one thing that a philosopher
can be relied on to do, and that is, to contradict other philosophers.
In ancient times philosophers defined man as the rational animal; and
philosophers since then have always found much more to say about the
rational than about the animal part of the definition. But looked at
candidly, reason bears about the same proportion to the rest of human
nature that we in this hall bear to the rest of America, Europe, Asia,
Africa and Polynesia. Reason is one of the very feeblest of nature's
forces, if you take it at only one spot and moment. It is only in the
very long run that its effects become perceptible. Reason assumes to
settle things by weighing them against each other without prejudice,
partiality or excitement; but what affairs in the concrete are settled
by is, and always will be, just prejudices, partialities, cupidities
and excitements. Appealing to reason as we do, we are in a sort of
forlorn-hope situation, like a small sandbank in the midst of a hungry
sea ready to wash it out of existence. But sand-banks grow when the
conditions favor; and weak as reason is, it has this unique advantage
over its antagonists that its activity never lets up and that it
presses always in one direction, while men's prejudices vary, their
passions ebb and flow, and their excitements are intermittent. Our
sand-bank, I absolutely believe, is bound to grow. Bit by bit it will
get dyked and breakwatered. But sitting as we do in this warm room,
with music and lights and smiling faces, it is easy to get too sanguine
about our task; and since I am called to speak, I feel as if it might
not be out of place to say a word about the strength.

Our permanent enemy is the rooted bellicosity of human nature. Man,
biologically considered, and whatever else he may be into the bargain,
is the most formidable of all beasts of prey, and, indeed, the only one
that preys systematically on his own species. We are once for all
adapted to the military status. A millennium of peace would not breed
the fighting disposition out of our bone and marrow, and a function so
ingrained and vital will never consent to die without resistance, and
will always find impassioned apologists and idealizers.

Not only men born to be soldiers, but non-combatants by trade and
nature, historians in their studies, and clergymen in their pulpits,
have been war's idealizers. They have talked of war as of God's court
of justice. And, inde