In those dim, far-off days, who had dreamed what would come? Who could have believed that great nations would discard without compunction all the carefully built-up conventions of international law? That murder in the air, on land, on the sea, under the sea, would be rewarded by the highest military honours? That a supposedly friendly nation would fill another land with spies--even among the accredited envoys of diplomacy? Sadly this man thought of the long painful fight he had made to keep one nation at least out of the tragic, barbaric struggle. Giving due honour to convinced militarist and sincere pacifist, his own course was still different. That his country, disregarding the old fetishes of honour and insult, should stand solidly for humanity; should endure all things, suffer all things, for humanity's sake; should seek to bind up the wounds and fill the starving mouths. That one nation--not because she was weak, but because she was strong--should, with God's help, make a firm stand for peace and show to all mankind that force can never conquer force. "A nation can be so right that it should be too proud to fight." Magnificent words, true words, which one day would re-echo in history as the utterance of a man years in advance of his time--but what rolling thunders of vituperation they had cost him! _Too proud to fight_!... If only it had been possible to carry through to the end this message from Judea! But, little by little, and with growing anguish, he had seen that the nation must take another step. Little by little, as the inhuman frenzies of warfare had grown in savagery, inflicting unspeakable horror on non-combatants, women and children, he had realized that his cherished dream must be laid aside. For the first time in human history a great nation had dared to waive pride, honour, and--with bleeding heart--even the lives of its own for the hope of humanity and civilization. With face buried in his hands he reviewed the long catalogue of atrocities on the seas. He could feel his cheeks grow hot against his palms. _Arabic_, _Lusitania_, _Persia_, _Laconia_, _Falaba_, _Gulflight_, _Sussex_, _California_--the names were etched in his brain in letters of grief. And now, since the "barred-zone" decree ... He straightened in his chair. Like a garment the mood of anguish slipped from him. He snapped on the green desk light and turned to his personal typewriter. As he did so, from some old student day a phrase flashed into his mind--the words of Martin Luther, the Thuringian peasant and university professor, who four hundred years before had nailed his theses on the church door at Wittenberg: "_Gott helfe mir, ich kann nicht anders_." They chimed a solemn refrain in his heart as he inserted a fresh sheet of paper behind the roller and resumed his writing....