HIS CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTIONS

Dominion, Volume 9, Issue 2826, 18 July 1916, Page 6

HIS CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTIONS

A RAILWAY INTERLUDE (By "Wi.") The individual who sat opposite to me in the railway carriage had something on his mind. He glared at his paper, put it down, made faces out of the window, drummed his fingers on tho arm of his seat, and finally cleared his throat. 1' knew, instinctively, what was going to happen. He was about to confide in me. Nearly eveiy third man who gets something on his mind becomes seized with an insane desire to share that something with somebody else. Funny, isn't, it? X reconnoitred over tho edge of my paper, and he immediately iiiipaled my shrinking gaze with his eye. It was the eye of a fanatic. "Excuse, me, sir," he said. 1 laid down my paper. "Certainly," said I. "This military service business," he said, jabbing his forefinger at his paper, "what do you think of it?" 1 replied, diplomatically, that I hadn't studied the details, but, 1 hazarded, the application of the general principle espoused, by tho measure seemed to me lo be timely; if not long overdue. "Then you are a conscriptionist?" lie said, with, veiled menace in his voice. ■ "It doesn't seem to bo much good being anything else, those days, does it?" "I am, sir," lie said with iinpressemciifc, "a, conscientious objector." "Indeed! Have a cigarette?" "No, thank you. I don't smoke." "Of course not—l mean, that is to say —you do not believe in conscription?" "I do not believe in war, in Woodshed, in the taking of human lifo, in killing a man whom you never saw in your lifo before you fired at him," ho said, rcciting his creed. "I see. • Then, I suppose, jou think that wo have no business to be fighting at all?" "Nono whatever." "That is to say, if I sneaked into your house one dark night, flourished a revolver in jpur face, threatened to kill your wife anil children, and steal all vonr valuables, you wouldn't say a -word?" "I would at once summon tho police," said he. . ' "I see," said I. "And suppose, for the sake of argument, that I allowed you to summon tho police—l might kill you, you fcnuw, and yon would be too dead to do anything—but suppose, let us say, that we had the police along, and I .i-csisted. Instead of putting up my hands and promising to »o quietly, and fill that sort of thing, I still persisted in flourishing my revolver—one'of those automatic greasedlightning perforators, you know—and threatened to shoot the very first policeman who as much as moved an cTclid, what, then ?" "They might shoot you instead," said he. I gazed pensively out of the window, and puffed at my cigarette. "Yes," said I, atlast, "so tliey might." "Wo cannot allow armed law-breakers to prey on society -unmolested," liepoint,ed out. "No," I agreed, "I suppose it would hardly do, would it?" "My clear sir, there would bo an end to civilisation, if we did." "Wherefor, lot us Tct.nrn thanks for tho police," I said, piously. "Anil the Army," I added.

'fEh, what's that?" "Also " I continued, "let us -be properly grateful for tho Navy, and return thfraks likewise."

"Now, you aro talking of war,", he interrupted, and - the old familiar gleam once more returned to his eye. "Same old game," I murmured, lighting another cigarette. - u '^ ar d°n me," ho said, warming up, the two things aro totally different." I shook my head 6low'ly. "It's the Fanio old game," I repeated. "Two minutes you rejoiced in the fact that if I attempted to hold you up with a revolver tho polico might shoot nip. I waived the practical difficulty that a corpse couldn't summon the polico to begin with, and we both agreed that the polico, as an institution, wero a very good thing for tho community. You wouldn t shoot me yourself, you said becausethat would have been against your principles, but, apparently, you had no objection to handing over the job to somebody else." 'Who said,testily-all fanatics ar» apt to be testy— that is what tho polico aro for. Wo pay taxes for thai -very purpose.' J

"You don't object to paying taxes to buy uniforms, and, truncheons, 'and revolvers for tho policc?'' "Revolvers '

Oh, yes great big ones they arc, loo." Ho shifted his ground. "But that has nothing to do with war," ho objected, lhats not fightmg and killing." It sometimes is, 1 ' I said. "You had me shot a lew minutes ago, remember. There was sonio shooting, wasn't there wlion the police arrested Rua tho other day ?

1 T (l crnn £ Iv A r i> as war/' Quito so. A blackguard tries to hold -up jonr house. You summon the police. A whole nation of blackguards trid to hold up tho civilised world, practically, and we summon—tho army, and the navy. Wo find that our army is not big enough—not by millions—and these blackguards march along, killing off our 6oldiors, committing unspeakable outrages on women and children, burning our dwellings, and stealing our property. By-and-by we come to tho conclusion, -when it v is almost too late, that if every able-bodied citizen doesnt pick up a rifle and give the old Motherland a hand, theso German blackguards will be here, in New Zealand committing tho samo hellish crimcs that in Europo havo made civilisation pale with horror. Now, ;.ir, don't you, .consider it your duty to fight these inter' national scoundrels?" , "I have conscientious objections to fighting," he said, simply. "Would your conscientious objections forbid you to take a job in a war factory and make bullets!" "Most decidedly," he said, with fanatical emphasis. "I would be an accossorv if I did." i "I see," said I. "Well, now, look here Lot's suppose that these German blackguards—you admit they're blackguards, don't you?" "Most certainly." "Well," .1 continued, "let's suppose that these German blackguards, by some totally unexpected development in this war, were able to come along and 'invade this country." "It would be the will of Providence," he interrupted, "and a judgment upon us." I sighed. "You would still refuse to fight?" "Yes." "Or make bullets for your fellow count'rvmen to light with?" ' "Yes." "Or do anything, jn fact, which in toot opinion, was connected with fighting?" "Absolutely." "You would, in fact, submit to the invasion, and all that Hun invaders do, without striking a blow?" i "Yes." "Let others do it for you?" "If other people choose to fight—to do that which I consider wrong—why should I desert my principles?" The man was arguing in a circle. In topical parlance, ho was defending his position, as the Germans are doing, by his interior lines. I resolved upon a coup-dc-main. "Do you believe," I said,

"as some' people do, that the Germans won't molest conscientious objectors or their families?"

"William Penn and his followers lived for years in tho midst of Indian savajes unmolested, because they held the views that T hold to-day. I believe that if everybody acted accordingly, there would be no more wars."

"Well." said I, "let us suppose that the Huns have arrived in this country, and that you and your family are safe from outrage. You stroll out in youv garden some fine nioruTng at peace with mankind—even with the Huns—and suddenly your peaceful tranouillitv of mind is upset by flic shriclcs of a woman and tho piteous cries of children. You look over your neighbour's fence, and a dreadful spectacle rivets your gaze. Your neighbour is lying across the garden' path, dead, and his children and womenfolk are at the absolute mercy of a band of drunken German beasts. Do yon mean to tell mo that you wouldn't even as much as cast a half-

brick at the skull of the nearest of those blackguards? Hang it, mau, think

' AFy dear sir," he said, solemnly, "are yon <1 bolievor in the cfficacy of prayer?" He was off on the circle again! ( "Under the circumstances," said I, "and without desiring to - convey the least irreverence, I should much preler to believe in the efficacy of the halfbrick—or, better still, a good rifle and a plentiful supply of ammunition. Don't you see that the best thing 'we can do for Christianity to-dav is to offer our lives for it?"

He smd nothing, but the fanatical gleam remained in his eye. tt "Apparently, you doiiV I said. 'choose to swear allegiance to a fanatical minority that prefers to enjoy unearned the blessings of British freedom and Christian righteousness which other people have fought and died for, and are fighting and dying for to-day. Good morning." Then I got out. and went to work.