That is why I venture to put in a humble, although I fear belated, plea for the reading of the text, the whole text, and nothing but the text, of the Treaty of Versailles. Herein lies the only fair way of arriving at a just conclusion on the merits of a treaty which holds in its hands the destiny of Europe for many a generation.
The year nineteen hundred and twenty-two witnessed a genuine struggle on the part of the nations to re-establish peace conditions in the world.
During 1919-20 and 1921 "the tarantella was still in their blood." The mad war dance was still quivering in their limbs and they could not rest. The crackle of musketry was incessant and made needful repose impossible. There was not a country in Europe or Asia whose troops were not firing shots in anger at some external or internal foe.
America rang down the fire curtain until this hysterical frenzy had burnt itself out. Was she right? It is too early yet to give the answer. The case is but yet "part heard"--many witnessing years whose evidence is relevant have not yet entered the box: it will, therefore, be some time before the verdict of history as to her attitude can be delivered.
But 1922 testifies to many striking symptoms of recovering sanity on the part of the tortured continents. Before 1922 you had everywhere the querulity of the overstrained nerve. The slightest offence or misunderstanding, however unintentional, provoked a quarrel, and almost every quarrel was followed by a blow. It was a mad world to live in. The shrieks of clawing nations rent the European night and made it hideous. A distinguished general declared that at one period--I think it was the year of grace 1920--there were thirty wars, great and small, proceeding simultaneously. Who was to blame? Everybody and nobody. Mankind had just passed through the most nerve-shattering experience in all its racking history, and it was not responsible for its actions. Millions of young men had for years marched through such a pitiless rain of terror as had not been conceived except in Milton's description of the battle scenes when the fallen angels were driven headlong to the deep. And when the Angel of Peace led the nations out from the gates of hell, no wonder it took them years to recover sight and sanity. Nineteen twenty-two was a year of restored composure.