that the people should hold the Senate accountable for the way it exercises its Constitutional power, that citizens should let the Senate know their opinion and insist that in dealing with each treaty it must not be swayed by personal or partisan considerations, but only by the sense of responsibility to the Nation as a whole.

At present the Senate has before it as important a body of treaties as it was ever called upon to consider. Those treaties are the outcome of the Armament Conference, which was held in accord with the Senate's own advice. In that Conference the Senate was represented by leaders of both parties. The course of that Conference was known to the Senate from the beginning to the end. During the Conference the negotiations were appreciably affected by the expressions of opinion in the Senate. The committees of the Conference made public their proceedings to an extent not always true of the committees of the Senate itself. If the Senate is not well acquainted with the details, not only of the treaties which are before it, but also of the negotiations by means of which they were framed, it is not for lack of opportunity. Those treaties have been subjected to the scrutiny of the Senate's Committee on Foreign Relations and approved, with one immaterial reservation, by that Committee. There is every reason, therefore, for public opinion to expect the Senate to pass upon these treaties promptly with an intelligent understanding of them.

Although these treaties have not been formally "intertwined," they constitute in fact a single whole. They can be considered separately. Some could conceivably be rejected and others accepted. In substance, however, they are so related to one another that the omission of any one of them would greatly impair the value of the others.

Of them all the treaty which is essential to the success of the policy which they represent is the one known as the Four-Power Treaty concerning the islands of the Pacific. If that is approved, the others will put into operation an experiment which has a reasonable chance of success. If that is disapproved, the others can scarcely be more than palliatives and can certainly not be depended upon to make any fundamental change in the conditions which portend conflict in the Far East. What makes this Four-Power Treaty essential to any new and better policy in the Far East is the fact that if it goes into effect it will put an end to the menacing military alliance between Great Britain and Japan.

When that alliance was first made, both Great Britain and Japan had reason

to fear the encroachment of Imperialist Russia. For generations Great Britain has followed a consistent policy of checking the rise of rival Powers which might threaten the safety of her Empire. For this purpose she has found it convenient to associate herself now with one nation or group of nations, now with another, which for the time being have interests in common with her. It was in pursuit of this policy that she entered into the alliance with Japan. At that time this alliance was not only in the interest of Great Britain, but also in the interest of the peace of the world. It is true, it did not prevent the Russo-Japanese War, but it did prevent that war from involving other nations and possibly becoming a world war. With the defeat of Russia the alliance between Great Britain and Japan would have ceased to serve any good end if it had not been for the growth of the aggressive spirit in Prussianized Germany. It was most

fortunate for Britain that that alliance was in force at the beginning of the World War in 1914. It relieved Britain of much anxiety concerning the situation in the Pacific. At this time of Britain's need Japan proved to be a faithful and efficient ally. She was the chief instrument in clearing the Pacific of the Germans. For the performance of her duties there she secured from her allies a pledge of reward. As a consequence, Japan's power in the Far East rapidly became paramount. She had never before had so free a hand. She was able to dictate to China her own will in peremptory terms. She strengthened her hold in Manchuria and virtually occupied, as a conqueror would occupy, a large part of Siberia. Secure from interference by Great Britain by virtue of this Anglo-Japanese Alliance, she assumed an attitude much like that of Prussia before the war. Indeed, in military matters and in large measure in the conduct of foreign affairs Japan molded herself upon the German model. Many of those in control of Japan's foreign policies were frankly admirers of Germany, and were able to direct Japan's course in accordance with the doctrine of militarism because the alliance with Britain freed them from restraint.

This situation occasioned some concern in Britain, no little alarm in the British Dominions, and much suspicion in America. Men of foresight in Britain were not altogether pleased to find themselves in alliance with a Power that threatened to gain domination over Asia where Britain's interests lay. Australian's and New Zealanders did not like to find themselves in alliance with an Asiatic Power whose encroachments they feared, but at the same time saw no protection against that Asiatic Power apart from an alliance with it. And Americans, though repeatedly assured that the alliance was not directed against their country, saw no good in a military partnership between the greatest naval Power in the Atlantic on one side of them, and the greatest Power in the Pacific on the other side.

When the Armament Conference met at Washington, this situation was the greatest obstacle to a good understanding between America, Britain, and Japan. What Japan had done to China and to Siberia when her freedom of action was unlimited, except by the remonstrances of America herself, did not promise well for future peace in the Far East. The agreements made in that Conference for the limitation of naval armaments and for respecting the integrity of China and the rights of all nations without discrimination in China modify the situation of themselves, but

do not supplant it with another. As long as the Anglo-Japanese Alliance stands, as long as the militarist party of Japan has the free hand which the alliance with Britain gives them, so long will the situation in the Far East remain essentially unchanged.

It is the Four-Power Treaty which Changes the situation. It does this by abolishing the Anglo-Japanese Alliance and substituting for it, not an alliance directed against any nation, but an understanding between four Powers to respect one another's rights, and in case of any dispute to confer. Instead of an attempt to threaten the use of force, which is the essence of an alliance, this is an attempt to remove the fear which occasions force. As Colonel Vestal in his book on "The Maintenance of Peace" says: "The actual motive for conquest has in it oftentimes an element of fear; for the nation which attempts conquest is often in fear lest it should itself be conquered, if it does not secure itself by conquering its neighbors beforehand." This Four-Power mutual pledge for the respect of one another's rights, not only thus abolishes a menacing alliance, but also removes that fear which serves as a reason, or excuse, for domination.

The United States Senate ought to be under no misapprehension as to the effect of its vote upon this treaty. A vote against the treaty is a vote for an alliance-a vote, in fact, for an alliance in which America has no part. A vote for the treaty is a vote, not only against this alliance, but against all alliances in the Far East. If the treaty is adopted, the Anglo-Japanese Alliance is at an end; if it is not adopted, the Anglo-Japanese Alliance will continue and will have added significance by the very fact of the rejection of its substitute.

We can hardly believe that the country wishes the Senate to say virtually to Creat Britain and Japan: "We decline to promise to respect your rights; we do

not wish in any case of dispute even to confer with you; and we prefer that you should keep up your military partnership."

INTERCOLLEGIATE

T

ATHLETICS

HE football scandal at the Universities of Illinois and Notre Dame was perhaps a deciding factor in reopening the whole question of the handling of college athletics. The present discussion has naturally centered about the game of football. President Lowell, of Harvard, in his annual report, conservatively stated the problem in the following words:

The present policy in college football has not been the result of a deliberate plan. It has grown up by a consideration of the questions presented year by year, and is not based upon any principle recognized as imperative by faculties, alumni, and spectators. The public interest in the sport, as a spectacle, has become general over the country, and has inIt creased markedly since the war. has tended to give excessive importance to college athletic contests. That intercollegiate matches have a distinct value in stimulating sports, which are the best form of physical exercise in youth, few people would be inclined to deny; but the single boat race between Oxford and Cambridge on the Thames, and the cricket match between those universities, supplemented in each case by a series of intramural contests, has been enough to stimulate unflagging interest in those sports among the students. Judging from the effect of the race at New London, one may ask whether or not the same plan would be sufficient in football. The necessity of maintaining for this purpose a public spectacle attended by thousands of spectators every Saturday throughout the autumn is certainly not clear; and whether it ought to be maintained for any other object is a matter worth consideration. Like many other questions touching the direction of undergraduate life, this is one that affects all American col

leges, and it would be well for facul-
ties, administrators, and governing
bodies to consider afresh the proper
place of public intercollegiate ath-
letic contests in the scheme of
education.

Elsewhere in this issue we publish an address by President Meiklejohn, of Amherst College, in which he discusses briefly and pertinently the main issues confronting our educational institutions in their handling of the athletic problem.

Certainly, so far as football is concerned, the leading institutions have progressed towards better standards in the past few years-standards which, if adhered to, would do much towards settling the present controversy. It seems to us that the rule which requires one year of attendance at a college before a player can represent his institution is sound and essential. Το this should be added, we believe, a rule forbidding an athlete to represent more than one institution of collegiate rank in the course of his educational career. Such a rule would put a stop to the tramp athlete and the temptation to shift colleges for the sake of athletic prestige. Strict adherence to these two rules, plus the dropping from intercollegiate relationships of any institution which did not live up to strict amateur standards, would cure many of the present evils.

As President Meiklejohn points out, the overdevelopment of the coaching system cannot be controlled by the action of any one institution. It can be controlled and regulated, just as the competition in naval armaments has been regulated, by the action of a joint conference. The "Yale News" has already come forward with a suggestion for such joint action on the part of Harvard, Yale, and Princeton-a suggestion which ought to bear good fruit. Such a conference between these natural and historic rivals would have a farreaching influence upon intercollegiate relationships throughout the country.

Judas it is necessary to rely somewhat upon surmise, since no one of the Evangelists has attempted any analysis of his enigmatical character.

Judas of Kerioth, a small village about thirty miles south of Jerusalem, was the only Judean among the twelve. Presumably he belonged by birth and education to the priestly party, was often at the Temple, and was trained from his earliest youth in reverence for its sacrificial services, certainly shared in the universal expectations of a temporal Messiah and in the almost universal prejudice which looked with rancor upon the Gentile world. The brief glimpses we obtain of his life indicate that he was in temperament hard, sensuous, materialistic, and was possessed of the too common vice of the descendants of Jacob, avarice. He became the treasurer of the little company, and, according to John, was not always honest in the management of his trust.

So long as Christ preached only, "The kingdom of God is at hand," Judas followed him, undoubting. His faith that he would soon share in the glories of the expected kingdom was the common faith of all. It is evident from various incidents that Peter expressed the feeling of the twelve by his naïve question: "We have forsaken all and followed thee; what therefore shall we have?" When Christ refused the proffered crown, Judas was perplexed; when he told the people that it was only by death he could enter into his kingdom, Judas showed signs of disappointment that did not escape the sensitive heart of John; when in distincter language Jesus prophesied his crucifixion, Judas, we may be sure, approved Peter's rebuke of the Master; when Jesus uttered his first philippic against the Pharisees, Judas would be one of the first to instigate, if not himself to utter, the caution, "Knowest thou that the Pharisees were offended?" Such teachings of Jesus as the parable of the rich fool, and that of Dives and Lazarus, and his rejection of the rich young ruler, Judas would have resented if he understood them.

His religious prejudices must also have been often shocked-by Christ's indifference to the Temple and its sacrificial system; by his disregard of the ceremonial regulations which orthodox Judaism had added to the simple moral code of primitive Judaism; by his repeated rebukes of the priestly party; and by his repeated condemnation of race prejudice in such teachings as the parable of the Good Samaritan and the Prodigal Son.

With the continuance of Christ's ministry the conflict in the soul of Judas became increasingly bitter. Jesus thronged with admirers, promising his disciples to sit on twelve thrones, riding in triumphal procession into Jerusalem, Judas was proud to follow; but he had no use for a Messiah sitting at meat with the despised Zaccheus, exiled from Judea, mobbed from the synagogue,

stoned from the Temple, foretelling his own cruel death and inviting his followers to share his cross with him.

Christ's teachings on Tuesday in the Temple put an end to this conflict in the soul of Judas. In those teachings Jesus made it clear that the kingdom of God was not a Jewish kingdom; the vineyard was to be taken from Judah and given to heathen nations; her house was to be left to her desolate. In the revelations of that hour the dream of Judas vanished. He seemed to himself the victim of an unwarrantable delusion. He rehearsed in his mind the repeated promises of the Master, and forgot the warnings and interpretations which accompanied them. He was the victim of an unwarrantable delusion, but it was that of his own selfish and sensuous imagination.

To abandon a failing cause, to return to Judaism because Christianity had nothing to offer to him, to return emptyhanded and confessing failure, was more than the sensitive ambition of Judas could endure. But why return emptyhanded? For over two years the Judaic party had sought in vain the charmed life of the Galilean rabbi. He that should destroy for Judaism this young Goliath who had defied it, would he not receive the hosannas of victory from priest and from people? Judas saw himself crowned by the party of his youth and the vote of the Chief Council. This. not the paltry sum of thirty pieces of silver, was the price his imagination offered him for the betrayal of his Lord. He forgot that always the reward of treachery is scorn-scorn heaviest from those who profit by it. So did Arnold forget. So does every traitor.

Gradually resentment developed into revenge. His dark thoughts, gradually as they had grown, carefully as they had been hidden under an almost impenetrable reserve, Jesus had divined. More than once he had told his disciples, "The Son of man shall be betrayed." The disciples on such occasions looked with wondering suspicion at each other; most of all perhaps at Judas, who was not a Galilean. If these occasions did not reveal Judas to the twelve, they revealed him to himself. Did the Master hope that such indication to Judas of the path he was traveling would cause him to turn back? It had a contrary effect. Judas writhed in angrier indignation, because he understood the application and the justice of the warning.

Such was his state of mind when a very simple incident crystalized growing design into an instant and welldefined resolve. On the return of Jesus from the conflicts in the Temple to the home of Martha and Mary, they made an entertainment for him; Judas of course was among the guests. The supper was Martha's homage to Jesus. After the supper Mary offered him hers -a box of very valuable ointment. With it she anointed the head of Jesus, the remainder she poured on Jesus' feet. Judas forgot his careful reticence, and

openly condemned the waste. He even succeeded in communicating his sentiments to some of the other disciples. Christ sharply rebuked the rebuker. "Let her alone," he said. Then he added, with infinite pathos, "She hath done this to my burial."

The rebuke thus administered to Judas was less severe than the one which Jesus had not long before administered to Peter. But impulsive love was the keynote to Peter's character; self-love was the master passion of the soul of Judas. Love accepts any rebuke; selflove submits to none. Judas escaped at the earliest moment from the room, sought some of the chief priests and communicated to them his readiness to betray his former Master. Even in the excitement of that hour he did not forget his ruling passion. The priests agreed to pay him thirty shekels for his service. The die was cast, and Judas only awaited the opportunity to fulfill his design.

I need not here retell the familiar story of the betrayal. The crime was committed when the bargain was made, and here it is the crime of Judas which concerns us.

In the seventh chapter of Romans Paul has told the story of a similar conflict in his own soul between the flesh and the spirit. "I do not understand," he says, "why I act as I do. For what I would, that I do not; and what I hate, that I do." What reader of this article does not know that experience? Only a very perfect saint or a hopelessly hardened sinner can be wholly ignorant of it. Christ warned his disciples of the peril of such a divided life in the saying, "Ye cannot serve God and Mammon." But the persistent endeavor to do the impossible is not uncommon. Amiel pictures the spirit of allegiance to the world graphically. "All the world' is the greatest of powers; it is sovereign and calls itself we. We dress, we dine, we walk, we go out, we come in, like this and not like that. This we is always right, whatever it does. . . . What we does or says is called custom, what it thinks is called opinion, what it believes to be beautiful or good is called fashion."

Whoever accepts we as his sovereign in business, in politics, and in society during the week and endeavors to appease his conscience by adoring Christ as his sovereign in church services on Sunday; whoever, professing to accept Christ's principles as his guide, compromises them in a vain endeavor to make them harmonize with the custom, the opinion, and the fashion of the time, has entered on the path which Judas trod to its tragic end. Paul found escape by his faith in a pardoning and life-giving God. Judas surrendered to his demon, and then tried to flee from himself by endeavoring to flee from life. To what by his suicide did he flee? At death the impenetrable curtain falls. We do not know.