ation is the conviction of the mass of the
individuals thereof, and each individual has therefore a personal
responsibility for the opinion he holds on a question of great
national, or international, moment. Let us look, each of us,--and
especially each of us who fears God,--into his own inner heart, and
ask himself how far, in his personal life, he is prepared to accept
arbitration. Is it not so that the reply must be, "In doubtful
questions of moment, wherever I possibly can, knowing my necessary,
inevitable proneness to one-sided views, I will seek an impartial
adviser, that my bias may be corrected; but when that has been done,
when I have sought what aid I can, if conscience still commands, it I
must obey. From that duty, burdensome though it may be, no man can
relieve me. Conscience, diligently consulted, is to the man the voice
of God; between God and the man no other arbiter comes." And if this
be so, a pledge beforehand is impossible. I cannot bind myself for a
future of which I as yet know nothing, to abide by the decision of
any other judge than my own conscience. Much humor--less wit--has been
expended upon the Emperor of Germany's supposed carefulness to reject
arbitration because an infringement of his divine rights; a phrase
which may well be no more than a blunt expression of the sense that no
third party can relieve a man from the obligations of the position to
which he is called by God, and that for the duties of that position
the man can confidently expect divine guidance and help. Be that as it
may, the divine right of conscience will, among Americans, receive
rare challenge.

It has been urged, however, that a higher organization of the nations,
the provision of a supreme tribunal issuing and enforcing judgments,
settling thereby quarrels and disputed rights, would produce for the
nations of the earth a condition analogous to that of the individual
citizen of the state, who no longer defends his own cause, nor is
bound in conscience to maintain his own sense of right, when the law
decides against him. The conception is not novel, not even modern;
something much like it was put forth centuries ago by the Papacy
concerning its own functions. It contains two fallacies. First, the
submission of the individual citizen is to force, to the constitution
of which he personally contributes little, save his individual and
general assent. To an unjust law he submits under protest, doubtless
often silent; but h