was almost their
sole occupation. Peace existed only for short periods that tribes might
regain strength to resume the sacred duty of killing each other.

Advancement in civilization was impossible while war reigned. Only as
wars became less frequent and long intervals of peace supervened could
civilization, the mother of true heroism, take root. Civilization has
advanced just as war has receded, until in our day peace has become the
rule and war the exception.

Arbitration of international disputes grows more and more in favor.
Successive generations of men now live and die without seeing war; and
instead of the army and navy furnishing the only careers worthy of
gentlemen, it is with difficulty that civilized nations can to-day
obtain a sufficient supply of either officers or men.

In the past, man's only method for removing obstacles and attaining
desired ends was to use brute courage. The advance of civilization has
developed moral courage. We use more beneficent means than men did of
old. Britain in the eighteenth century used force to prevent American
independence. In more recent times she graciously grants Canada the
rights denied America.

The United States also receives an award of the powers against China,
and, finding it in excess of her expenditures, in the spirit of newer
time, returns ten million dollars. Won by this act of justice, China
devotes the sum to the education of Chinese students in the republic's
universities. The greatest force is no longer that of brutal war, but
the supreme force of gentlemen and generosity--the golden rule.

The pen is rapidly superseding the sword. Arbitration is banishing war.
More than five hundred international disputes have already been
peacefully settled. Civilization, not barbarism, is the mother of true
heroism. Our lately departed poet and disciple of peace, Richard Watson
Gilder, has left us the answer to the false idea that brute force
employed against our fellows ranks with heroic moral courage exerted to
save or serve them:--

'Twas said: "When roll of drum and battle's roar
Shall cease upon the earth, oh, then no more
The deed, the race, of heroes in the land."
But scarce that word was breathed when one small hand
Lifted victorious o'er a giant wrong
That had its victims crushed through ages long;
Some woman set her pale and quivering face,
Firm as a rock, against a man's disgrace;
A little child suffered i