assuredly a ghastly magnitude about modern war which almost lends it an
element of novelty, but the appearance is illusory. That intense
employment of resources which makes modern war so sanguinary tends also
to shorten its duration. No military struggle could now be prolonged
into the period of the Napoleonic wars; to say nothing of the Thirty
Years War, which involved the death, with every circumstance of
ferocity, of immensely larger numbers than could be affected by any
modern war. Nor may we forget that it is the modern spirit which has
claimed some alleviation of the horrors of the field, and that the
majority of the nations engaged in the present struggle have observed
the new rules.

These considerations show that the problem is less simple and more
serious than is often supposed, and I set out to discuss each of them
with some fullness. That the war has _no_ relation to the Churches will
hardly be claimed by anybody. Such a claim would mean that they were
indifferent to one of the very gravest phases of human conduct, or
wholly unable to influence it. Nor can we avoid the issue by pleading
that Christianity approves and blesses a just defensive war, and that,
since the share of this country in the war is entirely just and
defensive, we have no moral problem to consider. I have assuredly no
intention of questioning either the justice of Britain's conduct or the
prudence of the Churches in adapting the maxims of the Sermon on the
Mount to the practical needs of life. If and when a nation sees its life
and prosperity threatened by an ambitious or a jealous neighbour, one
cannot but admire its clergy for joining in the advocacy of an efficient
and triumphant defence. But this is merely a superficial and proximate
consideration. Not the actual war only, but the military system of which
it is the occasional outcome, has a very pertinent relation to religion;
the maintenance of this machinery for settling international quarrels in