found its best protection in the dueling pistol, and national honor could be vindicated only by slaughter and devastation. Moreover, was not the great Alabama case, which involved points very closely akin to questions of honor, settled by international arbitration, and does not this magnificent achievement form one of the most glorious pages of the common history of America and England? Truly, the two nations that accomplished this need not be afraid of unadjustable questions of honor in the future.
Indeed, there will be no recognized power behind a Court of Arbitration, like an international sheriff or other executionary force, to compel the acceptance of its decisions by an unwilling party. In this extreme case there would be, as the worst possible result, what there would have been without arbitration—war. But in how many of the fourscore cases of international arbitration we have witnessed in this century has such an enforcing power been needed? In not a single one. In every instance the same spirit which moved the contending parties to accept arbitration, moved them to accept the verdict. Why, then, borrow trouble where experience has shown that there is no danger of mischief? The most trustworthy compelling power will always be the sense of honor of the parties concerned and their respect for the enlightened judgment of civilized mankind which will watch the proceedings.
We may therefore confidently expect that a permanent system of arbitration will prove as feasible as it is desirable. Nor is there any reason to doubt that its general purpose is intelligently and warmly favored by the best public sentiment both in England and in the United States. The memorial of 233 members of the British House of Commons which, in 1887, was presented to the President and the Congress of the United States, expressing the wish that all future differences between the two countries
