2. Beyond this economy, which need not be argued, is the positive _advantage, if not necessity_, of such change for France. I do not speak on general grounds applicable to all nations, but on grounds peculiar to France at the present moment. Emerging from a most destructive war, she will be subjected to enormous and unprecedented contributions of every kind. After satisfying Germany, she will find other obligations at home,--some pressing directly upon the nation, and others upon individuals. Beyond the outstanding pay of soldiers, requisitions for supplies, pensions for the wounded and the families of the dead, and other extraordinary liabilities accumulating as never before in the same time, there will be the duty of renewing that internal prosperity which has received such a shock; and here the work of restoration will be costly, whether to the nation or the individual. Revenue must be regained, roads and bridges repaired, markets supplied; nor can we omit the large and multitudinous losses from ravage of fields, seizure of stock, suspension of business, stoppage of manufactures, interference with agriculture, and the whole terrible drain of war by which the people are impoverished and disabled. If to the necessary appropriation and expenditure for all these things is superadded the annual tax of a Standing Army, and that other draft from the change of producers into non-producers, plainly here is a supplementary burden of crushing weight. Talk of the last feather breaking the back of the camel,--but never was camel loaded down as France. 3. Beyond even these considerations of economy and advantage I put the transcendent, priceless benefit of Disarmament in the _assurance of peace_. Disarmament substitutes the constable for the soldier, and reduces the Standing Army to a police. The argument assumes, first, the needlessness of a Standing Army, and, secondly, its evil influence. Both of these points were touched at an early day by the wise Chancellor of England, Sir Thomas More, when, in his practical and personal Introduction to “Utopia,” he alludes to what he calls the “bad custom” of keeping many servants, and then says: “In France there is yet a more pestiferous sort of people; for the whole country is full of soldiers, that are still kept up in time of peace,--if such a state of a nation can be called a peace.” Then, proceeding with his judgment, the Chancellor holds up what he calls those “pretended statesmen” whose maxim is that “it is necessary for the public safety to have a good body of veteran soldiers ever in readiness.” And after saying that these pretended statesmen “sometimes seek occasion for making war, that they may train up their soldiers in the art of cutting throats,” he adds, in words soon to be tested, “But France has learned, to its cost, how dangerous it is to feed such beasts.”[217] It will be well, if France has learned this important lesson. The time has come to practise it.