desires, than might at first be supposed. Indeed, I would venture to maintain, that no great change has ever been produced in the world by motives of self-interest. Sentiment, that thing which many wise people affect to despise, is the commanding thing as regards popular impulses and popular action.

You must own that I have been very fair as regards what I have said about artisans. I have indicated by this story of the heraldic painter, that I am perfectly aware that a political opinion will thoroughly overcome the interest of this class, and may determine them for war; but I am sure that their interests point to peace; and, as they become more and more instructed, and less and less amenable to political passion or prejudice, they will become earnest favourers of peace. I rely much upon them now: and I look forward to still greater and surer support from them hereafter.

Now, with respect to the higher classes, let us look at the motives by which they are likely to be actuated; and let us see who, amongst them, are likely to be favourers of war, and who, on the contrary, are likely to view war with eminent disfavour.

Let us begin with the learned professions. The clergy protest, officially as it were, but at the same time very sincerely, against the horrors and cruelties of war; but they do not, and probably they cannot, do much as a body to prevent it. Observe how little head the clergy in France have made against the perpetration of this present war. I am not disposed to blame them overmuch. I am quite sure that as a body they are favourers of peace; but it is evident that they have either very little power to prevent war, or their peace-loving desires are overbalanced by political considerations having reference to the state of their Church.

I come now to the lawyers. To them war is not useful; for after all they thrive with the general thriving of the community in which they live. But, on the other hand, war is not specially injurious to them. Their dealings are with the richer classes, who are the latest to be pinched by the dire calamities of war. A small tradesman suffers far more from war than a great lawyer does; but, again, his sufferings, as regards his interests, are not by any means so acute and pressing as those of the artisan. By the way, of course I except those artisans who are employed in manufacturing the munitions of war. Their number, however, when compared with the rest of the artisans, is insignificant.

I come now to the doctors. I contend that their interest does not affect them much either way. They are already so generous to the poor (I love the doctors) that they do not suffer much, pecuniarily speaking, when the poor become a little poorer. The doctors, as the lawyers, live upon the richer classes. They (the doctors) pro

bably appreciate the sufferings caused by war-the physical sufferings-more accurately, and with more feeling, than any other persons do. I am therefore disposed to reckon them on my side; that is, on the side of those who detest and abhor war; and who would do everything in their power to prevent it throughout the world. But these doctors and surgeons-for of course I include surgeons —are but a small body, and a scattered body. The want of power to act in combination, is a thing very clearly to be perceived as regards the medical profession. They can hardly fight their own battles, set aside the battles of other people. They have always been neglected by the State.

I now come to science, art, and literature. I must thank you for your kindness in listening to me so patiently. I am making a speech to you, as it were, and a peripatetic speech peripatetic speech [Mr. Milverton was walking up and down the room]; and I wish you to hear all that I have to say, without interrupting me, reserving your protests until I have finished.

I believe that I, and the people who think with me in this matter, have ardent supporters amongst the learned, the artistic, and the scientific; and, what is more, I venture to say that a similar statement may be made as regards the feelings of these classes throughout all ages. I asked Theodore Martin, who has written an admirable life of Horace (a life which shows to us not only the nature and domestic doings of Horace but the aspect of the Roman world in which he lived), whether Horace was really a man of peace; and Martin referred me to that ode in which Horace, addressing Augustus, who brings back with him peace to Rome, beautifully enunciates the blessings of peace. (You must not ill-naturedly remember those words of Horace's, relictâ non bene parmulâ, for Horace was no coward):

"Tutus bos etenim rura perambulat:

Nutrit rura Ceres, almaque Faustitas:
Pacatum volitant per mare navitæ :
Culpari metuit Fides."

This is how Martin translates it:

"For safe the herds range field and fen,
Full-headed stand the shocks of grain,
Our sailors sweep the peaceful main,
And man can trust his fellow-men."

And then there is this charming stanza:

"Now each man, basking on his slopes,
Weds to his widow'd trees the vine,
Then, as he gaily quaffs his wine,
Salutes thee, God of all his hopes."

I should weary you, if I were to show you how, from the earliest

times, the greatest men in science, literature, and art have protested against needless warfare. You may say that it has been for their interest to make this protest: science, literature, and art droop their heads when war uprears her gory figure. But the men of science, literature, and art, are the most disinterested of mankind; otherwise they would hardly have devoted themselves to science, literature, and art. They feel for mankind. But, again, they are a scattered people, and have not much direct influence with statesmen and electors. Let us pass them by.

I come now to the only class which can, and does, act somewhat as a consistent and concentrated body-the civil service. Now, the words "civil service" I mean to use in a most extended sense. Probably some of you may hereafter find broader words to include all the persons whom I mean to include in this phrase. I do not mean merely the civil servants attached to Government, but all those who have to direct and manage the civil affairs of this world-the great leaders of commerce, the directors of railways, the heads of great manufacturing firms, municipal corporations, together with all those major or minor persons to whose guidance and governance is given the material and mental progress of the civilization of the world.

Let me beg of you to notice how this class grows and increases, pari passu, with the increasing civilization of the world. Attila and his Huns were all of them, naturally, for war. An English baron and his retainers, some hundreds of years ago, were all of them, naturally, for war. But now there have grown up numerous and potential classes whose interests are not at all for war; and, if some foolish sentiment on their part is not enlisted in favour of war, or if a nobler sentiment prevails, overcoming the nonsense of glory and territorial acquisition, these classes would always be against war.

I now come to that part of my discourse (for I fear it is something like a discourse) in which I should desire my friend Machiavelli, were he in the land of the living, to come to my aid. For the moment, let us confine the words "civil service" to that class to which those words are commonly applied. I would like, however, to include members of Parliament, who are now (considering the details of government with which they deal) practically members of the civil service.

This great body, as a body, is profoundly inimical to war. Their interests, their sentiments, their habits, are thoroughly unwarlike. Moreover, what are called the baser motives move in this same direction. The present war has given civil servants throughout the world a great deal of trouble. I have no doubt it would have given Sir Arthur and Cranmer a good deal of trouble, if they had been in office at this time. Then, again, the civil servants are not so very fond of

seeing men with cocks'-feathers in their shakos, reaping all the honours and rewards of the public service. Again-and this is a great subtlety—the whole tenor of their lives is adverse to the predominance of physical force. Now comes in my good Machiavelli. He would, I believe, say: If you wish war to be abstained from, further, and favour, and give power to this official class; so you will have a concentrated body close to the inmost springs of government, and very often moving these springs most effectually, who, by every motive that can actuate mankind, are profoundly adverse to war.

Lastly, I would ask you, can there be anything more unfortunate for the peace of the world than the military and civil services being confounded together? At this moment, is it not a thing to be greatly regretted that a prime minister is at the same time a major in a regiment of cavalry?

Before I conclude, I must dispose of an objection which is, otherwise, sure to be made. It is that the pressure of war, whether actual or impending, is very different according to the different circumstances of the nations engaged, or likely to be engaged, in war. For instance, the pressure of war in a country that is not likely to be invaded, is very different from that in a country which is likely to bear the brunt of the war within its own boundaries. This difference will, of course, very greatly affect the disposition to hinder or promote war of the different classes and persons whose motives I have been considering. Again, an example of the effect of this difference of circumstance, I may refer to what I have said about the lawyers. I said that their interests were, comparatively speaking, very little touched by war. Indeed, litigation, which is a kind of warfare, and not the least formidable kind, may even be promoted by a state of war. Nevertheless, when a country comes to be largely invaded, and its principal cities besieged, law becomes as silent as literature.

It would be almost impossible to exhaust the combinations of circumstances which would tend to vary the conclusions I have put forth as to the proneness to, or aversion from war, in different classes of the community. The utmost that can be done (which, however, it is very desirable should be done), is, to form some general conclusions, and then to see how the motives I have adduced as affecting different classes, will be weakened or intensified by the peculiar circumstances of each case.

I have finished, and I pause for a reply.

[There was silence for a minute or two, and then Sir John Ellesmere replied.]

Ellesmere. I am not going to cavil at Milverton's speech. In order to reply to it, if I meant to reply, I should first have to make

use of Sandy's short-hand powers, and to request him to write out in a fair and legible hand Milverton's twenty minutes' speech; but there are some points of detail, respecting which I humbly ask for further facts, and more express details. Now one thing occurs to me as a matter requiring fuller explanation. I had thought that it had been generally allowed that times of discord and war had produced great men in all branches of human effort; and, therefore, that literary, artistic, and scientific personages were not called upon to protest so loudly against war as Milverton supposes.

Milverton. This is a common delusion. I have fought against it before, and I am ready to combat it now. I appeal to great historians, as to whether it is not true, as I maintain, that the greater progress in art, literature, and science has uniformly been made during the few periods of profound peace which this much-tormented world has hitherto enjoyed. Look what has been done in the thirty years following the battle of Waterloo.

Sir Arthur. In science, yes; in literature, yes; in art, I doubt. Milverton. Well, I do not pretend to have any masterful knowledge of this latter subject. My impression is strong, very strong, that I am right; but we will ask some one who does know. We will appeal to our friend Ruskin. If he decides against me, I will bow to his decision. But about literature and science, I am firm as suppose that Homer wrote while the siege of Do you not admit that Virgil wrote the Æneid. in times of peace ? Do you not see that our own great writers wrote, if not in times of actual peace, in times when war did not really come near our shores ?

the Fates. Do you Troy was going on?

I believe in the inevitable nature of things.

Ellesmere. Of course you do, of course we all do; that is merely one of your fine phrases.

Milverton. Well then, what I mean is, that I believe that men are always governed by the same motives, and prepossessed by the same ideas. I suppose you will admit that the arts of peace are preferable to the arts of war?

Ellesmere. Yes; but that has nothing to do with the subject. Milverton. Can these two branches of art flourish together at the same time?

Ellesmere. I don't know; that is the question at issue.

Milverton. Do you find, Mister Objector-general, that you can be absorbed by two different pursuits at the same time? Now I will come to a maxim of political economy which has been equally true in all ages—namely, "that the supply is regulated by the demand." You must know, too, that the thinking power of mankind is not unlimited. When warlike thought is demanded, it will be supplied to