Here are some remarkable views of this umpire, however, upon which it may be worth while to comment. Referring to the respondent government, he remarks: "It cannot be charged with responsibility for the conditions which existed in 1899, prostrating business, paralyzing trade and commerce, and annihilating the products of agriculture; nor for the exhaustion and paralysis which followed; nor for its inability to pay its just debts; nor for the inability of the company to obtain money otherwise and elsewhere. All these are misfortunes incident to government, to business, and to human life. They do not beget claims for damages.'

What sort of an umpire is he who decides that a government is not responsible for its inability to pay its just debts, or for the acts of spoliation and outrage committed by it? This is most extraordinary doctrine, and I doubt if any reputable jurist could be found to sign his name to it, although it must be admitted that there are some wonderful decisions handed down in the name of the law. Does not Mr. Plumley know, does not every man of common sense know, that if the company were prevented by the illegal acts of the Venezuelan government from obtaining money, Venezuela ought in equity to be held liable for the damages growing out of such illegal acts? All the evidence in this case shows that the French Company of Venezuelan Railroads would have had ample capital with which to conduct its business, had not its business been molested, its property confiscated and destroyed, by the governments (old and new) of Venezuela. Will equity force a company to supply unlimited funds with which to operate an enterprise for the sole and exclusive benefit of a bandit aggregation like the Venezuelan government, which has never paid for any of the services rendered to it, but has added despoliation to extortion?

Umpire Plumley continues thus: "The claimant company was compelled by force majeure to desist from its exploitation in 1899; the respondent government from the same cause had been prevented from paying its indebtedness to the claimant company. The umpire finds no purpose or intent on the part of the respondent government to harm or injure the claimant company in any way or in any degree. Its acts and its neglects were caused and incited by entirely different reasons and motives. Its first duty was to itself. Its own preservation was paramount. Its revenues were properly devoted to that end. The appeal of the company for funds came to an empty treasury or to one only adequate to the demands of the war budget. When the respondent government used, even exclusively, the railroad and the steamboats, it was not outside its contractual right, nor beyond its privilege and the company's duty, had there been no contract. When traffic ceased through the confusion and havoc of war or because there were none to ride and no products to be transported, it was a dire calamity to the country and to all its people; but it was a part of the assumed risks of the company when it entered upon its exploitation."

What insufferable balderdash this is! If the company was compelled by force majeure to desist from its exploitation in 1899, as stated by Plumley, every one knows and the evidence shows that it was wholly blameless in this respect, and that this force majeure was nothing more or less than the criminal acts of the government of Venezuela, which not only violated its own contracts in every part and particular, but also prevented the company from exercising those rights of user and enjoyment of its own property which it possessed at common law independently of its contract with the government. Mr. Plumley would have us infer that the respondent government was prevented from paying its just debts to the claimant by force majeure, such as put the company out of business in October, 1899. But it was not so. Had this inability on the part of the Venezuelan government been caused by the criminal act of the railway company, then the cases would have been parallel, but in fact what prevented the government of Venezuela from paying its debts was not force majeure at all; it was the anarchistic condition of Venezuela, created by its own criminal conduct. It is absurd to contend that these two situations belong on the same plane. As for the assumption that "when the respondent government used, even exclusively, the railroad and the steamboats, it was not outside its contractual right, nor beyond its privilege and the company's duty, had there been no contract," it is based neither on reason, law, equity, nor common sense. It may be assumed that the respondent government under the circumstances might have rightfully used this property, had it made proper payments for such use, and saved the company harmless from all damages occasioned thereby. But to concede that Venezuela had any rights, contractual or otherwise, to seize this property and devote it to its own use without making a just payment for it, is not equity.

It is not worth while to waste more time or space in discussing this most unrighteous judgment. It gives to innocent and defenceless stockholders and bondholders about $75,000, to be paid some time in the distant future, when Castro gets good and ready to pay it, for property in which they invested in good faith, performing each and every stipulation in their agreements, more than $3,000,000. Venezuela repudiates each and every one of its obligations, and it escapes all responsibility, save for this miserable sum which will probably no more than pay the attorneys' fees of the defunct railway company.

In this case there are ample grounds upon which the French government may well demand a re-submission to a worthy tribunal. May The Hague Court of Arbitration never disgrace itself after the manner of so many of the mixed commissions!

It is time it has long been high time that the Great American People realize the enormity of the crimes and outrages (robbery and murder in their train) committed against civilized men in the barbarous dictatorships of Latin America.

CHAPTER XXV

INTERNATIONAL ARBITRATION, ITS POSSIBILITIES

IN

AND LIMITATIONS

N recent years international arbitration has assumed an important position in public discussion. It seems probable that the great civilized powers will from now on submit to tribunals international in character many questions such as have heretofore been adjusted diplomatically or threshed out by war.

It seems appropriate in this connection to consider the possibilities and limitations of international arbitration, and particularly to inquire if we may anticipate that any advancement of civilization in Latin America, any betterment in conditions there, will follow the adoption of this method for the settlement of controversies between nations.

There is a wide-spread belief that arbitration is the sovereign panacea for nearly all our international differences, and humanitarians of noble intellects and pure hearts have dreamed of the abolishment of war and the arrival of the millennium.

The writer cannot think of the regeneration of humanity as a consummation so easily attained.

There have been wars and rumors of wars from the beginning of time, and it is to be feared that they will run their course until the end. Civilization, such as it is, has come up painfully through unnumbered wars, through bloodshed, crime, injustice, and outrage. This is a world of strife, of struggle, of "dog eat dog." Life is impossible without the causing of pain and death. The vegetarian wishes to avoid the destruction of life, yet even as he walks he tramples the insects underfoot, and every ploughshare that upturns the earth in the cultivation of the fruits, grains, or garden products which he must consume for sustenance puts an end to thousands of living things. The human race cannot exist without the continuous destruction of the lives of animals, birds, fish, and insects; and these creatures in their turn prey upon others.

The peace advocate confronts as serious a state of facts as does the vegetarian. Let a man be weak or timid, and his fellow-men, even the most pious of them, ride over him roughshod or look upon him with contempt. So it is with nations. A powerful and resolute exec

utive insures peace to his country, for he holds his army and navy up to the highest point of efficiency, but the policy of a long-suffering, over-pacific ruler invites irretrievable disaster to the State. His excessive gentleness breeds disdain in others; he becomes an easy mark for aggression. William of Germany would put up a very interesting fight upon very slight provocation; ergo, let us treat William with becoming politeness.

The history and present status of China afford an object lesson of deep importance in this regard to statesmen and political thinkers. The foreign policy of the empire for thousands of years has been pacific. Its people have been taught, by the doctrines of Confucius and otherwise, that war is a horror to be avoided at all hazards. The empire therefore has never made any adequate military preparations, and the citizens have been wholly untrained in the bearing of arms. The results of this long-continued policy, which humanitarians would regard as benevolent, have been twofold:

1st. The moral as well as the physical fibres of the nation have become flaccid, devoid of strength or tenacity, weak, irresolute, and yielding. The will, the essence of the soul, in the Chinese nation, and citizenship, has become atropied under this long reign of peace, and there is no daring, no imagination in the people, and no will power to put into execution anything demanding high resolve.

2d. Insult to the nation at large and dismemberment of its empire have followed logically. Its neighbor, Japan, small in area and population relatively, but powerful in virtue of its military instinct, is able to dominate and control China with the same ease which a driver exercises on a mild-eyed ox. This marked ability of the Japanese in matters military extends to every function and vocation of life. We therefore reach the strange conclusion that prolonged peace not alone. causes deterioration of those intellectual and physical powers of the people which are essential to success in arms, but that it actually defeats its own purpose by rendering a people less capable of defending themselves, and therefore more liable to attack from the outside.

Occasionally the demon of war takes possession of and dominates a nation. The question of justice or injustice enters into this phenomenon much less than one might suppose. A nation will endure with perfect equanimity a provocation which, occurring at some other time, would plunge it into instant war. As individuals have varying moods, so have nations. Let a deeper thinker than I ferret out the philosophy of this strange but indubitable fact.

When the antecedent period of fierce obsession comes on, statesmen must use rare tact. It is dangerous to trifle with a nation in such a mood. If at such a period some substantial insult or wrong be inflicted upon it, a thousand channels of arbitration would not suffice to vent the tide of popular indignation. Then do the people into their own hands take affairs, and governments become but chaff to be blown

about by the winds. Arbitration tribunals may decide routine matters, but when the engulfing cataclysm of a nation's passion falls, it means

war.

I. WAR IS NOT ALWAYS AN UNMITIGATED CURSE

All wars are not unmitigated evils. An unjust war is a curse. A righteous war may be a blessing to the world. War forms the supreme test of the civil institutions of a nation. Before the brute force of its dread onslaught, sham, humbug, and incompetency cringe limp and powerless. War calls forth marvellous energy, ingenuity, foresight, keenness of mind, daring, resourcefulness, and strength. It gives an impetus to inventive skill and production. It constrains industrial development, under pain of defeat or extinction.

There are many ills which follow in the wake of war, — murder, rapine, cruelty, hatred, and, at the end, at least a generation of corruption and immorality.

This diabolical clash of contending forces has sometimes destroyed civilization, at other times checked it, and has at yet other times actually made for its advance. The revolution against England was the greatest possible blessing to the United States, to England, and to the world. Japan's defeat of Russia may result in the civilization and upbuilding of the huge Empire of the White Tsar. The wars of Latin America have, as a rule, left affairs worse than before. They have throttled improvement; they have stifled civilization in the embryo.

It is curious to reflect what might have been the development and present status of the world if international arbitration had been substituted for a recourse to the sword during the period covered by the Christian era. Would the nations have been better off? Would they have been as far advanced as they now are? The philosopher may well hesitate to answer these questions in the affirmative. The American Revolution taught England the cardinal principles of colonial government, and to-day she is the mightiest power that the world has ever known. Had there been no Revolution, would England have learned this drastic lesson so that later she could successfully rule mighty empires? Would the United States itself have attained a fraction of its present pre-eminence had it remained a colony? That Revolution brought higher ideals for English-speaking men in whatever country they may live, and, indeed, to men in all nations. It cannot be believed that the findings of an international arbitration tribunal would have had a similar effect.

The facts are that the revolution against England was not only illegal, but the complaints of the colonists would scarcely receive a second's consideration to-day. More wrongs against innocent men are perpetrated under our own government, in the one City of New