prophets that
he wrote _The War God_ (1912). This play, with all its faults as an
acting drama, is nevertheless a remarkable document, voicing, as it
does, on the very eve of the breaking down of European civilization,
the old prophetic protest against the brutality and waste of war.

This protest dates back to at least the ninth century B.C. It may not
be generally known that it was a Hebrew prophet who first advocated
the humane treatment of prisoners of war. The story is told in the
Second Book of Kings that when a band of marauding Syrians were
corralled in Samaria, the "king of Israel said unto Elisha, when he
saw them, 'My father, shall I smite them? Shall I smite them?' And he
answered, 'Thou shalt not smite them: wouldst thou smite those whom
thou has taken captive with thy sword and with thy bow? Set bread and
water before them, that they may eat and drink, and go to their
master.' And he prepared great provision for them: and when they had
eaten and drunk, he sent them away, and they went to their master. So
the bands of Syria came no more into the land of Israel" (2 Kings
6:1-23). Again, Amos, in the eighth century, in his arraignment of the
sins of the nations, pronounces God's severest judgments upon
Damascus, Edom, Ammon, and Moab for their cruelty in war. The charge
against Edom, for example, is that "he did pursue his brother with the
sword, and did cast off all pity, and his anger did tear perpetually,
and he kept his wrath forever." And the later prophets' visions of the
Messianic age include as the brightest feature of that wished-for time
the prediction that then "the nations shall not learn war any more."

Of such a spirit Mr. Zangwill's play _The War God_ is an expression.
It is a satire upon militarism, but a satire without exaggeration. The
arguments employed to justify the maintenance of a huge army and navy
are not a whit more absurd than the fallacies which have been put
forth for a generation by those who would justify the maintenance of
armaments. These so-called arguments are presented by "the Chancellor"
who represents Bismarck, and by the king of Gothia, in whom we may
easily recognize the Russian Czar. "Dominance," roars the
Chancellor,--

"There rings the password of the universe.
Who knows it, he is free of every camp.
Equality, your level, endless cornfield,
However fat and fair and golden-stalked,
Would set us pining for the snow-topped pea