PAX ANGLICA

Mr. Lloyd George is not often placed in the position of Cassandra, but a modest share of disbelief usually attends the prophecies of a statesman. His prediction of a "peace of the English" is not likely to prove an exception. Centuries ago a Romar, far from the golden mile-stone, was secure in a barbaric world, because the legions were eager to enforce the Pax Romana with their broadswords. While it may be true in the present age there can be no peace in the world without an understanding among the English speaking nations that war shall be prohibited yet unless England and the United States stands prepared to wield more than "more suasion," such an agreement will have little real effectiveness.

The trouble is that war is not a pastime to be laughed off with a prohibition. It arises from serious disagreement; and if the English attempt to say, "Thou shalt not war under any circumstances," they face greater difficulties in maintaining the status quo than met the Holy Alliance. There is an alternative method, that of bringing all pugilistic wrangles into a court where England shall stand judge and the United States executioner. But such a fulfillment of Mr. Lloyd George's prophecy demands world wide acceptance of English dominance, which France at least will scarcely concede.

Furthermore an about-face in American politics is necessary for any such understanding. A war in the Balkans interests the average voter as much as a Western train robbery interests a citizen of Greater Boston. President Coolidge believes it unsafe even to bring the question of a world court into the presidential campaign; a question of joining the English commonwealths to stop hostilities between Bulgaria and the Communists might become even more of a political football.