lesser interest, all the blood heroically spilt into the
Mediterranean has not stained with a single trail of purple the
deep azure of its classic waters.

Of course, it may be argued that battles have shaped the destiny of
mankind. The question whether they have shaped it well would
remain open, however. But it would be hardly worth discussing. It
is very probable that, had the Battle of Salamis never been fought,
the face of the world would have been much as we behold it now,
fashioned by the mediocre inspiration and the short-sighted labours
of men. From a long and miserable experience of suffering,
injustice, disgrace and aggression the nations of the earth are
mostly swayed by fear--fear of the sort that a little cheap oratory
turns easily to rage, hate, and violence. Innocent, guileless fear
has been the cause of many wars. Not, of course, the fear of war
itself, which, in the evolution of sentiments and ideas, has come
to be regarded at last as a half-mystic and glorious ceremony with
certain fashionable rites and preliminary incantations, wherein the
conception of its true nature has been lost. To apprehend the true
aspect, force, and morality of war as a natural function of mankind
one requires a feather in the hair and a ring in the nose, or,
better still, teeth filed to a point and a tattooed breast.
Unfortunately, a return to such simple ornamentation is impossible.
We are bound to the chariot of progress. There is no going back;
and, as bad luck would have it, our civilization, which has done so
much for the comfort and adornment of our bodies and the elevation
of our minds, has made lawful killing frightfully and needlessly
expensive.

The whole question of improved armaments has been approached by the