
which greatly interest philosophers, who readily imagine
that the world is perpetually in trouble because they do not
succeed in resolving these grave problems. But does not
life take it upon herself to answer them each day? Is it
then so difficult to understand that these things are the lim-
its, the one of the other? Duty can put a bridle on Pleas-
ure and preserve it from perilous abuses: the sense of the
Beautiful can preserve Morality from certain excesses of
asceticism: Morality can turn Art aside from certain in-
decent subjects: Utility hold Truth a little in check, remind-
ing man that * all Truth is not good to utter ' ; or can pre-

TEUTONISM AND LATINISM 67

vent Morality and Art from becoming dehumanized by
becoming ends unto themselves; and so on. What is
history if not the perpetual effort of the will to discover new
balances (equilibriums) and more perfect limitations be-
tween these elements of life? "^

It is the same with justice, charity, reverence, equity,
loyalty, chivalric sentiment; with all those ideals of moral
perfection which the world had not renounced, and of
power. Power and these ideals do not necessarily exclude
each other, but they mutually limit each other. The
stronger the ideals are in a nation or an individual, so much
the more will power acquired by violating justice, charity,
equity and loyalty horrify them : they will want power only
within the limits traced by these ideals of moral perfection.
The stronger the ambition for power, the more easily and
indifferently will an individual and a nation overstep these
limits. If the ambition for power become, in a man or in
a nation, a kind of religion or Messianic mysticism, these
limits will end by being regarded as obstacles that the man
or the nation must overthrow, and with which they will
boast of being openly in conflict. That is what has hap-
pened to Germany, before the eyes of the terrified world.
Intoxicated by its success, by the flatteries of which it was
the object, by the idea of its strength, by the hope of an
immense triumph, Germany had ended by believing, as,
moreover, the greater number of its admirers believed, that
it was the best because it was the strongest : it was obvious,
then, that it would improve in proportion as it should
increase in strength : consequently, all that it did to augment
its power was good. The spirit of a whole people, power-
ful, strong, numerous, once set upon this declivity, and it
was bound to slide rapidly into the worst excesses.

1 " Entre les Deux Mondes," Paris, 1913, p. 415.

68 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

But if Germany, which was the strongest and which
hoped to win, had easily confused with the good all that
which favoured her immense ambitions, the peoples at-
tacked, who felt themselves the weaker and who saw them-
selves menaced by a fearful danger, took refuge by the
deserted altars of Justice, of Equity, of chivalrous Generos-
ity, of Loyalty; that is to say, they opposed to Germany
and its ideal of power the old ideals of perfection. From
that moment they have recommenced, in all the nations
which speak languages derived from the Latin, to exalt the
Latin genius, the Latin spirit, the Latin civilization, in
prose and verse. And with reason; for the Latin genius
sums up the ideals of perfection, which alone can limit the
aspirations of man after criminal power. But if the Latin
ideal is above all and before all an ideal of perfection, it is
necessary for all those who today exalt the Latin genius
and oppose it to Germanism, to bear well in mind that it
represents the opposite of what one had formed the habit
of most admiring in Germany: of that insatiable aspiration
after an unlimited growth of power; of that untiring and
unscrupulous activity; of that spirit of invasion; of that
taste for all which is enormous, colossal, extravagant, vio-
lent. We must not delude ourselves too much: the ideal
of a power which should grow indefinitely has seduced the
minds of many and has deeply penetrated into even the
Latin countries. Even today, after so much bloodshed,
many adversaries of Germany waver between the horror
and fear of the excesses committed by it, and the desire to
appropriate its methods and the secret of its successes. We
must not too far forget that powerful interests are bound
up, even in the Latin countries, with that ideal of boundless
power, whereas every ideal of perfection imposes limits,
restrictions and renunciations.

TEUTONISM AND LATINISM 69

y

It is above all for this reason that the present war seems
bound to be the beginning of a very long and complicated
historical crisis. This immense catastrophe has shown the
world that it is not possible to want at one and the same
time an unlimited increase of power and a continual moral
progress ; that sooner or later the moment comes when the
choice must be made between justice, charity, loyalty, and
power, riches, success. But it is not so easy to make the
choice as to say that it must be made. A few examples will
show what transformations and responsibilities this choice
implies, should the world decide one day to limit afresh
the ideal of power and the ambitions which it engenders,
by ideals, old or new, of perfection. These examples will
at the same time give an idea of the practical conclusions
of which the ideas expounded in this book, and the concep-
tion of the European conflict which is there set forth, per-
mit; they will thus lead to a better understanding of that
which a renaissance of the Latin spirit will signify in mod-
em civilization on the day when it shall appear.

In many States there is a question of alcoholism. It is
serious above all in France. In what does this question
consist? It is only one of the consequences of the effort
for the unlimited increase of production of all things, use-
ful or harmful, which characterizes our age. Alone among
all the civilizations of history, our civilization has applied
itself with the same energy to manufacture ever greater
quantities of all products, from alcohol to explosives, from
cannons to aeroplanes, without ever troubling itself as to
the use that would be made of them. It is thus that enor-
mous quantities of alcohol have been distilled; and after
having been distilled they have been given to the million

70 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

to drink, even at the risk of destroying whole nations. The
primary sources of the vice are in the industry and not in
the men. It is not the thirst of men which obhges indus-
try and agriculture to produce drink in ever increasing
quantity: it is industry and agriculture which, swept along
by the tremendous economic on-rush of the world, augment
the production; and, to dispose of it all, teach the masses
to get drunk. The question of alcoholism is, in short, pri-
marily a question of over-production. Our ancestors were
much more sober, not because they were wiser or more
virtuous or more devout; but because they produced less
alcohol, and the little that they produced was of better qual-
ity. They could not drink the alcohol which did not exist.

The deduction is clear. To eradicate this plague the
State must claim the faculty of limiting certain productions
for moral and patriotic reasons; that is to say, set moral
limits to the ceaselessly growing productive power of mod-
ern industry. Neither propaganda committees, nor lec-
tures, nor sermons, nor pamphlets, nor even the reduction
of the number of public-houses, will cure the evil so long
as such great quantities of alcohol shall continue to be dis-
distilled. If we want to save the masses from this curse,
there is only one way : entirely to prohibit the distillation of
the alcohols of inferior quality destined for the making of
liqueurs, and rigorously to limit the production of the alco-
hols of superior quality. The people will be obhged to drink
less when they no longer have anything at their disposition
but wine, beer, and a few very expensive liqueurs.

Another serious question brought forward by the war is
that of the limits of commercial competition between the
different nations. Every one knows that the development
of the German industry and commerce has been in part
obtained with the aid of special methods of competition,

TEUTONISM AND LATINISM 71

such as dumping^ and innumerable ingenious adulterations.
German chemistry has been the great accomplice of all these
adulterations. These are ways of acting which can only be
justified if one admits that quantity is everything in the
world ; that each people ought to seek only to produce, sell
and consume as much as it can; that the worth of nations
is measured by the figures of its exports; and that, to iiv
crease the raw total of commerce, all means are good. But
these are the principles which have led Germany to destroy
herself in destroying Europe for the satisfaction of its inor-
dinate ambition ; and against which we have been protesting
for years past by opposing the Latin spirit, and its ideals of
moral perfection, to the unscrupulous lusts of Germanism!
If, then, we wish for the spirit of justice, loyalty, a certain
feeling of trust, to regulate in future the relations between
the civilized peoples of Europe, we must apply curbs and
limits to these equivocal procedures. It is so much the more
necessary in that, if we do not succeed in this, there is no
doubt that every one will set to after the war to imitate
the Grerman system : with what result ? It is easy to pre-
dict! It is therefore necessary to endeavour to impose
moral regulations upon international competition: but by
what means ? There seems only one : to revert, by modern-
izing it, to an old doctrine which was less an economic law
than a moral principle imposed on economics: the just price
of things. " Carins venders vel villus emere rem quam va-
leat . . . injustun," said Saint Thomas. The application of
this principle in this case can be made without hesitation,
for no one will question that he who buys a thing at a
price lower than the cost of its production buys it below
its worth. It must then be affirmed that dumping, while
being of service to the people who profit by it, weakens
in the mind the concept of the just price of things; accus-

72 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

toming some, on the one hand, to consume products in a
quantity beyond what they ought to consume, granted their
wealth and the general wealth; obliging others to work at
too low a price; disturbing the whole system of retributions.
Consequently all the States ought to unite together to pro-
hibit dumping in all its forms; and each State ought to
reserve to itself the supreme faculty of quashing, by equiva-
lent taxes, the dumping that another State should not be
willing or able to repress.

Not less grave is the question of adulteration as a normal
procedure of modern industry. For the last century it has
enriched many manufacturers; it has benefited above all
the Germans, who have made use of it with their customary
energy and audacity; but it is one of the most dangerous
of the procedures of modern commerce and industry. As
dumping destroys in men's minds the conception of the just
price of things, these adulterations render men more and
more incapable of distinguishing what is good from what
is bad or mediocre ; that is to say, they stifle in our civiliza-
tion the sense of quality. Now, in proportion as one stifles
in men the sense of quality, the commercial and industrial
struggle must necessarily develop itself in the sense of quan-
tity. The business which will pour forth, and know how
to impose, upon the world, the greatest abundance of worse
products will be victorious. But when men exert them-
selves, not to make articles of a certain quality and have
them admired, but to produce and sell the largest number
of articles in the shortest time; it is a victory over matter,
over time and over space that they aspire to, and not a
refinement of their tastes and capacities. It is then an
ideal of power and not an ideal of perfection that they are
seeking after. It is thus possible to reconstitute the chain
which links these processes of adulteration, recognized as

TEUTONISM AND LATINISM 73

legitimate by modern trade, to the present crisis. The pro-
cedures of falsification stifle the sense of quality; quality
is the only natural limit of quantity; the more the sense
of quality becomes obtuse in a period, the more industry and
commerce find themselves under the necessity of struggling
for quantity; that is to say, of indefinitely increasing pro-
duction. This struggle for quantity brings about of neces-
sity the triumph of an ideal of power over all the ideals
of perfection; and v^e see, since 1914, the possible conse-
quences of such a triumph in a people which was conscious
of possessing the strongest army in the world.

As to the procedures of adulteration, we can repeat what
has been already said of dumping: if a curb be not put upon
them they will generalize themselves after the war. Every
one will want to employ against Germany the arms which
it has forged and with which It has wounded us. But is
it possible to put a curb on this evil? Yes: If the States
again became, while adapting themselves to the exigencies
of a world so greatly enlarged, what they were formerly;
the guarantees of the quality of the goods. They ought
not, as they did once, to Impose upon manufactures a cer-
tain standard of perfection; they ought to continue to recog-
nize the right, granted by the Industrial revolution of the
nineteenth century to manufactures and commerce, of de-
basing the quality to the advantage of the quantity, as much
as they want, and as they can; but they ought ruthlessly
to deny them the right of hiding this deterioration of quality
by all the deceptions which industry and commerce misuse
today. Very strong interior legislations and a whole well
supported system of international conventions ought to pre-
vent industry and commerce from deceiving the public as
to the origin, the composition, the solidity, as to the most
important qualities, in short, of the goods. Laws of this

74. EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

kind were formerly very numerous, in the periods of quali-
tative civilization; quantity, triumphing with steam ma-
chinery, has swept them aside; but many much deplored
inconveniences of the present economic regime would
disappear if one returned to the inspiratory principle of
those old laws, adapting it to the requirements of the modern
world. One can even say that these inconveniences will
only disappear on the day when industry and commerce
shall accept these moral limits.

The commercial adulterations are, moreover, only a part
of a much greater problem; of the greatest moral problem
of our age : that of loyalty. For the last three years the
German lies and perfidies are the wonder of the world.
One asks oneself how our century can have engendered a
people which breaks its pledged word so easily and knows
how to lie with such audacity. Would it not be more
reasonable to ask oneself what good faith and regard for
truth could be found in a people which had enriched itself,
and succeeded in obtaining the admiration of the whole
world, through adulterating almost all the products of the
earth? In this defect also the Germans perhaps represent
our age better than one thinks. Our age has accomplished
great things and has many virtues; but it shows itself more
and more uncertain and weak in the conception of honour.
May I be allowed to quote a book written before the war?
" No century had ever so great a need as ours to set a limit
to the liberty to lie. For it is in vain that I try to preach
that man ought to advance towards the future without
turning his head; I do not deceive myself, you know. Pre-
cisely because there are limits, conventional and always
provisional limits, man is ceaselessly at war with the prin-
ciples upon which social and moral order rest. Interests
and passions continually seek either to overthrow these

\ TEUTONISM AND LATINISM 75

limits by violent means, . . . wars, revolutions, seditions,
martial laws, bombs, outrages, crimes ; or, more frequently,
to elude them by sophistry, because that is less dangerous.
How is it that sophistry is never dead of the mortal wounds
which logic has inflicted upon it in so many memorable
duels? Why have all ages hcenced and loaded with gold
an official body of sophists, . . . the lawyers? How could
Socrates believe that he was accomplishing a great moral
reform by teaching men to argue well? Because sophistry
is the arsenal to which man resorts to seek the means of
observing principles when they accord him a right, and to
elude them, while feigning to respect them, when they im-
pose a duty upon him. Now, if man has already resorted
largely to this arsenal in the times when principles were
consecrated by religion, what will he not do today when,
having passed out of childhood, he has discovered the secret
of the game ? The critical spirit is too keen in our age, we
are too old, we know history too well and are henceforth
too much accustomed to enjoy the unbridled liberty in the
midst of which we live ! And you were right again, Caval-
canti, when you said that, if our civilization is to such a
point plastic, progressive, ardent, it is to these facts that it
owes it. The more, then, that a man ages, the more he
grows rich, learned, powerful, so much the more he ought
to repeat to himself, and profoundly to inculcate in his
spirit this supreme rule of wisdom: 'Go forward, without
ever turning thy head to see what arm compels thee; be-
lieve in the principle that thou professest and observe it as
if it were imposed on thee by God, as if it represented the
sole truth, the sole beauty, the sole virtue, the health and
the salvation of the world; discuss not, argue not, com-
promise not; be faithful to thy conviction to the end, with-
out fearing to risk for it thy life and thy fortune; force

76 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

thyself not to lie and not to betray, then no other person
can force thee to do so. But if thy principle breaks down,
resign thyself to its fall as if it had been but a human, con-
ventional and arbitrary limitation of that infinite Truth,
that infinite Beauty, that infinite Good which continues to
circulate in the world through the channel of the new prin-
ciple which has swept away thine own, ' Triumphant quan-
tity, on the contrary, teaches us from the cradle to lie to
others and to ourselves, to perfect ourselves in all the arts
of mystification. Why? Because if, in fact, quantity tri-
umplis in the world today, thanks to machinery, to fire, to
America, it cannot, in spite of all, assume openly and in its
own name the government of the world: for man always
and everywhere, in no matter what condition and at what
moment, requires to translate quantity into quality, and to
believe that the things he makes use of correspond to an
ideal of perfection. Even at a period when the world has
so sadly deteriorated and when almost all the standards of
measure have been impaired or confused in mediocrity ; even
today, I say, no one recognizes a thing as better merely be-
cause it costs more; that is to say, to make quantity the
criterion of quality. Quite the contrary, each wishes to
persuade himself that, if he pays a higher price, it is be-
cause the thing is better; if not it would seem to him that
he was admitting his own folly to himself. That is why
quantity has to take the mask of quality and use fraud to
deceive men and make them believe that, at the very mo-
ment when they are only procuring abundance for them-
selves, they are also seeking after beauty or excellence.
What are all these Smyrna carpets woven at Monza; all
these Japanese goods or all this Indian furniture manufac-
tured at Hamburg or in Bavaria ; all these Parisian novel-
ties made in a hundred places; all these rabbits whom a

TEUTONISM AND LATINISM 77

few weeks suffice to change into otters; all these cham-
pagnes made in America, in Germany, in Italy, if not the
lies of quantity, which steals from ruined and proscribed
quality her last rags ? Who does not know with how many
processes and substances chemistry has furnished industry
for the deception of the public? It is not then surprising
that our society no longer possesses any instrument of
truth and faith which may act upon consciences as did
formerly the oath and honour by which religions and aris-
tocracies constrained man to be sincere when he might lie
with impunity, faithful when he might have been a traitor.
And from that time onwards we see many difficulties spring
up and grow serious in modern society for the solution of
which we tax our ingenuity to find theories, institutions,
preventive measures. But all such efforts remain unsuc-
cessful, because these difficulties are nothing but questions
of loyalty. If the sentiment of loyalty existed, it would
resolve them in an instant." ^

VI

But I seem to see more than one reader smile, and to
hear repeated the objection which a justified scepticism sug-
gests to many persons. '* All these ideas are excellent on
paper. But will it ever be possible to apply them? Will
the evil passions and the interests of men ever consent? "

I do not deceive myself, for example, as to the diffi-
culties that modern States, enfeebled as they are, will en-
counter upon the day when they shall wish to become once
more the guarantors of quality in an economic world so
much vaster and more encumbered than the old. And yet
industry and commerce are not even the field wherein the

1 Entre les deux mondes, p. 370

78 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

ideal of power and the ideal of perfection are destined to
fight their sternest battles. The same principles can apply
to questions far more grave and vital, to which I shall
merely allude, just because they are too grave, and the mo-
ment to examine them thoroughly has not yet arrived. But
there is no doubt at all that the Latin ideal of life, for
instance, would on the day when it should be able to expend
itself afresh in all its strength and coherency, lead Europe
to the limitation of armaments under all their forms, from
the invention of new engines of war to the manufacture
of arms and effective forces. It is in war that the ideal
of power, represented by Germany, has most entirely de-
stroyed all the ancient ideals of moral perfection in which
we believed ; it is in war that a strong reaction will be most
necessary if we desire to save modern civilization from an
irreparable catastrophe. But the limitation of armaments
implies another change, the import of which is even more
tremendous; and which raises, under another form, the
problem of loyalty upon which we have already touched.
It is that the States of Europe consent to limit by treaties,
the one toward the others, and in equal ratio, their sovereign
rights, in view of a superior interest, common to all. It is
enough merely to state this for all its difficulties to be appre-
hended.

And yet it would be an error to consider all these ideas
as Utopias which cannot be realized. They are not, most
undoubtedly, necessities upon which one can count as upon
the accomplishment of a natural law ; but they are possibili-
ties which depend upon the human will. We find ourselves
in a sphere where all depends upon what men want. If one
had said to a man of the sixteenth century that the organ-
ization of the authority and tradition under which he lived
would one day fall, he would have shrugged his shoulders.

TEUTONISM AND LATINISM 79

But man has certainly succeeded in the last two centuries
in overthrowing the principles upon which society was based
even to the point of letting loose on the earth this hurricane
of fire and sword; because he desired the unlimited aggran-
dizement of his power. Let us look at the world : millions
of men are butchering each other; empires are falling to
pieces; riches produced by two generations are melting
away; the fury of destruction rages on the land, on sea, in
the air; twenty centuries of moral progress seem anni-
hilated ; sparks of the immense conflagration have been car-
ried by the wind across the Atlantic. If men have desired
all that which has rendered inevitable this chaotic explosion
of savage passions, is it rash to hope that they will some
day also desire that which would assure to the world a
little more true order, faith, justice, loyalty, charity? But
that which one might call the will of periods, that is to say,
the great currents of the civilizations which succeed one
another, is a very mysterious phenomenon. They seem to
be the work of the human spirit and yet to be superior to
the spirit of each man, as if a people, a nation, a series of
generations, were something more than the aggregate of
the human beings of which these human groups are made
up; as if they enjoyed to the full that liberty of choice
which individuals may avail themselves of in only a small
degree. It is for that reason impossible to say if, and when,
men will desire a more stable and just society than that
which is today struggling in this crisis of mad violence;
and after what endeavours and wanderings they will desire
it. But, whether that day be near or distant, the duty of
the historian, the moralist, the philosopher, does not change.
They ought to set before their contemporaries how, under the
surprises, the horrors and the ruins of this crisis; in all the
contradictions and uncertainties amid which our age strug-

80 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

gles ; in the difficulties which present themselves on all sides ;
and in those, yet greater, which will present themselves;
is lurking this dilemma of perfection and of power from
which the world cannot escape. The struggle between the
Latin genius and the Germanic genius is nothing else than
this. The historian, the moralist, the philosopher, are not
authorized to essert that man ought to prefer perfection to
power. Man will be free in the future to resolve the prob-
lem, as he has been in the past, in deciding for one or other
of the alternatives. But what the historian, the moralist
and the philosopher can, and ought to, say is that it is im-
possible to want both the two at once; and to seek to in-
crease indefinitely, at the same time, these two good things.
Present events furnish conclusive proof of this. Have we
not, for the last two years, seen returning among us what
one considered as the phantoms of ages for ever dead;
sumptuary laws; restrictions upon international commerce
and on the consumption of goods ; the taxation of prices and
wages? Have we not seen all at once thrift, economy, sim-
plicity, the Hmitation of needs, become once more civic vir-
tues, exalted, as at the time of Caesar and Augustus, by
even those who used to wish to banish them, in the name
of progress, from the world? Have we not been obliged
abruptly, from one day to the next, by the force of circum-
stances, to revert to methods and ideas created by periods
which had subordinated economic activity to ideals of moral
perfection? And what does this inspired volte face signify,
save that, whatever he may do, the moment will always
come when man, if he do not do it spontaneously, will be
obliged by the very laws of life to choose between the two
ideals? The whole question for him then reduces itself
into knowing whether he will choose by force, that is to say,
ill, by suffering, and without gain; or if he will choose

TEUTONISM AND LATINISM 81

spontaneously according to an organic and exalted concept
of life and its aims.

All these truths are very simple. But it was perhaps not
profitless to expound them at a moment when the minds of
men are so disturbed. They will be able in any case to
assist some readers to profit by the experience of the author,
who has himself, at the outset, run the risk of losing himself
in the fog of this great intellectual and moral confusion;
and who, thanks to these simple truths, has at least suc-
ceeded in avoiding the misfortune of being an admirer of
the German system in the years which preceded the war.

CHAPTER III
Ancient Rome and Modern Culture

ANCIENT ROME AND MODERN CULTURE

I

Standing on the Capitol, the sacred hill of Rome, after a
long absence spent in foreign travel, I recall the time,
already far distant, when I finally took the resolution of
writing a new history of Rome! Perhaps none of these
memories is sweeter to me than that of the anxieties, the
uncertainties, the doubts which, at the moment of departure,
thronged about my path to hold me back. " Why write a
new history of Rome? Is it to be presumed that our age,
which rushes forward towards the future with such tre-
mendous impetus, should find, in the midst of this un-
bridled career, the necessary leisure to turn its head, were
it but for a moment, and contemplate a past so remote?
Is the moment really come to write this new history of
Rome? Has not history now entered upon its scientific
phase, and is it not consequently bound to prepare the new
synthesis by a long and minute analysis? "

At the moment of departure I was not in a position to
reply to these misgivings with precision and with assurance ;
which would have been serious if history were, indeed, as
some claim, a pure science, whose methods should be rigor-
ously controllable and strictly obligatory. But, luckily, his-
tory is, or can be, something more than a science ; it can be
an art capable of acting in various ways upon the spirit of
men, on their dispositions and on their tendencies. It can,
then, be a form of action ; and action, when it has a raison
d'etre, always ends by becoming conscious of this in propor-
tion as it attains its goal. It is thus that I found the answer
to these distressing questions along the world-roads; and

85

§6 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

for that reason it seems to me I cannot better celebrate this
kind of symbolic return than in bringing from the world
which I have travelled, in all senses, to extol the glory of
Rome, a reply, which involves one of the most disputed
questions of modern culture. And it is this. Roman his-
tory is inexhaustible, immortal, privileged, and never can
it be too much rewritten, especially by those who are the
children of Rome; especially by Italy, her eldest daughter;
because it is complete and synthetic; because, when we em-
brace in a glance the events of the centuries from the Punic
wars to the final schism between the Orient and the Occi-
dent, we observe, distended upon this immense panorama
of two imposing social dissolutions and an imposing recom-
position, that which we could almost define as the woof of
universal history.

How, in reality, does the history of Rome commence?
Not by chaos, like the Biblical history of the universe, but
by order; that is to say, by interior peace; by political dis-
cipline ; by a well-established equilibrium of fortunes, all,
moreover, modest, and almost all rooted in the soil. In all
Italy, in the open country as in the towns, which have not
yet forgotten their origins ; in the midst of the rural popula-
tions as in the middle classes and the residue of the local
noblesse; this peace, this discipline, this equilibrium, are
maintained by means of laws, of religion, of munificence,
of the half-divine prestige of victories, of a high reputation
for wisdom, by the small aristocracy of Rome, which thence-
forth reigns over the peninsula. It is a hereditary but not
exclusive aristocracy; puritan and devout; avaricious and
uncouth ; preoccupied only with having in its hands the most
efficacious instruments of domination, . . . landed prop-
erty, law, diplomacy, religion, government and soldiery;
indifferent or defiant in regard to all else; to philosophy as

ANCIENT ROME AND MODERN CULTURE 87

to art; to Greek culture as to Asiatic creeds; to luxury as
to enjoyment; resolved to seclude itself, with all the Italic
races, which venerate it as an Olympus of demigods, in the
ancient religion and the ancestral traditions; to confine
itself within the limits of that Italy which it has conquered
with such severe toil, and, within those limits, to struggle
against the destiny which impels it toward the empire of the
world. The energy with which it resists destiny is great:
but the moment arrives when the force of circumstances
breaks down its resistance. What a change then! From
the second Punic war onwards the equilibrium of the ancient
society changes under the action of the two most formidable
revolutionary powers which in all ages, modify the face
of the world ; new needs and new ideas. After the empire
has extended beyond the seas, after its riches are increased,
after points of contact are multiplied with the refined civil-
ization of the Hellenized East, there grow up, in all the
social ranks, generations avid for facile gains; indocile,
aspiring to a wider and more gladsome existence, desiring
a broader culture. Many ancient fortunes go down in the
current of the new prodigality, many new fortunes arise
from it. The aristocracy grows impoverished or depraved ;
or, disgusted, isolates itself in regret for the good old times;
or flings itself into exoticism. And thus, little by little,
the ancient moral unity disappears; the very foundations of
the State are split.

Everywhere, in religion, in the family, in the Republic,
discipline breaks down. The order of knights, puffed up
by riches ; the middle classes, invigorated by ambitions and
embittered by poverty; revolt against the nobility revered
for so many centuries ; interests, which the power of a class
sure of its dominion no longer holds in check, engage in a
fierce struggle among themselves, in the very heart of the

88 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

State, and rend it more; little by little gold corrupts all;
and, for the spoiling of that which gold has not the power
to corrupt, there is suspicion; the sombre pessimism which
poisons souls ; so that there is nothing which is not, or which
does not appear to be, incurably rotten. To the ancient
social harmony there succeeds a furious scission of factions
and coteries animated by bitter hatreds, each of which up-
braids in the others its own vices. Greek culture pene-
trates and diffuses itself easily in this society, already so
disturbed by discords, distrust, and indiscipline; but, at the
same time as it refines or strengthens the intellects, it in-
creases the disorder. Gusts of revolutionary fury pass over
Rome and Italy ; and to such an extent that, during the first
twenty years of the century which precedes the Christian
era, the pious republic of Camillus and Fabricius seems to
dissolve into bankruptcy, anarchy, defeats; into the sense-
less rage of dissensions, and, finally, into civil war. How
many times, in these fatal years, did not even the most
intrepid spirits fear that over this sacred hill, in that Forum
where today, with a filial piety, we seek for the relics of
those ages, there should pass, as over the ground where
Carthage stood, the cultivators' plough, obliterating for ever
the last vestiges of the nefarious and blood-soaked city !

A terrible man, Scylla, saves the Empire by recreating
for it an army by dint of money and pillage; and restoring,
with this army, by strength of terror, a rough social dis-
cipline. But, once he has gone, and in proportion as the
treasures of Mithridates, conquered by Lucullus, are trans-
ported to Italy, the fever for sudden gains, the frenzy of
luxury, the ambition for conquests, little by little breaks out
again. For a moment this aged State seems to recover a
fresh vigour. Pompey, following the example of Lucullus,
conquers Syria; the dominant oligarchy wishes to enrich

ANCIENT ROME AND MODERN CULTURE 89

itself in the provinces and among foreign potentates; those
who are not able to conquer an Empire levy contributions
on the States and small principalities which tremble before
the shadow of Rome; the courts of the petty Eastern kings,
such as that of the Ptolemies at Alexandria, are invaded
by ravenous knights and senators, who, after extorting
money, return to spend it in Italy, where luxury makes rapid
progress ; and, with luxury, debts ; and, with debts, the hel-
lenistic and oriental cultures; meanwhile, amid the incessant
agitations of this age, there grows up and pursues his way
the fatal man, Caesar. The day comes when finally this
predestined man crosses the Alps and invades Gaul, bristling
with forests and armies, to seek there glory and treasure.
The State then falls into the power of parties, greedy, auda-
cious, energetic, unscrupulous; but changeable as the inter-
ests which they serve and of which they make use : and
these parties, by their continual quick changes and restless,
underhand dealings, corrode in the aged State the scanty
discipline which Scylla had, with great difficulty, re-estab-
lished.

After thirty and more years of such a peace, barely toler-
able and laboriously maintained, there recommences a civil
war, or, to put it better, a frightful tempest which sweeps
away first the remains of Scylla's constitution, then the
dictatorship of Caesar, then the Senate and what survived
of the Roman aristocracy, then the revolutionary trium-
virate, as well as all other States, great and small, on the
confines of the Empire, among them the throne of the
Ptolemies. What remains standing? Ruins accumulate on
all sides, men ask themselves if Rome be the greatest or the
most wretched of cities. One of Rome's most lucid spirits,
matured in the midst of these vicissitudes, discerns every-
where a decadence which precipitates from bad to worse :

90 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

Aetas parentum, pejor avis, tulit
Nos nequiores, mox laturos
Protem vitiosiorem.

And yet it is the last step towards the apogee. After
this supreme ordeal the Greco-Oriental culture, which had
disaggregated the ancient Italic society, transforms itself
into a force of social reconstruction; it re-establishes little
by little, in the Mediterranean basin, whose conquest has
changed the situation, a fresh balance of interests, of aspira-
tions, of ideas, of sentiments. Thanks to the peace, the
barbarous West learns to till the land, to cultivate the woods,
to sink mines, to navigate the rivers, to speak and write
Latin both well and badly; it grows civilized, it purchases
the products manufactured in the old cities of the East. In
proportion as the new markets of the West afford it outlets,
the East reopens the workshops of its industrious artisans
and the busy shops of its traders ; it once more sets in cir-
culation its former traffic upon the roads extended by the
sword of Rome. Thus the ancient oriental civilizations,
Egypt, Syria, Asia Minor, rejuvenate by contact wnth the
young western barbarisms. Between them stands Italy,
excellently placed to dominate this empire around the Med-
iterranean, where the West balances the East ; where Gaul,
admirably developed since the century which follows the
conquest, forms the counterpoise to Egypt, which has blos-
somed forth again. For the first time the Mediterranean
becomes as an immense and tranquil forum where, under
Roman supervision, Europe, Africa and Asia come into
contact, exchange their produce, their customs, their ideas.
From this an easy peace originates, in Gaul, in Asia Minor,
in Spain, in Northern Africa, — new middle classes, new
provincial aristocracies ; while at Rome the last remains of
the old Roman aristocracy, of that aristocracy which, by

ANCIENT ROME AND MODERN CULTURE 91

tradition, occupied itself only with war and politics, ends
by dying out. The new aristocratic families, recruited in
the provinces, replace it. They have received a vigorous
Roman education, they have sought to assimilate the ideas
and manners of the old aristocracy of the Urbs. But the
tendencies of the age make themselves felt; the military
and political spirit declines in this new aristocracy; pre-
occupations as to culture, administration, justice, urban civil-
ization, a keen inclination towards Hellenism, grow and
gather force. This is the reason why, by degrees, one fam-
ily, which seems to fear its own fortune, is obliged to assume
all the privileges and all the responsibilities shared during
many centuries among numbers of noble families. We
shall never understand the history of Rome if we do not
understand that the Julia-Claudian family was obliged to
assume and exercise, in spite of itself, a power which, in-
sensibly, became monarchical, in the same way as the Roman
nobility had been obliged to found, in spite of itself, the
Empire of which it was afraid.

There is summed up in this contradiction what might be
called the philosophical essence of Roman history; since it
was the destiny of Rome to perish through its conquests.
It is, in fact, soon annihilated by the Empire it has founded.
In proportion as the East flourishes once more and the West
expands; in proportion as the prosperity, the number and
the power of the middle classes and the provincial aristocra-
cies increase; the immense Empire assumes the form, no
longer of a formidable engine of political and military do-
minion, but of one of those highly refined urban States that
Hellenism had produced in the East. Created by a puritan
and strictly national aristocracy of diplomatists and war-
riors, the Empire falls into the power of an aristocracy and
bureaucracy, cosmopolitan, pacifist, lettered, philosophical;

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whose amalgamation is effected throughout the Empire, not
any longer by a real or imaginary community of origins,
traditions and history, but by a brilliant, though superficial,
literary and philosophical culture, and by the political re-
ligion of the Empire and the emperor. The force of co-
hesion which internally binds together the enormous bulk of
the Empire is no longer merely warfare and law; it is,
above all, the urban civilization of the Hellenized East.
In the same way as the Emperor at Rome, so do the rich
families in the provinces dispense part of their wealth to
beautify the cities; to increase the profits, the comforts and
pleasures of the people; they build palaces, villas, theatres,
temples, baths, aqueducts; they are liberal of corn, oil,
amusements, money ; they endow public services or establish
charitable foundations. The Empire is covered with great
and small cities, which rival each other in splendour and
beauty; all expand through the constant influx of the poor
populations of the campaigns, of artisans, of peasants grown
rich. Schools are opened wherein the young of the middle
class, by learning rhetoric, literature, philosophy, and law,
prepare themselves for the bureaucratic functions which,
from generation to generation, increase and ramify. It is
this lettered and philosophical bureaucracy which introduces
into the Roman law, originally empiric, the philosophical
and systematic spirit; which introduces into the adminis-
tration, originally authoritative, the juridic spirit. And it
is thus that, during the second century, the Empire displays,
in the sunshine of the Pax Romana which illumines the
world, its innumerable cities all resplendent with marbles.
But, alas, for but a brief period; for a fresh dissolution
commences. The urban and cosmopolitan civilization which
had linked, one with another, the various parts of this incon-
gruous empire, begins, in the course of the third century,

ANCIENT ROME AND MODERN CULTURE 93

to act as a dissolvent force, which throws this brilliant
world back into the chaos from which it had drawn it.
Little by little, with the spontaneous growth of the cities
and of their luxury, that which the urban civilization con-
sumes, exceeds the fertility of the campaigns, and these
become depopulated; drained by the cities which absorb
their population and their wealth. What human force will
ever drive from the cities the rural populations after they
have once tasted the conveniences, the pleasures, and the
vices, of a refined civilization? Hereafter the Empire is
devoured alive by the cities which swarm upon its enormous
body. To nourish the populations which there crowd to-
gether; to amuse them and to dress them, the campaigns
are harassed by a terrible fiscal regimen ; agriculture is
ruined; the material arts perish; finances break down; the
administration falls into disorder; and soon the day will
come when within the empire, by a monstrous inversion of
the natural relations of things, the craftsmen of pleasure
and luxury will multiply endlessly, while there will no
longer be any peasants to till the fields, any bakers to make
the bread, any sailors to plough the seas, any soldiers to
defend the frontiers. It is the beginning of a social dis-
solution, the history of which is not yet written; in the
midst of which there supervenes the greatest moral fer-
mentations the world has ever undergone for the mysticism,
the cosmopolitanism, the antimilitarism, the conflict which
causes the old educated classes and the ancient Greco-
Roman culture to clash with the barbarians, who invade
the empire from without and from below, as well as the
innumerable religious aberrations in formation; culminates
in Christianity, which elaborates a superior morality, but
whose spirit denies the very essence of the Empire; and
destroys the vital substance of that ancient civilization.

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The Empire defends itself with the fury of despair, but
without success. East and West separate, and the West,
abandoned to itself, falls into decay. The greatest of the
works of Rome, its empire of the West, covers with its
ruins the immense territory which borders upon the Rhine
and Danube; enormous ruins of fallen monuments, peoples
returned to barbarism, arts abolished, languages forgotten,
laws torn to pieces or mutilated, roads, villages, cities, oblit-
erated from the face of the earth and reabsorbed by the
primeval forest which, slow and tenacious, puts forth its
shoots in this cemetery of a civilization, that covers the
colossal bones of Rome.

II

Such is the tree which sprang from the little seed sown
in this Roman soil. For centuries this tree has been felled.
Why, then, do men yet come, from all parts, to dig with
ardent curiosity in the place where it had its roots? Be-
cause in none of the States which, in turn, predominated
could the forces of dissolution and reconstruction, which
make and unmake civilizations, operate during so long a
series of centuries with so much liberty as at Rome, without
being either retarded or accelerated by exterior perils and
shocks. Because of this, Rome is truly a unique phenome-
non in the history of the world. From the destruction of
'Carthage, until far on to the most calamitous period of its
decadence, Rome had doubtless some severe alarms: yet
she never experienced serious and lasting exterior dangers.
Therefore she could yield herself to the operation of the
internal forces which, from century to century, intervened
to modify her; and for this reason her history is, as I have
said, a complete history. It exemplifies how an empire is

ANCIENT ROME AND MODERN CULTURE 95

constituted and disintegrated; how a historic aristocracy
is broken up, and how a democracy can perish of exhaus-
tion ; by what internal processes a republic is converted into
a monarchy; a military and national State transformed
into a state of lofty culture, and little by little exhausts
itself entirely in intellectualism, exoticism, humanitarianism,
cosmopolitanism. It shows how an authoritative regime
ends by gradually enchaining itself in a very complicated
juridical system; it produces many revolutions and reac-
tions; a great variety of repercussions of internal politics
upon external, and conversely; we can there study to per-
fection what is, perhaps, the most mysterious and the most
disturbing of all historical phenomena; the violent moral
repulsion which, especially at their first appearances, is
aroused by the civilizations which, later on, matured or
dead, are admired as the chefs d'oeuvres of the great
peoples. Lastly, we see how a political religion is de-
stroyed by a lofty literary and philosophical culture, and a
new mystic religion arises which shapes itself from the
debris of this same culture ; as well as all kinds of minglings,
contacts, encounters and conflicts between young and old
peoples; between ancient civilizations and barbarisms; be-
tween different States, religions and laws. It would take
too long were I to enumerate all the elements of universal
history which this history of Rome presents, gathered to-
gether as in a synthesis, and, for greater convenience,
grouped around one centre which is Rome itself; whence
it is so easy to survey, in its ensemble, the immense pano-
rama. But I do not think I exaggerate in stating that the
history of Rome is complete and synthetic; and that, in
her, all ages can discover something of themselves and
behold themselves as in a mirror.

Moreover, the history of modern civilization proves this.

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It is a well-known fact that, above all during the last three
centuries, after powerful States had begun to reconstruct
themselves upon the political compartition of the Middle
Ages, Rome, its history, its literature, its military system,
its legislation, were regarded as an historical mirage, pro-
jected by the past in front of the generations which sought
the road to the future. It has furnished different models
to all generations for the resolution of the most opposite
political problems. In the seventeenth and eighteenth cen-
turies Rome is the example which all the great monarchies
founded in Europe held before them ; in the eighteenth and
nineteenth centuries the history of the Roman Republic, by
the fervent cultus of Brutus, by the Scandalous romance of
the Julii Claudii which Suetonius and Tacitus transmitted,
fomented the opposition against absolute monarchy. After
the French Revolution Rome once more supplied to mon-
archy, as argument and means of persuasion, the Csesarean
vindications of Drumann, Duruy, and Mommsen, and the
panegyrics lavished on the imperial government. It may
even be said that the most celebrated histories of Rome
written in the nineteenth century were only written in view
of the conflict which had begun between the republic and
the monarchy. And it is precisely for this reason that, the
struggle between these two political principles having grown
weaker during the last quarter of the nineteenth century,
not only have the histories of Rome so conceived grown
antiquated, but many people are persuaded that the interest
manifested up to that time in Roman studies has no longer
any raison d'etre. " We live, they say, in the century of
electricity and steam. The task of our age is to satisfy
the middle and the popular classes, who want, not war and
revolutions, but a more secure and agreeable existence. We
ought to work indefatigably to create the prodigious riches

ANCIENT ROME AND MODERN CULTURE 97

which, alone, can satisfy the new desires of such numerous
multitudes. An ancient history, wholly filled with military
expeditions and political enterprises, is inevitably destined
to become irrelevant to a century which needs machinery
more than laws, chemists and physicians more than warriors
and literary men. " To which they also add that Latin,
which until the last century remained a half living language,
finally died out in the nineteenth century, stifled by the
luxuriant growth of national tongues and cultures, buried
beneath the ruins of the political power of the Church which,
in idiom as in many other things, had prolonged the Roman
Empire. Is it not obvious that the death of the Latin
language marks, for Rome, the beginning of a new, supreme
and irreparable downfall?

And, yet, when it was practically demonstrated that, even
in the century of electricity and steam, it was an easy thing
to reawaken the interest which formerly attached to Roman
studies, many persons, to explain this phenomenon, attrib-
uted it to the somewhat violent remodernization of it, . . .
praiseworthy according to some, very reprehensible accord-
ing to others . . . which I had accomplished. But those
who are acquainted with Latin literature know that I have
modernized Roman history far less than is asserted ; on the
contrary, I have returned to an ancient point of view, the
point of view from which Livy set out, and which, more-
over, does not really belong to him, since it is common to
many other writers of the same period. That history of
Rome, which some have deemed so revolutionary, is already
quite complete in embryo in the short preface that Livy has
prefixed to his great work, regretting the simplicity and pur-
ity of the old manners, tainted by the corruption which, little
by little, invaded Rome. In analysing this doctrine of the
" corruption " which so long absorbed the Roman mind,

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it is easy to discern in the three capital vices, avaritia,
amhitio, luxuria, the continual increase of the needs and
ambitions which, at the dawn of the twentieth century,
condemn us all to work hard. The avaritia is the passion
for gain; the amhitio is what we call '* arrivisme," the in-
controllable pulsion by which all men strive to advance
themselves to a position superior to that in which they were
born ; the luxuria is the passion for ever increasing comfort,
luxury, enjoyment. But if we thus disentangle the old
doctrine of *' corruption " from the moral and political
prejudices with which it was charged for its contemporaries,
the history of Rome, with all its revolutions, its wars and
its conquests, . . . that immense history which, for so many
centuries past, stands out before our civilization as a very
marvel, is easily reduced to a phenomenon which each of
us can understand without difficulty, since at this very
moment this phenomenon surrounds us on all sides. That
is why the century of electricity and steam, in looking
through the glass adjusted twenty centuries ago by Sallust
and Livy for less modem observers, is able not merely to
cast its glance into the midst of that terrible and confused
history, and discern its depth, but also to recognize itself
therein.

How many analogies, with its ow^n existence, has not the
age of steam and electricity met with, dispersed throughout
that ancient history, which was believed to have become
incomprehensible! It has found, for instance, some of the
struggles to which parties give themselves up today in
France; certain horoscopes drawn in England of the des-
tinies of the Empire and the fate of the debilitated aris-
tocracy ; the conflict, so keen in America, between the puritan
tradition and the civilization of money. It has also, and
above all, discovered the supreme law of the doom which

ANCIENT ROME AND MODERN CULTURE 99

hovers above its own head; that is to say, that implacable
and mysterious irony of life which annihilates in their
triumph all the supreme efforts of humanity ; the tragic dis-
illusionment of all the generations which have had the
fortune or misfortune to live at a time when an historical
era approaches its zenith, when a foreboding seizes them
that the better their effort succeeds, the more useless it
becomes. In the same manner as Rome was destroyed
through her conquests, losing therein her military and politi-
cal virtues, her very essence; so our civilization, grown
capable of producing vast riches, thanks to a culture per-
fected by centuries of labour, now destroys that culture
little by little by burying its noblest features, its art, litera-
ture, philosophy, religion and politics, under the illusion of
new riches prematurely produced; by sacrificing, for the
benefit of quantity appreciable by the gross evidence of
number, the quality whose standards of measure can never
be defined in an indisputable manner, and which, for that
very reason, is a perpetual cause of discord at the same time
as it is the sole source of true greatness. It has found, in
short, in that ancient history, the subtle anguish that funda-
mental contradiction brings into all the historical periods
which approach their culminating point. Just as Rome
suffered from altering her nature in her triumph, and be-
lieved herself lost on the eve of her apogee, so do we always
deem our riches more inadequate in proportion as they in-
crease; by dint of wanting to make life pleasant and easy
we encumber it intolerably with complications, responsibili-
ties and duties; by force of desiring to economize time and
toil we reduce ourselves, among the innumerable occupations
which encumber our life and spirit, to lacking even the time
to remind ourselves of ourselves, and almost forget that
we are men.

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III

This is the torment, and perhaps also the expiation, of
all the generations which flattered themselves that they had
succeeded in creating a novel and unique destiny, greater
and more beautiful than that of all the preceding genera-
tions. No generation would deserve to undergo this tor-
ment more than our own. For this reason also, the history
of Rome presents to us a reflection of our own lives, in
spite of the centuries which separate us. This is the dis-
tinguishing feature of Roman history, and the reason why
all the children of Rome must not let it be banished. By
classical studies and, consequently, by Roman studies, we
have little by little set up an opposition to that practical
and positive spirit deemed to be the highest virtue of our
age. But upon what basis? For answer, it is sufficient to
ask one question. Is it possible to imagine that the progress
of the mechanical arts and chemical sciences may one day
result in rendering statesmen, administrators, diplomatists,
jurists, generals, educationalists, men of letters, philoso-
phers, ministers of religion, of no use in the world? It is
very clear that it does not suffice for men to dominate
nature; they must also know how to influence the minds
of their fellows. By the answer given to this question, the
much disputed problem of classical studies is also settled,
at least in principle. It is not the physical sciences, but
only literature, history and philosophy which can serve as
means of intellectual preparation for the elite whose func-
tion it is, not to act upon matter, but to influence minds;
not to exploit the forces of nature, but to regulate the inter-
course of men. Hence it is not possible to conceive our
civilization despoiled of its literary, historical and philo-
sophical culture any more than it is possible to conceive a

ANCIENT ROME AND MODERN CULTURE 101

living being deprived of a vital organ. What is, indeed,
the essential difference between these two states of his-
torical development, which we call civilization and barbar-
ism, if not this, that, in a civilized society, those who govern,
who administer, who judge, are endowed with a lofty philo-
sophical and literary culture; while in barbarous countries
and epochs they accomplish their functions by conforming
to old undisputed traditions, by referring to the simple pre-
cepts of gross religions, supplementing what was lacking,
by rude natural instincts or by blind passions?

But if we admit this . . . and I do not see how we
can refuse to admit it ... it is absolutely necessary to
recognize that, in the future as in the past, Rome will form
an integral part of that lofty culture; unless, indeed, the
peoples who are its children, by an ill comprehended spirit
of false modernity or an access of unhealthy exoticism,
insist on razing to the very foundations the last remains
of its great history. Complete and synthetic, easy to
adapt to all periods, as facts prove ; agreeable to study ; vast,
but not to such a degree that it exceeds the comprehensive
forces of the human mind ; this history is, in a way, a very
distinct miniature or a very lucid sketch of universal history.
It can thus serve, among modern peoples, as the crowning
touch to the education of the upper classes which, every-
where, ought to commence with the national literature and
history. Let us not be discouraged by the transitory deca-
dence of this intellectual tradition. If our century is pro-
foundly materialistic, if it goes on dividing and subdividing
itself into a great number of different peoples, languages
and cultures, it will have yet more need of the common
elements of culture uniting the elite of the civilized nations
more deeply than in the momentary promiscuousness of
sumptuous hotels; In the brief meetings of congresses, or

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in the universal mania for flying over all the roads of the
world in automobiles. The national principle is too deeply
rooted in our civilization for it to be possible for the modern
world, at least in a near future, to transform itself into a
Cosmopolis; but it can not and ought not again to become
a Tower of Babel where all the languages are confused.
Therefore it also requires, if I dare say so, an ideal common
language and universal elements of culture which can form
so many links between the different peoples of Europe and
America. Where are these universal elements to be found,
now that religion has lost a part of its influence? Ancient
Rome can yet offer us some of these, as is proved by this
undeniable fact: the history of Rome, with that of France
in the eighteenth century, and of the French Revolution, is
the only one which is truly universal and everywhere read.
That being so, is it necessary to employ many words to
prove that the children of Rome have an interest in not
suffering this privilege to be proscribed? So long as the
history, the literature, the law of Rome, remain an integral
part of the higher culture of Europe and America, we, Latin
peoples, enjoy a kind of intellectual entailed estate; we
oblige all the peoples of two continents to be tributaries of
our culture ; we shall prolong for centuries, in the realm of
ideas, that Roman Empire whose body has been reduced to
dust. I do not ignore that our century hankers after em-
pires more solid than these domains of the invisible, which
cannot be measured, divided, enlarged, or exchanged. But
if, in modern civilization, the higher culture is not destined
to become the humble handmaid of finance and trade, never
can that invisible empire be abandoned without detriment
and shame by the peoples who have received it as a heritage
from their fathers : all the more . . . and this is a consid-
eration to which the practical spirit of the modern times

ANCIENT ROME AND MODERN CULTURE 103

ought not to be insensible ... it is not necessary, for its
conservation, to have recourse to the force of arms and of
money, nor to combine the efforts of peoples, institutions
and parties, nor to risk perilous enterprises. It would
suffice to reanimate, both in the State and in the intellectual
classes, a profound, sincere and disinterested sentiment for
the great Latin tradition, in place of the restless, capricious
and litigious esoterism which rules there today. If the his-
tory of Rome can perform this unique function in Euro-
pean-American culture it is due to the fact that it is a perfect
unit. But, if we break up this unit into a number of frag-
ments, in what will these fragments differ, and how will
they be distinguished, from the analogous fragments which
make up the histories, more fragmentary and more unila-
teral, of so many other peoples? In itself and by itself a
Latin inscription is worth exactly as much as a Greek in-
scription or a Phenician inscription; a ruin of a Roman
monument is worth exactly the same as a piece of a wall
at Mycenae. Perhaps, even, the relics of Rome are worth
less, since they are more abundant and relatively easy to
discover. But, what is unique in the history of Rome is
the plan that can be reconstructed from these materials.
There is, then, a safe criterion for estimating the studies
accomphshed relative to Roman antiquity as well as to their
tendencies; and it is this that, when the analysis is not an
immediate preparation of the synthesis, it is a method un-
duly transferred from the natural sciences to phenomena
which do not permit of it; moreover, it is a vandalism and
a sacrilege, a kind of destruction of Rome perpetrated upon
the last intellectual remains of its vast empire.

Indeed, if we seek the intellectual and inner reason, . . .
setting aside some external and social causes which are,
nevertheless, numerous and important, ... of the decay

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of classical studies, we shall find that it is due to the abuse
of analysis, become an end unto itself both in literary and in
historical studies. For motives it would take too long to
set forth the studies of antiquity, which in the course of
the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, arose from the dis-
solution of the old humanism, separated themselves more
and more from art and philosophy, and, in the end, threw
themselves wholly into the arms of science; or, they thought
to throw themselves there ; for, in point of fact, they clasped
only a shadow. The results of this error are manifest
today. In the schools analysis, carried to an extreme, has
given the death blow to Latin which was yet vegetating, a
century ago; by substituting for the old humanist teaching
a philological analysis, whose aridity has caused the younger
generations to fling aside in disgust the most beautiful books
of Rome. In the domain of history this excessive analysis,
by arbitrarily distorting the phenomena, has strangely con-
fused both the rules according to which the problems should
be stated, and the methods which serve to solve them. It
has invented many chimerical problems, and it has not seen
the true ones. By its obstinate resolve to know too many
details, it has often rendered incomprehensible even that
which, in spite of the hiatuses, was relatively clear. Finally,
it has obliged history to repudiate art, and has thus shut
us out from those histories which at all epochs, by means of
Thucydides, Polybius, through Livy, down to Francesco
Guicciardini, had been one of the most forcible intellectual
stimulants of all the aristocracies truly worthy to govern.

IV

Such are the reasons why I think that every man of true
culture, jealous of the intellectual prestige of the Latin

ANCIENT ROME AND MODERN CULTURE 105

nations, should exert himself to draw forth the Roman
studies from the silent cloisters of erudition, to bring them
back to the midst of the life, the passions, the interests and
the struggles of the world. Ancient Rome ought not to live
only in the little coteries of scholars and archeologists. It
ought to live in the soul of the new generations; project
its immortal light upon the new societies which are arising.
For, on the day when Roman history and its monuments
become but dead materials, useful only for erudition, which
would classify and catalogue them in museums beside the
bricks of the palace of Khorsabad, the statues of the As-
syrian kings and the relics of Mycenae, . . . the Empire of
Rome which, as yet, is not entirely dead, would rejoin, in
the Elysian Fields of history, the shades of the destroyed
empires; would wander there beneath the cypresses in com-
pany with the Babylonian Empire, the Egyptian Empire, the
Carlovingian Empire ; and the Latin civilization would have
to submit to a new disaster.

Let us not prove unworthy of the singular historic for-
tune we have inherited ; let us understand fully what there is
that is rare, and even unique, in that ideal survival of an
empire fallen so many centuries ago ; and which, eliminated
from the play of the interests of the world, yet lives in the
system of moral forces which animate modern society; let
us not listen to those who affirm that, henceforth, the sacred
remains of ancient Rome can no longer serve but as sup-
ports for the aeroplanes flying majestically above the silence
of the Latin campagna. Let us try above all, — we who,
for forty years past, have brought within the old circuit of
the Aurelian walls the tools, the ideas and the interests of
a quite recent civilization, — not to deserve the reproach
that hke new barbarians, we destroyed what survived of
that Empire of Rome that the Church carried on, with vary-

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ing fortunes but without flagging, since the frightful catas-
trophe of the Empire of the West. Roman tradition can
flourish, a vigorous branch, upon the trunk of our civiliza-
tion, provided we do not obstinately resolve to cut it away ;
provided that we apply ourselves to preserve to Roman
studies that universal value which alone can render them
an essential element of modern culture. It matters little
if the other histories grow old; what is necessary, on the
contrary, to Roman history, precisely because it serves to
educate the new generations, is that it be renovated per-
petually, not merely by incorporating in it the new facts
discovered by erudition and archeology; not only by infusing
into it a larger philosophical spirit and by applying to it
the ripened experience of humanity ; but, above all, b}'^ work-
ing to preserve for it, and to increase in it, that quality
which is the highest in which a history, destined to be read
and studied by all, can excel : to wit : human clarity.

And, if such be the obligation which imposes itself upon
all the devoted sons that Rome yet numbers in the world,
it seems to me that, to conclude this discourse delivered on
the anniversary date of the foundation of Rome, I could
not do better than perform an act which will be in some
sort a symbolic expiation addressed to the shade, so cruelly
offended by the nineteenth century, of a man to whom the
city owes, indeed, some gratitude since it owes him its
existence ; I mean to say, to resuscitate Romulus. We know
in what a mystical penumbra the Natale Urbis is enveloped.
What beginning had the fabulous greatness of this city?
In all the centuries men would have been glad to rend this
mysterious veil. But, century and century, we were con-
tent to repeat a legend, full of poetry, although a little con-
fused, wherein miracles and wonders surrounded the cradle
of the city. Generations and generations had cursed the

ANCIENT ROME AND MODERN CULTURE 107

villainous Amulius, lamented the unfortunate Numitor and
poor Rhea Sylvia, cherished the good Faustulus, meditated
on the shade of the Figtree Ruminal, caressed in imagina-
tion the maternal v^olf and saluted the kindly woodpecker
who descended to nourish, and shelter under her wings, the
predestined twins. That this tale was a tissue of fables
the ancients had understood ; but they had respected its out-
line, at first from civic devotion, afterwards through a reli-
gious respect yielded to old traditions, and finally because
they were incapable of substituting another more exact ac-
count. Man must so often resign himself not to know!
But then comes on the scene the terrible nineteenth century
which claims to know everything, believes itself capable of
discovering everything; and seizes in its rough hands this
tissue of fables, tears it, unravels it, persuaded that it will
find the truth among the separated threads; reduces it so
thoroughly to ravellings that, finally, what remains in its
hands is no more than an inextricable medley of dead ma-
terial. The ancient fable has vanished with all its per-
sonae ; the woodpecker has flown back into the sky ; the she-
wolf has retired into the forest; Romulus himself, the re-
vered and deified founder of the city, is now no more than
a name; and all that remains in place of the legend is a
tenebrous void sounded in vain by ingenious historians with
the long measuring rods of hypothesis, without their suc-
ceeding in finding therein a single rag of truth !

And yet, since Rome has existed, it is clearly necessary
that it must have had a beginning intelligible to the human
mind. Now, may there not be in the ancient fable a gleam
of intelligible truth? After one has cut away from the
legend the poetry which enfolds and impregnates it, it seems
to me that it stands up as a sufficiently trustworthy and sub-
stantial, although very summary, account; that is would

108 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

say that Rome was a colony of Alba whence a part of the
population of that old city swarmed from the mountain
towards the sea. The city of Rome did not originate, then,
from a small village which grew, little by little, by favour
of circumstances. It was a city founded at one stroke, by
an act of personal volition, according to a studied design,
in an intentionally chosen place; a city which was, in con-
sequence, endowed from the first with an already mature
religious and military and political institutions, since, on
the one hand, they had undergone, in another more ancient
city, the test of long experience ; and on the other they had
doubtless been adapted with discretion to the peculiar con-
ditions of the new creation.

In short, this was a city which was born grown-up, like
certain cities which are founded today in America; it was,
from its very beginnig, a new city with an old culture.
This explains both its mar\'ellous position in Latium, upon
a river, between the sea and the mountains, and the exact
account that the ancients kept of the date of its founda-
tion; its sudden and bold entry into history, and the rapid-
ity of its development. But if Rome was created in this
manner, it could be founded only by one or several leaders
who selected its site and who ordered all its plans with
wisdom. Obviously this leader was a great man. And
since a founder was necessary to found Rome, what reason
have we to deny that the founder was this Romus or Romu-
lus of whom ancient tradition speaks? As I am accused
of so many grave misdeeds by modern criticism, I ac-
knowledge myself still further guilty of admitting that
the scanty knowledge we possess as to the origin of Rome
is contained entirely in the ancient tradition; and that, to-
wards the middle of the eighth century b. c. a prince of the
family which reigned at Alba came, for motives which

ANCIENT ROME AND MODERN CULTURE 109

the legend allows us with difficulty to guess, into this cir-
cuit of hills, and founded upon the Palatine a little city
which he launched into eternity.

V

I say that he launched it into eternity : for it is yet possi-
ble to attribute to Rome the glory of being eternal without
falling into the pompous hyperboles of decadent rhetoric,
if we mean thereby that what has rendered complete the
history of Rome is the synthetic effort, the labour long sus-
tained to balance all the parts of its civilization into a har-
monious and proportioned unity; if we add that, thanks
to these characteristics, its literature, its law, its history will
be eternally the models upon which all the peoples who
desire to make of their own history a harmonious synthesis,
a complete whole which recommends itself by clarity, by
order and by noble proportions, will keep their eyes fixed.
The finest example of this in modem times is France, the
nation which, unquestionably, has created the greatest his-
tory of the last centuries. Profoundly imbued with the
classic spirit, France alone has succeeded, among all Euro-
pean nations . . . and, moreover, has accomplished it, like
ancient Rome, at the cost of formidable crises ... in cre-
ating a complete civilization, wherein, as in Roman history,
everything is found, although in a more restricted lapse of
time : trade and agriculture, aristocracy and democracy, the
monarchy and the republic, the higher culture and war,
art and law, philosophy and religion, revolution and tradi-
tion, the interior effort after liberty and the exterior effort
for expansion, all the practical interests and all the ideal
aspirations. If it is understood in this sense, the eternity
of Rome is a conquest which, gained over time, ought

110 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

ceaselessly to recommence. For if civilization, in its most
perfect expansion, is a synthesis of opposed forces, these
syntheses are only prepared by long periods in which the
sentiment of vital unity is lost, and in which men neither
understand nor admire the circumstantial phenomena of
history. Now, without doubt, we live in times when the
world is becoming daily more unbalanced in her too greatly
augmented bulk. We witness the final demolition of a
society created on the ruins of the ancient world by Chris-
tianity ; at that demolition which Humanism and the Refor-
mation had begun, which the science and philosophy of the
seventeenth century have continued, which the French
Revolution was to accelerate by its tremendous impetus
and which is consummated in our century with a furious
ardour, by the progress of industry and commerce, the uni-
versal mania for making money, and the extraordinary
development of America. From this immense revolution
of history in the midst of which we live, from this supreme
dissolution of an order of things so ancient and venerable,
monstrous creatures are everywhere being born : States half
barbarous and half corroded by the vices of the most de-
crepit civilizations; enormous and shapeless cities; armies
which grow inordinately in spite of the rapid decadence of
the military spirit; fabulous riches which accumulate with-
out other object than their own increase ; gigantic industries
which are no longer upheld by the natural stay of agricul-
ture; philosophies divorced from practice and dying of
asphyxia in an atmosphere too rarified by purely intellectual
preoccupations ; sciences which dive so deep into the prac-
tical that they are suffocated by it; arts and literatures
which claim to be their own origin and to have come into
the world without fathers or ancestors.

There is, then, no occasion to be surprised that, in a

ANCIENT ROME AND MODERN CULTURE 111

period unbalanced to this point, the nations which, Hke
France, have succeeded in effecting a Roman synthesis of
their various parts, are obHged, to maintain it, to make
efforts daily more laborious; and that all the Latin v^^orld,
Italy included, more and more lose confidence in its great
intellectual tradition and daily inclines more to take dis-
order for strength, confused obscurity for profundity, in-
coherent extravagance for originality, wealth and its in-
creasing mass as the sign of the greatness of peoples.
There is no occasion to be surprised, perhaps ; but there is
indeed occasion profoundly to regret it. If then the world,
in growing, and becoming complicated beyond measure,
seems to flee from the synthetic and harmonic power of the
Latin genius to fling itself into a delirious orgy of huge
and disorderly forces, it is but the more urgent for us, the
sons of Rome, to strain all our energies in order to subju-
gate to the harmonic genius of our race this horrible and
imposing chaos of blind forces. If all civilization be a syn-
thesis of opposite forces, the confusion of modern society
must some day find a more beautiful and wiser equilibrium.
What an error it would be, and how could posterity pardon
our generation and those which shall follow ours, if we
should let venerable traditions of social order and intel-
lectual discipline perish at the very hour when these tradi-
tions, rejuvenated in conformity to the spirit of the times,
could be of the greatest use to the world by reason of their
co-ordinating virtues; the tradition which is summed up in
the word " Rome " so often repeated during these twenty-
seven centuries, and with such various feelings ; at the sound
of which I have yet been able, in this twentieth century, . . .
and it will be the most precious memory of my life, . . .
to see almost two continents vibrate with admiration and
gratitude !

CHAPTER IV
Italy's Foreign Policy

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY

On the evening of February 29th, 1896, General Baratieri,
the commander-in-chief of the Italian army in Abyssinia,
left Sauria with all the troops at his disposal — about
15,000 — in order to carry out a mancEUvre whose object is
still unknown. This movement proved disastrous. After
marching all night, the little army lost its way in the laby-
rinth formed by the Raio and Abba Garima ; it split up into
three sections which lost touch with each other and was
surprised by 100,000 Abyssinians, armed with excellent
rifles. About 8,000 men fell, 2,000 were taken prisoners;
the remainder escaped as best they could, abandoning their
guns.

Unfortunate as it was, this defeat was after all only a
set-back. Only four Italian brigades had taken part in
the battle of Adowa but the check came upon the country
at a moment of discouragement and anxiety. Italy had for
some years been passing through a serious economic crisis
and the pessimism which was the result of this crisis was
aggravated by political dissensions. Crispi, who had been
in power for two years, had not given the country a mo-
ment's peace. Sicily and the Lunigiana had been placed
under martial law in order to repress disturbances as to the
gravity of which opinions differed ; whilst conflicts had been
provoked both in Parliament and the country by the perse-
cution of the Socialist party whose progress had alarmed
the upper classes and by the increased taxation proposed by
the government at this critical time and the conquests and

115

116 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

annexations made by General Baratieri in Abyssinia. The
wide-spread irritation had been further increased by various
scandals. The African policy was especially unpopular in
a country which had never been used to overseas campaigns.
All these causes turned a mere colonial incident into a dis-
aster whose consequences were both complex and profound.
The whole history of Italy up to the outbreak of the Euro-
pean war, was, as it were, haunted by the sinister memory
of this set-back, which had impressed the nation as an ir-
reparable defeat.

As soon as the news became known, the country was
shaken by anger to its very depths. The Ministry was
forced to resign, so as to avoid the storm which it had not
the strength to resist. King Humbert called upon the Mar-
chese di Rudini, a great Sicilian nobleman and the leader of
the Opposition, to form a Cabinet. Rudini was a man of
wide intelligence but not sufficiently resolute. He decided
not to attempt to avenge the Italian defeat, which would
have been an enterprise fraught with difficulty for geo-
graphical reasons; he concluded a peace with Emperor
Menelik and endeavoured to quiet the people by putting an
end to the persecution of the Socialists, and coming to an
understanding with the parliamentary representatives of the
Radical party which voiced the wishes of the lower and
middle classes. The Socialist deputies were at this time
but few in number. Di Rudini did not succeed in winning
the confidence of the masses but only in annoying the Court
and the upper classes. The masses, who realized that de-
feat had weakened the government, expressed their dissat-
isfaction with an audacity which struck terror into the
hearts of the Court and conservative parties, who had for
some time been haunted by dread of a revolution. Ere
long the Socialists accused Di Rudini of tyranny because he

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 117

would not accede to all their demands ; whilst at Court and
in the lobby s of the Chamber and the Senate it was whis-
pered that he had come to an understanding with the
Radicals and Socialists in order to set up a republic. Di
Rudini tried to make the best of this impossible situation
which had been brought about by the irritation of one party
and the fears of the other, but after two years the catas-
trophe could no longer be warded off. The failure of the
crops in 1898 provoked riots all over Italy, which began
in the south and took on a more and more political char-
acter as they spread northwards. At the beginning of May
violent popular disturbances broke out in Milan, a city
which was always a source of anxiety to official circles.
The Socialists and Radicals were stronger in Milan than in
any other town and the Republicans, too, exercised consid-
erable influence, while the lower and middle classes had
always affected a certain indifference to the monarchy.
Milan had moreover always been obstinately opposed to
Crispi and his African policy. When Rome learnt that
riots had begun at Milan there was a repetition of the phe-
nomenon which had taken place after the battle of Adowa.
On that occasion a colonial set-back had been regarded as
an irreparable defeat. Now agitations which could have
been easily suppressed by an energetic police force took on
the dimensions of a revolution in the eyes of the upper
classes. Panic broke out in official circles and spread over
the whole country. The troops were ordered to fire with-
out hesitation. Hundreds of persons were killed or
wounded both in Milan and other cities. Martial law was
proclaimed at Milan and elsewhere. The Di Rudini Cabi-
net resigned and was succeeded by General Pelloux, a
native of Savoy, who inaugurated a policy of violent perse-
cution of the three parties of the extreme Left — the Social-

118 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

ists, the Republicans and the Radicals. Deputies, journal-
ists and prominent members of these three parties were ar-
rested, brought before courts martial and sentenced to five,
ten and even fifteen years of penal servitude.

Such a reaction could not last and before long the coun-
try realized the injustice of these sentences and a fresh
series of agitations began with the object of obtaining a
general amnesty. The government made certain important
concessions to public opinion on the subject, but at the same
time tried to introduce laws limiting the liberty of the press
and the right of holding public meetings and forming asso-
ciations. A group of deputies of the Right and Centre,
headed by Sonnino, supported these measures vigorously,
on the ground that it was absolutely necessary to defend
the State against the rebellious spirit of the masses; while
the Radical, Republican and Socialist deputies organized
obstructive tactics against these proposals on the ground
that it was necessary to defend the cause of liberty. The
struggle grew more and more acute and developed, or ap-
peared to develop, into a conflict between the reactionary
party and the champions of liberty, for, three years after
the battle of Adowa, the government had not the requisite
authority to break down the opposition to its restrictive
measures. The three parties of the extreme Left, which
knew that they had the country with them, succeeded in
placing the Cabinet in such an awkward position that it was
forced to dissolve the Chamber. The three parties then
made common cause and obtained one hundred seats at the
general election which took place in June, 1900, whereas
in the old Chamber they had never held more than fifty.

This general election was looked upon as the defeat
of the reactionary government, Pelloux resigned and the
King called upon Saracco, an old Piedmontese senator who

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 119

was supposed to hold liberal views, to form a new Cabinet.
Saracco formed some sort of Ministry and the newly elected
Chamber adjourned. This was in July. Every one was
well aware that Saracco's Cabinet was merely a stop-gap
and that the decisive struggle between reactionaries and
liberals would begin in November. The situation was ex-
tremely difficult and obscure, all the more so because the
King and the Court, whose prestige had suffered consider-
ably through the battle of Adowa, had been still further
compromised in popular opinion by the recent reactionary
policy. It was, moreover, obvious that no government
would be strong enough to carry out a systematic persecu-
tion of the Socialists, Republicans and Radicals. But was
the King likely to wish or be able to carry out any policy
differing from that which had hitherto met with his ap-
proval? Would he, or could he, throw off all the influ-
ences which urged him to a death struggle with the parties
of the extreme Left? This uncertainty troubled the whole
political world and still further complicated a situation which
in itself was far from simple, when fate solved the problem
in a manner both unexpected and tragic. On July 29th King
Humbert was present at some sports near Monza. At nine
in the evening he left the grounds to return to the royal villa.
Just as he was standing up in his open carriage to return the
greetings of the crowd, a man who had got up on a chair a
couple of yards off, as if to get a better view of the sovereign,
pointed his revolver and fired upon the King, who sank back,
mortally wounded.

II

It was under such circumstances that Victor Emmanuel
III ascended the throne. Curiously enough, he was unpop-

120 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

ular with the people. He was supposed to have chosen the
German Emperor as his model and to intend to make war,
persecute the Socialists and govern with an iron hand.
Fortunately all these rumours proved utterly unfounded.
Parliamentary circles quickly discovered that the atmos-
phere of the Court had undergone a complete change. The
elections of 1900 and the assassination of King Humbert
had afforded people food for thought. All of these causes
tended to bring about a speedy reaction. The Chamber, of
which the majority had after all been elected in order to
support a Cabinet which proposed to introduce laws limit-
ing the liberty of the press and the right to hold public
meetings, and form associations, suddenly saw the error of
its ways and brought about the fall of the Saracco Cabinet
on the ground that it had illegally dissolved a workmen's
syndicate at Genoa. The King then turned to Zanardelli,
who formed a liberal Cabinet. Once the King and the gov-
ernment had become liberal, conversions in the press, in
Parliament and in the official world became startlingly fre-
quent. In a few months not a trace was left of the reac-
tionary policy of recent years, which was abjured by all,
with the exception of Sonnino and a small group of faithful
disciples, prominent amongst whom was Salandra, who had
been a member of the Pelloux Cabinet.

The man, however, on whom all eyes were fixed when
the new Cabinet made its appearance before the Chamber,
was not Zanardelli, but his Minister for the Interior, Gio-
htti, who had been Prime Minister in 1892, when he had
tried to form a great " Liberal " or " Progressive " minis-
try. In this he had failed. At the end of 1893, when he
resigned, the exchange was at 18% ; Sicily in a state of
revolt ; the finances in disorder, public opinion depressed by
the scandal of the Banca Romana and convinced that Italy

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 121

was on the verge of bankruptcy and revolution, and that
GioHtti alone was responsible for the whole catastrophe.
This view was exaggerated. Giolitti's ministry had un-
doubtedly made serious blunders, the gravest of all being
one of which it was never publicly accused — that of sup-
plying Emperor Menelik with two million cartridges, but
the condition of the country at the time of its resignation
was due to profounder causes than the blunders of the
Giolitti ministry. None the less the people revenged it-
self for all it had suffered by accusing Giolitti of having
brought Italy to the very brink of ruin and he had become
so thoroughly unpopular that for years he could not attempt
to speak in the Chamber. People even got into the habit
of speaking of him as if he were dead !

The curiosity aroused by this political resurrection is
therefore readily understood. Giolitti's influence moreover
steadily increased both in the Cabinet and in Parliament
and obliterated the memories of the past. He surprised all
political parties by a complete and sudden change of front
towards the working classes and the parties of the extreme
Left. Hitherto the government had endeavoured to pre-
vent strikes by all the means which a suspicious and obscure
legislation, interpreted in accordance with the known wishes
of industrial magnates, put at its disposal. Giolitti allowed
the first strikes which took place after he came into office
to take their natural course ; in certain cases he even ordered
the authorities to assume a benevolent attitude towards the
workmen. The Socialists w^ere of course delighted, but
strikes became steadily commoner and the consequent re-
monstrances of the manufacturers and employers more con-
stant. Giolitti held firm and, when his policy was discussed
in the Chamber, declared plainly that the workmen had the
right to strike in the defence of their interests and that the

m EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

State must remain strictly neutral. It was a revolution on
a small scale. In the division on this debate, Socialists,
Republicans and Radicals voted for the government, thus
ensuring it a majority in the House and bringing about a
radical change in the relations between the government and
the parties of the extreme Left. On the Right a group of
deputies, headed by Sonnino and Salandra, passed over to
the Opposition, on the ground that the government was
compromising the authority of the State. At the same time
a split took place in the three parties of the extreme Left.
In each of these parties the majority asked for nothing bet-
ter than to carry the possibilist policy to its logical end,
while the minority protested against these attempts to turn
the party into a government party. The struggle between
the two tendencies was especially violent in the Socialist
party which split up into two factions: the Revolutionary
and the Reformist.

Giolitti finally found himself, like the Marchese di Rudini
before him, between the Socialists, who accused him of a
hypocritical change of front, and the Conservatives, who
accused him of flirting with revolution. This position,
which had been Di Rudini's weak suit, proved Giolitti's
trump card. Times had changed. The Court was no
longer hostile to Liberalism, whilst even in the conservative
ranks there were many who recognized that Giolitti's meth-
ods, while not without their drawbacks, were more suc-
cessful than Pelloux's policy had been. Moreover the
economic crisis of 1890-1900 was now a thing of the past.
An era of prosperity had begun, and this prosperity lulled
much discontent to rest and turned the energy of many
people in other than political directions. The simultaneous
attacks made upon Giolitti actually strengthened his posi-
tion. If the extremists of both Right and Left attacked

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 1^3

him, it was argued that he must represent the happy medium,
and in spite of various untoward incidents his influence
steadily increased during 1901, 1902 and 1903 and when,
in the autumn of 1903, ZanardelH resigned on the ground
of old age and ill health, the King entrusted Giolitti with
the formation of a new Cabinet. The Ministery of 1893
was definitely relegated to limbo and Giolitti was avenged.
He formed his second Cabinet and to the general surprise
appointed Tittoni, the Prefect of Naples, who had hitherto
taken no active interest in politics, Minister for Foreign
Affairs.

Ill

Once Giolitti had regained his position, his one idea was
to place it on a sure basis. If we are to understand his
policy and his success, we must understand the working
of the parliamentary system. The Chamber is composed
of 508 deputies, elected by the votes of the district. Of
these 508 " electoral colleges," as they are called in Italy,
there are perhaps 200 in which the deputies are elected by
organized political parties. In the remainder, the deputies,
though taking their seats in the Chamber on -the Right, Left,
or in the Centre, as the case may be, do not represent any
definite political creed. Their organization being either
excessively feeble or altogether lacking, the candidates are
chosen and supported by rival -cliques, having no political
character and quite unable to carry off the victory without
assistance. In these " electoral colleges " the decisive fac-
tor of success is almost always government support.

It is, therefore, possible for the Prime Minister in power
at the time of a general election — provided he be also
Minister of the Interior — to create a personal party in
these " electoral colleges " which will return deputies whose

lU EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

only political program is the support of the man to whom
they owe their election. It is also clear that if a statesman
were in power during several general elections, this personal
party might easily become the preponderating element in
the system. This happened in Giolitti's case. The first
elections during his term of power in the reign of Victor
Emmanuel III took place in 1904 and brought him in a rich
harvest. He succeeded not only in creating for the first
time a staunch and powerful personal party by making full
use of every means of administrative pressure within his
reach, but, owing to the circumstances under which Parlia-
ment had been dissolved, in gaining the support of many
Conservatives without breaking with the Extreme Left,
who had lost twenty seats owing to the public irritation
caused by a general strike which had taken place just before
the dissolution of Parliament. This election added im-
mensely to his prestige and it was soon rumoured in parlia-
mentary circles that the King wished general elections
should henceforth take place under Giolitti's auspices.
This rumour, though false, was quite as useful to Giolitti
as if it had been true, and established his power on a firm
basis. The three general elections which have taken place
during the reign of Victor Emmanuel III have all been
during Giolitti's terms of office as Prime Minister and Min-
ister of the Interior.

Giolitti thus was able to strengthen his party and graft
on to parliamentary institutions a curious system of personal
government. The keystone of the whole system was of
course the fact of his being in power at the time of general
elections. The fear of a dissolution of Parliament, which
is entirely in the hands of the King, was therefore, Giolitti's
most formidable weapon for the maintenance of the fidelity
of his majority. The dissolution of Parliament is not,

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 125

however, a weapon which can be constantly used, since the
Chamber cannot be dissolved within a month after its elec-
tion. During the first two years of a new legislature Gio-
litti's authority over his party and the Chamber as a whole
was of necessity weaker and the Chamber could more easily
show signs of independence. Giolitti got over this difficulty
by on each occasion resigning a few months after the gen-
eral election. He carried out this manoeuvre in the spring
of 1905, towards the close of 1909, and in the spring of
1914. But if during the first two years of its existence the
Chamber was intractable even with the author of its being,
it can readily be imagined that it was still more so in the
hands of a locum tenens. Hence this interim government
was invariably weak and fell into general disfavour in a
year or fifteen months. Giolitti's friends brought about its
fall and Giolitti formed a new Cabinet. Two years had
passed of the five which make up the legal life of a legis-
lature and the deputies were already beginning to think about
the next general election. Timor mortis initium sapientiae.
The Chamber became tractable once more and Giolitti re-
mained in power until the general election.

This ingenious game was accompanied by a process of
attrition applied to the political parties represented in Par-
liament, of which there are five: the Clerical; the Sonnino
group, which may be termed Conservative; the Radicals;
the Republicans and the Socialists, who are now divided
into two groups — Official and Reformist. Each party is
represented by from twenty to fifty deputies and is therefore
too small to act alone, while coalitions between parties are
very difficult on account of their numerous differences. At
the head of his personal party Giolitti was able to induce all
these parties, with the exception of a few obstinate individ-
uals, either to give him their support or to form an opposi-

U6 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

tion which would do him no harm. How was any other
state of things possible? The opposition of any one of
these> parties, standing alone, was powerless and coalitions
were never a success. Giolitti's Cabinet, moreover, did its
utmost to conciliate every one and to content all parties and
shades of opinion, however contradictory. It gave the
Socialists liberty to form syndicates and turn the railways
into State concerns, while at the same time granting the
great industries all the privileges and all the protection they
demanded and guaranteeing the landed proprietors the in-
tangibility of the import duty on cereals. It increased the
stipends of the clergy and showed itself favourable to Cler-
ical influence in the schools, whilst choosing influential
Free Masons as Ministers of Public Instruction. In order
to please the masses it reduced the term of military service
to two years, refrained from imposing higher taxes and
gave up all schemes for colonial extension, whilst at the
same time increasing both army and navy to please the
upper classes and the Conservatives. It allowed its officials
to form syndicates, threaten to go on strike and do their
utmost to shake off the authority of the ministers, and even
rewarded these proceedings with a rise of salary. It al-
lowed Italy to get on better terms with France without
breaking off the Triple Alliance. It had adopted the prin-
ciple of yielding always and at once to any fairly decided
manifestation of public opinion or to anything which ap-
peared to be such a manifestation, while prepared to with-
draw the concession the moment public attention was
directed elsewhere. Almost heroic strength of mind and
even cruelty would have been needed to attack such an oblig-
ing government. Such principles will no doubt seem
strange to most people and, as a matter of fact, the system
of which it was an example has almost disappeared in

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 127

Europe, but similar governments have been common enough
in the past and in other continents. Caesar and Augustus
went upon the same plan: the former in order to achieve
the conquest of Gaul, the latter in order to reorganize the
Empire. There are other interesting analogies in the his-
tory of Florence and in that of the South American Repub-
lics. Such a system is, moreover, the necessary outcome
of an electorate which is not dominated by properly organ-
ized political parties. Sooner or later some individual,
family, or group of families, will take possession of the
electoral system and work it for their private ends. This
system, moreover, put into practice for ten years in Italy by
an intelligent, adroit time-server, endowed with a clear head
and a firm will, could not fail to produce remarkable re-
sults. It enabled Italy to benefit by the period of prosperity
which the world enjoyed after 1900; it eliminated a certain
number of abuses from the legislation and the administra-
tion; and it checked the antidynastic movement which had
gained ground during the last years of King Humbert's
reign. Nor must it be forgotten that it was under this
government and in part due to its efforts that an historic
event of considerable importance took place: the shifting of
the pivot of power from the aristocracy and the upper mid-
dle classes to the intelligentia, the lower middle classes and
the masses. The dogged struggle between the parties of
the Extreme Left and the other political parties which went
on during the whole period of Giolitti's power was in
reality a struggle for power between the wealthy and middle
classes. This is not the place to discuss whether this shift-
ing of power has been for good or evil. In any case it is
an event of considerable historical importance, which must
be due to profound causes, since it is a universal phenome-
non. We must not forget that the Prussian aristocracy

128 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

thrust Germany into the European War for the express
purpose of delaying this shifting of power in Germany.
Giolitti did much to further this movement with his system
of personal government by supporting to the utmost the
demands and wishes of the middle classes.

There is, however, the reverse side of the medal to be
considered. The system had many drawbacks. Whatever
its merits, this personal government acted under the cloak
of parliamentary institutions and this contradiction between
substance and form could hardly fail to produce serious
results. Discussions, divisions, parties, the formation and
fall of ministries, the interaction of majorities and minori-
ties and the elections, everything in fact which forms the
essence of the true parliamentary system, became under this
kind of government more or less thinly disguised fictions,
serving merely to give a legal sanction to proceedings most
of which were decided upon without reference to the will
of either parliament or the electors. At the same time all
political parties found themselves in a false position forced
as they were to adduce principles as a reason for conduct
which was in reality more often than not determined by a
policy of parliamentary bargaining. The Socialists were
in the most awkward position of all. The Electors, who
understood nothing of these complicated intrigues, regarded
their deputy, who, while in Rome, was on excellent terms
with Giolitti, as the representative of the masses and the
champion of social revolution. In proportion as he became
more and more opportunist and possibilist in Rome, the
Socialist deputy had to redeem his backsliding by becoming
more and more revolutionary in his speeches to his con-
stituents, or at Monte Citorio on great occasions, when his
constituents were keeping a watch on his words and actions.

While there were many who found this state of things

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 129

quite congenial, others regarded it as both dangerous and
objectionable. One phenomenon especially proved a source
of irritation : the decadence of Parliament. It is an indis-
putable fact that both the Chamber and the Senate are of
less value today than twenty years ago. In the Chamber
there was formerly a small, by no means united, but very
influential circle, which has almost entirely disappeared and
been replaced by a herd of provincial attorneys, idle and
intriguing university professors, professional politicians of
the lowest order and wealthy men who regard a seat in
Parliament as a rung on the social ladder. This decadence
is even more serious in the Senate, whose members are all
chosen by the King, — i.e. : the government. In old days the
Senate was a close but select body. By filling it with the
dregs of the intellectual and academic world, it has been
turned into a centre of intrigue which the public refuses to
take seriously. Giolitti's government undoubtedly did
much to bring about this decadence, for, like all personal
governments, its main object was to fill the two chambers
with devoted and reliable adherents of no great intelligence,
many of whom were easily to be found in those middle
classes with which it was so anxious to stand well. To this
serious defect must be added the debilitating effect on the
State of the habitual weakness of the government when
confronted by public opinion. The government's policy of
yielding to every fairly decided manifestation of public
opinion and of withdrawing the concessions granted when
public attention had been diverted to some other subject,
certainly enabled it to avoid many difficulties, but it grad-
ually enervated the whole State, which fell into the hands
of ministers, deputies and officials who trembled before the
daily papers, which in their turn were terrified of public
opinion, which, failing to recognize in the papers the reflec-

130 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

tion of its own ideas and passions, was led and dazzled by
the press which it regarded as a higher authority. Where
are we to seek the true centre of action and decision in this
vicious circle of fear? It is hard to say. It must not be
forgotten that governments which strive to please every one
commonly end by pleasing no one. Giolitti's government
was peculiarly exposed to this danger because Italy, since
her unification, has had a permanent cause of complaint
which must be recognized — one connected with the great
transformation of modem civilization of which we have
already spoken at length — one which may aflford us the key
to events which would otherwise be inexplicable.

IV

The constitution of the Kingdom of Italy was at once a
political and a social revolution. Together with parlia-
mentary institutions and bureaucratic centralization, the
new order of things introduced what is commonly called
modem civilization: railways and industrial machinery,
both of which the old regime discouraged energetically as
liberal conceptions and institutions. Public and private
expenditure increased considerably. Large sums were
needed for the construction of railways, the creation of
army, navy and administration and for educational pur-
poses. The country was therefore obliged to endeavour to
produce more. For Italy, too, the epoch of quantity was
dawning.

Italy, taken as a whole, is neither very poor nor very
rich. She is richer than the impoverished countries of
Southern Europe, but poorer than the wealthy ones of Cen-
tral Europe. She is, moreover, very small. It is too often
forgotten that France is nearly twice as large as Italy and

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY ISl

that she has a population of thirty-four milHon inhabitants
to an area of 300,000 square kilometres, wholly devoid of
coal and almost destitute of iron. It is obvious that such a
country was better off in the days of qualitative civiliza-
tion, when wealth had not as yet become a prime factor in
the development of a nation. Be that as it may, the march
of history could not be checked and Italy was forced to
submit to the law of our age and toil in order to increase
the wealth of the country. Her efforts were crowned with
success; they developed the riches of the country, its energy,
activity, spirit of initiative and even its intelligence, at all
events in certain directions. The poor peasantry of South-
ern Italy learned to tread the world's highways as emi-
grants. The people and the middle classes acquired the
habit of hard work, extended their technical, economic and
political knowledge and enlarged their ambitions. This
effort, however, brought about in the generation born after
i860 the ruin of the intellectual, artistic, social and religious
traditions of the past, which had already been partially de-
molished by the generation of the Risorgimento, and was
one of the causes of the triumph of German influence which
had already begun to make itself felt by the generation of
the Risorgimento, more especially after 1866 and 1870.
The joint effect of this effort and of German influence was
to dissociate the generation born after i860 from the con-
ceptions which the French Revolution had spread through-
out the world — ideas in which the generation of the Risor-
gimento had believed — and to replace them by a dreary
materialism. A superficial observer might have been de-
ceived into seeing signs of a fairly active intellectual life in
Italy during the last twenty years. It has even been
alleged that this period has seen a revival of idealism in
direct contradiction to this excessive materiahsm. This in-

132 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

tellectual life is, however, but apparent. The present gen-
eration has no thought to spare for anything but how to
achieve an increase of salary, income, profits and produc-
tion; how to develop industrial machinery, increase the
prosperity of all classes, and ensure the progress of the
country, in accordance with the crudely quantitative con-
ception of progress with which the masses are satisfied in
the present day. It has subordinated everything to this
end; it has asked nothing of art but money and pleasure;
nothing of science and philosophy but useful discoveries, a
pleasant social position and teaching which in no way ham-
pers it in its pursuit of business. The intellectual classes
have enjoyed a high degree of liberty, as is always the case
in ages which cease to demand a high degree of perfection
in every sphere of intellectual activity, and they have made
the most varied uses of this liberty. The majority has
striven to acquire money, honours and desirable positions
by pandering to the public taste for amusement and minis-
tering to powerful public interests. In spite of all this a
certain minority endeavoured to prove that it could produce
work of real value in literature, philosophy, art and science ;
those who took the matter seriously by doing serious work
and the more frivolous by taking advantage of the igno-
rance of youth and the conceit of the educated classes foist-
ing on the public productions which had little to recommend
them but novelty and eccentricity, both frequently borrowed
from other countries. It must be admitted that this second
class was the more successful of the two, as well as the
larger, since it knew how to exploit the ignorance and indif-
ference of a day which looks upon the tonnage of mercantile
shipping, bank deposits and the output of blasting furnaces
as the only realities of existence.

This conception of life, which had obtained the upper

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 133

hand in Italy perhaps even more thoroughly than in other
countries, was the channel by which German influence was
brought to bear on Italy. Germany's prestige is often at-
tributed to her victories. This applies to the generation
which entered upon the Triple Alliance in 1882 and wit-
nessed the wars of 1866 and 1870, but not of its successor
which had, moreover, a far greater admiration for Ger-
many. It may safely be stated that in the last ten years
all Italy, — professors and manufacturers. Socialists and
Conservatives, free thinkers and clericals, philosophers and
musicians alike, had been infected with Germanophilia.
Germany was regarded as the universal model, because she
had realized the quantitative formula of progress better than
any other nation and was the land where population, wealth,
production, commerce, army and navy were increasing most
rapidly. German order and discipline seemed admirable
to this generation which, by the way, took very good care
not to imitate them, because they seemed important factors
in this giddy process of development. France, on the coun-
trary, with her tendency to consolidate her actual position
rather than to develop it, was looked upon as an effete and
decadent country. In spite of the affinity of language, race
and culture, France had become a sort of enigma. The
educated classes in Italy, who were becoming more and
more dominated by the purely quantitative conception of
progress, did not understand the tragic position of a country
whose demographical conditions, traditions and historical
tendencies alike impelled it to develop in the direction of
quality, whilst forced to do so in the direction of quantity
by the competition of its neighbours and above all by the
preposterous and menacing growth of its foe. Thus Ger-
man influence triumphed all along the line. Everything —
army, banks, railways, industry, socialism, science, philoso-

134 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

phy, schools and universities alike — became Germanized.

This state of mind could not fail to influence the duration
of the Triple Alliance. Immediately after the accession of
Victor Emmanuel III a change became noticeable in the
tendencies of foreign policy. The new King went to Petro-
grad and Paris, but not to Vienna. Prinetti, who was
Minister for Foreign Affairs during the first administration
of the new reign, was a pronounced opponent of the Triple
Alliance. He often remarked to his friends — and events
have proved him a true prophet — that there would be no
lasting peace in Europe until Germany had received a thor-
ough thrashing. There was clearly a desire to draw closer
to the group of powers which was soon to be known as the
Triple Entente. Unfortunately Prinetti fell ill and the mo-
ment Giolitti became Prime Minister with Tittoni as Min-
ister for Foreign Affairs the old triplicist policy once more
gained ascendancy. How is this change of front to be ex-
plained? Undoubtedly the Russo-Japanese War had much
to do with it, while it is also possible that secret influences
were brought to bear.

Even without these factors, however, it would have been
extremely difficult to detach Italy from the Triple Alliance
so long as the upper classes continued to regard Germany
as the universal model. The Triple Alliance, indeed, which
had for long been opposed, had come to be accepted by all
classes of late years, just when it had become a constant
menace to the peace of the world and was paving the way
for the present catastrophe. It must not be forgotten that
the Cabinet which committed the outrageous blunder of re-
newing the Triple Alliance in 19 12 contained three Radical
ministers, two of whom were amongst the most rabid
Germanophiles in the Cabinet.

Italy was progressing then, at least according to the pres-

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 135

ent day conception of progress, and she was very proud of
the fact. Was she equally content? No. I have re-
marked elsewhere that the glorification of national pride is
a necessary condition of the development of modem civiliza-
tion, which is based upon industrialism and elected institu-
tions. Wealth neither is nor can be an aim in itself; it is
and only can be a means. Now whatever the advantages
ensured by modern civilization to the masses and the middle
classes, it is very doubtful whether these advantages com-
pensate many people for the burdens it lays upon them:
constant and strenuous work, strict discipline, loss of per-
sonal liberty in factory or office, military service, etc. It
was not, therefore, sufficient for the quantitative epoch to
show the masses the riches of the earth in order to arouse
their zeal and activity; an ideal had also to be sought and
found in one of the simplest and strongest passions which
moves the soul of man: pride. The initiative and activity
of all nations was aroused by the argument that the increase
of wealth was a means of increasing the power and great-
ness of the country and of showing other peoples its own
superiority. This was the case in Italy. As Giolitti's grasp
of power grew firmer and prosperity increased, the country
listened more and more readily to those who, whether in
prose or poetry, told it that Italy either was, or was about
to become, the first country in the world. Unfortunately,
in a period which gauges the worth of a pyeople by statistics,
neither poet, nor philosopher, nor statesman could double
the limited territory or discover in it coal fields like those
of Lorraine or Westphalia. By strejiuous and well directed
efforts Italy did, it is true, succeed in increasing her wealth,
but this increase was of necessity on a more modest scale
than that of other nations to whom nature had been kinder,
and gave rise to constant comparisons mortifying to the

136 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

national amour-propre which became more sensitive as the
nation advanced. Why should its efforts, which were quite
as great and even more arduous than those of other peoples,
be less productive of results ? Moods of self-congratulation
alternated with fits of despondency, during which the coun-
try attributed its inferiority to its frivolity, lack of disci-
pline, military weakness, irresolution, inability to imitate
the Teutonic virtues and, above all, to its government —
the malleable, easy-going, prudent government which never
dared to offend any one. The contradiction between the
form and the substance of this government, democratic in-
stitutions working in a country which had almost entirely
lost faith in democratic principles, could not fail to foment
tlie general uneasiness. The intellectuals and the politi-
cians never ceased to foster these opposing mental attitudes
by propounding every imaginable theory and thus adding
intellectual to moral perplexity. The country as a whole
was in a perpetual state of self-contradiction, which was
reflected in the behaviour and ideas of individuals and par-
ties alike, and had made public opinion extremely nervous.
This nervousness and this tendency to sudden anger and
equally sudden changes of front created at times extremely
difficult situations even during the rule of Giolitti. At
bottom the country was really vaguely striving after an
ideal of life both loftier and more complete than progress
regarded as mere Increase of the wealth of the world and
perfecting of the machinery used by man. It failed to find
this ideal either in the present or the past. It must also
be borne in mind that Italy has not escaped the moral de-
terioration and self-disgust brought about by economic
materialism and the dominion of wealth in all modern coun-
tries in which classic learning is not confined to professors
and libraries and in which Christianity is something more

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 1S7

than merely the official religion. This explains why the
country became more and more dissatisfied both with itself
and others just when it might have congratulated itself on
its progress, why Giolitti's unpopularity grew in proportion
to his power and why he was reproached more particularly
with those aspects of his policy which, by pandering to the
passions and vices of the period, ensured his own success.
The contradiction was inherent in the situation itself and
came to a crisis in the Tripoli campaign.

V

In order to understand aright this war and its origin, we
must be thoroughly acquainted with the history of Italian
home affairs from November, 1909. In March Giolitti
had presided over a general election for the second time.
In autumn, when Parliament met, he resigned, as was his
wont. The leader of the Opposition at this time was Son-
nino, but his party only numbered about thirty deputies;
Giolitti, who was anxious to secure a year's rest, intended
to make his majority support the Sonnino Cabinet, but
Sonnino, a man of great force of character, was extremely
unpopular with the majority, who obliged him to resign in
three months. A more pliable man was called to take his
place — Luzzatti — who, however, proved too pliable, too
impressionable and too susceptible to flattery. He began
with two acts of weakness : he included four Radicals in his
Cabinet, two as ministers and two as under secretaries of
state — and he promised to introduce a measure for the
extension of the suffrage. These two acts were conces^
sions to the Extreme Left — the party in the Chamber
which Luzzatti had most reason to fear. The former was
much more to the mind of the Extreme Left than the lat-

138 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

ter. Ever since Giolitti's return to power all but a very
small minority of the Radicals and Socialists had become
more and more desirous of holding the reins of govern-
ment, in spite of their relatively small number, with the
help of Giolitti's personal influence. The example of Mil-
lerand and Brand had turned the heads of a good many
Socialists and consequently Socialists, Radicals and even
part of the Republican party were extremely pleased to see
four Radicals in the Cabinet. It was the thin end of the
wedge. The suffrage question was much more compli-
cated. As at this time no one who was unable to read and
write could be placed on the register, illiteracy and indif-
ference reduced the number of electors to about three mil-
lion. The Socialists had for long demanded imiversal
suffrage, but they did not really attach any great impor-
tance to it, and demanded it mainly because they knew that
the government would not grant it. Giolitti himself had
opposed any such measure only a few years previously.

By these two concessions Luzzatti had hoped to secure
the support of, at all events, the benevolent neutrality of
the Extreme Left. In this he succeeded but at the cost of
gaining the ill will of the majority. This preference for
the Extreme Left was not in the least in accordance with
sound parliamentary principles. As for the extension of
the suffrage, it met with great opposition, owing to the com-
plicated nature of the system proposed by Luzzatti. The
majority would gladly have brought about the fall of the
Ministry, but Giolitti was not as yet inclined to resume
office and this time he succeeded in instilling patience into
his followers. The resulting situation was extremely curi-
ous. In the Chamber the majority did its utmost to put ob-
stacles in the path of the Radical ministers, who were not
men of any special ability; the Extreme Left in its turn

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 139

opposed the Cabinet ministers who belonged to the major-
ity; while these ministers intrigued against their Radical
fellow ministers both in the Cabinet and in the Chamber.
Luzzatti endeavoured to gain time by making great speeches
and promising everything which was asked of him. The
prestige of a government soon disappears under such cir-
cumstances. Giolitti remarked once that Luzzatti lost votes
wholesale in order to gain them retail. Dissatisfaction
became so general both in country and Parliament that the
Luzzatti Cabinet fell in March, 191 1, and Giolitti was
forced to resume office.

He had reached the zenith of his power. Luzzatti's gov-
ernment had created such a universal sense of irritation that
Giolitti was hailed as a saviour. The Exertme Left hoped
that he would form a great democratic Cabinet in which
many of its members would hold office; the majority that
he would dismiss the Radical ministers and abandon Luz-
zatti's sweeping democratic measures; the country con-
tented itself with hoping that he would govern firmly. The
Extreme Left came off better than the majority. Giolitti
even offered a portfolio to a Socialist, Bissolati, and when
this offer was refused, retained in the Cabinet the four
Radicals appointed by Luzzatti and added two more to
their number — a minister and an under secretary of state.
The new Radical minister, who was destined to play the
most unfortunate part in this ill-fated Cabinet, was Nitti,
who was nominated Minister of Agriculture, Commerce and
Industry. But if the composition of the new Ministry did
not fulfil the expectations of the majority, its program had
still more unpleasant surprises in store. As for the exten-
sion of the franchise, Giolitti brought in a much simpler
bill than that suggested by Luzzatti : he proposed to grant
manhood suffrage, with the one provision that electors who

140 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

could not read or write should not be allowed to exercise
their rights until they were thirty years of age instead of
at twenty-one. He further proposed to make life insurance
a State monopoly.

It was not to be wondered at that Giolitti should continue
Luzzatti's relations with the Extreme Left in his own pol-
icy. He had always striven to rally the extreme parties to
the monarchy, while at the same time endeavouring to shift
the pivot of power from the wealthy to the lower and
middle classes. Since the three parties of the Extreme Left
are those representing the middle and lower classes, Gio-
litti might well think it the part of wisdom to give these
classes a share in the government proportioned rather to
their social importance than to the number of their depu-
ties. The majority, however, did not look upon it from
the same point of view and considered that Giolitti was
acting even less in accordance with " the sound principles
of constitutional law " than Luzzatti had done and com-
plained of being dispossessed by coup d'etat. A struggle
began between the majority and its leader. The majority
said : " I am the majority and I have, therefore, the right
to rule." Giolitti replied: "Yes, you are the majority,
but not by your own efforts. I created you and you are
bound to do my will." For the first time the reality of
this personal government came into conflict with the for-
mulae of Parliament in which it was concealed. The diffi-
culties consequent on this contradiction would not have been
so serious had Giolitti not proposed at the same time to
make life insurance a State monopoly and to introduce uni-
versal suffrage.

The monopoly of life insurance was not in itself a
reform of so radical a nature as necessarily to involve such
bitter struggles. The measure could have been carried

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 141

without any great difficulty had it been better prepared.
GioHtti had however, as we have seen, chosen as Minister
of Industry a Radical deputy, Professor Nitti, and Nitti
precipitated a political catastrophe by the carelessness and
imprudence with which he prepared the scheme. In a few
weeks he launched on the country a scheme which was not
only incoherent and inadequate from various points of
view, but in its first clause decreed in a few lines a sort of
total confiscation without awarding the insurance compa-
nies any compensation. According to this clause all life
insurance companies were to cease work at once and stated
that no compensation could be claimed for the loss entailed
by the new law either by the insurance companies, their
employes or the insured. Such a high handed abolition by
the State of the rights of its subjects, such a calm appro-
priation of private property for its own purposes was an
unheard of thing and only an extremely strong government
could possibly have carried such a measure and Giolitti's
government was far from being strong. The majority,
which disliked the composition of the Cabinet and dreaded
the introduction of manhood suffrage, promptly rose in
arms against the legal enormities of the bill, which was
attacked from every point of view. The protests of those
affected gained over parliamentary circles and ere long the
question of manhood suffrage was relegated to the back-
ground. For a time it was hoped that Giolitti would real-
ize his mistake, withdraw the bill and sacrifice its unlucky
author. This time, however, Giolitti persisted in his
scheme. He managed to get it approved by the parliamen-
tary commission which examined it and laid it before the
Chamber. The situation went from bad to worse. The
Chamber was resolved to reject the scheme, but did not
know how to set about it. The House had entered its third

U2 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

year of existence and Giolitti was supposed to have the
decree of dissolution in his pocket. The SociaHsts fo-
mented the general irritation by making it plain that they
intended to profit by the rupture between Giolitti and his
majority to seize the reins of power. The storm, which
had nearly broken four years before, began to lower in the
lobbies of the Chamber and the word " treason " was whis-
pered for the first time. Giolitti was betraying the mon-
archy and had gone off his head. Whilst these whispers
were heard in the lobbies, the discussion of the bill dragged
on for weeks in the Chamber. No one dared to attack it
boldly, and Giolitti showed no intention of yielding and
he was only convinced of the impossibility of passing it in
its present form by Salandra's forcible speech showing its
absurdities and mistakes. By this time June was drawing
to an end and GioHtti profited by this fact to ask for a
vote approving the general principle of the law, whilst post-
poning the discussion of its details — i.e., the essential part
— till November, after which the House adjourned for the
holidays.

This affair left the ministry very weak. The scheme it-
self, the carelessness with which it had been prepared and
the shifty behaviour of the Chamber had disgusted the
country. The hopes raised in April by the " great minis-
try " had given place to bitter disappointment. Political
circles were more and more absorbed by the scheme for
manhood suffrage and the attitude adopted by the Socialists
who were now posing as the next heirs to power. The dis-
satisfied state of public opinion was aggravated by the un-
certainty and contradictions of such a paradoxical situa-
tion. No one knew whether Giolitti would emerge from it
as the triumphant ruler or the hated victim. His enemies
were working hard. Just at this juncture the " Panther "

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 143

went to Agadir and the Franco-German pour parleys on the
Morocco question began. Ere long no one doubted that
Morocco was about to become a French protectorate.
Many newspapers then reminded the pubhc that once Mo-
rocco had become French, the only territory in North
Africa left for Italy would be Tripoli and pointed out that
if she failed to seize this opportunity, she would be encir-
cled and stifled in the Mediterranean.

Until that time the Italian people had but a very vague
notion of Tripoh. The efforts made by writers and politi-
cians after the Mediterranean agreements with France and
England to draw its attention to these regions had been
fruitless. The memory of Adowa still lay heavy upon the
nation, but this time to the astonishment even of those who
had opened the campaign with but little hope of rousing the
people from its indifference, public opinion suddenly showed
an interest in the matter — an interest which grew daily.
Yes, Italy would lose an opportunity which could never
recur if Giolitti's government showed its usual indifference
to the great questions of international and colonial policy.
In reality Tripoli was but a pretext. The country was
longing to escape from the state of discontent and despond-
ency I have described and it seized this occasion, regardless
of danger, in the hope of finding in Tripoli what it had
vainly sought in liberalism — the increase of wealth, a new,
happier and nobler life. When, however, the public as-
serted that if France took Morocco, Italy must take Tripoli,
it forgot that Tripoli was a province of the Ottoman Em-
pire, and that since Turkey was a European power, to seize
Tripoli would upset the balance of Europe, on which de-
pended the peace of the world. It was easy enough for the
nation to demand Tripoli; it was quite another matter for
the government to satisfy its wishes. Accordingly it hesi-

144. EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

tated. When, however, the press, the various political par-
ties and those who did not wish to see the Radicals in
power, or the introduction of the State life insurance mo-
nopoly and manhood suffrage saw both this hesitation and
the excited condition of public opinion, they did everything
in their power to excite public opinion still more as the
most efficacious way of discrediting the Ministry. They
succeeded so well that the Cabinet realized that its fall was
inevitable if it tried to resist the wishes of the people. If
Giolitti had not set up a Radical ministry; if he had not
tried to introduce either the life insurance monopoly or man-
hood suffrage, he would probably have been able to make the
country understand that it was impossible to attack another
Power without rhyme or reason merely because the nation
desired to do so. Under the circumstances, however, he
could not enforce this view, since, had he attempted it, all
his enemies and political opponents would immediately have
accused him of betraying the interests of the country; he
could not have hoped, with all his power, to withstand the
onslaughts of excited public opinion and the fate which over-
took him in the spring of 191 5 would have been his in the
spring of 191 1.

The government therefore decided upon war and declared
it as best it could. From the point of view of International
Law, the pretext for hostilities was somewhat feeble, and
those who had kept their heads were therefore not sur-
prised that Italy's step was not cordially received by the
other Powers. This attitude annoyed Italy and the extent
to which the country had been Germanized during the last
thirty years suddenly became manifest. The nation, or at
all events the most influential classes, seemed to take a
morbid pleasure in making a bad use of its power, in reply-
ing angrily to all foreign criticisms, even the most courte-

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 145

ous and reasonable, in abusing all Europe, in clamouring
for the extermination of the enemy, in exalting war and
conquest as the sacred rights of the higher races and in
forcibly suppressing all dissentient voices. Every arrange-
ment suggested which might have saved the prestige of the
Sultan whilst at the same time giving satisfaction to Italy
was regarded as humiliating, and the country demanded
unconditioned victory with such resolution that the govern-
ment was forced to issue the decree of annexation. There
was but little dissent from this universal greed for conquest ;
the Socialists were, to do them justice, the only political
party to oppose it. The storm which had threatened to ruin
Giolitti and his Cabinet blew over, the sky cleared and Gio-
litti actually became popular. Such is the irony of human
affairs! The man, who had been unpopular when he had
striven to make the country prosperous and contented and
to please every one as far as in him lay, became the object
of general admiration and had to make speeches from his
balcony to crowds beside themselves with enthusiasm when
his errors in home affairs had forced him to forge the first
link in the claim which was to end in the world war.

Whilst the nation was intoxicated with dreams of con-
quest, the government had made the same blunder as in
1896 and was entering upon a colonial campaign with the
forces intended merely for home defence — a blunder which
had the gravest consequences. At the beginning of the war
even the masses were full of enthusiasm; they had taken
the press too literally and were convinced that Tripoli was
a country of fabulous wealth which would afford land and
work to millions of emigrants. Their enthusiasm cooled
rapidly. The Italian generals were obliged to wage a war
of positions, for blood could not be shed recklessly in
order to achieve the conquest of what the troops rightly

146 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

or wrongly regarded as a sandy waste. The war dragged
slowly along and became a source of anxiety not only to
Italy but to the whole of Europe. The enthusiasm of the
first few months gave place to impatience, irritation and
even greater discontent than that prevailing before the war.
The government, which was still anxious to pass the Insur-
ance Monopoly and Manhood Suffrage Bills, had recourse
to all kinds of artifices — such as press campaigns, an at-
tack on the Dardanelles and the occupation of the Dodeca-
nese— in order to keep up the spirits of the people. It
succeeded in passing a modified form of the Life Insurance
Monopoly Bill which had more respect for vested rights
and in introducing Manhood Suffrage. A little later, dur-
ing the autumn of 191 2, it also succeeded in concluding
peace with Turkey. These successes, however, only weak-
ened the power of the government. The two years which
elapsed after the introduction of this electoral reform and
before the outbreak of the European War were amongst
the most anxious through which Italy has passed since i860.
The Peace of Lausanne was hailed with joy, as a way out
of an intolerable situation, but it satisfied no one. It was
a matter of universal knowledge that while Italy had not
been defeated in Tripoli, she had not achieved the complete
success hoped for. The disappointment was aggravated
by the fear of possible internal repercussions. The coming
elections, the first since manhood suffrage had become an
accomplished fact, were the absorbing thought of political
circles. This common anxiety instead of, as might have
been expected, showing the advisability of union between
the ruling classes, seemed to make them more suspicious of
one another, whilst the general public was weary and indif-
ferent. The two Balkan wars, the many evidences of the
increasing instability of the European balance of power,

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 147

the menacing growth of the German army and navy, and
the incessant Austrian intrigues, made but little impression
on either the government, political circles, the press or the
nation. Deputies and parties alike were busy trying to
gain government support during the coming elections and
were carrying on a fierce wordy warfare both in Parliament
and the press. The public took no interest whatsoever in
these intrigues and struggles, thus leaving the government
free to settle the most weighty matters as it thought fit.
The government, thus left to itself by public opinion, weak-
ened by the war, and itself anxious as to the results of the
coming elections, allowed itself to be influenced by passing
events, habit and every kind of intrigue. Austria and
Germany profited by this state of things to induce the gov-
ernment to renew the Triple Alliance before the term agreed
upon, to take their side against Serbia, to support their
policy in Albania and to do everything in its power to bring
about the second Balkan war, of which Italy is now feeling
the disastrous results. The Marquis of San Giuliano, at
this time Minister for Foreign Affairs, who was left to his
own devices, readily yielded to the various influences
brought to bear upon him, whilst Giolitti devoted his whole
attention to the general election, employing to their fullest
extent his favourite tactics of weakening all parties by
intermingling them. The confusion which prevailed during
the general elections of 19 13 will never be forgotten. In
one district the Minister supported the Socialist candidate
against the Clerical ; in another the Clerical against the So-
cialist; the very same Prefect who in one constituency sup-
ported the Radical candidate opposed him violently in the
neighbouring one. These contradictions were specially
marked in the large towns, where the government policy
varied according to the street and district. Influential

148 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

deputies belonging to Giolitti's personal party were of
course supported against every party. The most notable
instance of this confusion -.vas that of a Cabinet Minister,
a prominent Free Mason, who seemed about to be defeated
by a Clerical candidate, when the Vatican, at the request
of the government, ordered the Clerical to withdraw his
candidature in favour of the Socialist,

The result of the elections was disastrous. Out of five
million electors, one million voted for the Socialists, who
had eighty seats in the new Chamber as against forty in
the preceding one. They gained this large number of votes
— more especially in the country districts — because they
had had the courage to protest against the Tripoli cam-
paign, and would probably have gained still more, had they
conducted their anti-war campaign with more boldness and
intelligence. This result of the elections increased the
general depression. The Chamber became the scene of in-
vective disturbances and even blows ; Giolitti as usual seized
the first favourable opportunity of resigning and was suc-
ceeded by Salandra, who, next to Sonnino, was the most
influential member of the small party of the Right which
had always remained in Opposition. His selection was
not, however, due to any recognition of the principles of
constitutional law, but because it was absolutely essential
to place at the head of the government a man who, while
more malleable than Sonnino, was both capable and con-
scious of the seriousness of his position, and would en-
deavour, without breaking with Giolitti and his party, to
deal with the situation resulting from the war and the pol-
icy of the late government. Salandra, though he did not
attempt to form a Conservative Ministry, dissociated him-
self from the Radicals, and set to work. He was, however,
soon confronted with the most unforeseen difficulties. Be-

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 149

fore Giolitti resigned, he had proposed various new taxes
to cover the deficit caused by the war. The new Cabinet
brought forward these measures, which were clearly abso-
lutely necessary, but the Socialists opposed them by every
means in their power on the ground that the poor were to
be made to pay for a war desired by the rich. Whilst the
government was still trying to overcome this opposition,
a skirmish took place at Ancona between the police and a
crowd which had taken part in a political meeting. The
police fired upon the people and killed one person; the
Socialist party proclaimed a general strike which in many
towns caused outbreaks of violence; stations and churches
were burnt down, revolver shots exchanged freely; several
town in Romagna proclaimed themselves republics, while
everywhere the authorities, taken by surprise, dealt with
the outburst with a sort of fatalistic inertia. Order was
re-established, but, though the government succeeded in
putting down the riots, it failed to overcome the obstruc-
tionary tactics of Parliament and had to content itself with
a compromise: i.e., a royal decree authorizing it to impose
these taxes for one year. The upper classes were pervaded
with a sense of insecurity and indeed the whole country felt
as if it were on the edge of a volcano. It was under these
disquieting circumstances that the Chamber adjourned in
the summer of 1 914. In a few weeks a far greater storm
burst over the world — the European War.

VI

When confronted with this cataclysm, the country pulled
itself together. German aggression and the violation of
Belgium neutrality aroused in the masses that moral sense
which the Tripoli campaign had dulled, while at the same

150 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

time opening the eyes of the nation to the danger threaten-
ing Italy, and the Power which had begun a world war with
such criminal callousness, which had broken faith with such
insolence and had proclaimed to the world that it recog-
nized no law but that of might, became in a few days the
object of general execration. Justice, honour, loyalty,
right, all those ideals in fact which the era of quantity had
scorned, once more became matters of moment. The ha-
tred of Germanism, which had been latent amongst the
masses since the days of the Guelfs and Ghibellines, sud-
denly awoke and intense indignation was roused in all
classes.

The Treaty of the Triple Alliance was denounced on
May 4th, 191 5, but it had really been rejected by the nation
between the ist and 4th of August, 1914. Even if the
Italian government had been foolish enough to pledge itself
to take part in a war of pillage and aggression, it would
not have been able to keep its word, for the country would
have refused to support it. It was in vain that the German
ambassador offered the Italian government Tunis and two
milliards of francs and that the military attache tried to
convince Cadorna that it was a matter of a short and easy
campaign, that " in six weeks the whole thing would be
over." If the government had at that moment been in a
position to renounce the Treaty and declare war on the
Germanic empires, the country would have supported it
with enthusiasm, but such a course was not possible and
Italy had to resign herself to being a mere spectator of the
great struggle, though there could be no doubt as to which
way her sympathies lay. The masses quickly realized that
nothing could be a greater disaster than the annihilation of
France; old quarrels were forgotten and the three weeks
which elapsed between the battle of Charleroi and the bat-

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 151

tie of the Marne were weeks of the most intense anxiety.
During those three weeks, the circulation of the newspapers,
which had risen considerably since the outbreak of the war,
dropped rapidly, for the public would not read the bad news
they contained.

The Battle of the Marne and the Battle of Lemberg al-
layed their fears, the former especially being hailed with
great joy. Italy was glad to receive proof that, in spite of
all that had been said about the decadence of France, there
was still beyond the Alps an army strong enough to bar
the road to Paris. The public gradually realized that the
surprise sprung on Europe by the two empires had failed,
that the war was developing along unexpected lines and
would be of long duration. The part which Italy would
have to play soon came to the fore. The general feeling
of sympathy for the Allies and of disgust with the Central
Empires was so strong that the possibility of Italy's ranging
herself on the side of Germany and Austria was never even
considered. Italy had to choose between neutrality and
going to war against the two empires and on this point the
country split into two parties — the Neutralists and the
Interventionalists.

If we are to understand the ensuing struggle aright, we
must have a clear grasp of its causes. The party which
from the first was heart and soul for the war was recruited
from the educated classes — journalists, teachers at the sec-
ondary schools, men of letters, students, and the most cul-
tured section of the upper middle class and the nobility.
It also included a small number of university professors,
but the majority of these professors remained true to Ger-
many which they regarded as the fount of all learning.
The journalists were the most active advocates of the Inter-
ventionalist movement. The press, with the exception of a

152 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

few newspapers which were frankly organs of the Neutral-
ist party, was favourable to intervention, even the papers
which had hitherto supported the Triple Alliance and looked
favourably on the spread of German influence in the coun-
try taking up the same line. Many Interventionalists, more
especially those belonging to conservative circles, realized
that if Italy did not intervene, she would find herself in a
position of dangerous isolation after the war. National
aspirations, Irredentism, as they were commonly called, the
re-conquest of the Italian provinces still subject to the
Hapsburgs, were the main ground for intervention in the
eyes of many young rnen of the conservative classes and
also of the Republican and Socialist parties, which had been
Irredentist out of opposition to the Triple Alliance. The
parties of the Extreme Left realized, moreover, with anxi-
ety the inevitable political and social consequences of the
victory of the Germanic empires — the triumph of mili-
tarism, of the monarchical principle and of reactionary
ideas. The dread of German hegemony weighed more or
less heavily on all classes. The unbounded ambition of
Germany together with her desperate efforts to satisfy it
had taken the whole world by surprise, since Germany had
always been regarded as the nation most nearly approaching
the modern ideal of progress and there were very few who
had any suspicion that the gospel of progress could give
birth to ambitions and acts of violence such as those at
which Italy was now gazing in horror. This very aston-
ishment added to the universal dismay. Moreover, it must
not be forgotten that amongst the reasons which inclined
many people to intervention was the ancient hatred of
Austria and a half unconscious desire to engage in some
great enterprise which should enable the country to shake
off the spirit of despondency and unrest resulting from the

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 153

events of the last few years. The Interventionalist intel-
lectuals belonged to all parties. Moreover, in each party
there was a group of intellectuals which did its utmost to
win over the whole party — an effort which succeeded in
certain cases and failed in others. The Radicals, Repub-
licans and Reformist Socialists declared for intervention;
the Official Socialists and the Clericals for neutrality; the
Conservatives and the Liberals — that is to say, the classes
and groups upon which the government had leaned until
Giolitti's Radical ministry came into power — did not com-
mit themselves definitely one way or the other. If we are
to have a clear grasp of the attitude of the various parties,
we must not forget to take into account an important fact
which is the key to the events which led to Italy's inter-
vention — that the masses, i.e., the peasants, working men,
and lower middle classes, the classes affected by the intro-
duction of manhood suffrage — much as they detested Ger-
many and Austria never desired war. They wanted peace
for the simple reason that they considered it preferable to
war. " We will go to war when we are attacked," summed
up their view of the case. The considerations of world
policy, the equilibrium of Europe and the danger of German
hegemony were altogether beyond their comprehension, and
they were utterly indifferent to Irredentism. No one had
spoken to them of Trieste and Trent for thirty-two years,
for the government had enforced silence on this national
question in deference to the Triple Alliance.

The attitude of the lower classes explains why the Social-
ists and the Clericals declared for neutrality. In the case
of the Clericals there was another reason, this party having
always been Francophobe and Austrophile, for reasons
which are not hard to seek. The attitude of the masses
also affords an explanation of the contradictions and oscil-

154j EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

lations of the Liberals and Conservatives; in other words,
the ruHng classes. Thus, while the organs of these parties
and classes were for the most part favourable to interven-
tion, the Chamber and the Senate were impenitent neutral-
ists. The Chamber was afraid of the electors brought in
by manhood suffrage who had so plainly shown their dis-
satisfaction with the Tripoli campaign and was moreover
anxious as to the political consequences of intervention.
Would not a break with the Germanic Empires be tanta-
mount to confessing that the alliance of thirty-two years
had been a mistake? Would it not put a formidable
weapon into the hands of the Opposition? Whilst the Rad-
icals and Republicans were filled with anxiety as to the
political consequences of a German victory, the Conserva-
tives were equally anxious as to the results of a German
defeat. The exaggerated veneration for everything Ger-
man so prevalent during the last thirty years in certain
aristocratic and intellectual circles — more particularly in
the universities — seemed to have disappeared with the first
shock of the war, but raised its head afresh when the inter-
vention campaign began, as was evidenced by the appear-
ance in Rome during the autumn of i9i4ofa weekly jour-
nal published by a group of professors at the University
of Rome, whose object was the seconding of Prince Billow's
intrigues by means of a venomous and unscrupulous cam-
paign against the Triple Entente and especially against
France. Economic considerations also played their part,
for it must not be forgotten that during the last ten years
Italy's trade with Germany and Austria had become more
important than that with the Entente Powers. The Central
Empires afforded the chief market for Italy's agricultural
produce. German influence also predominated in both the
banking and the industrial world. If to these reasons we

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 155

add anxiety as to how the losses and expenses of the war
were to be met, the uncertainty as to its duration and issue,
we shall readily understand why government circles and
their supporters hesitated to take action.

Ere long the question of intervention became the subject
of lively discussions which were however confined to cer-
tain small circles. The masses remained quiescent. At
this juncture von Biilow arrived in Rome and set to work,
much in the same way as if he had been at Athens or Con-
stantinople. He bought everything which was for sale in
the press and in the political world; he rallied round him
all those German interests which might be expected to exer-
cise pressure on the country and he took advantage of his
numerous personal connections to plot and intrigue in po-
litical circles. He found many supporters among the Slav-
ish admirers of Germany and the professional members of
the Senate which became the centre of pro-German and
unpatriotic intrigues. What was the Government about in
the meantime? The government too had pulled itself to-
gether and, after proclaiming the neutrality of Italy, was
preparing armaments with a rapidity and energy hitherto
unknown. San Giuliano having died, Sonnino became
Minister for Foreign Affairs — a very significant appoint-
ment — for while Sonnino has his faults like any other
man, it is an undeniable fact that his devotion to duty had
ended by making him extremely unpopular in Parliamentary
circles. As for the line to be taken up by Italy, the govern-
ment had come to the conclusion that she could not remain
merely a spectator for an indefinite period ; further that the
government ought to take advantage of this excellent op-
portunity of settling the question of the Unredeemed Prov-
inces— a question at once national and strategical — that
this question should be settled diplomatically if possible,

156 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

but that if diplomacy failed, Italy should have recourse to
arms. Accordingly on December 9th, 1914, Sonnino
opened negotiations with Austria by requesting that the con-
ditions contained in Art 7 of the Treaty of Alliance would
be carried out. This article laid down that any act which
disturbed the power of balance in the Balkans, whether per-
formed by Italy or Austria, would entitle the other Power
to compensation. By declaring war on Serbia, Austria had
disturbed the balance of power in the Balkans, thus giving
Italy the right to compensation.

This step was both perfectly correct and extremely clever.
The Italian government could not be accused of wishing
to violate the treaty, since it was merely asking that one of
its provisions be carried into effect. If Austria consented
to settle the national and strategical question of the Unre-
deemed Provinces by way of compensation — a contingency
which the government regarded as very improbable — the
government would have a decisive argument wherewith to
convince the Interventionists of the futility of their war
propaganda ; if Austria refused, the Neutralists would be
forced to admit that war was unavoidable. I believe I am
correct in stating that this line of conduct was taken up
by the government with the full knowledge and approval
of Giolitti, who as the leader of the majority was bound
to afford all possible assistance to the government. It must
be admitted that he gave his support as ungrudgingly as the
circumstances demanded. It cannot, however, be said that
his followers did their duty equally well. They could not
forget that Salandra and Sonnino were the two most emi-
nent members of the small group of the Right which had
never ceased its opposition to Giolitti's government. They
had agreed to support Salandra for a few months while
Giolitti enjoyed a rest, but the European War threatened

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 157

to upset their whole game. The Salandra Cabinet seemed
settling into power and, if it managed to conduct a great
national war successfully, might it not rally to itself suffi-
cient forces to dispossess the Giolittians altogether? They
therefore began to make trouble in Parliamentary circles,
alleging on the one hand that the government was rushing
the nation into a war which could not fail to be disastrous,
and, on the other, that if war were really inevitable, the con-
duct of it ought to be in the hands of Giolitti and his party.
During the whole winter of 191 5 a spirit of unrest per-
vaded the upper classes and Parliamentary circles. Both
political parties and the press continued their pro or anti-
war propaganda. The Ministry continued its secret nego-
tiations with Austria. Von Biilow poured out gold like
water, invited senators to dinner and intrigued in the polit-
ical world. Giolitti's lieutenants worked the Parliamentary
circles where they felt themselves strongest, while the So-
cialists carried on their campaign against intervention with
increased energy and attacked the Ministry with ever grow-
ing violence. Is the story true that during March and
April very intimate relations had been set up between von
Biilow and certain of Giolitti's most prominent lieutenants?
I cannot say and I would fain hope that German influence
had nothing to do with the fierce and virulent campaign
carried on by the official organ of the Socialists in order
to prove that all the belligerents were equally to blame and
that France and Great Britain were just as much actuated
by capitalist motives and greed of conquest as Germany.
Whatever may have taken place during these months, it is
a fact that the public, which had remained perfectly calm,
was much less interested in these intrigues and discussions
than in trying to divine the real Intentions of the govern-
ment. Did it mean to remain neutral or to go to war?

158 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

We now know what it was doing and what its real inten-
tions were, but at this time it was only known that it was
negotiating both with Austria and the Triple Entente, whilst
Interventionalist circles were inclined to blame it severely
for what they considered disgraceful bargaining with Aus-
tria. The most widely different rumours were in the air,
and towards the end of Italy's period of neutrality — i.e.,
in March and April, 19 15, the general public began to show
signs of unrest. Uncertainty was enervating public opin-
ion, for a nation cannot live for months under the shadow of
impending war without becoming excited.

Suddenly, on April 21st there was an indication that the
crisis was not far off. On that day the Socialist organ
Avanti published an interview with a " former minister "
of the Giolitti Cabinet, in which the state of the negotiations
between Austria on the one hand and the Triple Entente
on the other was set forth and the conclusion drawn that
Italy ought to remain neutral and even strengthen her ties
to Germany in order to safeguard her Adriatic interests.
Whoever may have been the personage concerned and what-
ever the value of his conclusions, the revelations as to the
negotiations were absolutely correct. Those who were au
courant of the situation made no mistake as to the object
of the articles in question, which was an anti-war manoeuvre
arranged with the Socialist organ by persons whose accu-
rate information proved them to be highly placed. The
Neutralist party was preparing to make a general appeal
to the masses against the government and the Intervention-
alists. It was obvious therefore that the war party was
getting the upper hand in ministerial circles. A few days
later Paris telegrams announced in a somewhat vague form
that Italy had signed an agreement with the Powers of the
Triple Entente. The news was denied, confirmed and de-

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 159

nied again. It was next announced that the King intended
to be present at the unveiling of the monument to Gari-
baldi's Thousand at Quarto which was expected to be a
great Interventionalist demonstration. At the same time
contradictory rumours as to the issue of the negotiations
with Austria multiplied. The agreement had been con-
cluded — it had not been concluded — the King would de-
clare war at Quarto — Italy was about to resume her old
place in the Triple Alliance. Suddenly it was announced
that the King was not going to Quarto at all, but this an-
nouncement was accompanied by another to the effect that
his change of plans was due to the fact that the government
had come to decisions of such weight that the Head of the
State could not be absent from Rome. What had really
happened ? The public racked its brains in vain. On May
5th the Quarto monument was unveiled, but the ceremony
did not make the expected impression on the nation and
was even followed by a certain amount of disappointment.
The absence of the King and members of government had
been explained on the ground of impending serious deci-
sions and the nation accordingly expected some news of
importance on the 5th or 6th. None came. The public
was inclined to believe that the government had not taken
part in the ceremony at Quarto for fear of annoying Prince
von Bulow, as had been stated by certain newspapers.
Then suddenly the Giolittian section of the press published
a list of concessions made by Austria and announced that
Giolitti had been summoned to Rome by the King. On
May 7th Giolitti left Cavour for Turin and on the follow-
ing day he arrived in Rome.

What had happened? The mystery is now revealed in
part. Since December the Government had been negotiat-
ing with Austria without, however, coming to any arrange-

160 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

ment. The Green Book tells the story of these fruitless
negotiations. It took time to induce Austria to admit the
possibility of a discussion based on Article 7 and further
time to induce her to make any proposals. What she
offered was much less than Italy asked. Moreover, the
question as to when the agreement would be carried into
effect was a source of great difficulty. On April 26th the
government signed an agreement with the Triple Entente,
valid if Italy declared war within a month. The govern-
ment had decided to hurry events and declare war without
delay if Austria would not accede to Italy's demands.

On May 3d, Austria having refused to yield, the govern-
ment denounced the Triple Alliance. This meant war. I
think I am safe in saying that these two steps — the agree-
ment with the Triple Entente and the denunciation of the
Treaty — were taken without consulting Giolitti who was
still at his home in Piedmont. Parliamentary circles soon
divined that war was imminent. The anxiety of the ma-
jority, of official circles, and of the Giolitti party was great
and the Pro-German party in the Senate redoubled its
activities, as did also von Biilow. What took place at this
juncture? It is difficult to say for certain. Too many
points are still far from clear. But it would appear that
Germany and Austria, alarmed by the denunciation of the
Triple Alliance, which came as a painful surprise, had or-
ganized a plot to overthrow the Cabinet with the assistance
of various senators. Socialists and lieutenants of Giolitti's,
influential personages sufficiently blinded by political pas-
sion to lend themselves to the intrigues of foreign Powers.
The idea which gave rise to this conspiracy seems to have
been as follows: The Neutralists had a large majority
in the Chamber — numbering as they did 400 out of 508
deputies. The Chamber was to meet on May 20th. The

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 161

problem was how to bring about the fall of the Ministry
before that date, thus preventing it from declaring war,
and then confronting Parliament with the accomplished
fact ? How was it to be done ? In this dilemma the Neu-
tralists turned to the powerful politician who had prac-
tically created the Chamber and appeared to hold the fate
of the Cabinet in the hollow of his hand.

In my opinion Giolitti was not absolutely opposed to the
idea of declaring war on Austria. He, too, realized the
necessity of taking advantage of the European War in
order to settle the question of Italy's eastern frontier if he
did not wish to give the Opposition a formidable weapon
against the monarchy but, since he was convinced that the
war would be very long, he thought that Italy should only
intervene if absolutely necessary, when, that is to say, di-
plomacy had failed, and that her intervention should even
then be deferred until the last possible moment. I am also
of the opinion that he hoped that it would be possible to
go to war with Austria only and not with Germany, which
latter power he had always regarded as a necessary guaran-
tee of Italy's safety with France and Great Britain. This
scheme was ingenious enough ; the only doubt was its feasi-
bility. Such being Giolitti's views, it is easy to see why
the Neutralists regarded him as the one man who could
force the Salandra Cabinet to resign before the Chamber
met. Giolitti was to be called to Rome by the King; Aus-
tria was to make fresh concessions in addition to those
already rejected by the Cabinet; these new concessions were
not to be communicated to the government, which had
already denounced the treaty, but given to the public in the
columns of the papers implicated in the plot; a demonstra-
tion in favour of Giolitti was to be organized in the ranks
of the Parliamentary majority, after which Giolitti was

162 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

to declare that there must be no rupture with Austria and
that the discussion of the proposed concessions must con-
tinue. The Cabinet would find itself confronted by a pop-
ular peace movement on the one hand, — in which the
Socialists were expected to play a leading part — and a
Parliamentary demonstration on the other and would have
no choice but to resign. It is easy to see the weak point of
this intrigue as far as the Italians involved were concerned.
They were co-operating with foreign Powers, which were
on the point of becoming enemies, in order to bring about
the fall of the Ministry. It must, however, in justice be
added that men who were thoroughly an courant of the
situation and whose loyalty is beyond suspicion declare that
on May 8th, when Giolitti left Turin for Rome, he was not
aware that the latest Austrian concessions had not been
communicated to the Italian government and that he was
under the impression that he had to deal with official pro-
posals which had been properly presented. Giolitti himself
had therefore been deceived by German diplomacy, which
rewarded him for his fidelity to the Triple Alliance by tell-
ing him a lie which induced him to make a faux pas which
was destined to have the gravest possibile results. This
scheme, an excellent example of the unscrupulous boldness
of German diplomacy, seemed at first about to succeed. By
some means or other Giolitti's summons to Rome was ac-
complished; he arrived on May 9th and next day had an
audience with the King and a long conversation with Salan-
dra. He must therefore have known that the agreement
with the Triple Entente had been signed and had already
begun to come into effect, that the Triple Alliance had been
denounced, and that Austria's latest proposals were of a
wholly unofficial character and were simply a low stratagem
to deceive both Parliament and the nation. How was it

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 16S

that he failed to reaHze that it was not possible to undo
what had been done, that war was inevitable and that
everything must be done to avoid spreading distrust amongst
the masses who were still cherishing lingering hopes of
peace? Had he compromised himself too deeply with his
heutenants? Was he simply giving vent to his annoyance
with the Cabinet for taking such important steps without
consulting him? Did he fail to realize the gravity of his
proceedings? Had he gone too far to draw back? His-
tory may perhaps shed light on the mystery. The fact
remains that on the day following Giolitti's interview with
the King the iicwspapers announced that, according to him,
the negotiations with Austria were to continue. The effect
of this declaration at first seemed very marked. Three
hundred deputies and a large number of senators rushed to
leave their cards on Giolitti; there were excited scenes in
the lobbies of both Chamber and Senate and shouts of
"Down with the Pro-war Cabinet," while both the Crown
and the Ministry had to face a very awkward situation.
The Alliance with the Central Empires had been denounced
and the understanding with the Triple Entente was already
being carried into effect: how could Italy go back? Yet
how could she declare war in the face of vacillating public
opinion and directly against the wishes of Parliament?
There was some talk of bringing the question before Par-
liament, but the danger of such a course was obvious. The
Ministry was therefore forced to choose between a coup
d'etat and resignation. It decided to resign. Then certain
sections of public opinion veered round. The movement
began amongst the educated classes, but quickly gained
over part of the aristocracy, lower and upper middle classes.
This change was brought about by a variety of sentiments :
the disgrace of seeing Italy descend to the level of Greece;

164j EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

anxiety as to the probable result of such vacillation; the
longing to put an end to the uncertainty in which the coun-
try had lived for the last two months. But there were
two sentiments which did even more to produce the storm.
One of these was anger at Germany's interference in Italy's
home policy. Erzberger is said to have furnished the news-
papers which lent themselves to the conspiracy with the
famous list of the latest Austrian concessions ; if this be so,
the Triple Entente has every reason to be grateful to him.
The overbearing, encroaching spirit and perpetual intrigues
of German diplomats, bankers, and even of those officials
whom the Italian government had been weak enough to take
into its service had been tolerated too long, but this time
the unscrupulous insolence of German and Austrian diplo-
macy met with the chastisement it so richly deserved, and
the fury of the people was aroused when it saw Italy
treated like some decadent eastern state. There was a
violent outbreak of hatred for Giolitti who in those two
days had to face the accumulated detestation which his
rule had earned in the course of years. The opponents of
his Manhood Suffrage Bill and of the State monopoly of
life insurance, together with those who disliked his system
of personal government, his weak foreign policy, and his
contradictory home policy, seized the opportunity of aveng-
ing their wrongs. His third attempt — or what the public
regarded as his third attempt — to resume power when it
happened to suit him disgusted the people. Was the gov-
ernment of a country like Italy to be, so to speak, the per-
sonal property of Giolitti? Shouts of "traitor" and
" treason " were heard in the streets and echoed by the
press, while in the large cities, and especially in Rome and
Milan, there were constant demonstrations whose war-cry
was " Death to Giolitti." In Rome the best known mem-

ITALY'S FOREIGN POLICY 165

bers of the former Premier's party were abused and sub-
jected to violence in the streets and the Houses of Parlia-
ment were invaded by a furious crowd. Parliament, press
and political parties, who had for long been accustomed to
yield to any fairly decided expression of public opinion,
made no attempt at resistance. The newspapers either at-
tacked Giolitti or were silent; the senators and deputies
who were too deeply compromised disappeared ; others were
suddenly converted to intervention; in two days Giolitti's
personal rule, which had appeared invulnerable, collapsed,
while Giolitti himself, forsaken by his party, was forced to
shut himself up in his hotel lest he should be shot in the
streets by one of the numerous Interventionalists, who
would fain have punished the " traitor ! " When the dem-
onstrations had lasted three days the King, who for all his
reserve was favourable to the course matters had taken,
put an end to the struggle by announcing that the war party
had carried the day. He refused to accept the resignation
of the Cabinet; Parliament understood that King and Cabi-
net were of one mind and yielded to the force of circum-
stances. Fiction had for a moment endeavoured to become
reality, but the wrath of the nation had promptly banished
it to the realm of shadows. War was voted for almost
unanimously by a Senate and Chamber of which the ma-
jority would not even hear of such a thing ten days before.
It must not, however, be supposed that all Italy rose
during those stormy May days. With but a few exceptions
the masses took little part in the political demonstrations,
which however were furthered even by their abstinence
from .active participation, since the plan of the German
Embassy of bringing about the fall of the Cabinet might
have succeeded had the Socialists started counter-agitations
in the Neutralist interests. Had they done so, disturbances^

166 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

would undoubtedly have taken place and with civil war
menacing it, tlie government would not have ventured to
declare war on Austria. Why did the Socialists remain
quiescent instead of coming out boldly at the decisive mo-
ment? For the simple reason that, while they desired
peace, they hated Austria who had let loose the hounds of
war and, when the underhand manoeuvre was revealed to
which they were asked to give their support, were not in-
clined to engage in a sort of civil war on behalf of the King
of Prussia and the ravages of Belgium. They left the
Interventionalists masters of the situation and the war
party triumphed.

VII

And now Italy, like all the other European peoples, is in
the hands of God or of Destiny — whichever you choose
to call it. She has nobly redeemed the error of the Tripoli
campaign by interv'ening in this most appalling of wars
without being forced to do so by any direct attack, thus
randnsr herself on the side of the nations who have been
the victims of German aggression and are struggling to
save Europe from an intolerable hegemony. The impulse
which made her take this step was not, however, as has
been often said a mere outburst of national feeling. It was
something much more complicated — something far deeper.
The necessity of putting an end to an artificial, contradic-
tory and enervating system of government; shame at hav-
ing for so long submitted meekly to German influence ; hor-
ror and dread of this monstrous power resting on numbers,
steel, the authority of the monarchy, the prestige of the
army, the credulity and blind passions of the masses ex-
ploited by a strong and unscrupulous oligarchy ; the desire
for moral indepaidence which could only be hers with a

ITALY'S FOREIGN TOLICY 167

more secure frontier, together with a somewhat vague but
very real longing for a nobler, higher and happier life —
all these causes impelled Italy to take part in the struggle.
A coalition of various elements overcame the official oppo-
sition to this act of sacrifice and put an end to the vacilla-
tion of the masses. This coalition has been of the greatest
service to Europe, but it has entailed grave responsibilities.
Italy has pledged herself to her allies to induce the country
to make the greatest possible effort in the common cause
and they have pledged themselves to give the country, to-
gether with its natural frontiers, a sure and lasting peace,
moral independence and an existence free from the obses-
sion of German example and influence. The coalition
which willed the war might one day find itself in a perilous
position should it fail to fulfil these pledges. It will fulfil
the former, for, the masses, vacillating as they were up to
the very declaration of war, have accepted the heavy sacri-
fices asked of them with admirable courage and dignity.
It is for the Allied Powers to help it to redeem the pledges
it has given to the country, by taking into account the limits
placed upon Italy's participation in the war by the circum-
stances under which she entered it. It must never be for-
gotten that the problem of war is not presented in the same
way to the government of a country which has been forced
to take up arms by brutal aggression, as to the government
of a country which has desired war on political and national
grounds which are always open to discussion. If the Allies
bear this in mind, they will be better able to help the Italian
government and be in turn helped by it to attain the common
goal : the victory which will ensure to Europe a real, lasting
and equitable peace.

CHAPTER V
The Genius of the Latin Peoples

THE GENIUS OF THE LATIN PEOPLES

History is full of tragic surprises, but it is indubitable
that no generation, ... not even that which witnessed the
stupendous upheaval of the French Revolution . . . has
seen, as has ours, all its illusions and its hopes destroyed
in a few weeks by a catastrophe more unexpected.

It is not the war which has been the surprise. Even
while hoping that the precarious and uneasy peace which
Europe has enjoyed for more than forty years might be
prolonged indefinitely, every one knew that war was one of
the possibilities in the old continent. But no one expected
to see overthrown, in a few weeks, the very foundations
of the civilization which had sheltered us, with our posses-
sions, under its protective roof. And yet we have seen the
nations which were considered as the elite of humanity, who
had exerted themselves to sweeten conduct to the extent
of protecting horses in the street from the brutality of
drunken carters, fling themselves on one another for a war
of extermination. We have seen an age which had deified
productive labour annihilate, in a few years, the wealth
accumulated during generations. We have seen Europe
which seemed to us a living unit animated by rivalries, if
not courteous at least not mortal, divide itself all at once
into two camps separated by an insuperable abyss, which
can no longer exchange, across that abyss, but cannon shots
and curses. There is no longer any way of understanding
each other; for that which is the good on this side of the

barrier is the evil on the other side.

171

172 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

If our hearts are wrung at seeing this youth mown down
each day upon so many battle fields, the bloody sacrifice of
a generation is yet, unhappily, but a part of this prodigious
cataclysm, destined to change the course of history. It is
consequently natural that men seek to understand its pro-
found significance, and that they ask themselves what dan-
gerous madness has impelled one of the most powerful
nations of our epoch to risk its whole position, and unfor-
tunately also the well-being and happiness of the whole
of Europe, to possess itself, in a few weeks, of the empire
of the world. For there is now no longer any doubt that
flie European war, in its origins and in the dark plans of
the State which plotted it, was the audacious attempt to
possess itself, by a coup-de-main, of a hegemony which
would have delivered over to Germany at least the half
of the world. One has only to follow up on the map the
operations of the German army, from the violation of Bel-
gian neutrality until the battle of the Marne, to understand
that Germany attempted, in a few weeks, by a lightning-
like surprise, to annihilate France ; to destroy for centuries,
if not for all time, her riches, her power, her prestige. Nor
is it any more uncertain, now, that, had this plan succeeded,
neither England nor Russia alone would have been able to
save Europe from the German supremacy; Europe would
have fallen under the dominion, direct or indirect, of the
Empire of the Hohenzollerns ; and how much time would
have been required by a Germany, yet further extended,
overlord of all the European continent, intoxicated by this
new success, to prepare itself for a decisive struggle with
England? . . . that is to say, for the conquest of a world
supremacy? But it is also evident that a stroke of such
audacity, if it did not succeed within a few weeks, would

THE GENIUS OF THE LATIN PEOPLES 173

set going a struggle for life or death among the greatest
powers of Europe.

So that the real problem of the European war seems to
present itself thus: how was a nation, universally regarded
as a brother of the great European family, able to conceive,
at the dawn of the twentieth century, the idea of con-
quering, by surprise, a decisive supremacy over all the other
countries of the world, by destroying with fire and sword,
in a few months, one of the most ancient, most glorious and
most active centres of civilization; and how did it decide
to stake all that is possessed, . . . that is to say, a very
brilliant position, ... in this venture?

II

For the last years the world has been in perplexity over
this problem. The problem seems so much the more diffi-
cult in that, for thirty years past, we were accustomed to
attribute to Germany the genius of order. Germany, —
that was order. It is for this reason that, in almost all
countries, the upper classes felt for her a growing admira-
tion. And behold, all at once, from one day to the next,
without apparent reason, this pretended land of order throws
the whole of Europe into the bloody chaos of this tremen-
dous crisis, and reveals itself as the most astounding force
of disorder that history has yet seen. The world has diffi-
culty in comprehending a phenomenon so paradoxical. It
will, however, appear simpler if one reflects a little upon
order, upon what it is and upon the conception which we
form for ourselves of it. It is evident that order is a very
vague word and that it can signify many different things,
according as it is employed by a gendarme or by a philoso-

174i EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

pher, by the Home secretary or by the head of a Christian
church. But, in recent times, this elementary truth had
been a little too much forgotten, and, thanks to that intel-
lectual levity which held sway to some degree everywhere
in Europe previous to the war, we had ended by believing
that, where the government was disputed and unstable, dis-
order must reign; and that one found oneself in the realm
of order where the authority of the State was better obeyed.
But this concept of order and disorder was too simple.
Order is too complicated a phenomenon for us to be able
to confide the task of defining it exclusively to the police,
as this concept would assume. Order is also, . . and
for my part I shall not hesitate to say is above all . . .
the sense of the limits which a society ought not to over-
pass if it does not wish to see reason transform itself into
folly, truth transform itself into error, beauty transform
itself into ugliness, good transform itself into evil. It is
a law of the human mind, in every domain of practical and
of spiritual life, that all effect, if it overpasses a certain
limit, destroys itself, and, instead of attaining its end,
engenders the most varied troubles and crises, becoming a
disturbing element. There is nothing more noble in the
world than the love of truth, of justice and of beauty. And
yet all science which, having lost the sense of the limits
of its powers, seeks to resolve insoluble problems, departs
from the luminous sphere of reason and loses itself in the
fog of chimeras, producing intellectual disorder. The
states and religions which have demanded of their age too
great a moral perfection, by means of methods of coercion
too violent, have sometimes ended by sowing moral dis-
order through provoking the most unexpected reactions of
vice and crime. The divine force of art is originality, that
privilege of genius which creates beauties yet unknown;

THE GENIUS OF THE LATIN PEOPLES 175

but originality has also its limits, for it risks, in overpassing
them, falling into extravagance, into confusion, into the
absurd. This law is even more obvious in the practical
realm. It is a well known fact that nothing is so dangerous
for any political or economic organization . . . whether a
state, a party, an army, a bank, or a business ... as to
engage in enterprises which are beyond its powers. The
extreme limit of its powers is also the limit beyond which,
for all human institutions, disintegration begins; that is to
say, the incurable disorder which precedes death, slow or
swift.

This concept of order accepted, we can affirm without
hesitation that the spirit of order is represented, in history,
not by the Germanic genius, but by the Latin genius. From
a certain point of view one can say that the Latin genius
is essentially order in its highest possible concept, and that
such little order as has reigned in the world has been its
work. The political troubles which have agitated the Latin
countries at different periods, and especially for the last
hundred and thirty years, have not changed this profound
characteristic of our spirit. It is always difficult to define
the genius of a people, of a race or of a civilization. This
genius is always a very complex force, which eludes precise
definitions. It is never, moreover, constant and uniform in
itself. All nations and all civilizations contradict them-
selves in their history, by recurring, in certain periods, to
the tendencies which dominated preceding epochs. But if
one understands by the genius of a people or of a civiliza-
tion its most persistent tendencies, to which the people or
the civilization returns after inevitable fluctuations, one can
say that the Latin genius, like the Greek genius to which it
owes so much and which has been its master, is a genius
par excellence limited, and in consequence orderly : and that

176 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

it is a limited and ordered genius because, in its most bril-
liant periods, it, like the Greek genius, set before itself, as
an end to be attained, models of perfection, aesthetic, moral
or intellectual, as defined as possible. Let us take Greece :
why has she attained, in many arts and in certain forms of
literature, so great a perfection, which has consecrated so
many of her works as models that are always studied with
profit? Because she succeeded in limiting the creative en-
ergy of genius by traditions and by rules, and the force of
the traditions and rules by the creative energy of genius.
In all the arts, she has produced, in the most brilliant
moments of her activity, great geniuses, who have been able
to work within the limits of tradition and of rules strong
enough to support them, but not so strong as to stifle them.
In philosophy, Greece has produced all kinds of theories.
All the conceptions, and even all the aberrations, to which
the human mind reverts periodically, are there represented.
But it is not by mere chance that one of the two great
Greek philosophers whose work has come down to us almost
entire, and who has exerted so great an influence upon the
ancient world and upon the whole development of the Latin
civilization, whether directly or through St. Thomas Aqui-
nas, is Aristotle. Aristotle might be defined as the philoso-
pher of limitation and of order par excellence. He began
by limiting the universe, by reducing the world to a narrow
enclosed system, contesting the astronomic theories which,
in making the earth turn round the sun, would have exacted
as corollary the infinity of space. He limited the develop-
ment of the universe, by giving too all things a point of
arrival which does not recede in proportion as they ap-
proach it ; which is fixed and determinate ; its entelechie, the
complete realization of its faculties or of its tendencies. He
has founded morality on the idea that virtue is a mean be-

THE GENIUS OF THE LATIN PEOPLES 177

tween two extremes; and he has, consequently, admitted
that no element of human nature is radically evil when it
keeps to its own place; it only becomes so when it over-
passes the limits assigned to it by nature. He has created
a system of aesthetics which is, in the main, but a very
subtle and ingenius philosophical justification of a certain
number of rules which the taste of his epoch imposed upon
the poets, writers, and orators ; that is to say, the philosoph-
ical justification of the limits imposed by the Greek taste
upon the originality of genius. He has, in short, created a
system of politics which bases itself, ultimately, on the
limitation of the population. Aristotle would find himself
very much out of his reckoning in his political theories in
the modern world, and above all in the countries where, as
in Germany, the population swarms; for the State such
as he conceives it requires, for its good government, a lim-
ited and but little varying population. But what is the aim
which this State, whose population is limited, ought to set
before it? It is not the unlimited increase of power and
wealth; it is virtue; that is to say, an ideal of moral per-
fection. Virtue is the first care of a State which truly
merits this title and which is not a State only in name.

If ancient Greece possessed to so high a degree the sense
of limits in the spiritual domain, Rome possessed it in the
political domain. The phenomenon which is seemingly the
strength in the history of Rome is the persistent spirit of
opposition to territorial aggrandizements which dominated
its policy after the conquest of Italy. So long as it was
a question of conquering central and southern Italy, Rome
proceeded, when she was able, with a sufficiently decided
spirit of aggression; but so soon as it was a matter of
overpassing the Apennines, the Alps and the sea, of found-
ing the great Mediterranean empire which has had so great

178 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

an influence on the history of Europe, she felt herself as it
were paralysed by the very greatness of the opportunity
which presented itself to her. Even during the centuries
of the great conquests in Europe, in Asia and in Africa,
the aristocracy which governed the empire was always
opposed to the policy of annexations and of conquest. It
is no exaggeration to say that Rome created her immense
empire in spite of herself, forced by a sequence of events
which was stronger than the will of her government, or by
exceptional personalities such as C. Flaminius and Julius
Caesar, who were not, moreover, much admired. The ad-
miration of Julius Caesar is modem; the intellectual elite
of his generation and of the succeeding generations felt
towards him, rather, fear and distrust. This phenomenon
seems bizarre and almost incomprehensible to an age like
ours, where aggressive imperialism has enjoyed such high
favour in all countries; but for him who looks from the
Roman point of view the reason for this is clear. The
Roman nobility knew that it was easier to conquer terri-
tories than to keep them; it saw on all sides the ruins of
empires which had fallen because they had wished to expand
too much and too fast; it did not wish to risk too much
for the conquest of an empire which it would not have
the strength to keep. The Roman nobility, moreover, . . .
and it is another characteristic which distinguishes it from
the ruling classes of our age, . . . was never ambitious to
make of Rome a state richer or more powerful than other
states; it only wished, after having conquered Italy, that
Rome might enjoy a certain security and that she might
be governed according to certain principles which seemed
to it, rightly or wrongly, to represent a perfect ideal of
virtue and wisdom. In short, it put into practice, to the
best of its ability, the principle of Aristotle, that virtue is

THE GENIUS OF THE LATIN PEOPLES 179

the chief preoccupation of a state which merits that title.
For centuries Rome found herself in contact with states
which were richer, or more powerful, or more cultivated
than herself; never was she envious of them, never did she
feel herself humiliated by the comparison, nor obliged to
seek to imitate them. She limited herself always to taking
from the other peoples what seemed to her useful for her
own conservation; but she sought, above all, not to com-
promise that ideal of wisdom and virtue in which she saw
the goal of all her effort. To remain faithful to that ideal,
she preferred, during several centuries, to renounce con-
quests and enrichments which would have been easy to her ;
which explains, for instance, why Paul Emilius, after hav-
ing conquered Macedonia, closed all the gold mines and
forbade their exploitation; which explains also why, at a
certain moment, the Senate refused to accept Egypt, which
the King had bequeathed it in his testament. Yet Egypt
was considered the richest and most fertile country of the
ancient world. But Rome refused it just because it was
too rich. The traditionalist and puritan aristocracy feared
lest these riches and the Egyptian examples might end by
" corrupting " Rome ; that is to say, by divorcing the new
generations from that ideal of moral perfection in which
it believed, and which seemed to it essential for the main-
tenance of the people in a state of moral vigour. The ideal
of moral perfection prevailed over the ambition for power
and the desire for wealth. This prudence also explains
to us why, when she conquered a country, Rome asked
nothing better than to let it live as it would, with its laws
and its beliefs, mixing herself with its affairs as little as
possible. Rome never dreamed of imposing her language,
her manners, or her laws upon her subjects ; all the peoples
who, under her rule, became Romanized freely and slowly,

180 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

because they believed it advantageous to adopt the language
and ideas of the dominant nation. Rome knew that she
would not be able to impose her will upon all the subject
peoples, and she preferred to leave them to govern them-
selves. This prudence and these hesitations explain the
slowness with which the Roman Empire was created, but
it also explains its duration.

Ill

These examples show us the Latin genius, and the Greek
genius, which has been the master of the Latin genius, in
their characteristic manifestations, seeking, in art as in
politics, in literature as in philosophy, order, measure, har-
mony. Both the one and the other have supplied the models
studied and imitated until two centuries ago, more or less
well, by all the civilizations which have followed one another
in Europe. One may say that the Latin spirit dominated
Europe, although with some more or less grave lapses,
until the end of the seventeenth century. Up to that period
all the social organizations of Europe, diverse as they were
in details, had yet a character which could be defined as
Greco-Latin. They were all based upon the great pessimist
doctrine which has been formulated under force so different
by the religions and philosophies of the past, and according
to which human nature is more prone to evil than to good.
They deduced from this principle that it was necessary to
distrust men, to multiply restraints and limits around their
perverse instincts, to master their pride and cupidity. They
sought to succeed in this partly by all kinds of moral and
political coercion, partly by enjoining on the generations
elevated ideals of perfection. All these civilizations were
poor, were lacking in energy, and ignorant in comparison

THE GENIUS OF THE LATIN PEOPLES 181

with contemporary civilizations; they limited their desires,
their ambitions, their spirit of initiative, their audacity, their
originality; they produced little and slowly, and even while
suffering much from the insufficiency of their material re-
sources, they considered the augmentation of wealth only
as a painful necessity. But they sought to attain to arduous
standards of perfection . . . artistic, or hterary, or moral,
or religious. To make use once more of a formula which
I have perhaps a little abused in these latter days, quality
prevailed over quantity; all the limitations to which these
civilizations submitted with so much patience were only the
necessary price of these coveted perfections; in good as in
evil, effort was made rather in the direction of depth than
in that of extent. Rather than to generalize vices and
virtues by extenuating them, these civilizations tended to
create a small number of great villains, of great characters,
of great scholars and of great artists.

A conclusion thus forces itself upon us : it is that, if the
Latin spirit had dominated the modern world as it dom-
inated the ancient world, a catastrophe like this would not
have been possible. Europe would have yet seen wars ; but
she would not have seen armies so formidable, nor engines
of war so murderous, nor proceedings so barbarous, nor so
savage a fury of passions, nor a people dreaming of con-
quering the empire of the world in a few weeks, nor the
frightful disorder which that insane ambition would let
loose. Rome had shown, by a conclusive historical experi-
ence, that the empire of the world cannot be, even where it
is possible, but the slow and patient work of centuries. But
then another question arises : for what reason has the Latin
spirit no longer today the influence over the world which
it had formerly? What new force has replaced it? Why,
to these limited and ordered civilizations has there succeeded

182 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

a social state which can give birth to such cataclysm ? What
has happened in the world? An immense revolution . . ,
the greatest perhaps that men have ever seen . . . and which
has overthrown in two centuries the world wherein our
ancestors lived. I believe that it is not possible to under-
stand the import of modem life if one has not understood
the magnitude of that revolution; and one cannot under-
stand it if one has not an exact idea of the civilizations
which have preceded our own. Classic culture, if it should
succeed in freeing itself from the German influence which,
at least in Italy, has dominated it owing to the baneful in-
fluence of the universities, ought to serve, above all today,
to make modern civilization in its essential difference under-
stood by an exact knowledge of ancient civilizations. In
what does this difference consist ? An enthusiastic optimist
has succeeded, during the eighteenth and nineteenth cen-
turies, and with the aid of favourable circumstances, in con-
vincing a part of humanity that human nature is inherently
good in itself; that, delivered from all the restraints with
which laws and religions had surrounded it, abandoned to
its instincts, it would continually better itself, and would
create happiness around it, by a kind of interior law. All
the means of coercion, of which former ages made use so
largely to subdue the evil tendencies of human nature, have
been mitigated or destroyed ; man has conquered liberty ; he
has permitted his will and his intelligence to develop to the
extreme limit of his energy and power of action; he has
created science, conquered the earth and the air, subjugated
nature. . . . But he has been forced to abandon or lower
almost all the ideals of artistic, moral or religious perfec-
tion venerated by our ancestors ; forced everywhere to sac-
rifice quality to quantity. . . . History has thus changed
its course ; a new world has come into being, in which cer-

THE GENIUS OF THE LATIN PEOPLES 183

tain principles of life seem to have been reversed. Was
this new world better or worse than the old ? For the last
century we do nothing but discuss this problem, tmder a
thousand different forms, and, for the most part, without
being aware of it, in our quarrels, political, religious, philo-
sophical. This problem underlies all these quarrels. But
the question, thus stated, is insoluble. For the two con-
ceptions of life, being partial, have their true side and their
false side, their weaknesses and their strong points. The
ancient has given to the world incomparable master-pieces,
great philosophers, great religions. It has also given hor-
rible tyrannies and fetters very heavy to bear. It has
divided men into a great number of small isolated and
antagonistic groups; but it has given birth, in the midst
of all these enmities, to the most sublime among the doc-
trines of love and charity that man has ever known. The
modern conception has bestowed on man much liberty, do-
minion over all the earth, a fabulous v^ealth and power.
But it has too much mixed up, and confounded, in a kind
of fog, the distinctions between truth and error, between
beauty and ugliness, between good and evil. And it is in
this confusion that three generations have sown with con-
fidence the noblest ideas of fraternity and love, to gather the
bloody harvest of this gigantic war!

IV

The present catastrophe is, in reality, only the final out-
come of a gigantic but confused effort accomplished by
four or five generations who have thought only of aug-
menting the power of man, without distinguishing between
the power which creates and that which destroys ; who have
considered it equally progressive to construct steamboats as

184. EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

to build dreadnoughts, to construct railroads as to construct
monstrous cannons or to invent terrifying explosives; who,
although not repudiating the moral traditions of the past,
have left full liberty to all the passions which could stimulate
human activity, even to those which seemed the most dan-
gerous to the predominating morality of past ages, such as
pride and cupidity. Our age has demanded of men three
things : activity, patriotism, and the docility to economic and
political discipline which great industrial civilization re-
quires. Outside of these three virtues it has not imposed
with vigour any moral law, either upon private or upon col-
lective life. Beneath its apparent unity the world had ended
by concealing a restless chaos of opposing interests, of pas-
sions and of ideas, in which the Latin genius, which is a
genius of order, of reason and of perspicuity, has ever felt
itself a little misplaced; whereas the German genius, re-
maining turbulent and uneven, delighted in it as in its ele-
ment, and grew, in it, over-excited to the pitch of preparing,
in silence, for the unsuspecting world the formidable sur-
prise of this war. All the tragedy of our age lies in this
contradiction; and no country has felt it, has suffered by
it, as has France, which had remained the most loyal to the
Latin tradition in the midst of the tremendous shocks of
the last two centuries. The political convulsions which
have shaken her during these last hundred and thirty years
have caused many people to think that France was the great
centre of disorder in Europe. It is to be presumed that
the European War will have proved to the most obstinate
that the centre of disorder was elsewhere. Even at the
very height of its gravest political crises France did not
cease to be, to such a degree as this was yet possible, an
element of order in Europe, because she has been, among
the great nations of Europe, the one which has preserved

THE GENIUS OF THE LATIN PEOPLES 185

to the highest degree the two quahties which are the con-
dition of true order: the sense of Hmits, and the aspiration
towards a quahtative civiHzation. One might even go
further, and say that the agitations and revolutions from
which France has suffered during more than a century, and
which have caused her to be considered as the greatest focus
of disorder, proceeded, at least in part, from the discrep-
ancy existing between the tendencies of the epoch and her
spirit of order. " France," . . . and I here ask your per-
mission to quote a page written by myself; not that it pos-
sesses any special value, but because it was written previous
to the war. ..." France, in effecting the Revolution, gave
the coup de grace to the limited civilization of our fathers.
It was not of set purpose, but in thinking of and aiming
at something else, that she dealt the blow; and this is so
true that she has since continued, and, perhaps alone in
the world, she yet aspires, to produce excellence, to be of
worth, and to assert herself through quality rather than
through quantity. But excellence cannot multiply itself so
quickly, so easily, and in so large a degree as the mediocre
and the bad. And so it is that the nation which did not
tremble before Europe in arms, which dared to defy God
and instal Reason on His throne, hesitates, takes alarm, is
terrified at the ever-growing figures read in the statistics of
its neighbours ; and it no longer knows whether it is in de-
cline or if it marches as the head of the nations ; and some-
times it is proud of itself, sometimes is discouraged; has
the sense of being isolated ; asks itself : * what is to be done?
Resist to the death the universal triumph of quantity? Or
utterly abandon the ancient tradition and Americanize one-
self like the rest?' Often when I come to Paris I go, at
sunset, up the Avenue des Champs Elysees towards the Arc
de Triomphe. ... Do you know what, for some time past.

186 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

I cannot help thinking when I walk along that avenue? I
think of the statistics of the production of iron in Ger-
many. A million and a half tons in 1870; two millions in
1875; three in 1880; nearly five in 1890; eight and a half
in 1900 ; eleven in 1905 ; nearly fifteen in 1910 ! My friends,
believe me ; it was on the day when Apollo made his speech
in Olympus that there began between him and Vulcan the
war which is let loose today in the whole world. Who will
prevail? Iron is incontestably a precious metal; railways
and machines have been made of it; cannons, guns, breast-
plates have been made of it. But to encumber the world
with iron to the point of driving out beauty from this
earth, and all the qualities which reveal the mobility and
greatness of the human spirit, is not this to lead the world
back to barbarism ? Who will prevail ? Vulcan or Apollo ?
Quantity or quality ? "

The struggle between the two gods of Olympus, which I
had dreaded during my journeys in America, has assumed
all of a sudden a form most violent and terrible. One day,
suddenly, in this chaos of conflicting interests, passions
and opinions in which we live, pride, ambition, and the
spirit of violence prevailed. The nation which had made
a superficial age believe that It represented the spirit of
order in the world has, seized with a fit of madness which
was the logical outcome of its pride and cupidity, thrown
Europe and half the world into the disorder of an unprec-
edented historic crisis. Since that day we dwell upon an
earth which quakes; and as if, from one moment to the
next, the sky would fall upon our heads. The sky will
not fall upon our heads ; but it would be difficult to foresee
the future which awaits our civilization if it does not suc-
ceed in regaining once more, in the quest for new aesthetic
and moral perfections, a surer sense of limits. Is the prob-

THE GENIUS OF THE LATIN PEOPLES 18?

lem which the war presents to Europe anything, indeed, but
a problem of limits? It presents it to all under a material
and geographical form. There are some nations which
have emerged from their frontiers and invaded the terri-
tories of their neighbours ; there are others who struggle to
drive back the invaders and to conquer frontiers which shall
protect them for the future from fresh outrages. But if it
be necessary, before all, to drive back the horde, so soon as
possible, into the territory from which it ought never to
have issued forth, to drive it back is not sufficient. It is
necessary to create in Europe a political situation and a
moral state which shall prevent the turbulent genius of the
Grermanic peoples from again filling the pages of history
with a second venture of this kind. Together with the
question of geographic and political limits, there is a ques-
tion of moral limits; the greatest, perhaps, that has ever
been presented to man : the question as to the limits which
states, nations, economic interests, intellectual cultures, shall
know how to set to their ambition, their activity, their spirit
of competition and of conquest. For the whole question
lies in that. The European War shows that modern civili-
zation is yet more powerful than even its most ardent admir-
ers had thought it. No one, I believe, would have dared two
years ago to prophesy that the greatest states of Europe
would be able to endure for years a war of this magnitude.
It is unquestionable that men had never achieved a more
stupendous effort. But just because one part of humanity
has arrived at a degree of power which had never been
attained, the question today is to know to what use it
intends to put that force. Does it intend to yield it as a
blind instrument of destruction to pride, to cupidity, to
ambition, so that they may periodically precipitate crises
such as that which today agitates the world? Or will it

188 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

desire to make use of it solely in definite directions and
for aims which shall be in accord with a high and noble
ideal of life? Will it succeed, in short, in imposing on its
tremendous force some moral limits, . . . and what?

There is no doubt that the future of Europe depends upon
this alternative. It is difficult to believe that the masses
would adapt themselves indefinitely to regard, as the final
expression of progress, a state of things by which, period-
ically, two generations should work tenaciously so as to
afford to the third the means of exterminating itself. The
world in which we live, huge and powerful, but unbalanced
and full of confusion, requires a little more order, harmony,
justice, beauty and measure. The crisis in which Europe
is struggling proves clearly that, if we do not succeed in
raising the moral tone of European life, the civilization of
sword and science will end in a kind of gigantic suicide.
The task which awaits Europe, on the morrow of the war,
is, then, very difficult; for it is a matter of nothing less
than attempting to profound, serious, organic reconciliation
between what is most noble and most beautiful from the
moral, religious and intellectual point of view in the quali-
tative civilizations of the past, and the new forces created
by our age, such as industrialism and democracy. We have,
hitherto, set side by side and jumbled up all these contra-
dictory elements ; it is necessary to blend them. Now these
adjustments, when they are not superficial hoaxes, but seri-
ous attempts to lead men to accomplish their duties better,
are always very difficult, demanding a great spirit of sacri-
fice, a great moral energy, the ardent faith in an ideal.
Our age, moreover, has achieved things too great, and
obtained too much success in over-passing all the limits
respected by our ancestors, not to feel a strong attraction
towards the limitless greatness of quantity, towards all that

THE GENIUS OF THE LATIN PEOPLES 189

is colossal, unbalanced, enormous, violent. The task then
will be difficult. . . . But if human nature has not changed;
if beauty, reason, virtue, have not lost their eternal forces
of attraction for the soul, the task should be possible and
glorious. It is not conceivable that Europe will emerge
from this crisis without understanding that there are, in
contemporary civilization, some excesses which we must
correct under pain of seeing all our efforts periodically
annihilated by catastrophes. It is the struggle between the
two Gods of Olympus; between the God who forges the
iron and the God who knows the laws of the necessary pro-
portions between the elements of life; that is to say, the
secret of health, of beauty, of truth, of virtue; it is this
struggle which has provoked the immense moral crisis from
which the war has ensued. We, the Latin nations, have
suffered more than the other nations from this moral crisis
. . . for we were especially devotees of the God who is
the august guardian of measure. The solution of this
great moral crisis would be compensation to us for the
sacrifices which this crisis in history imposes on us; and
no country would have so well deserved it as France, which
has made the greatest sacrifices. Like all the foreigners
whose hearts are wrung by the thought of all that France
has suffered and will suffer in this war, I ardently hope that
it will usher in in Europe an epoch in which the Latin
genius will be able to shine with its full radiance, in a world
which will understand what is order, harmony, reason, hu-
manity, better than the last generation had understood.
France is entitled to this recompense for the terrible sacri-
fices that she endures with so much steadfastness; and
history will bestow it upon her, to her glory and for the
happiness of the world.

CHAPTER VI
The Intellectual Problems of the New World

THE INTELLECTUAL PROBLEMS OF THE

NEW. WORLD

There is perhaps nothing which will surprise the historians
of the European War more than the general reconciliation
of parties and opinions by which its outbreak was followed.
Strange as such a statement may appear, there can be no
doubt that Europe enjoyed internal peace for the first time
during the greatest war history has ever known. The most
bitter religious, political and intellectual feuds were for-
gotten in the space of a few short days from end to end
of a continent which for three centuries had never ceased
to afford the world a spectacle of ever recurring conflicts.
This extraordinary phenomenon has been one of the
greatest surprises of the war. At the same time it is one
which readily admits of explanation. Every country
realized immediately that union of strength was absolutely
necessary, since not merely its prestige or the possession
of some special territory, but its very life was at stake.
Undoubtedly this explanation is true as far as it goes, but
it does not go far enough. The phenomenon is in reality
more complex and attributable to causes which lie deeper.
Reconciliation is almost always a very difficult matter when
it has to deal with animosities fostered and intensified by
long centuries of conflict; on this occasion, however,
it was comparatively easy, because the European War in-
volved in serious difficulties all the parties and schools of
thought which had striven so fiercely for the mastery in time
of peace. Much as each party or the adherents of each

193

194 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

school of thought would have enjoyed casting their op-
ponents' mistakes in their teeth, they preferred to forgive,
seeing that the arguments of each and every party might be
turned against it.

A few examples will make this clear. What Pacifist
would today venture to assert that universal peace is the
necessary result of the evolution of modern society?
Such Utopian theories have been carried away in a deluge
of blood. On the other hand, what opponent of pacifism
would dare to avow that when he maintained the necessity
of war, he had in his mind a war which knows no limits
whether of space, time, destruction of life and property,
or the unscrupulousness of its methods? If events have
proved the Pacifists to be in the wrong, they have so far
transcended the predictions of their opponents as to pre-
clude any possibility of triumph for the advocates of war.
It is of course clear that those who, at a time when Ger-
many was arming herself to the teeth, demanded the re-
duction of armaments, were mistaken; they were, how-
ever, right when they asserted that modern armies were
being developed beyond the limits set by nature to this
organ of the social body. It is, moreover, evident that
one reason why we have returned to the war of position
is the enormous size of modern armies and the complicated
nature and destructive power of their weapons. The war
of manoeuvre demands armies which are relatively small
in comparison to their field of action, can be readily moved
about and the range of whose weapons does not exceed a
certain limit. But how can a war of position, which lasts
for years, in an age when armies are composed of all able
bodied men between eighteen and fifty years of age, fail
to lead to a universal cataclysm? The actual outbreak
of the European War proved the Pacifists in the wrong,

PROBLEMS OF THE NEW WORLD 195

but its course has shown them to be right in declaring
that Europe's vast armed hosts would not ensure her peace
and would make the next war an appalling social catas-
trophe. It must indeed be admitted that their pessimistic
predictions fell short of the truth, for no Pacifist ever so
much as dreamed of so long and terrible a conflict.

If we turn our attention to the relation between the
European War and the political doctrines which divided
Europe before the war, we shall find the same contradic-
tion. Germany had many admirers all over the world,
more especially in the upper classes, simply because she
represented, or seemed to represent, the principle of author-
ity and order. Her government was indeed, as we know
to our cost, the strongest in Europe, the only one perhaps
which did not as yet stand in awe of those whom it was
supposed to rule. It was able to take the initiative in this
war and to inflict this appalling scourge upon the world just
because it was so strong and could exercise such unlimited
authority over its people. This fact will in the eyes of
several generations lessen the prestige still enjoyed by
strong, autocratic governments. The existence of the prin-
ciple of order cannot be admitted in a system which brought
this overwhelming disaster upon the world, and, whatever
may have been the mistakes and weaknesses of the demo-
cratic and parliamentary governments of western Europe
— and they were only too numerous — posterity will judge
them leniently, since these governments would never have
involved the world in this war, or violated the neutrality
of Belgium, or waged war in so barbarous a manner. At
the same time the world will be forced to recognize that
a little more farsightedness before the war and a little more
rapidity, energy and intelligence in its prosecution, would
have been of material service to these governments. It is

196 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

fairly safe to predict that all the nations concerned will
issue from the war more or less dissatisfied with their re-
spective governments, for one reason or another. Seeing,
however, that every civilized form of government is rep-
resented among the belligerent states, the European War
is hardly likely to furnish any decisive argument in favour
of any one such form; it is more likely to emphasize the
weak points of all the various systems which Europe has
created and tried in the hope of finding the one most nearly
approaching perfection.

The same thing applies to the much disputed subject of
protection and free trade. It is dif^cult to say which of
these two theories, each of which has had such ardent
partisans during the last century, is likely to gain by the
experiences of the war, which seems to prove protection
and free trade to be equally necessary and equally danger-
ous. Has it not shown conclusively that national defence
is impossible without the support of certain industries which
must consequently be artificially furthered if they fail to
develop naturally? It is obvious today that absolute free
trade would put certain European countries at the mercy
of others from a military point of view, but it is no
less clear that the increasing difficulties with which all the
belligerents have to cope are partly due to the hindrances
placed in the way of international commerce by the war.
Food supply dif^culties have exercised great influence on
the course of the war and are likely to influence its out-
come, but these difficulties are merely the result of the sup-
pression of free trade. Just as absolute free trade would
have placed certain countries at the mercy of others, the
blockade, that is to say, the suppression of exchange, will
be one of the causes of the eventual capitulation of the

PROBLEMS OF THE NEW WORLD 197

Central Empires, Even in this problem, we find ourselves
faced by an insoluble contradiction.

II

There would be no difficulty in finding other examples.
Any thoughtful man who turns his attention towards the
events of the present day and the discussions to which they
give rise, will easily find other instances to which these
reflections apply and understood why so many sworn foes
have agreed to sink their differences. The various political
parties suddenly found themselves face to face and with-
out weapons of defence. The war has had the effect of
a philosophic earthquake, shaking to their very founda-
tions the most diametrically opposed ideas or at all events
those which claimed to solve the most urgent problems of
contemporary life. It is a phenomenon unique in the his-
tory of the world and one which is worthy the attention
of all thoughtful minds not wholly absorbed by the military
situation, just as financiers are already turning their atten-
tion to the taxation and commercial treaties of the future.
This intellectual upheaval is indeed a far more serious
problem than the destruction of wealth and probably no less
so than the destruction of so many human lives which
were the hope and mainstay of Europe. This upheaval
will probably be the point of departure of that great crisis
of modem civilization of which the world war is but the
prologue — a crisis which promises to be universal,
economic, intellectual and moral. In order to realize the
truth of this, we have only to consider the position after
the conclusion of peace of the institutions, parties and
theories of which the war has shown the weak points and

198 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

falsified the predictions. These institutions, political par-
ties and theories, which ruled European society with vary-
ing degrees of success before the war, will find themselves,
as it were, in an empty void, and the probable consequences
of such a position and the moral crisis resulting from it
are easily divined. Hence it is important to seek its causes.
How was it possible for so learned and powerful a civiliza-
tion to be suddenly confronted with events which falsified
so many of its beliefs, shattered so many of its hopes and
proved all it had thought and accomplished during two
generations to be erroneous? How could it fall into so
gross an error?

HI

The answer to this question is simple. The error was
possible because our civilization had too many aims and,
by striving to attain them all at the same time, had lost the
power of selection. This expression may seem obscure, but
I will endeavour to explain it by choosing the most obvious
of the numerous examples which lie to hand: the way in
which Europe had faced and solved one of those great
problems which have engaged the attention of every success-
ive generation — the problem of peace and war. In every
age there have been discussions as to peace and war, their
nature and the part they play in the world. In every age
there have been men who looked upon perpetual peace as
the highest good and others who regarded law as the divine
law of life. Without entering into the discussion of this
subject, we may safely assert that there have been periods
when the principle of war has prevailed and others when
that of peace has been predominant ; that both have accom-
plished great things and that both have at a given moment

PROBLEMS OF THE NEW WORLD 199

passed through a crisis determined by the development of
the principle which had guided them. If it be admitted
that each state is a sovereign will, which neither can nor
should recognize any limit to its liberty save the greater
strength of another state, the principle of war will prevail.
Each state will strive to be as strong as possible; it will
turn every citizen into a soldier; it will avoid contact with
other states, that is to say, with those other sovereign wills
which are fated to come into collision with its own will
in the course of time ; it will be hostile to everything which
tends to make the peoples of different countries expand and
fuse their interests: i.e., to commerce, treaties, international
marriages and the adoption of foreign customs. It will
act upon what I may call the principles of narrow national-
ism on which the cities of ancient times were founded;
the system prevalent in part of the classical world before
the Pax Romana. It cannot be said that this regime is in
itself opposed to human nature or radically bad, when we
reflect how much was accomplished by ancient civilizations
under it, but if, on the other hand, it be admitted that each
state is subject to a higher law of fraternity, charity and
moral perfection, of which it is but the instrument, political
and military organization will lose much of its importance
and the necessity of fulfiling this higher duty will lead men
to fuse their interests, ideas and sentiments. We have an
example of this, due to the influence of Christianity, in
mediaeval Europe. The peoples of Europe had almost en-
tirely lost their political and military spirit ; they were no
longer capable of organizing a great state ; their wars, which
occupy so large a place in our modern histories, were mere
child's play, since they did not know how to raise even a
small army and had lost the art of strategy. The intellect-
ual and moral frontiers between nations had vanished and

200 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

given place to a cosmopolitanism of which Latin was the
official language. The disadvantages of cosmopolitanism
were indoubtedly great, but here again the system cannot
be condemned as in itself opposed to human nature or
radically bad. The Middle Ages were amongst the greatest
periods in the history of Europe — a period to which we are
immensely indebted. It gradually populated countries
which the upheavals following the fall of the Roman Empire
had depopulated ; it brought many barbarians under the in-
fluence of civilization; it brought forth marvellous arts —
architecture, for instance. Moreover, it was under this
regime of political cosmopolitanism that Europe began that
magnificent work of exploration which has made the whole
world ours.

It is therefore clear that man can live under either a
national or a cosmopolitan regime and neither will prevent
his contributing his quota to that great and mysterious task
of history whose purpose we vainly seek to read. Both sys-
tems have their weak points and drawbacks ; like all things
human, they have their limits and at some given time they
become exhausted; they may, however, none the less be of
service to what we somewhat vaguely term the progress of
the world, provided that man makes a definite choice between
them and accepts all their inevitable disadvantages. The
inhabitants of classical cities did not aspire to the advantages
of cosmopolitanism, just as the peoples of the Middle Ages
resigned themselves to the drawbacks of political dismem-
berment and disarmament. The weakness of the individual
state was an essential condition of the cosmopolitanism of
the Middle Ages, just as the spirit of exclusion was an
essential condition of Sparta and Rome. Where our age
has failed is in its inability to choose between two principles
and two systems. By developing to the utmost a movement

PROBLEMS OF THE NEW WORLD 201

which began in the seventeenth century, it has confused
these two distinct principles, just as if it were possible for
them to develop side by side without the time ever coming
when one of them would say to the other : " Thus far and
no farther," thus making a choice absolutely unavoidable.
It had apparently adopted the principle of peace. The vari-
ous states of Europe, large and small alike, had made end-
less treaties and agreements. They had all allowed for-
eigners to reside, move about freely, own property, engage
in commerce and marry within their borders. They had
done everything in their power to encourage the exchange
of capital, merchandise, ideas, discoveries and tastes. We
had ceased to possess an international language like Latin,
but there was more study of languages, and important books
were translated into all the leading languages. Interna-
tionalism was ostentatiously advocated by certain political
parties and an international organization of interests had
come into existence which was to a certain extent the neces-
sary condition of the interior well-being of each nation.
The Great Powers of Europe had moreover recognized of-
ficially, though with varying degrees of good faith, the
maintenance of peace as the end and object of their policy —
an aim to which everything else was to be subordinate. Our
age had indeed created a cosmopolitanism which in certain
respects recalled the Middle Ages. The logical consequence
was that the opposite principle of war should have been so
limited that wars endangering this international order, this
comity of nations, by their length, their extent or their dura-
tion would be absolutely impossible. This was not the case.
A political organization of the Great Powers, recalling in
many ways the nationalism and belligerent spirit of the cities
of ancient times, but on a far vaster scale, was grafted on
to this cosmopolitanism. The Great European Powers for

202 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

various reasons vied with each other in the increase of arma-
ments such as the world had never seen — armaments which
turned war into a duel a outrance, just as in the days when
each state looked upon each of its neighbours as an enemy.
In almost every country national pride, suspicion or hatred
of neighbouring peoples, the spirit of jealousy and rivalry,
the desire to be the first in everything were all sedulously
fostered, just as though we were living in a perpetual state
of war. In the most powerful military empire of Europe
we have even seen the development of a school enjoying
official protection, which preached to an unprotesting world
the doctrine of war knowing neither law nor limit, contempt
for treaties, the divine nature of force and the uselessness
of the rights of civilians. This school, intoxicated by
official protection and the admiration of the world, ended by
making Germany ready to make war upon the most highly
civilized nations of Europe, her best customers and most
sincere admirers, with the ferocity of African savages be-
fore they came under European rule. It is no exaggeration
to say that the nationalism grafted by Europe on to the in-
terests and aspirations of cosmopolitanism was far bolder
and far more dangerous than the nationalism of the ancient
world, which did at all events recognize the sanctity of-
treaties. A treaty was a sacred thing, placed under the pro-
tection of the divinity, and binding the contracting parties
unconditionally. A state which desired to violate a treaty
had to try and prove that it was really being true to it, since
it would have been an unheard of thing for it to declare that
it no longer intended to carry it out because it no longer
served its purposes, a theory which it was reserved for twen-
tieth century Europe to teach in its universities — a theory
evolved in Germany, of course, but received favourably even

PROBLEMS OF THE NEW WORLD 203

in the universities of those countries which are now fighting
against her.

IV

It is obvious enough today that if peace and war be two
natural conditions of human nature, we have, by our unwise
confusion of the principles of peace and war, invented a
high explosive which has ended by destroying Europe.
Europe had, however, gradually become so used to this
unique and paradoxical situation that she looked upon it as
quite natural. The various efforts made to rouse her to
a realization of her imminent peril all failed. This illusion
was after all but a special instance of a more universal
illusion to which our civilization fell victim, which was the
foundation of our whole mode of thought and of our con-
ception of the world, and will probably be looked upon by
our grandchildren as positively childish: i. e., the illusion
that man can have anything in the world without its corre-
sponding drawbacks — the advantages of war and the bene-
fits of peace ; both power and perfection, both quantity and
quality, both speed and beauty. Our age is the most learned
which the world has ever seen, but, in spite of its immense
learning, it had contrived to forget one very simple truth
which far more ignorant peoples have borne in mind : that
the good things of this world are so intimately interrelated
that it is impossible to enjoy them all at the same time for
an indefinite period. A moment invariably comes when
one becomes the limit of the other and a choice must be
made between them. This simple truth, of which we lost
sight in our quest of power and riches, is the key to the
whole of the vast tragedy which the world finds so hard to
understand. The contradiction between the two principles

204 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

of peace and war which we have studied has not been the
only error into which our age has fallen. But for the limi-
tations of space, we might analyse in like manner the anti-
thesis between the other principles of which we have spoken :
liberty and authority, tradition and progress, ethics and eco-
nomic interests. We should find everywhere, when compar-
ing our age with its predecessors, the same phenomenon :
the attempt to reconcile two irreconcilable principles instead
of assigning definite limits to each and then choosing be-
tween them. Our epoch, which was the first to attempt this
compromise, has done so in every sphere : in politics, ethics,
law, and even in art. Those who deplore the decadence of
art in the modern world are constantly told that no other
age has so striven to understand and appreciate the most
widely different schools, styles and artists. The remark
itself is true enough, but the conclusion drawn from it is
not equally so, since this endeavour to admire everything
results from an inability to make a definite choice peculiar
to our day. The ages which gave birth to the greatest works
of art were limited in their tastes. When artistic taste com-
prehends so many dififerent styles, it becomes feeble and
superficial and ends in becoming mere dilettantism which
weakens the creative power of the artist when he has not
the strength to rise above the caprices of fashion. The
effects of this inability to choose are, however, nothing like
as injurious to art as to law, politics and ethics. The en-
feeblement of governments, their inconsistencies, the irri-
tability and uncertainty of public opinion in every country,
the short-sighted fatalism prevalent before the war, the in-
toxication of public opinion In Germany, are one and all the
offspring of this intellectual and moral confusion. When
an age ceases to be governed by clear and definite principles,
its actions will be either slow and uncertain or violent and

PROBLEMS OF THE NEW WORLD 205

passionate, and Europe before the war was in both these
frames of mind. A nation which was a prey to diabolic
pride, unlimited greed, unbounded confidence in its own
strength and superiority, was surrounded by vacillating, per-
plexed peoples, conscious of their own weakness and of the
peril threatening them, but unable to do anything to avert
the dreaded catastrophe and even, from time to time, de-
ceiving themselves into thinking that the frenzy of their
dangerous neighbour could be held in check by smiles and
concessions. The intellectual and moral confusion, which
dominated our epoch and made a course of action having
definite aims and dictated by definite principles an im-
possibility, had brought about two opposite results : an ever
increasing frenzy in Germany and an ever increasing dis-
quietude in every other country, and it was inevitable that
this frenzy should one day break out openly in central
Europe and claim as its victims the perplexed peoples of
the neighbouring lands.

How could such an enlightened epoch as our own cherish
the delusion that it is possible to possess everything at the
same time? What part was played in the great drama of
modern history by that inability to choose which resulted
from this illusion and is characteristic of our age? Here
we have the great problem which Europe must face once
more and endeavour to solve definitely after the war, when
so many institutions and theories which seemed founded
upon the rock will prove to have been built upon the sand. I
said that Europe must face this problem once more and en-
deavour to solve it definitely, because it has been continually
discussed under the most varied forms during the last cen-
tury. The two solutions found seem, however, to have been

206 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

mere makeshifts, since one of them regarded this confusion
merely as an aberration of minds led astray by pride and
false doctrine, while the other looked upon it as a higher
condition, a kind of perfection attained at last by part of
the human race. The time has perhaps come when man
will more readily realize the inadequacy of both these solu-
tions. It is not difficult to prove that, far from being a
mere collective aberration, this confusion was the condition
of an immense effort made by the two last centuries. It
must not be forgotten, if we would understand the modern
world and its crises, that Europe has for two hundred years
been engaged upon two gigantic tasks without precedent in
history. She has been striving to organize society and the
state on wholly new principles, such as the will of the people,
liberty, the concept of progress, nationality and its rights,
and she was at the same time endeavouring to populate the
whole earth and turn it to account with the help of marvel-
lous instruments, thus making the whole world one. In
order to succeed in both these tasks she had to stimulate
the energy, initiative, activity and capacity for work of
every class, — an unceasing effort which has been consider-
ably furthered by the illusion that man can have all the good
things of this world at the same time, and by the mental
fog which leads him to confuse beauty and ugliness, good
and evil, truth and error. Men and ages alike, when aiming
at rapid and continual success, are fond of Imagining them-
selves omnipotent and are unwilling to be hampered by
definite ethical, logical or aesthetic principles, which, while
sure rules of conduct, are also definite limitations. A civil-,
ization which aimed at the rapid creation of wealth, insti-
tutions, conceptions, theories, machinery and new nations,
was bound to hate all modes of thought and all laws which
would have hampered it and to adopt standards sufficiently

PROBLEMS OF THE NEW WORLD 207

flexible to approve as good and beautiful everything which
favoured its many and varied interests.

This confusion, which has been considered a mere aberra-
tion, was therefore the essential condition of what we have
rightly or wrongly called the progress of our age. Must we
then conclude that those who regarded this confusion as a
state of perfection were in the right? In default of other
reasons, the crisis of so many institutions and opposing doc-
trines, which began with the European War, would be
enough to make us doubt it. If the principles of authority
and liberty, of pacifism and militarism, of nationalism and
cosmopolitanism, have all alike been affected by the war, it
would be absurd to conclude that they are all alike false and
that they must one and all disappear. They are all prin-
ciples which have ruled human society and it is obvious
that they must continue to do so, since it is impossible to con-
ceive of a state not dominated by one or other of them.
What else is then proved by this universal crisis of necessary
institutions and doctrines but that we must no longer strive
to reconcile and blend opposing principles as we have hith-
erto done ; that we must no longer desire peace and prepare
for war at the same time, multiply the prerogatives of the
state and diminish its authority and its prestige, worship
both right and force and confuse success with perfection?

VI

We see then that there are numerous indications that the
time is approaching when Europe will have to choose one
of the various principles which she had confounded. If this
be the case, we can also see what a tremendous intellectual
task will fall to the lot of the new world, which will have to
substitute systems of philosophy, ethics, politics, law and

208 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

religion, schools of art and learning whose aim it will be to
distinguish between opposing principles from those which
endeavoured to reconcile and fuse them — an attempt to
which they owe the success which they have enjoyed during
the last half century. Thus stated, the change seems simple
enough, but those who have to initiate it will soon realize
that it involves a far reaching intellectual revolution. The
whole question of German versus Latin culture, which has
been the subject of such heated discussions since 1914, con-
tains in itself a dim presentiment of the necessity and diffi-
culty of this intellectual revolution. Since that fateful date
there has been one continual protest against the supremacy
of the obscure and ill-balanced Teutonic genius over the
lucid and harmonious Latin genius. How was it possible
to prefer obscurity and complication to lucidity and simplic-
ity? Why was the brilliant Latin genius dimmed by the
fogs borne by the north wind from the forests of Germany?
Surely this state of things must come to an end. On all
hands it is admitted that the Latin and the Germanic genius
are irreconcilably opposed. What is the meaning of all
these protests and recriminations?

What has already been said, and a careful comparison of
modern civilization with the civilizations of ancient times
will help us again here. The lucidity of the Latin genius
is merely the endeavour to define principles exactly, to pre-
vent their being confused with one another, and conse-
quently to lay down accurate and certain laws. German
obscurity, which has so frequently been taken for depth, is
the attempt to confound principles by weakening the force
of laws. In philosophy, law, ethics, history, in every
branch of learning indeed, the German mind has, more
especially during the last two centuries, steadily confounded
principles and definitions, demolished traditions, confused

PROBLEMS OF THE NEW WORLD 209

good and evil, the beautiful and the ugly, the true and the
false, in order to give a freer rein to passions and interests.
The moral and intellectual confusion of our age is not
wholly the work of the German mind ; other peoples, even
the Latin races themselves, have helped to bring it about,
but there can be no doubt that the German mind has accom-
plished more in this direction than any other, and it is just
because it has been, often under the cloak of liberty, the most
determined and energetic factor in this untold disorder, that
in spite of or, it may be, on account of its faults, it has con-
trived to obtain the pre-eminence in the modern world. It
appealed to the tendencies of an age which would submit to
no discipline but that imposed by work and the state and
aspired in everything else, in art and private morals, in
religion and family life, in business and pleasure alike, to
an ever increasing measure of liberty. Even obscurity of
form had become a virtue, since it served to conceal the in-
coherence of contradictory doctrines. Kant, one of the
most involved writers of any age or country, was the most
highly esteemed philosopher of the nineteenth century : why ?
Because contradiction was the very essence of his system.'
His materialistic spirituality, his absolute relativism, his
theistic atheism, his free determinism, were admirably suited
to a period which thought it did well to admit all principles,
even to the most contradictory, so as to make use of them
all. Obscurity was a valuable quality to a system which
was based upon contradiction. H Kant had written like
St. Thomas Aquinas or Descartes, the world would perforce
have seen all those contradictions which he was anxious to
conceal from it.

The hatred of Germanism which is now prevalent leads
us then to the same conclusion as the examination of the
position of political parties and doctrines at the close of the

SIO EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

war. We must strive to emerge from the intellectual and
moral confusion by which we were surrounded when the
war broke out, and if we are to do so, we must make a
great intellectual effort in the direction indicated by our
analysis of this confusion. We must induce coming gen-
erations to aim rather less at power and rather more at
perfection; we must teach the mind to find enjoyment once
more in lucidity of thought and simplicity of sentiment; we
must familiarize man in a world grown so wide, and a
civilization become so powerful, with the idea of the impass-
able limits of truth, beauty, virtue, reason and power, which
men understood so readily when they were weaker and more
ignorant; we must discover scholars, artists, writers and
philosophers endowed with not only the intelligence but also
the moral force necessary for the accomplishment of this
task. Will' Europe be equal to this effort? The future
alone can tell. It would seem, however, as if not only the
possibility of a lasting peace, but the very existence of the
older civilized peoples depended on this transformation.
We have always felt somewhat out of place amid this
confusion, which was only suited to nations, which, like the
German peoples, were subject to fits of passion and attacks
of collective madness. Of this the present crisis affords a
proof. The governments of the nations now arrayed
against Germany and Austria have frequently been re-
proached for their lack of military preparedness. It is,
however, beyond question that this unpreparedness, at least
in so far as France, Great Britain and Italy are concerned,
was not due merely to lack of foresight on the part of their
respective governments. We allowed ourselves to be out-
distanced by Germany in the race for armaments partly be-
cause we realized that this race was madness and that the
exaggeration of the system was making it absurd. Not

1>R0BLEMS OF THE NEW WORLD ^11

being blinded, like the German people, by pride, covetous-
ness and ambition, we shrank from developing a system
whose excesses, complications, difficulties, imtold sacrifices
and dangers were more or less clearly perceived by all
nations. We were wrong, of course, and we are now ex-
piating our mistake. This expiation will not, however,
render reasoning nations better able to play their part in a
world dominated by the absurd and its train of attendant
passions. It is therefore a matter of life and death for us
to lead the policy and institutions of Europe back to more
humane and logical conceptions than those prevalent dur-
ing the last half century, since in a world ruled by passions
and theories carried to extreme, those of us who are rea-
sonable beings will always be at a disadvantage and will
end by becoming the victims of the madman and the tur-
bulent. It is above all for this reason that we must do
everything in our power to bring the war to a victorious
end. We shall not deliver Europe from the insanity of
which she all but died unless we succeed in defeating that
army which is the master-piece of that rabid spirit to which
Europe has been forced to submit for the last forty years —
a spirit which she had even come to admire from time
to time. This is the task of the soldiers of whom we think
with such tenderness and with the hope that they may ac-
complish it ere long and with such a meed of success that
their sacrifices may not be in vain. When, however, their
work is finished, the task of scholars, philosophers and law-
yers will begin and we must only hope that their patience,
tenacity and self-sacrifice will prove worthy of the soldiers
who are preparing the way for better times — times in which
Europe, far removed from the perils which menace her on
every hand today, may live in peace and safety in the light
of newer and loftier conceptions.

CHAPTER VII
The Great Contradiction

THE GREAT CONTRADICTION

When we consider the present state of things in Europe,
we invariably find ourselves confronted by the question —
a question as persistent as the importunate widow, a ques-
tion which has never yet been satisfactorily answered —
How is it that an epoch so concentrated on the increase of
wealth, the greater security of life and the establishment
of the universal rule of reason could prepare, wmII and wage
this appalling conflict? We will make one more attempt
to find the answer to this poignant and ever recurring ques-
tion.

I

PATRIOTISM AND PROGRESS

The old proverb tells us that " it is an ill wind that blows
nobody good," and even in the terrible calamities of the
world war we may find some ground for encouragement.
It was commonly supposed that if a European war ever
broke out, and reason and compassion failed to do their
work, egotism would issue the order to lay down arms.
It was further alleged that in every grade of society men
had been too long accustomed to an easy and safe existence
to endure the ruin and privation of a universal war. We
were told that revolution would be the inevitable result
if the war lasted more than three months. Our century
was credited with the spirit of self-sacrifice and abnega-
tion for a few weeks at most. The General Staffs of
Europe recognized self-interest as their sovereign and de-
clared that they would never go to war except in obedience
to his orders. When- the history of the Great War comes

215

gl6 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

to be written, it will be seen that almost all the blunders and
cruelties of its early days were due to haste. The rulers
who had willed the great adventure set out with the fixed
idea that the campaign must be finished quickly because no
nation would stand a long ordeal. Here, however, we did
ourselves scant justice. None of these prophecies has been
fulfilled. In July, 19 14, the dissensions which had so long
troubled Europe seemed to take on a fresh lease of life.
Civil war appeared imminent in Ireland. In France the
two parties which had for centuries been at loggerheads,
had flown at each other's throats in the confined area of
the law courts. In Italy there had been a sort of dress re-
hearsal of revolution. In Russia millions of workmen
had gone on strike. In Austria each of the many races
of which the Empire is composed was endeavouring to
shift the blame for the assassination at Sarajevo on to the
shoulders of its neighbours. But in the forty-eight hours
from July 30th to August ist, when it became apparent
that war was inevitable, all these dissensions were laid-
aside. Even France, the country whose geographical posi-
tion and history alike have made it the storm centre of
Europe for centuries — the land in which the struggle be-
tween Teutonism and Latinism, Protestantism and Catholi-
cism, authority and liberty, the principle of quantity and the
principle of quality have never ceased — had but one heart
and one soul, perhaps for the first time since the days of
Julius Csesar. Not only did political and religious discords
cease, but the mutual recriminations of riches and poverty
also came to an end. Socialism betook itself to the near-
est barracks and donned its uniform as meekly as a young
conscript fresh from his native village. Moreover, today,
after more than three years of war in which millions of

THE GREAT CONTRADICTION 217

men have been killed and wounded, untold wealth destroyed,
and the whole order of things we had known for so many
years demolished, not one of the belligerent nations has
uttered a cry for mercy. History had never subjected such
an immense number of men to such an ordeal and the great
ordeal has been so magnificently borne as to be almost
miraculous. But each of the so-called miracles of history
is a slow process accomplished secretly by time and sud-
denly revealed to man in its completed state. We find
the explanation of this miracle, too, in the revolutionary
changes which began in Europe after the discovery of
America to which we have so often turned for the key to
the calamities of the present day changes, which by giving
a fresh aim to existence, gradually rendered the world more
uniform and hence more harmonious. It is of course
obvious that modern civilization is more uniform than its
predecessors ; for proof of this assertion we only have to
compare Europe and America, and the most ancient lands
of Europe with its more modern countries. Most people,
however, fail to realize clearly that this difference too results
from the transition from ancient qualitative civilization to
its modern quantitative successor. The man who aims at
perfection must of necessity work in limited sphere; he
must, that is to say, choose one of the innumerable types
of perfection with which he is confronted, without, how-
ever, concentrating all his powers of soul and intellect
upon it or ignoring or rejecting all the rest, for there is
no surer way of being mediocre in everything than to aim
at too many different types of perfection. Variety, isola-
tion and discord are consequently the very essence of all
qualitative civilization, which aims at one or more types
of perfection : hence the countless religious, artistic, literary,

218 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

moral and political struggles which rent the world asunder
in times past. At the present day the only violent struggles
are those between races and languages, where one race is
governed by another which wishes to force it into allegi-
ance to an alien people and tongue. The other struggles
— religious, artistic, literary, moral and political — have
for the last fifty years been gradually growing feebler in
both Europe and America. What is the reason of this
change ? It is because in proportion as quantity dominates
the world and man chooses the conquest of the earth as his
aim rather than beauty, glory, heroism, honour, and holi-
ness, the differences which in time gone by aroused such
bitter hatred and caused so many wars gradually lose their
force and finally vanish altogether. Europe still numbers
among her inhabitants Catholics and Protestants, laymen
and clergy, the proletariat, the middle classes and the
nobility, the learned and the ignorant, romanticists and
classicists, conservatives and liberals, monarchists and
republicans, but the men of the present day hardly notice
these differences when they are labouring together to con-
quer the wealth of the world, — an enterprise in which noth-
ing counts but skill, zeal and activity. An artisan, an em-
ploye, an engineer or an official is estimated according
to what he can do, not according to the religion he happens
to profess. The upper classes may still have more refine-
ment of manner, but the middle classes are richly endowed
with the energy which the world holds of more account
than manners, because it is of more service. The proletariat
may be coarse and ignorant, but does that give the upper
classes any right to look down upon them? If the masses
did not work hard and spend their wages freely; if they
were content, as in the good old times, to earn little and
live poorly provided they had not to work too long, would

THE GREAT CONTRADICTION 219

not the upper classes be impoverished? It is not difficult
for the rich to show human sympathy for the masses in aiv
era when they can love themselves in them. Literature
has ceased to be a laborious striving after a high and envied
degree of perfection and has become but a pastime or a
weapon in the latest political and social struggles which
rend the world asunder: provided that it fulfils these two
purposes, one school or one style is the same as another
to an eclectic and changeable public which has lost the
very idea of the standards of perfection at which literature
was wont to aim in times past. Monarchy and republic
are two forms of government based upon different prin-
ciples; but who has either time or leisure to fight for or
against either of these principles in a century whose one
object is to increase the wealth of the world? Republics,
kingdoms and empires alike strive to enrich their respective
peoples. It is therefore the part of wisdom to make the
best of the existing regime. The last republicans will re-
sign themselves to living in a monarchy and the last
monarchists to living in a republic. Hence for the last
century, during which man has devoted himself with grow-
ing enthusiasm to the conquest of the earth to the neglect
of every other enterprise and ambition, every nation of
Europe and America has become a more or less homo-
geneous mass, in which the struggles between opposing re-
ligious, moral and aesthetic principles characteristic of pre-
ceding civilizations, and even differences of religion, class
and race have become obliterated and the spirit of isola-
tion and discord has gradually grown weaker. This ac-
counts for the accusations of materialism and of indiffer-
ence to everything but wealth so frequently brought against
our age — accusations which are, however, unmerited, since
there are two mystic ideas which pervade the homo-

220 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

geneous mass of modern nations and insure their coherence:
patriotism and progress, — both very simple ideas or at all
events ideas which can be simplified to such a degree as to
bring them within the comprehension of even the most
ignorant. Both are somewhat vague, by which I mean
that they are more apt to excite than to restrain the dominant
passions of the epoch and more especially the pride which
plays such a prominent part among the sentiments actuating
our century. The idea of progress is, as I have already
pointed out, both contradictory and incoherent. Both
these ideas may be regarded as mystic and transcendant,
because they force man to sacrifice his egotism — today
his pleasure, tomorrow his liberty, his most cherished
opinions, his possessions and sometimes even his life to
something which transcends them all — something invisible,
something surrounded with the halo of a sacred mystery.
Even if up to August ist, 19 14, man toiled from morning
to night to increase the wealth of the world, did he enjoy
the fruits of his toil? Why do we bear so many burdens
— unceasing hard work, military service for a term of
several years, the perpetual danger of war, innumerable
taxes and countless civic duties — unless it be to further
this ill-defined progress whose meaning we hardly under-
stand and to create wealth which is more often than not a
burden and a source of anxiety? This epoch, which is sup-
posed to be so practical, is on the contrary mystical to the
last degree, and that nation which is apparently the most
practical of all, the American people, is the most mystical,
since it more than any other strives to create wealth of which
it has the least enjoyment!

Do not let us be unjust to our epoch if we would under-
stand the European War and find an explanation of its
surprises. The sudden concord between the citizens of all

THE GREAT CONTRADICTION 2^1

the nations of Europe, the spirit of sacrifice of which they
have given proof, are no inexpHcable miracle. Europe
desired peace, but when she saw the German menace, she
met German concord with her own concord; she was able
to put aside in a few days all religious and political dissen-
sions, because they had for long been growing weaker and
because the spirit of patriotism had spread in even the least
homogeneous of nations. The fact that Germany had given
the example made it easier for the various governments to
obtain the ready consent of the whole people to every sacri-
fice, and they were thus enabled, with the help of the power-
ful means at the disposal of the modem state, to take posses-
sion of both body and soul of their respective nations to
such a degree as to make any subsequent repentance both
useless and impossible. We see every nation bearing the
unspeakable sacrifices of war with the utmost patience,
either because in every nation, and more especially in those
composed of a single race speaking the same language, the
spirit of patriotism has pervaded even the most ignorant
classes; or because they have pledged themselves to their
Allies to fight to the bitter end, so that none can now draw
back; the aggressors as a matter of honour and for fear
of the reprisals they so well deserve and the victims from
the necessity of defending themselves and the thirst for
vengeance.

We thus find ourselves brought to the happiest of con-
clusions. We have really been born in the Golden Age
of legend and poetry! The doctrine of progress cannot
deceive us, even if we cannot define it accurately! The
world is really on the path of progress, since we possess
all this world's goods — ^ wealth, power, learning, concord
and the spirit of sacrifice; since we are capable of living
in peace and yet know how to make war. The century

223 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

which we reproached with materialism, concealed un-
suspected treasures of heroisni.

II

THE TWO SIDES OF PROGRESS

This conclusion is, however, too optimistic and too hasty.
The doctrine of progress in which we have hitherto believed
was ambiguous if not actually false, and its ambiguity has
involved us in the present crisis. When I was travelling
in America and comparing that continent with the classical
world which had for so many years been my spiritual home ;
when I was subjecting the innumerable contradictions in-
herent in our idea of progress to the searchlight of analysis,
and gazing at the world half sadly as it struggled and strove
for something newer and better without really knowing
what, I had never for a moment imagined that within a
few short years one of these contradictions would bring
about such a catastrophe. The student who would trace
the causes of the European War back to their remotest
origin, passing in review one by one the intrigues of diplo-
matists, the sinister plans of General Staffs, the ambitions of
governments, the jealousies of nations, the agitations of the
press, the random utterances of paid philosophers, the
rivalries of industry and commerce, the turmoils of decadent
empires, the sufferings of oppressed peoples, the pride,
ambition and dreams of the German nation and its tendency
to overshoot the mark, will find himself led step by step
to one of the numerous contradictions in the midst of which
we have lived for the last century — the great contradiction
from which we have never succeeded in liberating our-
' selves — the mania for increasing the power of man with-

THE GREAT CONTRADICTION 223

out troubling to distinguish between the creative and the
destructive power. When science made some new dis-
covery, when industry constructed some more rapid and
powerful machine, when we counted our riches and found
that they had increased, we were convinced that the world
was progressing. Had our century not undertaken to con-
quer the whole earth with the help of fire and science?
Was not every step which brought us nearer this goal to be
regarded as progress? Europe and America had therefore
advanced by abandoning the old time coaches for trains
and sailing boats for steamers; by inventing the telegraph,
the telephone, the motorcar, the aeroplane and the dirigible ;
by acquiring the knowledge and the means enabling it to
pierce the Isthmus of Panama; by constructing reaping,
threshing, measuring, ploughing and sewing machines and
other machines for making shoes, driving in nails, and per-
forming at lightning speed many other operations for which
for centuries man had no other apparatus than his hand.

Nor is this all. Our era, consistently with its own defini-
tion of progress, extolled activity, discipline, obedience,
courage, energy, initiative, ambition and self-confidence as
the noblest of virtues; its heroes were self-made men,
fortunate or unfortunate inventors, pioneers of every sort
of aspiration, leaders of revolutionary movements in art,
industry, religion, banking, fashion and politics. Our epoch,
however, has not confined itself to constructing railways,
ships, ploughs and threshing machines; it has not merely
discovered marvellous remedies, and hov/ to make electricity
produce a brilliant light, and learned to talk and write across
space; it has also manufactured rifles, guns, ironclads, and
explosives a hundred times more powerful and more deadly
than those known to our fathers and grandfathers. It
enlarged and beautified schools, hospitals and libraries; but

224 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

with what appalHng weapons it has furnished the greatest
armies the world has ever seen ! Are we to be equally proud
of both these types of progress? It is a difficult question
to answer. If we answer it in the affirmative, we were
virtually adopting Hegelianism, venerating destruction as
much as creation and worshipping God and the devil on the
same altar — a view revolting to an epoch which believed
in the goodness of human nature and strove so hard to in-
crease the wealth of the world. If, however, we answer
it in the negative, universal disarmament, the dethronement
of the monarchies at the head of the present armies, the
reconstruction of the map of Europe and a far-reaching
change in the spirit of the modern state should necessarily
have followed. For such sweeping changes Europe had not
the courage. She took refuge in ambiguity and a definition
of progress sufficiently vague to cover both peace and war,
justice and violence, life and death, steam ploughs and
Lewis guns, Pasteur serum and melinite. She shrank from
saying definitely whether the same meed of admiration was
to be accorded to audacity, courage, self-sacrifice, initiative
and perseverance when displayed in wars of aggression as
when employed in the struggle against nature. She has
always halted between two opinions. The century de-
manded peace, but its teaching was received with such ironic
smiles by so many soldiers, philosophers and politicians that
it lost heart, and the century which had dared so much did
not venture even to repeat what St. Thomas Aquinas boldly
affirmed amid the barbarism of the Middle Ages — that
war is only justifiable when waged in a good cause and
without evil intention.

Thus the day dawned when Germany set Europe ablaze.
She dared this crime just because she had brought to greater
perfection than any other nation this very conception of

THE GREAT CONTRADICTION 2^5

progress which reconciles the idea of destruction with that
of creation by affirming boldly that a people must strive
to be great in peace and war alike, and that it is no less
meritorious and glorious for it to force other nations to sub-
mit to its will than for it to conquer nature and wrest her
secrets from her. The victories of 1866 and 1870, the
development of her industries, the increase of both her
population and her wealth, the lack of feeling for humanity
and of sense of proportion characteristic of the German
mentality, the wave of overweening pride, ambition and
cupidity which has swept over Germany during the last few
years explain how she has been able to reconcile two such
contradictory principles in her hybrid definition of
progress; how she could manufacture instruments of life and
death without apparently any feeling of incongruity, build
factories and barracks, merchant ships and ironclads; how
she could at one and the same time be a vast factory and
a vast entrenched camp, by regarding progress as a two-
faced deity, inciting men to become at once wealthier and
more redoubtable, more learned and more cruel, more in-
dustrious and more violent. Then, when she had reached
the very zenith of prosperity and power, she thought she
had also reached the apex of strength and challenged three
great nations to a deadly combat, and the great butchery
began — that butchery whose end cannot be foreseen, since
this war differs from all previous struggles in that it knows
no limits whether of space, time or form.

Ill

A RUTHLESS WAR

In all preceding wars, even in that of 1870, only part
of the nation was engaged — that young, vigorous sec-

226 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

tion whicH was already trained in the use of arms. The
forces on which each nation could count were limited and
wars were consequently short, violent and decisive. In the
present war several of the great belligerent nations have
ceased to take into account either age, weakness, lack of
training or family circumstances: every man capable of
learning in a few weeks how to handle a gun is pressed
into the service. It may indeed truthfully be said that even
women and old men have been mobilized, since those who
are not actually fighting are taking the place of those on
active service in all kinds of civil employment, caring for
the wounded and helping families whose heads are away.
One almost wonders whether the war will not be brought
to an end by beardless lads and white-haired men. The
participation of all Europe in the wars of the French Revo-
lution and the Empire had appeared something at once
tremendous and imheard of: this time Europe, the whole
of North America and many of the South American States,
British India, China, Japan, Siam, a large part of Africa
and all the British overseas dominions are involved —
practically the whole civilized world. When the war broke
out, we all thought it could not possibly last more than a
few months; forty months have elapsed and, unless some
miracle happens, there seems nothing to prevent its dragging
on for many another weary month. Although it is certain
that the Great War must come to an end some day, like
everything else in the world, and it is not unlikely that the
end may be sudden, we can as yet catch no glimpse of the
boimd set to this fresh instance of human folly; nor do
we see any signs of a limit to the ruthlessness of those
of the belligerents who apparently propose to wage warfare
with no regard to the dictates of laws, conventions or prin-
ciples of compassion and humanity.

THE GREAT CONTRADICTION ^27

Even legend has no records of such a struggle — a
struggle involving such hosts of combatants, such pro-
longed battles, such vi^holesale destruction of life and prop-
erty, such arousing of the fiercest passions of mankind.
Modern civilization is more powerful than any of its
predecessors, but it will brook neither curb nor limit, and is
consequently lacking in discernment. It creates and de-
stroys, does good and evil according to the dictates of self-
interest and the circumstances or passions of the moment,
and it does both in accordance with its character, that is to
say, on a large scale. For three generations it busied it-
self colonizing new countries, opening up new routes, in-
creasing riches, learning and machinery, teaching and dis-
ciplining the masses, and it must be admitted that it ac-
complished marvels. When, however, in a moment of mad-
ness it turned its energies to destruction, it achieved its
object to an equally great degree. Are not the very virtues
— concord, patriotism, the spirit of self-sacrifice — evoked
by the war also the very reason why this fierce struggle
has lasted so long? Germany, France, Belgium, Serbia,
Russia, Austria and the rest have been fighting now for
years; now the one, now the other side gaining the upper
hand; countless thousands have fallen and yet the war is
still going on. Why? Because the conflict has ceased to
be merely between armies and states and is being waged
by whole peoples, each and all of them equally determined
to conquer at any cost, because they are one and all animated
by that mystic spirit of patriotism which adds fresh fuel
to the fires of pride and love of domination on the one side
and inspires their opponents with the determination to
avenge the wrong inflicted upon them by their aggressors.
This too explains why the defeats and victories of this war
are never decisive. Battles which do not end in the an-

228 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

nihilation of the forces of one or other side — and such
decisive battles are rare — have no effect beyond the moral
impression they make: hence a people may be defeated re-
peatedly without being conquered provided it does not lose
heart and hope. The vv^ars waged by the ancient Romans
afford endless proofs of the truth of this assertion, for there
has never been a nation which was often more defeated or
won more wars. Were we then self-deceived when we
flattered ourselves that our civilization had attained a higher
degree of perfection than any of its predecessors? It
would almost appear so. There are compensating circum-
stances in everything. The men of the Middle Ages were
undoubtedly poorer, coarser and more ignorant than our-
selves ; they had no railways, no aeroplanes, no submarines ;
on the other hand they never so much as dreamed of the
horrors witnessed almost as a matter of course by Europe
today: cities burned down, millions of men killed, mutilated,
burned alive, blown up by appalling explosions, great vessels
sinking in a few minutes with their living freight. The
Europe of 13 17 was a paradise compared to the Europe of
1917: and this is the result of six centuries of progress —
progress which surely gives the Chinese, Indians and other
peoples to whom we are wont to consider ourselves so
superior, every right to smile ironically — progress which
fills the soul of many a European with deep distrust. Is
this progress ? we may well ask. We can no longer let the
question pass in silence, as we have done hitherto, claiming
that the answer is to be found in our deeds rather than in
our words ; for our desire to advance without wasting time
defining progress and taking for granted that everything
which served our purpose or ministered to our pleasure
for the time being must necessarily be progress, has brought
us to the point of destroying in a few months the treasures

THE GREAT CONTRADICTION 229

which it has taken us years to accummulate and of being
forced to look on helplessly at the wholesale massacre of
our young men. And this in an age which has even set up
societies for the prevention of cruelty to animals! The
masses have every right to ask those who in the name of
progress led them to this fiery ordeal whether they are not
themselves deluded. The Chinese and Indians may well ask
if the European War is to be regarded as another proof
of that civilization which we are so anxious they should
adopt. How many of us can be certain that the horrified
world will not answer by rejecting as false that progress
of which Europe was so proud?

IV

NEW STRENGTH AND ANCIENT WISDOM

And yet it is not really so. The progress in which we
have perhaps believed somewhat too readily is not altogether
a delusion ; it is rather one of the laws of life which at times
seems to be deceptive, simply because it is obscure and we
do not as yet understand it, although we are not insensible
to its influence.

It is beyond the power of man to foretell the future,
but we may none the less venture to assume that history
will look upon the European War as the crisis of a civiliza-
tion which prided itself on having enabled human energy
to throw off the chains and shackles which had hampered
it in the civilizations of the past, but proved powerless to
hold it in check when it fell a prey to the lust of destruction :
the crisis of a civilization which, after exhausting three
generations in laborious creative work, is now destroying
the fourth with all its heaped up wealth for the selfsame

230 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

reason — because it knows no bounds either for good or
evil. The first great crisis of that society to which Social-
ists apply the epithet capitalist (from the order of things
established by the nineteenth century in both Europe and
America) is the European War: a crisis very different from
that predicted by Socialists and no less so from the last
great historical crisis — the French Revolution. Then, an
age thirsting for liberty, wealth, power and learning arose
and overthrew all the ancient barriers which stood in the
way of the realization of its aspirations; today we see
tottering to its fall, wounded to death, an age, which after
winning for itself liberty, power, science and all the treasures
earth has to offer, has fallen victim to a mania which
prompts it to destroy not only itself but all the fruit of its
labours as well.

One of two things must happen. Either it will rise again,
its wounds closed, to resume as soon as it has sufficiently
recovered its strength, its course towards its old goal —
that goal which recedes as fast as man marches towards it
— in which case the European War will have been but a
parenthesis in the history of the twentieth century, a terrible
but transitory incident like an earthquake or a flood — a use-
less warning to man — the first rehearsal as it were, of a
still more appalling catastrophe to take place in fifty or a
hundred years; or else this war will cure the world once
for all of the mania which had taken possession of it, forc-
ing it to ask itself what use it has made in the past and what
use it should make in the future of its unbounded power —
a question which will mark the dawn of real progress. I see
no way out of the apparently insoluble difficulties with
which thought and action are confronted when thought
would fain define progress, and action is equally anxious
to put it into practice, save the admission that each epoch ac-

THE GREAT CONTRADICTION 231

complishes but a portion of the never ending and multifari-
ous task set humanity as a whole. Some civilizations have
produced works of art and systems of philosophy; others
political institutions ; others have given birth to religions and
rituals; others to fresh developments of industry and com-
merce and others again to weapons and the tactics of war.
All these incomplete labours of successive generations are
contributions towards a whole, and true progress lies in the
slow but constant additions made to their number — the
only way in which we can hope to reconcile quality and
quantity in our definition of progress, for each successive
generation possesses a larger number of qualitative prin-
ciples ; or, in other words, a larger number of aesthetic, politi-
cal, religious and moral principles, allowing of a greater
wealth of combinations and of a fuller and more original
hfe.

Let us take an example. If we compare ourselves with
the ancient Greeks or Romans or with the peoples of the
Middle Ages, we shall undoubtedly find that we are superior
to them in some respects, though inferior in others. The
Greeks were superior to us in art and literature ; the Romans
in law; the Middle Ages in certain branches of art, such
as architecture. On the other hand, we are much wealthier,
much more learned and much more powerful than the
Greeks, the Romans, or the peoples of the Middle Ages.
When confronted with these differences how are we then to
decide whether the world has made progress in the centuries
which have passed since the days of the ancient Greeks? If
we are to answer such a question, we much first decide
whether it is better to be a scholar or an artist, to construct
steam engines or build beautiful cathedrals, to explore Africa
or be the creator of " Antigone." It is, however, obvious
that every man and every age believe the work accomplished

233 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

by himself and his age to be the most useful and the noblest
of all, and that it is impossible to prove that riches are of
greater or less value than beauty, or beauty of greater or
less value than science. All the lines of argument by which
one or other of these points is supposed to have been proved
take for granted a definition of progress in which the thesis
to be proved is already tacitly admitted; they therefore
merely amount to sophisms which only interest and passion
could seriously look upon as arguments at all. We may,
however, fairly affirm that the world has progressed when
we compare our epoch as a whole with ancient Greece, for
we enjoy Greek art and literature; we are acquainted with
her philosophy; we have adopted some of her views and
political principles, while we are acquainted with other arts
unknown to the Greeks, mediaeval architecture, and Japa-
nese sculpture, amongst others ; we are acquainted with other
systems of philosophy; we practise the virtues taught by
Christianity, such as love of our neighbour, charity and
purity; we add to their political principles those to which
the French Revolution gave birth; we possess far wider
geographical and scientific knowledge; we travel by rail-
way, we speak across space and have learned to fly.

If this is what we understand by progress, a little light
is shed on the moral problems raised by the European War.
The increase of wealth, learning and power only constitutes
progress if we make of this wealth, learning and power a
wiser, nobler and finer use. We shall, however, never learn
to do so of ourselves and starting, as it were, from nothing
if we make no attempt to blend the ideas, sentiments and
principles transmitted to us by past generations with those
which we ourselves have created. The ancient civilizations
knew how to hold man in check and thus prevent him from,
committing great and dangerous acts of folly, but at the

THE GREAT CONTRADICTION 233

same time they limited his power of initiation and action.
Modern civiHzation exalted human energy by freeing it
from every fetter, and has enabled it to accomplish wonders,
but it has at the same time removed the bonds which re-
strained it from committing acts of supreme folly. Our
civilization will reach the zenith of glory and perfection
when, by tempering the new powers it has created with the
ancient wisdom it has forgotten, it succeeds in subduing
the disorderly energies of men to the moderating influence
of aesthetic, moral, religious and philosophical rules and prin-
ciples which shall set a limit to them — a limit as wide
as you will, but none the less clear and well defined. His-
torians and philosophers would accomplish ends of far
greater value if they would endeavour to prepare the mind
of man for this fusion of two great civilizations which may
give birth to a third civilization of a higher type than either,
instead of wasting their time on discussions as to whether
Romulus ever lived or not, or toying with eighteenth cen-
tury theories of knowledge.

When exhausted Europe has laid down her arms and
is forced to ask herself what she ought to do in order to
provide for the future, will she not find herself face to face
with the eternal question which confronts man at the end
of every path which he takes in search of happiness — the
question of limits? If after the European War the differ-
ent Powers begin once more to increase their armies and
fleets just as they did from 1870 to 19 14, we shall sooner
or later find ourselves back at the same point. Europe,
drained as she has been of her life blood, can only hope to
recover her strength if the belligerent Powers come to a
serious understanding as to the limitation of armaments —
a condition easy to propose, but extremely difficult to carry
into effect, since there is nothing from which the modern

234 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

world shrinks so much as the suggestion of any sort of
limitation — no matter what the motive. I have already
remarked that St. Thomas Aquinas asserts and proves war
to be a sin in itself, that is to say, an evil, but adds that
it may become permissible on three conditions : i. e., that
it be waged by lawful authority in a just cause and without
evil intention. The subtle teacher of the Middle Ages had
foreseen wars waged in a just cause but with evil intention.
Who can fail to see that this view of war is the one ap-
pealing most strongly to all those who have not interested
motives for desiring the continuance of the war or are not
totally devoid of that sense of humanity which German
philosophy has done so much to blunt even in ourselves?
Who can fail to see that to ensure Europe a true and last-
ing peace all that is necessary is that these principles should
be put into practice ? Yet in the nineteenth century you will
find few thinkers who ventured to uphold such teaching
boldly without being somewhat ashamed of what was re-
garded as an old woman's idea! How is this strange dis-
crepancy to be explained? Only by the fact that almost
all modern systems of philosophy have started from them-
selves and have refused to submit their investigations to any
of the limits respected more or less voluntarily by the sys-
tems of antiquity, or even to those imposed by common
sense or the sense of humanity, which shrink from every
doctrine and every principle which is opposed to the most ob-
vious requirements of human nature. These various sys-
tems of philosophy, thus emancipated from the bands of
discipline and surrounded by so many different passions and
interests, held the sound common sense of St. Thomas
Aquinas in utter contempt and, reversing each other's argu-
ments, proved war to be either divine or diabolical, those
taking the former view maintaining that to carry off the

THE GREAT CONTRADICTION 235

victory in war is to give evidence of the highest degree
of perfection; while their opponents asserted with equal
conviction that war was utterly degrading and should never
be resorted to by civilized peoples even to repel aggression !
If it was diffcult to induce our age to accept reasonable
theories as to war and its limits, is it likely to be easy to
induce it to act reasonably? Yet who can doubt that
modern civilization will end by destroying itself with its
own hands if it does not learn to use its terrible powers
with more judgment? Our descendants will perhaps say
that our century played with machine- and quick-firing guns,
shells and millions of soldiers like a child with a box of
matches without realizing how terrible its toys would be
when put to real use: the century must grow up and learn
to handle such engines of warfare with the prudence de-
manded by their dangerous character. We must pray the
shades of our fathers to let their wisdom, which we have
too long neglected, help Europe out of the difficult pass to
which her pride and foolhardiness have brought her. We
must above all invoke the shades of those great writers of
the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries who taught man
that there might and should be such a thing as national
as well as individual justice — a sentiment which, like so
many of those newer conceptions which dignify our age
' — had its birth in eighteenth century France. It found a
refuge in hearts and books and thus survived the devastating
wars of the end of the eighteenth and the beginning of the
nineteenth century. Gradually, during the long period
of hopes and regrets which followed the fall of the first
Empire, it ventured out of its hiding places and spread
secretly over Europe under the suspicious eyes of the police,
winning thousands of hearts and intellects, until the memor-
able year 1848, when it seemed to establish its sway over

236 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

all Europe in a few brief weeks and to become the ruler
of a new and happier world. Disillusion swiftly followed,
however! How distant was its triumph still! The politi-
cal and economic upheavals of the second half of the nine-
teenth century, the era of steel and steam, the blatant
triumph of quantity, the clash of classes and interests, the
advent of the middle classes, were all still to come. This
great conception was no longer the object of police perse-
cution, but rather that of ridicule and contempt. The at-
tempt was made to isolate it by closing every door to it;
it was banished from school and parliament alike. In every
country more or less successful efforts were made to provoke
admiration of Bismarck in the hope that the mere sight
of his bull-dog countenance would chill the souls in whom
the new ideas had lighted the fire of enthusiasm. The ef-
forts to win the minds of men made by the new conception
were met by governments and political parties with an ever
increasing production of new weapons, with the appoint-
ment of philosophers and philosophasters to burnish up in
press and university alike old theories, such as Hegelianism,
which might be turned to account as antidotes. It was ac-
cused of being half Catholic, half Protestant; Catholic, be-
cause it aspired to be transcendent and eternal; Protestant,
because it claimed to be the offspring of reason : as if a con-
ception could forfeit the right to act as a guide to truth or be-
come an imposture merely because it is able to give an ac-
count of itself and justify its laws. In spite of all these
criticisms, however, the conception did not perish, simply be-
cause it was a true conception springing from the very depths
of the soul of man, and it may yet save Europe from ruin,
because it knows how to set limits to the pride, the ambition
and the passion for power of the different peoples. We
must therefore bring about a revival of this principle in the

JHE GREAT CONTRADICTION 237

soul of man and call in the aid of reason in order to give
definite form to its precepts; we must let it exercise
dominion in Europe over the masses who are looking on in
horror at the present catastrophe — those masses whom the
age of quality has made arbiters of almost everything and
more especially of peace and war.

V

BACCHUS IN BONDS

It is given to none of us to be able to foretell what the
future holds in store. We may, however, before con-
cluding these pages, turn our attention for a moment to an
indication which time has already made plain — a sign per-
haps slight in itself but which may encourage us to hope
that the conscience of Europe is really progressing, not
with halting and uncertain steps as in so many other direc-
tions on which we none the less prided ourselves — but
making real advances, thanks to the revival of old principles,
in the midst of the powerful but outrageous disorder of the
modern world.

The ancients numbered wine among the gods, because
they regarded as divine a drink which, taken in moderation,
soothed pain, stimulated the imagination, promoted cheer-
fulness and stirred the mind; but during the last century
the ancient deity has appeared upon earth in so many and
different forms as to forfeit his status as god and sink to
that of a demon, begetting madness, crime, sterility, pov-
erty and death instead of joy and gladness, as of old.
We all know the disastrous results all over the world of
this disease, to which the medical profession has given
the name alcoholism, but in Russia and France two of

23S 'EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

its worst forms — vodka and absinthe — had wrought more
havoc than anywhere else. It is therefore not surprising
that in these countries special efforts should have been made
to stay the plague. Statesmen, scientists, philanthropists,
priests, moralists, industrial magnates, schoolmasters and
estimable women all had some panacea to offer. Countless
commissions were appointed, countless societies founded,
countless laws promulgated during the last twenty five
years to cope with the evil and convert men to sobriety,
while of the making of books with the same object there
was no end. But in spite of all the efforts of these many
physicians, the evil steadily increased in every country and
more especially in Russia and France. The remedy was
apparently not to be found. Church and school were alike
impotent. The workman listened to the good advice given
him and then betook himself to the nearest public-house
for another glass. Many of the would-be physicians came
to the conclusion that man is naturally vicious and that it
is useless to try to prevent him from going to perdition
in the quest of pleasure. Some even sought excuses for
the vice. Was it really so fatal as was supposed? Was
there anything else which could do as much to lighten the
burden of the toiler in modern industry? Every man
tries at times to escape as best he can in imagination from
the fetters which hold him captive in the world into the
'unbounded freedom of infinity, and the glass of wine or
spirits may serve as the gateway into the infinite for the
workman who knows no other means of escape.

Accordingly Europe indulged freely in strong drink,
although many thoughtful people who did not share the
illusions of the optimist felt their hearts sink as they watched
noble peoples thus degrading themselves. And there seemed
no hope of finding a remedy. Then the European War

THE GREAT CONTRADICTION 239

broke out and the authorities, realizing that if drunkenness
be a dangerous vice in time of peace, it is far more so in
time of war, when both those who fight and those who
remain at home must make the best possible use of their
mental powers for the common weal, decided on a drastic
measure — a remedy so heroic that no one had ventured
to suggest it seriously before — the prohibition of the man-
ufacture and consumption of the most harmful beverages.
The egg of Columbus with a vengeance! When the work-
man and the peasant can no longer turn into the nearest
public-house for a glass of some pernicious drink, they
will cease to get drunk, or at all events will do so much less
often. No sooner said than done : half measures are not
for wartime. On the day after the proclamation of mar-
tial law, the military authorities in France prohibited the
sale of absinthe, and when Parliament met it lost no time
in passing a bill prohibiting for ever the manufacture,
sale and import of absinthe. A few weeks after the out-
break of war, the Tsar closed all distilleries and places
where vodka was made or sold, vodka being in Russia a
state monopoly. And while it cannot of course be said
that no vodka or absinthe is consumed in Russia and France
— since evasion of the law will continue as long as the
world exists — temperance has steadily increased and the
evil effects of drink have equally steadily decreased.

Why were so many years and a cataclysm like the
European War necessary for the discovery and application
of the remedy? — the only efficacious way of keeping the
intemperance of the people in check. If the men of two
or three centuries ago were in certain respects much worse
off than ourselves, they were undoubtedly also much more
temperate, simply because they did not distil so many kinds
of spirits every year, they did not press so many tons of

240 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

grapes, so that no one person could drink more than a
moderate amount. A few wealthy drinkers might possibly
ruin their health, but such a proceeding was not in the power
of the poor and those of moderate means. Why have men
taken to drink to such an alarming extent during the last
century, a period which coincides with the dawn of the
era of quantity? Because the nineteenth century planted
vines in thousands of acres of hitherto uncultivated land,
even upon land snatched from Islam, even on land beyond
the ocean; because it enlarged and added immensely to the
number of breweries; because it invented countless new and
ingenious ways of distilling alcohol from endless different
substances; because it manufactured in great distilleries all
over the world liquors of which only a few bottles had
hitherto been made annually by private families after some
traditional receipt. Then when it had distilled so many
intoxicating drinks, modern industry had to find some
means of ensuring their consumption. It is useless to say
that all these intoxicating liquors are made to satisfy the
demands of a thirsty world, that vice is the cause and not
the effect of the immense increase in the wine, beer and
liquor trades. No — here, as elsewhere — industry first
created abundance and then persuaded man that it was his
duty to consume its whole production.

It is therefore clear that as long as Industry is free to
distil as much intoxicating liquor as it chooses, just as it
is at liberty to weave as many yards of linen or cloth as
it likes, alcoholism will increase in the world. The trade
will be driven to manufacture such drinks in ever increasing
quantities and the world will have to swallow veritable
floods of beer, wine and spirits every year. The brewery
and the public-house will encourage men to drink more
than they need both night and morning, Sunday and week-

THE GREAT CONTRADICTION 241

day, for man is naturally inclined to excess in his pleasures,
and, if you make vice easy for him, he will not fail to take
advantage thereof. Our age first gives men full liberty
to drink to excess, and then is amazed that they do so, just
in the same way as having created the vastest armies history
has ever seen, and provided them with the most murderous
weapons, it fails to understand how the vastest and most
bloody war of all ages can possibly have broken out. The
cause of its surprise is the same in both cases. Our age
has created the greatest armies of all time not because it
intended to bring about its own ruin in a world war, but
because no power, or mortal power, or authority existed
in Europe strong enough to set a limit to the competition
of armaments. It left vice full liberty, not from perversity
or corruption, but because in its anxiety to further industry
and commerce, it shrank from setting any limit — even that
demanded by health, morals and beauty — to the increase
of wealth; it furthered productive industries and at the
same time encouraged men to consume as much as they
could, to eat, drink, smoke, amuse themselves, wear out
and renew their clothing, travel, and seek for the greatest
available measure of comfort. But in order to achieve all
this it had to abolish the standards which in past ages
distinguished wise expenditure from extravagance, and the
undue growth of desire, since, had these criteria been as
clear and definite as they were two centuries ago, they would
have set limits to this liberty of expansion of which modern
industries are so jealous ; and in the same way it has failed
to distinguish between the services rendered by science and
industry to peace and those rendered to war.

The European War put an immediate end to this contra-
diction so far as drink was concerned. It has already
brought certain of the European peoples back to the prin-

242 EUROPE'S FATEFUL HOUR

ciples which ruled the world two or three centuries ago. In
the face of immediate danger all have had to realize that
the State has both the right to prevent the people committing
suicide by excessive drinking and is bound to exercise that
right; that the welfare of the race and the interests of
public morals must and should set a limit to the full liberty
of indulging in pleasure to excess which individuals had
claimed as a right for the last century. Will Europe under-
stand equally quickly that war ought not to be — as it is
in Europe today — the savage explosion of all the forces
of destruction and sacrifice, love and hatred, good and evil
accumulated by human nature in the course of a generation,
until the whole physical and moral strength of a nation is
exhausted — something like a natural force, subject to no
law? Will it understand that war should be a human
institution like justice, a sign and symbol of the strength of
a people, as true and adequate as possible to what they
represent, but limited, if it is not to become a scourge of
God and a means of exterminating victors, vanquished and
neutrals alike?

The future will show. The obscure, powerful will of the
masses who are today engaged in this titanic war will
decide. The essential thing today is an act of will — a
great act of will on the part of the masses. During the
last two centuries man has inverted the order of things in
which his fathers lived so long; he has begun that new and
marvellous history of the world, whose final crisis is taking
place today, because he has determined to have liberty,
wealth, power and knowledge. Our children and grand-
children will enjoy peace if they really desire it, by en-
deavouring to realize in what the essential conditions of a
real and lasting peace consist. At this moment when so
many men are in arms keeping a watch on one another with

THE GREAT CONTRADICTION MS

field glasses and cannon, by land and water, it is well to
repeat to the soldiers of the new alliance — this time a Holy
Alliance in very truth — the soldiers of the Powers which
have had to endure this war, because the Central Empires
forced it upon them, the memorable words of St. Augustine,
words worthy of being taken as the motto of the newer and
better Europe for which we all hope, for which so many
have already given their lives: " Esto ergo bellando
pacificus, ut cos qiios expugnas, ad pacts utilitatem vincendo
pcrducas."

THB END

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