The Sun SATURDAY, JULY 14, 1928. CASTING OUT DEVILS

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 400, 14 July 1928, Page 8

The Sun SATURDAY, JULY 14, 1928. CASTING OUT DEVILS

IT is an old truth that it is no use to try to cast out devils by Beelzebub. This fact explains why lords of the realm still find it necessary to discuss the possible warfare menace of a new poison gas, deadlier than any of the dozen varieties of noxious chemicals which already have been employed in war by nations claiming to be higher than apes and only a little lower than the angels. Mankind has not yet acquired the moral power to cast out the devil of war in its heart. Who has not observed the quick pugnacity of the average boy between nine and twelve years of age and appreciated its clean exercise"? The new malignant vaponr that some inspired idiot has discovered is more destructive than forked lightning and quicker than the wrath of God, because God is merciful. It is said to be so quick and deadly that, if a hostile airship were to visit this jileasant place and drop in the city a bomb filled with the latest chemical horror, the missile would kill every man, woman, child and every living thing in the area between Karangahape Road and the Waitemata waterfront. Thus, on a fine Friday night, the death roll in a minute would involve the extermination of onefourth of the community’s population. Half-a-dozen bombs, similarly charged and shrewdly distributed, could make a shambles of Greater Auckland and put an end to its transport, high rent, high cost of living, high-everything problems. Such, in a perspective for the vision of Londoners, was the vivid picture of vaporous war as outlined in the House of Lords the other day by Lord Halsbury, who, as a former major in the Royal Air Force, naturally thinks of future war in the air. Other military visionaries, according to their experience or fancy, look forward to murderous warfare in mechanical monsters or to conflict at a distance with searching, penetrative rays of light, striking and burning with a tongue of consuming fire. In the end, no doubt, the common soldier will be dug-in, in muck, seeing the war through, nonchalant, grouching, and sustained by that courage which makes one of them worth a whole parliament of mischievous politicians. The noble earl who deplored the prospect of wholesale annihilation by the Main of this new poisonous stuff was rebuked politely by the Marquess of Salisbury, Leader of the House of Lords, for indiscreet scare-mongering. The elder statesman assured his illustrious company and the nation that there really was no cause for panic. The last word had not been said about defence against poison gas. And there you have it. Those in the highest authority persist in the old faith that a Beelzebub of chemistry will be able somehow to cast out the other poison gas devil. Moreover, one must not forget the pleasant argument that the use of poison gas in war is basically humane. It is an instantaneous incapacitator! Over the nightmare canvas of gaseous war, however, international statesmen are drawing the soft, plush curtain of world peace. In other words there is beautiful talk of a noble international brotherhood and a common desire to outlaw war, to renounce the arbitrament of the sword, to unite the moral forces of the world, for the noblest of purposes, to establish peace as the enduring achievement of mankind. It is a beautiful ideal, but its beauty is as the transient glory of colour in a soap-bubble blown by an eager child in innocent play. If precious humbug can provide some happiness by all means let us all tolerate it for the excellence of its: intention, but let us at the same time be honest in realising that the present cause of temporary joy over international goodwill and pacts for the renunciation of war is* still merely magnificent humbug. It is quite fair to say that not one of the nations that are now blandly expressing approval of the American pact for the outlawry of war has any intention of discarding its armaments or discouraging the invention of new methods of effective warfare. There is genuine willingness to reduce readiness to resort to the arbitrament of the sword or the arbitrament of the submarine and poison gas bombs, but none will agree to surrender armaments or cease preparation for war in the future. It has been well said that, although man is the only animal that is kind to other animals, there is a deep-rooted prejudice among human beings against human beings. Hence the danger of war. Ruskin, the rhetorician, once said that men were prone to war because men were thieves at heart. That, of course, is too drastic, but there is something in the fact that the creatures which, in the animal world, store their treasures and practise an efficient organisation like the ants and the bees, wage war furiously. This truth ought to be noted by the extreme Spcialists. Meanwhile, the world may hope for a spell of peace and freedom from poisonous vapours.