modern weapons would make war so destructive and terrible that civilized nations would be compelled to abandon it, and would of necessity turn to arbitration to adjust their differences. No hope for universal peace need be based on this assumption. And the reason is clear enough. There will never come a time when human devices to destroy life can get the upper hand of the human instinct of self-preservation. The scheme of nature has not placed the race at the mercy of any human genius of destruction.
However, the pressure of the humanitarian spirit upon usages of war throws out signals here and there, even in Manchuria. Many of the barbarities attending upon armed conflict show unmistakable symptoms of amelioration. The situation of non-combatants is improved. Both belligerents have displayed more consideration to the Chinese population than might have been expected, and their conduct has shown a great advance beyond that of the allies in 1900. Such supplies belonging to the Chinese that have been consumed have, as a rule, been paid for, and a genuine attempt to subject non-combatants to as little inconvenience as possible has been made. This has been a necessary policy on the part of both armies. But that such a policy is becoming necessary is something. It is gratifying to see two great powers acknowledging by conduct as well as proclamation that the peaceful inhabitants of a country have rights which must be respected, especially when those inhabitants are Chinese.
We have heard less than usual about such conventional barbarities as abuse of prisoners and mutilation of the dead and wounded of the enemy. Early in the war a few mutilation stories were brought to us in Liao-Yang, but we, suspecting them to be a part of the “yellow peril” propaganda, demanded to be “shown,” and we heard no more of them. It should be stated that these reports were never given out officially. Both sides have been very careful about this abuse, and I think that such instances as have occurred may be regarded as sporadic. This could never have been truthfully said before about any war involving Russians and Asiatics. The use of artificial stimulants, once so common in armies, particularly the Russian, has been minimized in this war. I do not know whether the change is due to moral or practical reasons, but I am inclined to credit the latter. Stimulants cannot keep troops up to the mark during a week of fighting. It might be all right for a day or two, but the state of nerves superinduced by the after-effects of liquor or other stimulants hardly fit a man to endure prolonged physical and mental strain. Stories that the Japanese soldiers are given opium before entering battle are related among the Russians, but I have no information which would justify the charge. Such practices have been common enough among Asiatics in war. It yet remains for international law to place further limitations upon belligerents, with a view to confining the evils of war as nearly as possible to the actual combatants. Certain hopeful tendencies in this direction are not lacking.
The definite conclusions one may reach from all this are few. It is certain, however, that war is becoming more technical. This means that greater effort is required to create even passably good soldiers out of the average civilian. And no army can approach a first-class standard without carefully educated and practically trained officers—not merely a few, but many thousands. If the American people learn this single lesson from the desperate war now convulsing the Far East they will have acquired something valuable out of a regrettable affair.
