The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1918-03-01

self-denying ordinance, the next gen. eration will most assuredly grow up, hungering and thirsting for the taste of war. I was brought up as a youngster on Erckmann-C Christian and Alexander Dumas with tales of the Border fueds and the joyous days of the Round Table; and I can remem- Der how my schoolboy blood leaped with delight when heard that Prus- sia had declared war on France; and how I hoped that one day, not far removed, my own dear country woul1 call us to battle. On Sunday I did hp-service to peace, but in my heart of hearts I deemed it the prayer of a coward. You cannot play the Devils music for ever and not expect the young men to dance to the tune. The Old Leaven.
 | There are signs that the warning is not unheeded Dear ladies who have probably never seen anything more gruesome than the convalescent ward of a base hospital are already writing | the romantic histories oI happy war riors in the trenches. Elderly gentle men of religious turn of mind are extOling the battlefield as the only deathbed worthy of a Christian. The Old Testament is being ransacked- not in vain, and not for the first time in history-for passages calculated to
 infame the passions of mankind, the
 bishops are busy extracting from the
 story of Christ's life arguments
 against the conscientious objector.
 The old leaven is threatening to per-
 meate us anew. Even MT. Wells, car
 ried away apparently by enthusiasm
 for all things military, imagines his new god as a gentleman in shining
 armor. It seems somewhat out of
 date. Why not a tin helmet and a
 gas mask. One foresees the uses to
 which MT. Wells god is likely to be put in the Prussian unterschuIe of
 the near future or in the village
 board school on Trafalgar Day; how
 that shining armor will look large,
 and how very small the god within
 will be allowed to sing. The god that
 will one day banish war see clad in
 less martial array. I see Him crown
 ed, but not with the helmet of the Caesars.
 That war will continue to afford
 material to the writer of the future is
 to be expected There is tenderness and pity and courage to be drawn
 from it. But I would have it rele-
 gated to the catalogue of crimes. Lust and debauchery no se1f-respecting writer dares now to present in at- tractive co1ors. And lust and de- bauchery are going out of fashion. Tho Uar-NaIra,.e
 The desire of mans heart towards war will wither as Reason slowly
 grows. A grim responsibility will rest
 upon those who for purposes of profit or popularity persist in playing upon his bestial instincts. So long as we condemn war only with our lips while worshipping it secretly in our
 hearts, the fuii thing will be scotched : only to raise again it's head with the
 coming of each generation Nature is kind. Her green covers up the deso- : lation and the sound of mourning } yields to the voices of the living It 7 is man who canot leave forgotten the memory of blood. I remember 5 seeking the battlefelds of Leipzig. Fields and gardens had obliterated it. What a pity" said a lady of the $ party. 'They might at least have re- served a portion, just as a memento. " < The wind of Reason will one day
 blow strong, driving before it the . evil vapors of war. It is for the f thinkers of the world, it's writers and it's artists and it's dreamers, to feel the first faint stirring of it's breath ! upon their souls. (By the Interna-
 tiona1 News Bureau, Inc, Boston )