"In war? How?"

"There has never been a just one, never an honorable one--on the part of
the instigator of the war. I can see a million years ahead, and this
rule will never change in so many as half a dozen instances. The loud
little handful--as usual--will shout for the war. The pulpit will
--warily and cautiously--object--at first; the great, big, dull bulk of
the nation will rub its sleepy eyes and try to make out why there should
be a war, and will say, earnestly and indignantly, "It is unjust and
dishonorable, and there is no necessity for it." Then the handful will
shout louder. A few fair men on the other side will argue and reason
against the war with speech and pen, and at first will have a hearing and
be applauded; but it will not last long; those others will outshout them,
and presently the anti-war audiences will thin out and lose popularity.
Before long you will see this curious thing: the speakers stoned from the
platform, and free speech strangled by hordes of furious men who in their
secret hearts are still at one with those stoned speakers--as earlier
--but do not dare to say so. And now the whole nation--pulpit and all
--will take up the war-cry, and shout itself hoarse, and mob any honest
man who ventures to open his mouth; and presently such mouths will cease
to open. Next the statesmen will invent cheap lies, putting the blame
upon the nation that is attacked, and every man will be glad of those
conscience-soothing falsities, and will diligently study them, and refuse
to examine any refutations of them; and thus he will by and by convince
himself that the war is just, and will thank God for the better sleep he
enjoys after this process of grotesque self-deception."