The Prussian military system collapsed in the throes of revolution and the rest of Europe breathed again. Materialism in its most efficient form had failed, and to peoples bearing the intolerable burden imposed by armaments came a new hope. Unfortunately, that hope was vain. With the cessation of hostilities, the suicide of Old Europe was not completely consummated. After the signing of the Armistice, enlightened opinion, though undoubtedly disconcerted by the rapid march of events, expected from the sudden downfall of the Central Empires a swift transition from the old order to the new. The expectation was not unreasonable that four years of wasteful, mad destruction would be a lesson to mankind and, in a figurative sense, would form the apex of a pyramid of errors--a pyramid rising from a broad base of primitive emotions, through secret stages of artifice and intrigue, and culminating in a point on which nothing could be built. A gloomy monument, indeed, and useless--save as a habitation for the dead. In an evil hour for civilization, the delegates who met to make the Peace in Paris preferred the prospect of immediate gain to laying the foundation of a new and better world. They, and the experts who advised them, saw in the pyramid of errors a familiar structure, though incomplete. Its completion demanded neither vision, nor courage, nor originality of thought; precedent was their only guide in framing Treaties which crowned the errors of the past and placed its topmost block. The chickens hatched at Versailles are now coming home to roost. Democracy has been betrayed, our boasted civilization has been exposed as a thin veneer overlaying the most savage instincts. Throughout all Europe a state of moral anarchy prevails, hatred and a lust for vengeance have usurped the place not only of charity and decent conduct but also of statesmanship and common-sense. Peoples mistrust their neighbours and their rulers, rich territories are unproductive for lack of confidence and goodwill. These ills are moral and only moral remedies will cure them. Force _was_ required, and has done its work in successfully resisting aggression by military states now humbled and dismembered. But Force is a weapon with a double edge, and plays no part in human progress. While this book endeavours to draw some lessons from the war and from the even more disastrous peace, at the same time it pleads a cause. That cause is Progress, and an appeal is made to all thinking men and women to give their attention to these urgent international affairs, which affect not only their prosperity, but their honour as citizens of civilized States. The first step in this direction is to inform ourselves. If, in the following pages, a little light is thrown on what was before obscure, the writer will feel that his toil in the execution of an unaccustomed task has been rewarded. C. W. THOMSON LONDON. December 6, 1921. CONTENTS