ance. In
the great case of the Alabama claims, Charles Francis Adams pronounced
the construction of Confederate ships in English ports to be a
violation of the international law of neutrality. This certainly was a
question of national honor and vital interests, yet he pleaded for
arbitration. In reply Lord John Russell said, "That is a question of
honor which we will never arbitrate, for England's honor cannot be
made the subject of arbitration." The case was debated for six years.
Then came England's "Grand Old Man," the mighty Gladstone, with a
different view. "It is to the interest," he said, "not only of England
and the United States, but of the world, peaceably to settle those
claims." He submitted them to a joint high commission. England lost
and paid. Thus the honor of both nations was successfully arbitrated.
Likewise the Newfoundland fisheries case had been a bone of contention
between Great Britain and America from the day our independence was
recognized. As late as 1887 it threatened to become the cause of war.
No question ever arose which more vitally affected the interests of
America, yet the Senate recently accepted a settlement by arbitration.
Similarly, the Alaska fur seal dispute, the Alaskan and the Venezuelan
boundary disputes, and the northeast boundary controversy all involved
both the vital interests and the national honor of England and
America, yet all were satisfactorily and permanently arbitrated. So
excited were we over our northwest boundary that the principal issue
of a political campaign was "The whole of Oregon or none! Fifty-four
forty or fight!" Yet we peaceably acquiesced in a treaty that gave us
neither.

Yes, our honor may be arbitrated. If we are ill-prepared for war, we
arbitrate. If we are sure of a favorable award, we arbitrate. But we
must have a loophole, an ever-ready escape from obligation. Posing as
the most enlightened nation on the face of the globe, we refuse
entirely to displace those medieval notions according to which
personal honor found its best protection in the dueling pistol, and
national honor its only vindication in slaughter and devastation. To
unlimited arbitration we refuse to submit.

Fifteen years ago England, the mighty England, gave us her pledge that
no cause should ever justify war. This pledge our Senate in the name
of honor refused. Unlimited arbitration agreements were suggested at
both Hague Conferences. Americans promptly placed restrictions upon