and knowledge.)

My dear Children,

I rejoice to see you before me to-day, happy youth of a sunny and
fortunate land.

Bear in mind that the wonderful things you learn in your schools are
the work of many generations, produced by enthusiastic effort and infinite
labour in every country of the world. All this is put into your hands as
your inheritance in order that you may receive it, honour it, add to it, and
one day faithfully hand it on to your children. Thus do we mortals achieve
immortality in the permanent things which we create in common.

If you always keep that in mind you will find a meaning in life and
work and acquire the right attitude towards other nations and ages.

Paradise Lost

As late as the seventeenth century the savants and artists of all
Europe were so closely united by the bond of a common ideal that
co-operation between them was scarcely affected by political events. This
unity was further strengthened by the general use of the Latin language.

To-day we look back at this state of affairs as at a lost paradise. The
passions of nationalism have destroyed this community of the intellect, and
the Latin language, which once united the whole world, is dead. The men of
learning have become the chief mouthpieces of national tradition and lost
their sense of an intellectual commonwealth.

Nowadays we are faced with the curious fact that the politicians, the
practical men of affairs, have become the exponents of international ideas.
It is they who have created the League of Nations.


Religion and Science

Everything that the human race has done and thought is concerned with
the satisfaction of felt needs and the assuagement of pain. One has to keep
this constantly in mind if one wishes to understand spiritual movements and
their development. Feeling and desire are the motive forces behind all human
endeavour and human creation, in however exalted a guise the latter may
present itself to us. Now what are the feelings and needs that have led men
to religious thought and belief in the widest sense of the words? A little
consideration will suffice to show us that the most varying emotions preside
over the birth of religious thought and experience. With primitive man it is
above all fear that evokes religious notions--fear of hunger, wild beasts,
sickness, death. Since at this stage of existence understanding of causal
connexions is usually poorly developed, the human mind creates for itself
more or less analogous beings on whose wills and actions these fearful
happenings depend. One's object now is to secure the favour of these beings
by carrying out actions and offering sacrifices which, according to the
tradition handed down from generation to generation, propitiate them or make
them well disposed towards a mortal. I am speaking now of the religion of
fear. This, though not created, is in an important degree stabilized by the
formation of a special priestly caste which sets up as a mediator between
the people and the beings they fear, and erects a hegemony on this basis. In
many cases the leader or ruler whose position depends on other factors, or a
privileged class, combines priestly functions with its secular authority in
order to make the latter more secure; or the political rulers and the
priestly caste make common cause in their own interests.

The social feelings are another source of the crystallization of
religion. Fathers and mothers and the leaders of larger human communities
are mortal and fallible. The desire for guidance, love, and support prompts
men to form the social or moral conception of God. This is the God of
Providence who protects, disposes, rewards, and punishes, the God who,
according to the width of the believer's outlook, loves and cherishes the
life of the tribe or of the human race, or even life as such, the comforter
in sorrow and unsatisfied longing, who preserves the souls of the dead. This
is the social or moral conception of God.

The Jewish scriptures admirably illustrate the development from the
religion of fear to moral religion, which is continued in the New Testament.
The religions of all civilized peoples, especially the peoples of the
Orient, are primarily moral religions. The development from a religion of
fear to moral religion is a great step in a nation's life. That primitive
religions are based entirely on fear and the religions of civilized peoples
purely on morality is a prejudice against which we must be on our guard. The
truth is that they are all intermediate types, with this reservation, that
on the higher levels of social life the religion of morality predominates.

Common to all these types is the anthropomorphic character of their
conception of God. Only individuals of exceptional endowments and
exceptionally high-minded communities, as a general rule, get in any real
sense beyond this level. But there is a third state of religious experience
which belongs to all of them, even though it is rarely found in a pure form,
and which I will call cosmic religious feeling. It is very difficult to
explain this feeling to anyone who is entirely without it, especially as
there is no anthropomorphic conception of God corresponding to it.

The individual feels the nothingness of human desires and aims and the
sublimity and marvellous order which reveal themselves both in nature and in
the world of thought. He looks upon individual existence as a sort of prison
and wants to experience the universe as a single significant whole. The
beginnings of cosmic religious feeling already appear in earlier stages of
development--e.g., in many of the Psalms of David and in some of the
Prophets. Buddhism, as we have learnt from the wonderful writings of
Schopenhauer especially, contains a much stronger element of it.

The religious geniuses of all ages have been distinguished by this kind
of religious feeling, which knows no dogma and no God conceived in man's
image; so that there can be no Church whose central teachings are based on
it. Hence it is precisely among the heretics of every age that we find men
who were filled with the highest kind of religious feeling and were in many
cases regarded by their contemporaries as Atheists, sometimes also as
saints. Looked at in this light, men like Democritus, Francis of Assisi, and
Spinoza are closely akin to one another.

How can cosmic religious feeling be communicated from one person to
another, if it can give rise to no definite notion of a God and no theology?
In my view, it is the most important function of art and science to awaken
this feeling and keep it alive in those who are capable of it.

We thus arrive at a conception of the relation of science to religion
very different from the usual one. When one views the matter historically
one is inclined to look upon science and religion as irreconcilable
antagonists, and for a very obvious reason. The man who is thoroughly
convinced of the universal operation of the law of causation cannot for a
moment entertain the idea of a being who interferes in the course of
events--that is, if he takes the hypothesis of causality really seriously.
He has no use for the religion of fear and equally little for social or
moral religion. A God who rewards and punishes is inconceivable to him for
the simple reason that a man's actions are determined by necessity, external
and internal, so that in God's eyes he cannot be responsible, any more than
an inanimate object is responsible for the motions it goes through. Hence
science has been charged with undermining morality, but the charge is
unjust. A man's ethical behaviour should be based effectually on sympathy,
education, and social ties; no religious basis is necessary. Man would
indeed be in a poor way if he had to be restrained by fear and punishment
and hope of reward after death.

It is therefore easy to see why the Churches have always fought science
and persecuted its devotees. On the other hand, I maintain that cosmic
religious feeling is the strongest and noblest incitement to scientific
research. Only those who realize the immense efforts and, above all, the
devotion which pioneer work in theoretical science demands, can grasp the
strength of the emotion out of which alone such work, remote as it is from
the immediate realities of life, can issue. What a deep conviction of the
rationality of the universe and what a yearning to understand, were it but a
feeble reflection of the mind revealed in this world, Kepler and Newton must
have had to enable them to spend years of solitary labour in disentangling
the principles of celestial mechanics! Those whose acquaintance with
scientific research is derived chiefly from its practical results easily
develop a completely false notion of the mentality of the men who,
surrounded by a sceptical world, have shown the way to those like-minded
with themselves, scattered through the earth and the centuries. Only one who
has devoted his life to similar ends can have a vivid realization of what
has inspired these men and given them the strength to remain true to their
purpose in spite of countless failures. It is cosmic religious feeling that
gives a man strength of this sort. A contemporary has said, not unjustly,
that in this materialistic age of ours the serious scientific workers are
the only profoundly religious people.

The Religiousness of Science

You will hardly find one among the profounder sort of scientific minds
without a peculiar religious feeling of his own. But it is different from
the religion of the naive man. For the latter God is a being from whose care
one hopes to benefit and whose punishment one fears; a sublimation of a
feeling similar to that of a child for its father, a being to whom one
stands to some extent in a personal relation, however deeply it may be
tinged with awe.

But the scientist is possessed by the sense of universal causation. The
future, to him, is every whit as necessary and determined as the past. There
is nothing divine about morality, it is a purely human affair. His religious
feeling takes the form of a rapturous amazement at the harmony of natural
law, which reveals an intelligence of such superiority that, compared with
it, all the systematic thinking and acting of human beings is an utterly
insignificant reflection. This feeling is the guiding principle of his life
and work, in so far as he succeeds in keeping himself from the shackles of
selfish desire. It is beyond question closely akin to that which has
possessed the religious geniuses of all ages.

The Plight of Science

The German-speaking countries are menaced by a danger to which those in
the know are in duty bound to call attention in the most emphatic terms. The
economic stress which political events bring in their train does not hit
everybody equally hard. Among the hardest hit are the institutions and
individuals whose material existence depends directly on the State. To this
category belong the scientific institutions and workers on whose work not
merely the well-being of science but also the position occupied by Germany
and Austria in the scale of culture very largely depends.

To grasp the full gravity of the situation it is necessary to bear in
mind the following consideration. In times of crisis people are generally
blind to everything outside their immediate necessities. For work which is
directly productive of material wealth they will pay. But science, if it is
to flourish, must have no practical end in view. As a general rule, the
knowledge and the methods which it creates only subserve practical ends
indirectly and, in many cases, not till after the lapse of several
generations. Neglect of science leads to a subsequent dearth of intellectual
workers able, in virtue of their independent outlook and judgment, to blaze
new trails for industry or adapt themselves to new situations. Where
scientific enquiry is stunted the intellectual life of the nation dries up,
which means the withering of many possibilities of future development. This
is what we have to prevent. Now that the State has been weakened as a result
of nonpolitical causes, it is up to the economically stronger members of the
community to come to the rescue directly, and prevent the decay of
scientific life.

Far-sighted men with a clear understanding of the situation have set up
institutions by which scientific work of every sort is to be kept going in
Germany and Austria. Help to make these efforts a real success. In my
teaching work I see with admiration that economic troubles have not yet
succeeded in stifling the will and the enthusiasm for scientific research.
Far from it! Indeed, it looks as if our disasters had actually quickened the
devotion to non-material goods. Everywhere people are working with burning
enthusiasm in the most difficult circumstances. See to it that the
will-power and the talents of the youth of to-day do not perish to the
grievous hurt of the community as a whole.

Fascism and Science

A letter to Signor Rocco, Minister of State, Rome.

My dear Sir,

Two of the most eminent and respected men of science in Italy
have applied to me in their difficulties of conscience and
requested me to write to you with the object of preventing, if
possible, a piece of cruel persecution with which men of learning
are threatened in Italy. I refer to a form of oath in which fidelity
to the Fascist system is to be promised. The burden of my
request is that you should please advise Signor Mussolini to
spare the flower of Italy's intellect this humiliation.

However much our political convictions may differ, I know that
we agree on one point: in the progressive achievements of the
European mind both of us see and love our highest good. Those
achievements are based on the freedom of thought and of
teaching, on the principle that the desire for truth must take
precedence of all other desires. It was this basis alone that
enabled our civilization to take its rise in Greece and to celebrate
its rebirth in Italy at the Renaissance. This supreme good has
been paid for by the martyr's blood of pure and great men, for
whose sake Italy is still loved and reverenced to-day.

Far be it from me to argue with you about what inroads on
human liberty may be justified by reasons of State. But the
pursuit of scientific truth, detached from the practical interests of
everyday life, ought to be treated as sacred by every
Government, and it is in the highest interests of all that honest
servants of truth should be left in peace. This is also undoubtedly
in the interests of the Italian State and its prestige in the eyes of
the world.

Hoping that my request will not fall on deaf ears, I am, etc.

    A. E.



Interviewers

To be called to account publicly for everything one has said, even in
jest, an excess of high spirits, or momentary anger, fatal as it must be in
the end, is yet up to a point reasonable and natural. But to be called to
account publicly for what others have said in one's name, when one cannot
defend oneself, is indeed a sad predicament. "But who suffers such a
dreadful fate?" you will ask. Well, everyone who is of sufficient interest
to the public to be pursued by interviewers. You smile incredulously, but I
have had plenty of direct experience and will tell you about it.

Imagine the following situation. One morning a reporter comes to you
and asks you in a friendly way to tell him something about your friend N. At
first you no doubt feel something approaching indignation at such a
proposal. But you soon discover that there is no escape. If you refuse to
say anything, the man writes: "I asked one of N.'s supposedly best friends
about him. But he prudently avoided my questions. This in itself enables the
reader to draw the inevitable conclusions." There is, therefore, no escape,
and you give the following information: "Mr. N. is a cheerful,
straightforward man, much liked by all his friends. He can find a bright
side to any situation. His enterprise and industry know no bounds; his job
takes up his entire energies. He is devoted to his family and lays
everything he possesses at his wife's feet. . . "

Now for the reporter's version : "Mr. N. takes nothing very seriously
and has a gift for making himself liked, particularly as he carefully
cultivates a hearty and ingratiating manner. He is so completely a slave to
his job that he has no time for the considerations of any non-personal
subject or for any mental activity outside it. He spoils his wife
unbelievably and is utterly under her thumb. . ."

A real reporter would make it much more spicy, but I expect this will
be enough for you and your friend N. He reads this, and some more like it,
in the paper next morning, and his rage against you knows no bounds, however
cheerful and benevolent his natural disposition may be. The injury done to
him gives you untold pain, especially as you are really fond of him.

What's your next step, my friend? If you know, tell me quickly, so that
I may adopt your method with all speed.


Thanks to America

Mr. Mayor, Ladies, and Gentlemen,

The splendid reception which you have accorded to me to-day puts me to
the blush in so far as it is meant for me personally, but it gives me all
the more pleasure in so far as it is meant for me as a representative of
pure science. For this gathering is an outward and visible sign that the
world is no longer prone to regard material power and wealth as the highest
goods. It is gratifying that men should feel an urge to proclaim this in an
official way.

In the wonderful two months which I have been privileged to spend in
your midst in this fortunate land, I have had many opportunities of
observing what a high value men of action and of practical life attach to
the efforts of science; a good few of them have placed a considerable
proportion of their fortunes and their energies at the service of scientific
enterprises and thereby contributed to the prosperity and prestige of this
country.

I cannot let this occasion pass without referring in a spirit of
thankfulness to the fact that American patronage of science is not limited
by national frontiers. Scientific enterprises all over the civilized world
rejoice in the liberal support of American institutions and individuals--a
fact which is, I am sure, a source of pride and gratification to all of you.

These tokens of an international way of thinking and feeling are
particularly welcome; for the world is to-day more than ever in need of
international thinking and feeling by its leading nations and personalities,
if it is to progress towards a better and more worthy future. I may be
permitted to express the hope that this internationalism of the American
nation, which proceeds from a high sense of responsibility, will very soon
extend itself to the sphere of politics. For without the active co-operation
of the great country of the United States in the business of regulating
international relations, all efforts directed towards this important end are
bound to remain more or less ineffectual.

I thank you most heartily for this magnificent reception and, in
particular, the men of learning in this country for the cordial and friendly
welcome I have received from them. I shall always look back on these two
months with pleasure and gratitude.

The University Course at Davos

Senalores boni viri, senatus autem bestia. So a friend of mine, a Swiss
professor, once wrote in his irritable way to a university faculty which had
annoyed him. Communities tend to be less guided than individuals by
conscience and a sense of responsibility. What a fruitful source of
suffering to mankind this fact is! It is the cause of wars and every kind of
oppression, which fill the earth with pain, sighs, and bitterness.

And yet nothing truly valuable can be achieved except by the unselfish
co-operation of many individuals. Hence the man of good will is never
happier than when some communal enterprise is afoot and is launched at the
cost of heavy sacrifices, with the single object of promoting life and
culture.

Such pure joy was mine when I heard about the university courses at
Davos. A work of rescue is being carried out there, with intelligence and a
wise moderation, which is based on a grave need, though it may not be a need
that is immediately obvious to everyone. Many a young man goes to this
valley with his hopes fixed on the healing power of its sunny mountains and
regains his bodily health. But thus withdrawn for long periods from the
will-hardening discipline of normal work and a prey to morbid reflection on
his physical condition, he easily loses the power of mental effort and the
sense of being able to hold his own in the struggle for existence. He
becomes a sort of hot-house plant and, when his body is cured, often finds
it difficult to get back to normal life. Interruption of intellectual
training in the formative period of youth is very apt to leave a gap which
can hardly be filled later.

Yet, as a general rule, intellectual work in moderation, so far from
retarding cure, indirectly helps it forward, just as moderate physical work
does. It is in this knowledge that the university courses are being
instituted, with the object not merely of preparing these young people for a
profession but of stimulating them to intellectual activity as such. They
are to provide work, training, and hygiene in the sphere of the mind.

Let us not forget that this enterprise is admirably calculated to
establish such relations between members of different nations as are
favourable to the growth of a common European feeling. The effects of the
new institution in this direction are likely to be all the more advantageous
from the fact that the circumstances of its birth rule out every sort of
political purpose. The best way to serve the cause of internationalism is by
co-operating in some life-giving work.

>From all these points of view I rejoice that the energy and
intelligence of the founders of the university courses at Davos have already
attained such a measure of success that the enterprise has outgrown the
troubles of infancy. May it prosper, enriching the inner lives of numbers of
admirable human beings and rescuing many from the poverty of sanatorium
life!

Congratulations to a Critic

To see with one's own eyes, to feel and judge without succumbing to the
suggestive power of the fashion of the day, to be able to express what one
has seen and felt in a snappy sentence or even in a cunningly wrought
word--is that not glorious? Is it not a proper subject for congratulation?

Greeting to G. Bernard Shaw

There are few enough people with sufficient independence to see the
weaknesses and follies of their contemporaries and remain themselves
untouched by them. And these isolated few usually soon lose their zeal for
putting things to rights when they have come face to face with human
obduracy. Only to a tiny minority is it given to fascinate their generation
by subtle humour and grace and to hold the mirror up to it by the impersonal
agency of art. To-day I salute with sincere emotion the supreme master of
this method, who has delighted--and educated--us all.

Some Notes on my American Impressions

I must redeem my promise to say something about my impressions of this
country. That is not altogether easy for me. For it is not easy to take up
the attitude of an impartial observer when one is received with such
kindness and undeserved respect as I have been in America. First of all let
me say something on this head.

The cult of individual personalities is always, in my view,
unjustified. To be sure, nature distributes her gifts variously among her
children. But there are plenty of the well-endowed ones too, thank God, and
I am firmly convinced that most of them live quiet, unregarded lives. It
strikes me as unfair, and even in bad taste, to select a few of them fur
boundless admiration, attributing superhuman powers of mind and character to
them. This has been my fate, and the contrast between the popular estimate
of my powers and achievements and the reality is simply grotesque. The
consciousness of this extraordinary state of affairs would be unbearable but
for one great consoling thought: it is a welcome symptom in an age which is
commonly denounced as materialistic, that it makes heroes of men whose
ambitions lie wholly in the intellectual and moral sphere. This proves that
knowledge and justice are ranked above wealth and power by a large section
of the human race. My experience teaches me that this idealistic outlook is
particularly prevalent in America, which is usually decried as a
particularly materialistic country. After this digression I come to my
proper theme, in the hope that no more weight will be attached to my modest
remarks than they deserve.

What first strikes the visitor with amazement is the superiority of
this country in matters of technics and organization. Objects of everyday
use are more solid than in Europe, houses infinitely more convenient in
arrangement. Everything is designed to save human labour. Labour is
expensive, because the country is sparsely inhabited in comparison with its
natural resources. The high price of labour was the stimulus which evoked
the marvellous development of technical devices and methods of work. The
opposite extreme is illustrated by over-populated China or India, where the
low price of labour has stood in the way of the development of machinery.
Europe is half-way between the two. Once the machine is sufficiently highly
developed it becomes cheaper in the end than the cheapest labour. Let the
Fascists in Europe, who desire on narrow-minded political grounds to see
their own particular countries more densely populated, take heed of this.
The anxious care with which the United States keep out foreign goods by
means of prohibitive tariffs certainly contrasts oddly with this
notion.…But an innocent visitor must not be expected to rack his
brains too much, and, when all is said and done, it is not absolutely
certain that every question admits of a rational answer.

The second thing that strikes a visitor is the joyous, positive
attitude to life. The smile on the faces of the people in photographs is
symbolical of one of the American's greatest assets. He is friendly,
confident, optimistic, and--without envy. The European finds intercourse
with Americans easy and agreeable.

Compared with the American, the European is more critical, more
self-conscious, less goodhearted and helpful, more isolated, more fastidious
in his amusements and his reading, generally more or less of a pessimist.

Great importance attaches to the material comforts of life, and peace,
freedom from care, security are all sacrificed to them. The American lives
for ambition, the future, more than the European. Life for him is always
becoming, never being. In this respect he is even further removed from the
Russian and the Asiatic than the European is. But there is another respect
in which he resembles the Asiatic more than the European does: he is lest of
an individualist than the European--that is, from the psychological, not the
economic, point of view.

More emphasis is laid on the "we" than the "I." As a natural corollary
of this, custom and convention are very powerful, and there is much more
uniformity both in outlook on life and in moral and Фsthetic ideas among
Americans than among Europeans. This fact is chiefly responsible for
America's economic superiority over Europe. Co-operation and the division of
labour are carried through more easily and with less friction than in
Europe, whether in the factory or the university or in private good works.
This social sense may be partly due to the English tradition.

In apparent contradiction to this stands the fact that the activities
of the State are comparatively restricted as compared with Europe. The
European is surprised to find the telegraph, the telephone, the railways,
and the schools predominantly in private hands. The more social attitude of
the individual, which I mentioned just now, makes this possible here.
Another consequence of this attitude is that the extremely unequal
distribution of property leads to no intolerable hardships. The social
conscience of the rich man is much more highly developed than in Europe. He
considers himself obliged as a matter of course to place a large portion of
his wealth, and often of his own energies too, at the disposal of the
community, and public opinion, that all-powerful force, imperiously demands
it of him. Hence the most important cultural functions can be left to
private enterprise, and the part played by the State in this country is,
comparatively, a very restricted one.

The prestige of government has undoubtedly been lowered considerably by
the Prohibition laws. For nothing is more destructive of respect for the
government and the law of the land than passing laws which cannot be
enforced. It is an open secret that the dangerous increase of crime in this
country is closely connected with this.

There is also another way in which Prohibition, in my opinion, has led
to the enfeeblement of the State. The public-house is a place which gives
people a chance to exchange views and ideas on public affairs. As far as I
can see, people here have no chance of doing this, the result being that the
Press, which is mostly controlled by definite interests, has an excessive
influence over public opinion.

The over-estimation of money is still greater in this country than in
Europe, but appears to me to be on the decrease. It is at last beginning to
be realized that great wealth is not necessary for a happy and satisfactory
life.

As regards artistic matters, I have been genuinely impressed by the
good taste displayed in the modern buildings and in articles of common use;
on the other hand, the visual arts and music have little place in the life
of the nation as compared with Europe.

I have a warm admiration for the achievements of American institutes of
scientific research. We are unjust in attempting to ascribe the increasing
superiority of American research-work exclusively to superior wealth; zeal,
patience, a spirit of comradeship, and a talent for co-operation play an
important part in its successes. One more observation to finish up with. The
United States is the most powerful technically advanced country in the world
to-day. Its influence on the shaping of international relations is
absolutely incalculable. But America is a large country and its people have
so far not shown much interest in great international problems, among which
the problem of disarmament occupies first place today. This must be changed,
if only in the essential interests of the Americans. The last war has shown
that there are no longer any barriers between the continents and that the
destinies of all countries are closely interwoven. The people of this
country must realize that they have a great responsibility in the sphere of
international politics. The part of passive spectator is unworthy of this
country and is bound in the end to lead to disaster all round.

Reply to the Women of America

An American Women's League felt called upon to protest against
Einstein's visit to their country. They received the following answer.

Never yet have I experienced from the fair sex such energetic rejection
of all advances; or, if I have, never from so many at once.

But are they not quite right, these watchful citizenesses? Why should
one open one's doors to a person who devours hard-boiled capitalists with as
much appetite and gusto as the Cretan Minotaur in days gone by devoured
luscious Greek maidens, and on top of that is low-down enough to reject
every sort of war, except the unavoidable war with one's own wife? Therefore
give heed to your clever and patriotic women-folk and remember that the
Capitol of mighty Rome was once saved by the cackling of its faithful geese.


    II



Politics and Pacifism

Peace

The importance of securing international peace was recognized by the
really great men of former generations. But the technical advances of our
times have turned this ethical postulate into a matter of life and death for
civilized mankind to-day, and made the taking of an active part in the
solution of the problem of peace a moral duty which no conscientious man can
shirk.

One has to realize that the powerful industrial groups concerned in the
manufacture of arms are doing their best in all countries to prevent the
peaceful settlement of international disputes, and that rulers can achieve
this great end only if they are sure of the vigorous support of the majority
of their peoples. In these days of democratic government the fate of the
nations hangs on themselves; each individual must always bear that in mind.

The Pacifist Problem

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I am very glad of this opportunity of saying a few words to you about
the problem of pacificism. The course of events in the last few years has
once more shown us how little we are justified in leaving the struggle
against armaments and against the war spirit to the Governments. On the
other hand, the formation of large organizations with a large membership can
of itself bring us very little nearer to our goal. In my opinion, the best
method in this case is the violent one of conscientious objection, with the
aid of organizations for giving moral and material support to the courageous
conscientious objectors in each country. In this way we may succeed in
making the problem of pacificism an acute one, a real struggle which
attracts forceful natures. It is an illegal struggle, but a struggle for
people's real rights against their governments in so far as the latter
demand criminal acts of the citizen.

Many who think themselves good pacifists will jib at this out-and-out
pacifism, on patriotic grounds. Such people are not to be relied on in the
hour of crisis, as the World War amply proved.

I am most grateful to you for according me an opportunity to give you
my views in person.


Address to the Students' Disarmament Meeting

Preceding generations have presented us, in a highly developed science
and mechanical knowledge, with a most valuable gift which carries with it
possibilities of making our life free and beautiful such as no previous
generation has enjoyed. But this gift also brings with it dangers to our
existence as great as any that have ever threatened it.

The destiny of civilized humanity depends more than ever on the moral
forces it is capable of generating. Hence the task that confronts our age is
certainly no easier than the tasks our immediate predecessors successfully
performed.

The foodstuffs and other goods which the world needs can be produced in
far fewer hours of work than formerly. But this has made the problem of the
division of labour and the distribution of the goods produced far more
difficult. We all feel that the free play of economic forces, the
unregulated and unrestrained pursuit of wealth and power by the individual,
no longer leads automatically to a tolerable solution of these problems.
Production, labour, and distribution need to be organized on a definite
plan, in order to prevent valuable productive energies from being thrown
away and sections of the population from becoming impoverished and relapsing
into savagery. If unrestricted sacro egoismo leads to disastrous
consequences in economic life, it is a still worse guide in international
relations. The development of mechanical methods of warfare is such that
human life will become intolerable if people do not before long discover a
way of preventing war. The importance of this object is only equalled by the
inadequacy of the attempts hitherto made to attain it.

People seek to minimize the danger by limitation of armaments and
restrictive rules for the conduct of war. But war is not like a parlour-game
in which the players loyally stick to the rules. Where life and death are at
stake, rules and obligations go by the board. Only the absolute repudiation
of all war is of any use here. The creation of an international court of
arbitration is not enough. There must be treaties guaranteeing that the
decisions of this court shall be made effective by all the nations acting in
concert. Without such a guarantee the nations will never have the courage to
disarm seriously.

Suppose, for example, that the American, English, German, and French
Governments insisted on the Japanese Government's putting an immediate stop
to their warlike operations in China, under pain of a complete economic
boycott. Do you suppose that any Japanese Government would be found ready to
take the responsibility of plunging its country into such a perilous
adventure? Then why is it not done? Why must every individual and every
nation tremble for their existence? Because each seeks his own wretched
momentary advantage and refuses to subordinate it to the welfare and
prosperity of the community.

That is why I began by telling you that the fate of the human race was
more than ever dependent on its moral strength to-day. The way to a joyful
and happy state is through renunciation and self-limitation everywhere.

Where can the strength for such a process come from? Only from those
who have had the chance in their early years to fortify their minds and
broaden their outlook through study. Thus we of the older generation look to
you and hope that you will strive with all your might to achieve what was
denied to us.

To Sigmund Freud

Dear Professor Freud,

It is admirable the way the longing to perceive the truth has
overcome every other desire in you. You have shown with
irresistible clearness how inseparably the combative and
destructive instincts are bound up with the amative and vital ones
in the human psyche. At the same time a deep yearning for that
great consummation, the internal and external liberation of
mankind from war, shines out from the ruthless logic of your
expositions. This has been the declared aim of all those who
have been honoured as moral and spiritual leaders beyond the
limits of their own time and country without exception, from
Jesus Christ to Goethe and Kant. Is it not significant that such
men have been universally accepted as leaders, in spite of the
fact that their efforts to mould the course of human affairs were
attended with but small success?

I am convinced that the great men--those whose achievements,
even though in a restricted sphere, set them above their
fellows--are animated to an overwhelming extent by the same
ideals. But they have little influence on the course of political
events. It almost looks as if this domain, on which the fate of
nations depends, had inevitably to be given over to violence and
irresponsibility.

Political leaders or governments owe their position partly to
force and partly to popular election. They cannot be regarded as
representative of the best elements, morally and intellectually, in
their respective nations. The intellectual Хlite have no direct
influence on the history of nations in these days; their lack of
cohesion prevents them from taking a direct part in the solution
of contemporary problems. Don't you think that a change might
be brought about in this respect by a free association of people
whose work and achievements up to date constitute a guarantee
of their ability and purity of aim? This international association,
whose members would need to keep in touch with each other by
a constant interchange of opinions, might, by defining its attitude
in the Press--responsibility always resting with the signatories on
any given occasion--acquire a considerable and salutary moral
influence over the settlement of political questions. Such an
association would, of course, be a prey to all the ills which so
often lead to degeneration in learned societies, dangers which
are inseparably bound up with the imperfection of human nature.
But should not an effort in this direction be risked in spite of this?
I look upon the attempt as nothing less than an imperative duty.

If an intellectual association of standing, such as I have
described, could be formed, it would no doubt have to try to
mobilize the religious organizations for the fight against war. It
would give countenance to many whose good intentions are
paralysed to-day by a melancholy resignation. Finally, I believe
that an association formed of persons such as I have described,
each highly esteemed in his own line, would be just the thing to
give valuable moral support to those elements in the League of
Nations which are really working for the great object for which
that institution exists.

I had rather put these proposals to you than to anyone else in the
world, because you are least of all men the dupe of your desires
and because your critical judgment is supported by a most
earnest sense of responsibility.


Compulsory Service

>From a letter

Instead of permission being given to Germany to introduce compulsory
service it ought to be taken away from everybody else: in future none but
mercenary armies should be permitted, the size and equipment of which should
be discussed at Geneva. This would be better for France than to have to
permit compulsory service in Germany. The fatal psychological effect of the
military education of the people and the violation of the individual's
rights which it involves would thus be avoided.

Moreover, it would be much easier for two countries which had agreed to
compulsory arbitration for the settlement of all disputes arising out of
their mutual relations to combine their military establishments of
mercenaries into a single organization with a mixed staff. This would mean a
financial relief and increased security for both of them. Such a process of
amalgamation might extend to larger and larger combinations, and finally
lead to an "international police," which would be bound gradually to
degenerate as international security increased.

Will you discuss this proposal with our friends by way of setting the
ball rolling? Of course I do not in the least insist on this particular
proposal. But I do think it essential that we should come forward with a
positive programme; a merely negative policy is unlikely to produce any
practical results.

Germany and France

Mutual trust and co-operation between France and Germany can come about
only if the French demand for security against military attack is satisfied.
But should France frame demands in accordance with this, such a step would
certainly be taken very ill in Germany.

A procedure something like the following seems, however, to be
possible. Let the German Government of its own free will propose to the
French that they should jointly make representations to the League of
Nations that it should suggest to all member States to bind themselves to
the following:--

(1) To submit to every decision of the international court of
arbitration.

(2) To proceed with all its economic and military force, in concert
with the other members of the League, against any State which breaks the
peace or resists an international decision made in the interests of world
peace.

Arbitration

Systematic disarmament within a short period. This is possible only in
combination with the guarantee of all for the security of each separate
nation, based on a permanent court of arbitration independent of
governments.

Unconditional obligation of all countries not merely to accept the
decisions of the court of arbitration but also to give effect to them.

Separate courts of arbitration for Europe with Africa, America, and