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International Relations
and Political Philosophy
Martin Wight was one of the most important twentieth century British scholars
of International Relations. He taught at the London School of Economics
(1949–1961) and the University of Sussex (1961–1972), where he served as the
founding Dean of the School of European Studies. Wight is often associated with
the British Committee on the Theory of International Politics and the so-called
English School of International Relations.
David S. Yost is a Distinguished Professor Emeritus, US Naval Postgraduate
School. His books have been published by Harvard University Press, the United
States Institute of Peace, and the International Institute for Strategic Studies. He
has held fellowships from Fulbright, NATO, the Council on Foreign Relations, the
Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars, and the United States
Institute of Peace.
Cover image: photo-nuke/Shutterstock.com

International Relations
and Political Philosophy
M A RT I N W IG H T
Edited by
DAV I D S . YO ST
Foreword by
IA N HA L L
1
1
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This book is dedicated to the memory of Gabriele Wight, with immense
gratitude for her extraordinary patience and generous support.
Foreword
Ian Hall
Griffith University, Brisbane, Australia
Martin Wight was born in 1913, as conflict loomed in Europe, and died in 1972,
as war raged in Indochina. He lived to see the formation and collapse of the
League of Nations and then the devastation wrought by the struggle to defeat
Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan. He was a first-hand witness to the advent of
the United Nations, attending its inaugural sessions in 1946 as a correspondent
for David Astor’s newspaper, The Observer. Like so many of his contemporaries,
he was shocked by the use of the atomic bomb and dismayed by both the onset of
the Cold War and the threat of nuclear Armageddon. And from a distance—albeit
armed with intimate knowledge of colonial administration gleaned from several
years working with the great Africanist, Margery Perham—he watched the post-
war dissolution of the British Empire, the narrowing of his country’s horizons and
influence, and the emergence of an alternative European future for the
British nation.
In his scholarship, his teaching, and in other, more personal writings, Wight
tried—and sometimes struggled—to make sense of all this destruction and dis-
ruption, which shaped the emergence of a very different world to the one into
which he had been born. Some of this work was contemporary history, focused
on explaining how and why recent events had unfolded as they had, with political
leaders, their perceptions, and the ideas they espoused, in the foreground of those
explanations.1 But most of his work delved much deeper, trying to get at the roots
of the malaise afflicting politics and international relations in the twentieth cen-
tury. Throughout, Wight insisted that the crisis enfolding around him could not
be understood with the limited tools and materials available to the contemporary
historian, the journalist, or even the modern social scientist. Their access to key
protagonists and official records was too limited and they were too often prone to
get caught up in the passions and prejudices of the moment. But just as import
antly, they were not really equipped, even if they were inclined, to analyse what
Wight believed were the underlying causes.
Doing that meant putting things in their proper historical and philosophical
places. It meant stepping back from immediate controversies and passions and
setting aside commitments and prejudices, insofar as it is ever possible to do so. It
1 See, for example, Wight’s contributions to Arnold J. Toynbee and F. T. Ashton-Gwatkin (eds),
Survey of International Affairs, 1939–1946: The World in March 1939 (London: Oxford University
Press and Royal Institute of International Affairs, 1952).
viii Foreword
did not mean complete disengagement or passivity, as some have suggested, how-
ever much Wight was tempted to ‘retire within the sphere of private life and per-
sonal relationships and cultivate one’s garden’.2 Scholars could and should make
their voices heard in the world, he argued. And here, as elsewhere, he practised
what he preached, conversing with politicians and civil servants at Chatham
House or meetings of the British Committee on the Theory of International
Politics and writing letters to The Times.
Nevertheless, Wight was convinced that if they wanted properly to compre-
hend the world, scholars needed to ‘escape’, as he put it in a famous passage, ‘from
the Zeitgeist, from the mean, narrow, provincial spirit . . . assuring us that we are at
the peak of human achievement, that we stand on the edge of unprecedented
prosperity or an unparalleled catastrophe; that the next summit conference is
going to be the most fateful in history’. To attain a deeper understanding of what
was going on around them, they needed to ‘acquire perspective, to recognize that
every generation is confronted by problems of the utmost subjective urgency, . . .to
learn that the same moral predicaments and the same ideas have been explored
before’.3 For Wight, this involved more than just mastering the insular preoccupa-
tions of a modern academic discipline. He was convinced—at some professional
cost, in terms of what he was able to write—that nothing less than complete
immersion in the political, philosophical, historical, literary, and archival inherit-
ance of a civilization would do.4 Only then could we begin to see how the ideas
that had shaped the modern world emerged and how the West, in particular, had
come to embrace the worldviews that motivated and legitimized the extraordin
ary brutality it had inflicted on itself and others in the twentieth century. And
only then, too, could we develop responses that might strengthen international
order and allow the pursuit of justice.
The work in this rich volume reflects all of these concerns. Wight read and
took seriously what we might call disciplinary scholarship on international rela-
tions, as reviews included in this book demonstrate. He found the political real-
ists—among them Raymond Aron, E. H. Carr, Friedrich Meinecke,
Hans J. Morgenthau, and Kenneth W. Thompson—by far the most congenial
allies. Like Wight, they were historically minded and well-read in ancient and
modern philosophy, as well as the great texts of political theory. Like Wight too,
they were sceptical of the sweeping claims made by contemporary social
2 Martin Wight, International Theory: The Three Traditions, ed. Gabriele Wight and Brian Porter
(Leicester: Leicester University Press, 1991), p. 257. Michael Nicolson argued that Wight advocated
passivity in ‘The Enigma of Martin Wight’, Review of International Studies, 7(1) (1981), pp. 15–22.
3 Wight, International Theory, p. 6, quoted in Hedley Bull, ‘Martin Wight and the Theory of
International Relations: The Second Martin Wight Memorial Lecture’, British Journal of International
Studies, 2(2) (1976), p. 113.
4 This view is clearest in Martin Wight, ‘European Studies’, in David Daiches (ed.) The Idea of a
New University: An Experiment in Sussex (London: André Deutsch, 1964), pp. 100–119.
Foreword ix
scientists, especially the behaviouralists, represented in the field and in this col-
lection by Morton Kaplan.5
It would not be fair, however, to label Wight a ‘realist’. He held that we ought to
be realistic about human weakness and the problems that it frequently generates.
But that belief was personal—a matter of faith, indeed, integral to his strongly
held religious convictions.6 At the same time, he believed that just and reasonable
political and international orders could be constructed and sustained. Despite
what some might see as an unflattering assessment of human nature, Wight was
no cynical Machiavellian. He recognized the allure of power politics for leaders
and the short-term gains that could be had through realism.7 But he was also
convinced that power politics were in the end self-defeating, producing cycle
after cycle of violence without end. Lasting and tolerable orders required a differ-
ent kind of politics and diplomacy, which aimed higher, at nurturing an element
of trust and ensuring a measure of justice, even in international relations.
The majority of the essays in this book concentrate on how such orders were
constructed in the past and indeed on how such orders have been undermined.
They are underpinned by the assumption—one that many social scientists may
question—that social, political, and international orders are products of ideas and
institutions. Wight was convinced that orders rose and fell as different ideas about
how they ought to be arranged emerged and died away. They informed the ways
in which human agents constructed social institutions to manage social chal-
lenges—institutions that were also particular to their time and place.
Understanding these orders and the ideas that shaped them was, to Wight’s mind,
the proper task of the scholar of international relations. It was that conviction that
led him to dissect different concepts of the balance of power, competing theories
of international order, and various concepts of legitimacy, in particular.
Wight never completed a major work laying out either his approach to the
study of international relations or his intellectual history of what he called inter-
national society. Power Politics, the slim pamphlet produced for Chatham House
in 1946, provides a taut preliminary sketch of what that might have looked like.8
Systems of States, published posthumously in 1977, is a collection of essays, while
International Theory: The Three Traditions, is a reconstitution of lectures delivered
at the London School of Economics in the 1950s.9 Together with Wight’s contri-
butions to Diplomatic Investigations, a product of the British Committee, they
5 See Wight’s review of Kaplan’s Systems and Process in International Politics (1957) in this volume.
6 Ian Hall, The International Thought of Martin Wight (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006),
pp. 21–42.
7 See, for example, Wight’s extended discussion of Adolf Hitler’s realism in ‘Germany’, in Toynbee
and Ashton-Gwatkin (eds) Survey of International Affairs, 1939–1946, pp. 293–365.
8 Martin Wight, Power Politics, Looking Forward Pamphlet no. 8 (London: Chatham House, 1946).
A revised version, using updated material Wight wrote during the 1960s and early 1970s, was pub-
lished in 1978.
9 Martin Wight, Systems of States, ed. Hedley Bull (London and Leicester: Leicester University
Press, 1977) and Wight, International Theory.
x Foreword
have long constituted the bulk of his work on international relations theory read-
ily accessible to readers.
In this volume, David Yost has performed the great service of gathering some
of Wight’s well-known work on what he aptly terms the political philosophy of
international relations with both significant unpublished essays and less readily
available writings and reviews. They include papers delivered to the British
Committee that have languished in the archives for more than half a century, but
which address perennial themes like ‘statesmanship’ and immediate challenges
like the communist theory of international relations. They include too studies of
legitimacy that make clear Wight’s lasting concern with that problem and its rela-
tionship to issues of authority, order, and justice in past international society and
its strained and fraying modern counterpart. And they encompass reviews of
works by a series of important contemporaries, like Meinecke and Morgenthau,
in which Wight evaluated their arguments and provided insights into his own.
Together, they allow the reader to explore the full range of this extraordinary
scholar’s work as he wrestled not just with the legacy of Western political thought
and practice, but also with the great upheavals of the twentieth century that elem
ents of that inheritance had helped to bring about.
Preface: Martin Wight’s Scholarly Stature
Martin Wight (1913–1972) was, as Sir Adam Roberts remarked, ‘perhaps the
most profound thinker on international relations of his generation of British
academics’.* 1
Wight’s professional career may be summed up as a series of distinguished
affiliations: graduation from Hertford College, Oxford, with first class honours in
modern history in 1935; research staff at the Royal Institute of International
Affairs, 1937–1938; senior history master at Haileybury College, 1938–1941;
research staff at Nuffield College, Oxford, 1941–1946; diplomatic and United
Nations correspondent for The Observer, London, 1946–1947; research staff at the
Royal Institute of International Affairs, 1947–1949; reader in international rela-
tions, London School of Economics, 1949–1961; visiting professor, University of
Chicago, 1956–1957; and professor of history and founding dean of the School of
European Studies, University of Sussex (1961–1972).2
A man of wide-ranging interests and great learning, with a command of Greek
and Latin as well as modern European languages, Wight wrote about British colo-
nial history, European studies, international institutions, the history and soci
ology of states-systems, the philosophy of history, religious faith and history, and
the theory and philosophy of international politics (notably with regard to ethics,
ideology, the balance of power, and the causes of war), among other subjects.
Much of his influence has stemmed from his lectures on the theory and philoso
phy of international politics at the London School of Economics in the 1950s.
* This preface borrows from David S. Yost, ‘Introduction: Martin Wight and Philosophers of War
and Peace’, in Martin Wight, Four Seminal Thinkers in International Theory: Machiavelli, Grotius, Kant
and Mazzini, edited by Gabriele Wight and Brian Porter (London: Oxford University Press, 2005).
1 Adam Roberts, ‘Foreword’, in Martin Wight, International Theory: The Three Traditions, edited by
Gabriele Wight and Brian Porter (Leicester and London: Leicester University Press for the Royal
Institute of International Affairs, 1991), p. xxiv.
2 The most valuable sources on Martin Wight’s life and professional career include the two studies
by Hedley Bull: ‘Introduction: Martin Wight and the Study of International Relations’, in Martin
Wight, Systems of States (London: Leicester University Press, 1977), pp. 1–20; and ‘Martin Wight and
the Theory of International Relations’, British Journal of International Studies, 2(2) (1976), pp. 101–116;
the chapter entitled ‘Martin Wight (1913–1972): The Values of Western Civilization’, in
Kenneth W. Thompson, Masters of International Thought: Major Twentieth-Century Theorists and the
World Crisis (Baton Rouge and London: Louisiana State University Press, 1980), pp. 44–61; the chap-
ter entitled ‘Martin Wight’ in Tim Dunne, Inventing International Society: A History of the English
School (Basingstoke and London: Macmillan Press, 1998), pp. 47–70; the entry by Harry G. Pitt in the
Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (2004), http://www.oxforddnb.com/view/article/38935; the
book by Ian Hall, The International Thought of Martin Wight (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006);
and the survey by Ian Hall, ‘Martin Wight: A Biographical Overview of his Life and Work’, available at
the website of the Martin Wight Memorial Trust, http://www.mwmt.co.uk.
xii Preface: Martin Wight ’ s Scholarly Stature
Wight’s continuing prominence has also derived from the attention accorded
to the ‘English School’ since the 1980s. He is widely regarded as an intellectual
ancestor and path-breaker of the ‘English School’ of international relations, even
though he did not employ this term.3 The term ‘English School’ did not arise until
nine years after Wight’s death, when it was given currency by Roy Jones in a
polemical article in 1981.4 There seems to be no generally accepted definition of
the English School, however. The term is usually construed as signifying an
approach to the study of international politics more rooted in historical and
humanistic learning than in the social sciences. Wight’s achievements are consist-
ent with this broad definition.
Some observers trace the English School’s origins to the work in the mid-1950s
and beyond of the British Committee on the Theory of International Politics, to
which Wight made major contributions, along with Herbert Butterfield, Adam
Watson, Hedley Bull, and others. In this regard, the subtitle of Brunello Vigezzi’s
comprehensive study is telling: The British Committee on the Theory of
International Politics (1954–1985): The Rediscovery of History.5 However, Tim
Dunne’s informative study of the English School devotes a chapter to E. H. Carr,
who was not a member of this committee. As Dunne points out, Carr played a
role in fostering the emergence of the English School by ‘broadening the discip
line away from its legal institutionalist origins’, confirming ‘recognition that
International Relations could not be assimilated to the methods of the physical
sciences’, bringing ‘together history, philosophy and legal thinking (albeit in a
critical way)’, and provoking ‘writers like Martin Wight into seeking a via media
between realism and utopianism’.6 Carr’s most prominent contribution to inter-
national relations theory has remained his landmark work, The Twenty Years’
Crisis 1919–1939.7 Wight’s critical review of Carr’s book is widely cited, and it is
included in this collection.8
3 See, among other sources, Andrew Linklater and Hidemi Suganami, The English School of
International Relations: A Contemporary Reassessment (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press,
2006); William Bain, ‘Are There Any Lessons of History? The English School and the Activity of Being
an Historian’, International Politics, 44 (2007), pp. 513–530; Cornelia Navari, Theorising International
Society: English School Methods (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009); and Barry Buzan, An
Introduction to the English School of International Relations: The Societal Approach (Cambridge, UK:
Polity Press, 2014).
4 See Roy E. Jones, ‘The English School of International Relations: A Case for Closure’, Review of
International Studies, 7 (1) (January 1981), pp. 1–13.
5 Brunello Vigezzi, The British Committee on the Theory of International Politics (1954–1985): The
Rediscovery of History (Milan: Edizioni Unicopli, 2005).
6 See Tim Dunne, Inventing International Society: A History of the English School (Basingstoke and
London: Macmillan Press in association with St Antony’s College, Oxford, 1998), p. 38.
7 E. H. Carr, The Twenty Years’ Crisis 1919–1939: An Introduction to the Study of International
Relations (London: Macmillan, 1939).
8 Martin Wight, ‘The Realist’s Utopia’, The Observer, 21 July 1946, pp. 315–316 in this volume.
Preface: Martin Wight ’ s Scholarly Stature xiii
Hedley Bull listed Wight among scholars pursuing a ‘classical approach’ to

theorizing about international politics,9 but Wight himself appears to have
refrained from categorizing his methodology. The closest he came to doing so, it
seems, was in the preface that he and Herbert Butterfield composed for their co-
edited volume, Diplomatic Investigations. In that preface Butterfield and Wight
described the outlook of the British Committee on the Theory of International
Politics, compared with that of their American counterparts, as ‘probably . . . more
concerned with the historical than the contemporary, with the normative than
the scientific, with the philosophical than the methodological, with principles
than policy’. The participants in the British Committee, Butterfield and Wight
added, ‘have tended to suppose that the continuities in international relations are
more important than the innovations; that statecraft is an historical deposit of
practical wisdom growing very slowly; that the political, diplomatic, legal and
military writers who might loosely be termed “classical” have not been super-
seded as a result of recent developments in sociology and psychology, and that it
is a useful enterprise to explore the corpus of diplomatic and military experience
in order to reformulate its lessons in relation to contemporary needs’.10
This fell short of a rousing manifesto, but it made clear a preference for empir
ical history and normative philosophy over social science and immediate policy
relevance. The collection of papers in Diplomatic Investigations remains a touch-
stone for admirers of traditional approaches to the study of international politics,
regardless of whether they claim allegiance to the ‘English School’.11
Wight was more interested in analysing moral and philosophical questions
raised by international politics than in debating immediate policy decisions or
assessing current academic schools of thought. He had a talent for bringing
insights from history, philosophy, biography, and literature to bear upon political
thinking and behaviour.
During his lifetime Wight’s most extensive publications concerned the history
of British colonialism,12 and his other publications were limited to a pamphlet
and some articles and book chapters.13 Only one book chapter—his classic essay,
9 See Hedley Bull, ‘International Theory: The Case for a Classical Approach’, in Klaus Knorr and
James N. Rosenau (eds), Contending Approaches to International Politics (Princeton, NJ: Princeton
University Press, 1969), pp. 20–21. Bull’s famous article was first published in World Politics, 18(3)
(April 1966).
10 Herbert Butterfield and Martin Wight (eds), Diplomatic Investigations: Essays in the Theory of
International Politics (London: Allen and Unwin, 1966), preface by Butterfield and Wight, pp. 12–13.
11 For a systematic and illuminating study, see Ian Hall and Tim Dunne, ‘Introduction to the New
Edition’, in Herbert Butterfield and Martin Wight (eds), Diplomatic Investigations: Essays in the Theory
of International Politics (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2019).
12 Martin Wight, The Development of the Legislative Council, 1606–1945 (London: Faber and Faber,
1946); The Gold Coast Legislative Council (London: Faber and Faber, 1947); and British Colonial
Constitutions 1947 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1952).
13 See especially: Martin Wight, Power Politics (London: Royal Institute of International Affairs,
1946); ‘Germany’, ‘Eastern Europe’, and ‘The Balance of Power’, in Arnold Toynbee and
Frank T. Ashton-Gwatkin (eds), The World in March 1939 (London: Oxford University Press for the
Royal Institute of International Affairs, 1952); ‘Western Values in International Relations’, ‘The Balance
xiv Preface: Martin Wight ’ s Scholarly Stature
‘Western Values in International Relations’—outlined Wight’s path- breaking

organization of the history of Western thinking about international politics into
three categories, or traditions (the Realist, or Machiavellian; the Revolutionist, or
Kantian; and the Rationalist, or Grotian); and this essay focused on what Wight
called the Rationalist, or Grotian, tradition.
Wight published relatively little in his lifetime, Hedley Bull observed, because
he was ‘a perfectionist . . . one of those scholars—today, alas, so rare—who (to use
a phrase of Albert Wohlstetter’s) believe in a high ratio of thought to publication’.14
Owing to Wight’s perfectionism, he left many works unfinished when he died
at the age of 58. His widow, Gabriele Wight, and his former colleagues and stu-
dents have prepared four books for posthumous publication: Systems of States in
1977,15 Power Politics in 1978,16 International Theory: The Three Traditions in
1991,17 and Four Seminal Thinkers in International Theory: Machiavelli, Grotius,
Kant and Mazzini in 2005.18
Wight’s lectures won the enduring admiration of his listeners. As Bull testified
in 1976, ‘These lectures made a profound impression on me, as they did on all
who heard them. Ever since that time I have felt in the shadow of Martin Wight’s
thought — humbled by it, a constant borrower from it, always hoping to tran-
scend it but never able to escape from it.’19
Similarly, recalling her studies at the London School of Economics in
1950–1954, Coral Bell, a distinguished Australian scholar, wrote in 1989 that
Martin Wight ‘still seems to me the finest mind and spirit I ever knew well, look-
ing back over what is now almost a full lifetime of knowing many people of the
highest intellectual caliber’. In Bell’s view, Wight’s most valuable teaching con-
cerned the history of ideas about international politics.
of Power’, and ‘Why Is There No International Theory?’ in Herbert Butterfield and Martin Wight
(eds), Diplomatic Investigations: Essays in the Theory of International Politics (Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press, 1966, and London: George Allen and Unwin, 1966); and ‘The Balance of
Power and International Order’, in Alan James (ed.), The Bases of International Order: Essays in
Honour of C.A.W. Manning (London: Oxford University Press, 1973).
14 Hedley Bull, ‘Martin Wight and the Theory of International Relations’, British Journal of
International Studies, 2 (July 1976), p. 101. This essay is reproduced at the beginning of International
Theory: The Three Traditions in a slightly abridged form. The citations here refer to the complete ori
ginal version.
15 Martin Wight, Systems of States, ed. Hedley Bull (London: Leicester University Press in associ
ation with the London School of Economics and Political Science, 1977). For background,
see David S. Yost, ‘New Perspectives on Historical States-Systems’, World Politics, 32(1) October 1979),
pp. 151–168.
16 Martin Wight, Power Politics, ed. Hedley Bull and Carsten Holbraad (London: Leicester
University Press for the Royal Institute of International Affairs, 1978). This is a revised and expanded
version of the 1946 pamphlet with the same title, which was unfinished at the time of Wight’s death.
(Leicester and London: Leicester University Press for the Royal Institute of International Affairs,
1991). This book is based on Wight’s notes for the widely discussed lectures given in the 1950s.
18 Martin Wight, Four Seminal Thinkers in International Theory: Machiavelli, Grotius, Kant and
Mazzini, ed. Gabriele Wight and Brian Porter (London: Oxford University Press, 2005).
19 Hedley Bull, ‘Martin Wight and the Theory of International Relations’, p. 101.
Preface: Martin Wight ’ s Scholarly Stature xv
He made his students see the history of thought in the subject from Thucydides
to Henry Kissinger as a sort of great shimmering tapestry of many figures, a
tapestry mostly woven from just three contrasting threads, which he called real-
ist, rationalist, and revolutionist. What made him such a charismatic teacher,
and those lectures so fascinating, was the elegance of his analysis, and the
breadth and depth of his learning, literary as well as historical.20
Wight’s work remains relevant today because he incisively analysed perennial

questions such as the causes and functions of war, international and regime
legitimacy, and fortune and irony in politics. He identified an order in interrelated
ideas that clarifies the assumptions, arguments, and dilemmas associated with
each of the main traditions of thinking about international politics in the West
since Machiavelli. As Wight pointed out, such knowledge of the past provides an
escape from the Zeitgeist, from the mean, narrow, provincial spirit which is con-
stantly assuring us that we are at the peak of human achievement, that we stand
on the edge of unprecedented prosperity or an unparalleled catastrophe . . . It is a
liberation of the spirit to acquire perspective, to recognize that every generation
is confronted by problems of the utmost subjective urgency, but that an object
ive grading is probably impossible; to learn that the same moral predicaments
and the same ideas have been explored before.21
An illustration of the continuing relevance of Wight’s contribution is the steady

and even increasing abundance of scholarship inspired by his works. This includes
two recent books: Ian Hall’s The International Thought of Martin Wight (2006)
and Michele Chiaruzzi’s Martin Wight on Fortune and Irony in Politics (2016).22
Hall and Chiaruzzi have each published significant follow-on studies, including
Hall’s ‘Martin Wight, Western Values, and the Whig Tradition of International
Thought’, and Chiaruzzi’s work on Wight’s essay ‘Interests of States’.23 Noteworthy
recent studies by prominent scholars include Robert Jackson, ‘From Colonialism
to Theology: Encounters with Martin Wight’s International Thought’ (2008);
Nicholas J. Wheeler, ‘Investigating Diplomatic Transformations’ (2013);
William Bain, ‘Rival Traditions of Natural Law: Martin Wight and the Theory of
20 Coral Bell, ‘Journey with Alternative Maps’, in Joseph Kruzel and James N. Rosenau (eds),
Journeys through World Politics: Autobiographical Reflections of Thirty- four Academic Travelers
(Lexington, MA: Lexington Books/D.C. Heath and Company, 1989), p. 342.
21 Wight, International Theory: The Three Traditions, p. 6.
22 Ian Hall, The International Thought of Martin Wight (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006), and
Michele Chiaruzzi, Martin Wight on Fortune and Irony in Politics (New York: Palgrave Macmillan,
2016). See also Brian Porter’s review-essay, ‘The International Political Thought of Martin Wight’,
International Affairs, 83(4) (July 2007), pp. 783–789.
23 See, for example, Ian Hall, ‘Martin Wight, Western Values, and the Whig Tradition of
International Thought’, The International History Review, 36(5) (2014), 961–981; and Michele
Chiaruzzi, ‘Interests of States: Un inedito di Martin Wight’, Il Pensiero Politico, 51(3) (2018): 423–427.
xvi Preface: Martin Wight ’ s Scholarly Stature
International Society’ (2014); Bruno Mendelski, ‘The Historiography of

International Relations: Martin Wight in Fresh Conversation with Duroselle and
Morgenthau’ (2018); and Nicholas Rengger, ‘Between Transcendence and
Necessity: Eric Voegelin, Martin Wight and the Crisis of Modern International
Relations’ (2019).24
The original purpose of this Oxford University Press project was to present to
the public additional unpublished (or obscurely or anonymously published)
works by Martin Wight that deserve a wide audience. For example, Wight’s essay
‘East and West over Five Centuries’ was published anonymously in The
Economist.25 Wight’s paper ‘Has Scientific Advance Changed the Nature of
International Politics in Kind, Not Merely in Degree?’—presented in 1960 to the
British Committee on the Theory of International Politics—has never been pub-
lished. Wight’s review-essay ‘Does Peace Take Care of Itself?’—was published in
1963, but in a little-known periodical named Views. These three essays will appear
in future volumes of this Oxford University Press collection of works by
Martin Wight.
At the suggestion of external reviewers, the editor and publisher extended the
project’s scope beyond previously unavailable works by Martin Wight to include
some of his ‘greatest hits’ as book chapters that complement the formerly
unknown or little-known works. These include his remarkable and path-breaking
essays in The World in March 1939—’Germany’, ‘Eastern Europe’, and ‘The Balance
of Power’—and his canonical essays in Diplomatic Investigations: ‘The Balance of
Power’, ‘Western Values in International Relations’, and ‘Why Is There No
International Theory?’
As Coral Bell observed, ‘He was a great perfectionist when it came to his own
writing, and so refused to publish (because he was not entirely satisfied with it)
writing that every other academic I know (including myself) would have proudly
sent off to the publishers.’26
Diffidence and perfectionism discouraged Wight from publishing works even
after he had brought them to what other scholars would have considered a high
level of quality. He sometimes borrowed from drafts that he apparently regarded
as works in progress, and not quite ready for final publication. He sometimes pre-
pared multiple versions of the same paper, not always indicating the dates of
24 Robert Jackson, ‘From Colonialism to Theology: Encounters with Martin Wight’s International
Thought’, International Affairs, 84(2) (2008): 351–364; Nicholas J. Wheeler, ‘Investigating Diplomatic
Transformations’, International Affairs, 89(2) (March 2013), pp. 477–496; William Bain, ‘Rival
Traditions of Natural Law: Martin Wight and the Theory of International Society’, The International
History Review, 36(5) (2014), 943–960; Bruno Mendelski, ‘The Historiography of International
Relations: Martin Wight in Fresh Conversation with Duroselle and Morgenthau’, Contexto
Internacional, 40(2) (2018), 249–267; and Nicholas Rengger, ‘Between Transcendence and Necessity:
Eric Voegelin, Martin Wight and the Crisis of Modern International Relations’, Journal of International
Relations and Development, 22(2) (2019), 327–345.
25 ‘East and West over Five Centuries’, The Economist, 30 May 1953, pp. 580–1.
26 Bell, ‘Journey with Alternative Maps’, p. 342.
Preface: Martin Wight ’ s Scholarly Stature xvii
specific drafts. Preparing these drafts for publication has required making
comparisons and exercising judgement as to which versions (or sections) of spe-
cific papers are more fully developed than others and presumably reflect his most
considered judgements. Inconsistencies suggesting the tentative or unfinished
character of some drafts were similarly apparent in International Theory: The
Three Traditions.27
The origin of each document in this collection—whether it was previously
published and, if so, when and where, or whether it was simply a research note or
a lecture or radio broadcast—is indicated in a note with each item. Some of
Wight’s notes in draft papers were minimal or telegraphic, and every effort has
been made to clarify references while respecting the not-too-much-and-not-too-
little principle as an aid to comprehension and scholarship.
The objective has been to collect the most valuable and enduring works con-
cerning what Wight sometimes termed ‘international theory’, the political phil
osophy of international relations; history and works by specific historians; foreign
policy and security strategy, notably including his works on the United Nations
and the impact of scientific change on world politics; and faith and the philoso
phy of history.
In his preface to his widely acclaimed book The Anarchical Society, Bull wrote,
‘I owe a profound debt to Martin Wight, who first demonstrated to me that
International Relations could be made a subject . . . His writings, still inadequately
published and recognised, are a constant inspiration.’28 In his Martin Wight
Memorial Lecture, Bull said, ‘It has seemed to me a task of great importance to
bring more of his work to the light of day . . . For myself, what has weighed
most is not the desire to add lustre to Martin Wight’s name, but my belief in the
importance of the material itself and in the need to make it available to others, so
that the lines of inquiry he opened up can be taken further. Especially, perhaps,
there is a need to make Martin Wight’s ideas more widely available in their original
form, rather than through the second hand accounts of others, such as myself,
who have been influenced by him.’29
This project has been inspired by a similar judgement as to the profound value
of Wight’s contributions and the imperative merit of bringing them to a wider
audience.
27 See David S. Yost, ‘Political Philosophy and the Theory of International Relations’, International
Affairs, 70(2) (April 1994), pp. 272–273.
28 Hedley Bull, The Anarchical Society: A Study of Order in World Politics, 3rd edn (New York:
Columbia University Press, 1977), p. xxx.
29 Hedley Bull, ‘Martin Wight and the Theory of International Relations’, p. 102.
Acknowledgements
I owe my greatest debts in this project to the late Gabriele Wight and the late
Brian Porter, unfailing sources of sound advice and encouragement. Gabriele
Wight graciously authorized the reproduction of many never-before-published
items as well as some previously published works to which she held the copyright.
Great thanks are owed as well to the library staffs of the Royal Institute of
International Affairs, the US Naval Postgraduate School, and the London School
of Economics (particularly the archivists at the British Library of Political and
Economic Science). At the US Naval Postgraduate School, Irma Fink and Greta
Marlatt have been especially helpful, patient, and resourceful.
I would also like to express substantial appreciation to the supportive and pro-
fessional experts at Oxford University Press, notably Dominic Byatt, who has
vigorously and patiently supported this project since I first proposed it to him in
July 2001. Thanks are also due to Christine Ranft, Saranya Ravi, Olivia Wells, and
Matthew Williams of the OUP team.
Several scholars generously made time to advise me on this project and to offer
comments on this Preface and the Introduction, and I am most grateful to them:
Jakub Grygiel, Dave Johnson, Kerry Kartchner, Joseph Pilat, Michael Rühle,
Diego Ruiz Palmer, Paul Schulte, Robert Silano, Karl Walling, and Nicholas
Wheeler. Ian Hall responded most graciously and promptly to my request for a
foreword, and I very much appreciate his contribution.
Thanks are also owed to several periodicals and organizations for permission
to reproduce previously published items: the British Broadcasting Company,
Guardian News and Media, the Immediate Media Company, The Listener, The
Observer, Oxford University Press, the Royal Institute of International Affairs,
SAGE Publications, and the Taylor and Francis Group.
Finally, I would like to express the most profound appreciation to my wife
Catherine for her constant and unparalleled contributions to this project.
OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 06/01/22, SPi
Contents
Introduction: Martin Wight and the Political Philosophy

of International Relations 1
1. Why Is There No International Theory? 22
2. An Anatomy of International Thought 39
3. Western Values in International Relations 49
4. Three Questions of Methodology 88
5. Machiavellian Temptations: Methodological Warning 91
6. The Balance of Power in The World in March 1939 95
7. Kaplan’s System and Process 119
8. Is There a Philosophy of Statesmanship? 121
9. The Communist Theory of International Relations 131
10. The Idea of Just War 141
11. The Causes of War: An Historian’s View 143
12. Gain, Fear and Glory: Reflections on the Nature
of International Politics 155
13. Correspondence about war in The Listener,
October–November 1955 173
14. On the Abolition of War: Observations on a Memorandum
by Walter Millis 175
15. International Legitimacy 182
16. Reflections on International Legitimacy 210
17. Dynastic Legitimacy 219
18. Popular Legitimacy 245
19. What Confers Political Legitimacy in a Modern Society? 262
20. Note on Conquest and Cession 280
21. Fortune’s Banter 282
OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 06/01/22, SPi
xxii Contents
22. Review of Hugh Ross Williamson, Charles and Cromwell

(London: Duckworth, 1946) 313
23. Review of E. H. Carr, The Twenty Years’ Crisis, 1919–1939
(London: Macmillan, 1946) 315
24. Review of Friedrich Meinecke, Machiavellism: The Doctrine
of Raison d’état and its Place in Modern History (London:
Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1957) 317
25. Review of Richard W. Sterling, Ethics in a World of Power:
The Political Ideas of Friedrich Meinecke (Princeton, New Jersey:
Princeton University Press, 1958; London, Oxford University
Press, 1959) 319
26. Review of Hans J. Morgenthau, Dilemmas of Politics, and
Correspondence (University of Chicago Press; and London,
Cambridge University Press, 1958) 321
27. Review of Kenneth W. Thompson, Political Realism and the
Crisis of World Politics: An American Approach to Foreign Policy
(Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press; London,
Oxford University Press, 1960) 324
28. Review of J. L. Talmon, Political Messianism: The Romantic Phase
(London: Secker & Warburg, 1960) 325
29. Review of Raymond Aron, Peace and War: A Theory of
International Relations translated by Richard Howard and
Annette Baker Fox (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1967) 327
Bibliography 331
Index 339
Introduction: Martin Wight
and the Political Philosophy
of International Relations
Martin Wight wrote path-breaking works on international history, foreign policy,

the balance of power, and international organizations, among other topics. He has
nonetheless become best known for his works on what he called ‘international
thought’ or ‘international theory’, sometimes described more precisely as ‘the
political philosophy of international relations’.1 His collected writings in this vol-
ume might be most accurately termed works of political philosophy.
These works can be divided into four categories: (a) traditions of thinking
about international politics since the sixteenth century, (b) the causes and func-
tions of war, (c) international and regime legitimacy, and (d) fortune and irony in
international politics.
Traditions of Thinking about International Politics
Wight analysed traditions of thinking about international politics in Europe and

the rest of the world since the sixteenth century. He considered the thinking of
leaders and policy-makers as well as that of scholars, philosophers, and inter
national lawyers, as revealed in the complicated and patchy historical record.
Wight saw links between the traditions of thinking about international rela-
tions and the three conditions that have characterized international politics since
the sixteenth century: (1) international anarchy, with states acknowledging no
political superior, (2) regulated commercial and diplomatic interactions, and
(3) recognition of a shared cultural or moral order comprising a society or family
of states. In his handwritten notes for an unpublished lecture in 1951, somewhat
telegraphic and staccato owing to the omission of superfluous words, Wight wrote
that ‘these conditions roughly came into existence about 1500, with the break-up
1 Martin Wight, ‘An Anatomy of International Thought’, an appendix to Martin Wight, Four Seminal
Thinkers in International Theory: Machiavelli, Grotius, Kant and Mazzini, ed. Gabriele Wight and Brian
Porter (London: Oxford University Press, 2005), p. 143. This lecture is included in the present volume,
International Relations and Political Philosophy, pp. 39–48.
Ian Hall, Introduction: Martin Wight and the Political Philosophy of International Relations In: International
Relations and Political Philosophy. Edited by: David S. Yost, Oxford University Press. © Ian Hall 2022.
DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780198848219.003.0001
2 International Relations and Political Philosophy
of medieval Christendom, the rise of the sovran state, etc.’2 He pointed out that
international anarchy (1) could be present without the organized intercourse of
commerce and diplomacy (2), or the sense of a society of states (3). This was ‘the
normal condition of the world’ when, for example, ancient empires such as Rome,
Parthia, and China coexisted with few interactions. International anarchy and
organized interactions coexisted without an agreed cultural and moral order in
the relations between the Western countries and the Ottoman Empire from the
fall of Constantinople in 1453 to the 1856 Treaty of Paris. Furthermore, Wight
asked, what about
the condition of things in which the relative importance of (3) and (1) is
reversed, and the common cultural and moral obligations outweigh and have
the ascendancy over political independence? This hypothesis is immediately
recognisable in fact: it is a description of medieval Christendom, out of which
our system of international relations, with its emphasis on sovran political inde-
pendence—its international anarchy—developed. Qualifications: the political
units of medieval Christendom were not sovran states, in that they recognised
limitations to themselves in theory: they were not politically omnicompetent.
What was the political superior they acknowledged? The Emperor? No. The
Pope? Yes, but partially. The Law. Bracton [expounded] Natural Law, of which
international law is a ghost.3 The modern desire of international relations is to
get back to the lost paradise of medieval Christendom. Perhaps this gives us a
clue as to the nature and conditions of international relations. It is essentially a
‘post-medieval’ political phenomenon.4
In other words, since the end of the Middle Ages, the ancient theory of Natural
Law has grown faint, and it has been largely displaced by other conceptual frame-
works. As Wight put it, despite its intrinsic attractions and transient expressions
of support for it, ‘the tradition of an international community with a common
standard of obligation and justice has faded’.5 Wight took note of its promise as
well as its shortcomings:
2 In some of his unpublished draft papers, Wight chose to use the word ‘sovran’ as a synonym for
‘sovereign’. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, this usage dates to Milton in 1649, and has
become ‘chiefly poetic’.
3 Sir Edward Coke and others attributed the maxim ‘non sub homine, sed sub Deo et lege’—‘not
under man but under God and law’—to the English jurist Henry de Bracton (circa 1210–circa 1268).
4 Martin Wight, ‘Elements of International Relations’, Lent Term 1951, an unpublished lecture
manuscript in the Archives of the British Library of Political and Economic Science at the London
School of Economics and Political Science, pp. 3–11. As Wight noted in his paper ‘Dynastic
Legitimacy’, the theory that the ruler was chosen by God extended beyond medieval times.
5 Martin Wight, Power Politics, ed. Hedley Bull and Carsten Holbraad (London: Leicester University
Press for the Royal Institute of International Affairs, 1978), p. 291. This passage is found in the book’s
concluding chapter, ‘Beyond Power Politics’, which was reproduced, unchanged, from the final chapter
in Wight’s pamphlet Power Politics (London: Royal Institute of International Affairs, 1946).
Introduction 3
It is true that there was equally anarchy in the period when men talked in terms
of the Law of Nature, so that its influence upon politics was tenuous and remote.
Yet in the long run the idea of a common moral obligation is probably a more
fruitful social doctrine than the idea of a common material interest. As the
French philosopher Julien Benda has said, mankind has always betrayed its obli-
gations, but so long as it continues to acknowledge and believe in them, the
crack is kept open through which civilization can creep.6 Powers will continue
to seek security without reference to justice, and to pursue their vital interests
irrespective of common interests, but in the fraction that they may be deflected
lies the difference between the jungle and the traditions of Europe.7
Wight’s most extensive work on the political philosophy of international relations

since the sixteenth century is his posthumously published book International
Theory: The Three Traditions.8 As the book’s title suggests, Wight concluded that
the thinkers and ideas could be identified for the most part as representative of
three traditions: Realists, Rationalists, and Revolutionists, labels that ‘do not sac-
rifice accuracy in any degree to the charms of alliteration’.9
Realists, or Machiavellians, emphasize the anarchical elements of international
politics: ‘sovereign states acknowledging no political superior, whose relation-
ships are ultimately regulated by warfare’. Rationalists, or Grotians, concentrate
on ‘diplomacy and commerce’ and other institutions for ‘continuous and organ-
ized intercourse between these sovereign states’. Revolutionists, or Kantians,
underscore the ‘concept of a society of states, or family of nations’ and pursue the
realization of an imperative vision of the moral unity of mankind.10
Realist views have been advanced by philosophers such as Bacon and Hobbes
and by policy-makers such as Frederick the Great and Napoleon. Realists have
tended to deny the existence of international moral and legal obligations based on
natural law, and have appealed—implicitly, if not explicitly—to principles of
expediency such as justification by success.
Rationalists have been closely associated with Western traditions of constitu-
tional government. Philosophers such as Aristotle and Locke and politicians such
as Burke, Gladstone, Lincoln, and Churchill have usually taken Rationalist posi-
tions, holding that moral obligations rooted in natural law (and discernible by
reason) should be respected. Rationalists have also emphasized the moral
6 [Ed.] Julien Benda, La Trahison des Clercs (Paris: Bernard Grasset, 1927), p. 55.
7 Wight, Power Politics, p. 293.
(London: Leicester University Press for the Royal Institute of International Affairs, 1991). This over-
view borrows from David S. Yost, ‘Political Philosophy and the Theory of International Relations’,
International Affairs, 70(2) (April 1994), pp. 263–290.
10 Wight, International Theory: The Three Traditions, pp. 7–8.
tensions and difficulties involved in limiting power and in identifying the lesser
evil in specific situations.
The most prominent examples of Revolutionist thinking include the Protestant
and Catholic factions in the religious wars of the sixteenth and seventeenth cen-
turies, each asserting rights and duties to intervene in other states to promote the
success of their own doctrines; the intellectual forefathers of the French
Revolution, such as Rousseau, and its leaders, particularly the Jacobins; the cham-
pions of ‘ideological uniformity’ as a path to international order and security,
such as Kant, Mazzini, and Woodrow Wilson; the proponents of a gradual con-
vergence of interests through commerce and a consensus of world public opinion,
such as Cobden and Bright; and totalitarian ideologues, both communists and
fascists, who have tried to impose their conceptions through conquest and coer-
cion. Revolutionists have tended to argue that the end justifies the means, or that
political ethics must be identical to those of private life.
Wight held that Realists and Rationalists have drawn on coherent intellectual
traditions. The Rationalists have travelled ‘the road with the most conscious
acknowledgment of continuity’, beginning with ‘the Greeks and especially the
Stoics’ and proceeding down a broad path with many representatives, including
Aquinas, Grotius, Madison, Tocqueville, and Lincoln.11 The Realist tradition is
‘virtually as self-conscious and as continuous as the Rationalist’, with Machiavelli’s
approach an example for Bacon, Hobbes, Frederick the Great, Bismarck,
E. H. Carr, and others.12 In contrast, ‘the Revolutionist ancestry of ideas and con-
tinuity of thought is ambiguous or uncertain. The Revolutionist tradition is less a
stream than a series of waves…[or] disconnected illustrations of the same
politico-philosophical truths . . . It is characteristic of Revolutionism . . . to deny its
past, to try to start from scratch, to jump out of history and begin again.’13
Wight cited examples of ‘how far Machiavelli was from cheap Machiavellianism,
and how his recommendations are more penetrating, and one jump ahead, of his
self-appointed disciples’.14 Similarly, Wight noted that Kant himself rejected ‘the
Revolutionary Kantian principle . . . that the end justifies the means’.15
After an incisive summary of the essential differences between the three tradi-
tions, Wight declared that
all this is merely classification and schematizing. In all political and historical
studies the purpose of building pigeon- holes is to reassure oneself that
the raw material does not fit into them. Classification becomes valuable,
in humane studies, only at the point where it breaks down. The greatest

Introduction 5
political writers in international theory almost all straddle the frontiers dividing
two of the traditions, and most of these writers transcend their own systems.16
Furthermore, to be faithful to the historical evidence, Wight identified subcat-

egories and anomalies in the three main traditions. For instance, he distinguished
‘soft’ Revolutionists, such as Kant and Wilson, from ‘hard’ Revolutionists such as
the Jacobins and Marxist-Leninists: in contrast with the gradual and legalistic
approach of the former, the latter have endorsed the use of violence to bring about
a transformation of world politics.17 He also suggested that ‘if Realism is defined
by the classic Realists—Machiavelli, Richelieu, Hobbes, Hume, Frederick II,
Hegel—then contemporary Realists appear as much Rationalist as Realist’; and he
cited statements by George F. Kennan and Hans Morgenthau as examples.18
Wight also discussed a fourth tradition, historically of lesser prominence,
which he called ‘inverted Revolutionism’—a tradition ‘of whom pacifists are the
chief, although not the only, example’.19 The goal of this approach, notably as
expounded by the Quakers, is ‘evoking the latent power of love in all people, and
transforming the world by the transformation of souls’.20 In Wight’s view, ‘It is
“inverted” because it repudiates the use of power altogether; it is “Revolutionist”
because it sees this repudiation as a principle of universal validity, and energetic
ally promotes its acceptance.’21 Wight maintained that inverted Revolutionism
usually partakes of ‘a Realist analysis of politics’, giving examples such as Tolstoy’s
War and Peace and early Quaker statements comparing men to ‘raging lions’.22
In short, by ‘tradition’ Wight did not mean that new adherents to a way of
thinking have always been strongly influenced and even guided by the analyses
formulated by their predecessors, with certain sets of ideas developed with great
continuity and deliberation over centuries. The Revolutionist ‘tradition’ in par-
ticular has been marked by profound discontinuities. Even within the traditions
with a greater degree of cohesion (the Realists and the Rationalists), individual
analysts and policy-makers have rediscovered and rethought old principles for
themselves and have devised approaches extending beyond the notional limits of
the tradition. Thus, the traditions are not straitjackets, but organizing frameworks
used to group together closely related and often interdependent ideas.
What was Wight’s own position in relation to the three traditions? According
to Hedley Bull, ‘Wight used to delight in keeping students guessing on this issue
and went out of his way to give them as little material as possible for speculating
16 Wight, International Theory: The Three Traditions, p. 259, emphasis in original.

17 Wight, International Theory: The Three Traditions, pp. 46–47, 267.
22 Wight, International Theory: The Three Traditions, pp. 19–20, 109–110.
about it.’23 In a lecture in 1951, however, Wight said, ‘I must confess to what you
will have noticed, that I regard the Rationalists as the great central stream of
European thought; and that I would regard it as the ideal to be a Rationalist and
to partake also of the realism of the Realists, without any cynicism, and the ideal-
ism of the Political Missionaries, without their fanaticism.’24 In 1961, Wight said,
‘I only feel capable of analysing political ideas—not psychologies—and when
I scrutinize my own psyche I seem to find all these three ways of thought within
me.’25 At the end of International Theory: The Three Traditions, Wight said, ‘I find
my own position shifting round the circle.’26
Wight wrote that ‘My own beliefs are of course implicit in the exposition and
comparison but I shall try to restrain them and to give as little material as pos-
sible for speculating whether I would classify myself as Realist, Rationalist, or
Revolutionist.’27
On at least one occasion, however, he called himself a realist: ‘If we are all realists
nowadays, it is because we have all been influenced by the political philosophy of
Machiavelli and Hobbes, as it has been refurbished by Professor Carr in this country
and Professor Morgenthau in America, pre-eminent among a host of lesser writers.’28
If one had to assign Wight to only one tradition, Hedley Bull observed, ‘there
is no doubt that we should have to consider him a Grotian’, in view of his essay
‘Western Values in International Relations’ and other evidence. Bull concluded,
however, that ‘It is a truer view of him to regard him as standing outside the
three traditions, feeling the attraction of each of them but unable to come to rest
within any one of them, and embodying in his own life and thought the tension
among them.’29
With regard to the surprising connections among the traditions, Wight
remarked that ‘you so often find the jump from a shrewd realistic appraisal of
international politics to a sentimental idealism, even pacifism, in Tolstoy, Kennan,
or Butterfield’.30 Conversely, Wight observed, ‘This bleak view of mankind may
explain why pacifists, if they descend from being above the battle to entering the
International Studies, 2(2) (1976), p. 106.
24 Martin Wight, ‘Elements of International Relations’, Lent Term 1951, an unpublished lecture
manuscript in the Archives of the British Library of Political and Economic Science at the London
School of Economics and Political Science, p. 56.
25 Martin Wight, ‘An Anatomy of International Thought’, an appendix to Martin Wight, Four
Seminal Thinkers in International Theory: Machiavelli, Grotius, Kant and Mazzini, ed. Gabriele Wight
and Brian Porter (London: Oxford University Press, 2005), p. 154.
27 ‘Three Questions of Methodology’. Wight’s note is included in the present volume, International
Relations and Political Philosophy, with this passage on p. 89.
28 Martin Wight, ‘Is the Commonwealth a Non- Hobbesian Institution?’ The Journal of
Commonwealth and Comparative Politics, XVI(2) (July 1978), p. 123.
International Studies, 2(2) (1976), p. 107.
30 Wight, ‘An Anatomy of International Thought’.
Introduction 7
fray, tend to adopt a Realist stance.’31 This last sentence might be construed as
autobiographical. It might apply to Wight’s own intellectual journey in that he
was a pacifist in his youth and became more open to Realist (and Rationalist and
Revolutionist) conclusions in his maturity.
This volume includes several complementary works on the ‘international the-
ory’ theme. In addition to four previously published essays dealing with the
political philosophy of international relations—‘An Anatomy of International
Thought’, ‘Why Is There No International Theory?’, ‘Western Values in
International Relations’, and ‘The Balance of Power’32—it includes six never-
before-published items in this domain. These six items consist of four brief
notes—‘Three Questions of Methodology’, ‘Machiavellian Temptations:
Methodological Warning’, ‘Kaplan’s System and Process’, and ‘The Idea of Just
War’—and two papers: ‘Is There a Philosophy of Statesmanship?’ and ‘The
Communist Theory of International Relations’.
‘Kaplan’s System and Process’
Of the “new” works by Wight on political philosophy—that is, previously unpub-

lished items—his note on Morton Kaplan’s book System and Process in
International Politics stands out because it illustrates what Harry Pitt meant in
commenting that ‘Wight’s ideas ran directly against the rising transatlantic tide of
behaviourism, systems analysis, and games theory which constructed value- and
history-free models from the social sciences to provide techniques for crisis man-
agement and the avoidance of war.’33
Wight agreed fully with Aron’s critique of such approaches. In Wight’s words,
‘The aims of States, as of individuals, are various and imponderable, not to be
quantified. They desire not only life but honour, not only security but dignity or
glory.’34 Wight’s critical observations qualify Bull’s statement that Wight ‘made no
serious effort to study the behaviourists and in effect ignored them’.35

32 This refers to the chapter entitled ‘The Balance of Power’ in The World in March 1939, not the
chapter with the same title in Diplomatic Investigations: that is, Martin Wight, “The Balance of Power,”
in Herbert Butterfield and Martin Wight (eds), Diplomatic Investigations: Essays in the Theory of
International Politics (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1966, and London: George Allen
and Unwin, 1966), pp. 149–175.
33 H. G. Pitt, ‘Wight, (Robert James) Martin (1913–1972)’, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography
(Oxford University Press, 2004) [accessed 18 November 2004: http://www.oxforddnb.com/view/
article/38935] Pitt referred to ‘games theory’ instead of the usual term ‘game theory’.
34 Martin Wight, review of Raymond Aron, Peace and War: A Theory of International Relations
(London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1967), published under the title ‘Tract for the Nuclear Age’ in The
Observer, 23 April 1967. This review is included in the present volume, International Relations and
Political Philosophy, pp. 327–329.
35 Bull rightly added, ‘The idea that an approach to Theory as unhistorical and unphilosophical as
this might provide a serious basis for understanding world politics simply never entered his head.’
‘Why Is There No International Theory?’
In this frequently cited essay Wight explained why there is no set of classic
analytical and philosophical works regarding relations among states—what Wight
termed ‘international theory’—analogous to the rich political theory literature
concerning the state. Wight attributed neglect of the states-system mainly to the
focus since the sixteenth century on the modern sovereign state. Moreover, inter
national relations have remained ‘incompatible with progressivist theory’. People
who recoil from analyses implying that progress in international affairs is doubt-
ful sometimes prefer a Kantian ‘argument from desperation’ asserting the feasibil-
ity of improvements and ‘perpetual peace’.
Wight first published ‘Why Is There No International Theory?’ in the journal
International Relations in 1960, and he included it in the Diplomatic Investigations
collection in 1966. One of Wight’s themes in this essay was that the academic
discipline of international relations lacks philosophical classics of the stature of
Aristotle or Montesquieu. Raymond Aron’s Peace and War, first published in
English in 1966,36 led Wight to revise his judgement:
On his first page Aron notes how the political classics have been the fruit of
meditation in times of political crisis, and that the age of the World Wars has not
yet borne such fruit. I have sometimes been tempted to use this as an argument
against the existence of international relations as a distinct discipline. So much
has been written about it, but where are its Hobbes and Locke, its ‘Wealth of
Nations’? Aron’s noble, temperate and magisterial book makes it impossible to
use such an argument any more.37
‘An Anatomy of International Thought’
Wight provided an astonishing and lucid summary of the three traditions in his
lecture, ‘An Anatomy of International Thought.’ In this lecture Wight noted that
thinkers who underscore international anarchy regard the idea of international
society as fictional. Hobbes, for example, maintains that the only remedy for
Hedley Bull, ‘Martin Wight and the Theory of International Relations’, British Journal of International
Studies, 2(2) (1976), p. 104.
36 The original French version, Paix et guerre entre les nations, was published in Paris by Calmann-
Lévy in 1962. The first publications in English of Peace and War: A Theory of International Relations,
trans. Richard Howard and Annette Baker Fox, were issued by Doubleday and Company (Garden City,
New York, 1966), Weidenfeld and Nicolson (London, 1967), and Praeger Publishers (New York, 1968).
37 Martin Wight, ‘Tract for the Nuclear Age’, The Observer, 23 April 1967, a review of Raymond
Aron, Peace and War: A Theory of International Relations.
Introduction 9
anarchical competition is to make a contract for a ruler or an assembly to take

power and act to ensure security. Grotius and others who emphasize the extensive
informal, legal, and customary interactions in international affairs highlight
humanity’s sociability and its potential for constitutionalism and the rule of law.
Kant and others anticipate the vindication of humanity’s potential for peace
through the deepening of the material and moral interdependence of people
around the world. This might come about through the uniformity of independent
states in standards of virtue and legitimacy or through the political and moral
unification of humanity.
‘Western Values in International Relations’
Wight devoted particular attention in this essay to the “middle ground” between
extremes. These extremes are typified by thinkers such as Machiavelli and Hobbes
at one pole, and Kant and Wilson at the other. The via media is associated with
the development of constitutional government and the rule of law, as represented
by thinkers such as Grotius and Gladstone. “Western values” are most effectively
supported by thinkers and leaders who neither deny the existence of international
society nor exaggerate its foreseeable prospects for gaining greater cohesion and
strength. The middle course—the mainstream of the “Western values” tradition—
respects moral standards and sees moral challenges as complex, instead of regard-
ing them as simple or nonexistent.
‘The Balance of Power’ in The World in March 1939
This paper corresponds with Wight’s several works about the three traditions
because, despite the essay’s title,38 it is not an assessment of the military capabil
ities, economic potential, and social cohesion of the main power blocs in March
1939—the Soviet Union, the Axis Powers (Germany, Italy, and Japan), and the
Western Powers (Britain and France above all). It elucidates a three-cornered dia-
logue among these power blocs, grounded in—and informed by—actual state-
ments by national leaders and commentators, with “Anglo-Saxons” speaking for
the Western Powers. While Wight did not employ the Realist, Rationalist, and
Revolutionist categories explicitly in this essay, the Soviet Communist vision of
salvation can be regarded as Revolutionist, the Nazis and Fascists express Realist
38 ‘The Balance of Power’, in Arnold Toynbee and Frank T. Ashton-Gwatkin (eds), The World in
March 1939 (London: Oxford University Press, 1952), pp. 508–531. For a perceptive analysis, see
Michele Chiaruzzi, “The Three Traditions in History: A Dialogic Text,” Global Change, Peace and
Security, vol. 22, no. 1 (February 2010), pp. 121–128.
ideas such as the state determining political and social values while making terri-
torial acquisitions, and the British and the French may be seen as Rationalists to
the extent that they oppose aggression and uphold constitutional government
and the rule of law in international relations, as per their commitments to the
Covenant of the League of Nations. In conjunction with this triangular clash of
arguments, the essay examines factors in addition to ideas that influenced
decision-making, including greed, coercion, resentments, power pressures,
national egoisms, dependence on allies, and perceived security imperatives.
Three combinations were hypothetically possible, given the political fluidity
and antagonism after Nazi Germany occupied Bohemia and Moravia in March
1939: a Nazi–Soviet alliance, a Soviet–Western alliance, or a Nazi–Western alli-
ance. In August 1939, Nazi Germany offered the Soviet Union a non-aggression
pact that enabled Moscow to seize territories in Eastern Europe and to limit its
immediate involvement in combat. Nazi Germany’s attack on the Soviet Union in
June 1941 brought about a Soviet–Western alliance determined to defeat the Axis,
despite the moral and ideological chasm between Soviet totalitarianism and
Western democracy.
‘Is There a Philosophy of Statesmanship?’
This previously unpublished lecture is noteworthy on multiple grounds, notably

its emphasis on the extent to which some Grotians and moralists championed
‘a different Utopia’, an ideal distinct from the revolutionary uniformity sought by
certain religions and ideologies. This different Utopia was the League of Nations,
an institution designed to bring about a peaceful universal legal order.
‘The Communist Theory of International Relations’
In this previously unpublished paper, Wight analysed the distinctive effects of

Marxist-Leninist ideology and Communist practice on states ruled by Communist
parties and states with non-Communist or ‘bourgeois’ regimes. Wight’s analysis
of Communist ideology and practice deepens understanding of relations among
Communist parties and Communist party-led states, as well as interactions with
non-Communist ‘bourgeois’ states and political movements. This enriches inter-
pretations of historical and contemporary events involving Communist parties
and regimes and furnishes a foundation for assessing interactions among move-
ments and regimes rooted in ideologies, including religions offering meaning to
radicalized groups and individuals.
Introduction 11
The Causes and Functions of War
This volume includes three essays by Wight about the causes and functions of war
in international politics: ‘The Causes of War: An Historian’s View’, ‘Gain, Fear and
Glory: Reflections on the Nature of International Politics’, and ‘On the Abolition
of War: Observations on a Memorandum by Walter Millis’.39
‘The Causes of War: An Historian’s View’
This paper concentrates on distinct combinations of motives to use force. These

have included winning independence, imposing domination, promoting alle-
giance to an ideology, gaining economic advantages, and resisting the rise to
supremacy of a political-military competitor. Fear of the loss of security and
autonomy may lead to preventive war or intervention to maintain a favourable
balance of power.
‘Gain, Fear and Glory: Reflections on the Nature

of International Politics’
This essay analyses the three causes of war identified by Thucydides and his most
eminent translator, Thomas Hobbes. Looking beyond the circumstantial occa-
sions through which wars begin, the chief motives of belligerents have been to
pursue material gains, to respond to fears, and to obtain glory and prestige for a
doctrine. Wight calls ‘simple Thucydidean fear . . . the prime motive in inter
national politics’ because it involves ‘a rational apprehension of contingent evil’,
not simply ‘some unreasoning emotion’. Wight discusses how fear may be a cause
of preventive war, and he labels the great difficulty of building trust between for-
mer adversaries ‘the Hobbesian predicament’.
On the Abolition of War: Observations on a

Memorandum by Walter Millis
In this essay Wight advanced four main criticisms of a proposal by Walter Millis
to abolish what Millis called ‘the war system’. First, the proposal disregards ‘the
positive or constructive functions of war in international society’, such as bringing
39 The present volume also features ‘The Idea of Just War’, a previously unpublished note in which
Wight discusses pendulum swings in opinion about the requirements of justice in war in Western civi-
lization since the Middle Ages.
about ‘desirable change’, gaining independence, preserving independence, and

maintaining the balance of power. Second, the proposal to abolish war under-
states ‘the intractability of international conflicts’ and exaggerates the role of
armaments and military formations in causing war. The ultimate causes of war,
Wight held, reside in ‘human passions and conflicting interests’, not weapons.
Third, the proposal to eradicate war fails to recognize the price that must be paid
to defeat aggression and establish order. Fourth, no effective alternative institu-
tion has been found to replace ‘the war system’ as a means to perform certain
functions, including the prevention of detrimental change. The vision of an
‘international government’ ruling the world without war implies in the end
‘a monopoly of power’, including nuclear arms, perhaps under ‘an American–
Russian dyarchy’, despite ‘the intrinsic instability of dyarchy’ and its ‘disagreeable-
ness’ for the rival powers, such as China and France.
International and Regime Legitimacy
Wight prepared several papers on legitimacy in domestic and international polit

ics, but most of them have not been previously published. The principal excep-
tions are his article ‘International Legitimacy’, published in 1972 in the journal
International Relations,40 and his book chapter with the same title, published
posthumously in Systems of States.41 This collection includes the journal article,
which is considerably longer and more detailed than the book chapter, plus five
never-before-
published papers: ‘Reflections on International Legitimacy’,
‘Dynastic Legitimacy’, ‘Popular Legitimacy’, ‘Note on Conquest and Cession’, and
‘What Confers Political Legitimacy in a Modern Society?’
‘International Legitimacy’
Wight defined international legitimacy as ‘the collective judgment of international

society about rightful membership of the family of nations’.42 International
legitimacy derived mainly from prescription and dynasticism until the American
and French Revolutions instituted the popular and democratic principle of the
consent of the governed. The increasing reliance on popular politics led to the
triumph of national self-determination in the 1919 peace settlement, with certain
exceptions, notably the decision not to conduct a plebiscite in Alsace-Lorraine.
40 Martin Wight, ‘International Legitimacy’, International Relations, IV(1) (May 1972), pp. 1–28.
41 Martin Wight, ‘International Legitimacy’, in Systems of States, ed. Hedley Bull (London: Leicester
University Press, in association with the London School of Economics and Political Science, 1977).
42 Martin Wight, ‘International Legitimacy’, International Relations, 4(1) (May 1972), p. 1.
Introduction 13
New principles, such as territorial contiguity and integrity, influenced decisions

about the legitimacy of the frontiers of the states formed from the breakup of
European colonial empires after the Second World War.43
‘Reflections on International Legitimacy’
Wight pointed out in this essay that governments on some occasions have set
aside established principles of legitimacy in order to serve other purposes, such as
maintaining a preferred balance of power, gaining territory, promoting commer-
cial relations, or pursuing state-consolidation, sometimes with a ‘lack of scruple’.
Wight observed that rules regarding legitimacy have furnished grounds ‘for argu-
ment, controversy, conflict, even war’. He nonetheless concluded that ‘the influ-
ence of principles of legitimacy upon international politics has generally been
overestimated’ and ‘has declined rather than grown, with the transition from the
dynastic to the popular age’.
‘Dynastic Legitimacy’
In this essay Wight clarified the importance of dynastic legitimacy—that is,

hereditary monarchy—in European history. In the Middle Ages and subsequent
centuries, rulers were mainly princes who inherited their crowns. The principal
exceptions were leaders of republics, including Venice, Ragusa, Genoa, and Lucca
in Italy; the Swiss confederation; and the United Provinces of the Low Countries.
‘Popular Legitimacy’
The American and French Revolutions derived from—and promoted—a concept

of legitimacy based on popular consent and the public will. This concept dis-
placed the practice of relying on dynasticism, the prescriptive rights of hereditary
monarchs. As a result, plebiscites have taken the place of dynastic marriages as
mechanisms for the legitimization of transfers of sovereignty. Noteworthy
examples include decisions in the unification of Italy and in the European settle-
ment of 1919–1920.
43 In his “Note on Conquest and Cession” Wight provided a brief survey of institutions for the
conquest and cession of territories, illustrated by examples in European history since the fifteenth
century. Some legal and political forms concealed de facto conquest and cession to spare the amour
propre of the losing party and thereby minimize its humiliation.
‘What Confers Political Legitimacy in a Modern Society?’
In this essay Wight considered several sources of legitimacy for a modern Western
society. For example, a well-functioning state bureaucracy is a necessity, and
popular consultation involving the consent of the governed is also essential.
Beyond such practical considerations, the ‘rationalist illusion’ supposes that citi-
zens can be critical spectators in the proceedings of their own society and its pol
itics. Such detachment is not attainable, and the aspiration for it derives from the
fallacy that political life can be reduced to the conscious and purposeful manage-
ment of material resources to satisfy public needs. Wight concluded that ‘legitim
ation is not achieved by rational debate. It is achieved by the adoption, and usually
the imposition, of myths, ideologies, fantasies even, which have a rational admix-
ture, and the better of which are capable of being explored and developed by rea-
son, but whose strength is in their going down to the sub-rational and instinctual
roots of human behavior.’
Links Between Regime and International Legitimacy
As Wight observed, Burke’s belief in the ‘indefeasible principle of legitimacy in

Christianity and prescription . . . made him construe the French Revolution as a
wilful act of secession from international society followed by an assault upon it
from the outside, instead of a debate within international society which would in
the end produce a modified principle of legitimacy’.44 Burke’s approach, Wight
incisively pointed out, raised questions that led ultimately to a compromise con-
cerning acceptable forms of international legitimacy:
Is it fair to say that Burke’s writings against the French Revolution illustrate a
central paradox of the view of international society he propounded, that its
principles of legitimacy have been modified instead of being dissolved, only
because men have been ready to fight that they should undergo no change at all?
It is those who have died to prevent modification who have made possible a
modification within limits that posterity can accept.45
Wars have made plain the linkage between domestic and international legitimacy,
Wight noted. ‘Since the American Declaration of Independence in 1776, every
44 Martin Wight, ‘Western Values in International Relations’, in Herbert Butterfield and Martin
Wight (eds), Diplomatic Investigations: Essays in the Theory of International Politics (Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press, 1966, and London: George Allen and Unwin, 1966), p. 98.
45 Martin Wight, ‘Western Values in International Relations’, in Herbert Butterfield and Martin
Wight (eds), Diplomatic Investigations: Essays in the Theory of International Politics (Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press, 1966, and London: George Allen and Unwin, 1966), pp. 100–101.
Introduction 15
war between great powers, with three exceptions and those before 1860, has led to
revolution on the losing side.’46 (Wight did not specify the three exceptions, but
he may have had in mind the War of 1812, the Crimean War in 1853–1856, and
the Second War of Italian Independence in 1859.) In another formulation,
Wight wrote:
Since Bismarck’s time, every war between great powers has ended with a revolu-
tion on the losing side, whether erupting from forces within the defeated state or
imposed by the victors, and ranging in violence and intensity from the establish-
ment of the dual monarchy in defeated Austria after 1866 and the controlled
democratization of Japan after 1945 to the Bolshevik Revolution in defeated
Russia in 1917 and the annihilation of the Nazi regime in Germany in 1945. We
cannot now imagine a great war which would not aim at overthrowing the
regime of our adversary.47
Calls for doctrinal uniformity for legitimacy in the pursuit of peace—from the
Wars of Religion to Kant’s Perpetual Peace and Communism and other doctrines
and ideologies—offer further examples of the connections between domestic and
international legitimacy. Wight highlighted the role of force and equilibriums of
power in upholding revised assumptions about the legitimacy of states. In
his words:
The moral presumption that had turned against the old status quo, as Portugal
found when robbed with impunity of Goa, has been transferred for the time
being to the new status quo, as the Nagas, Katanga, and Biafra found in different
ways when they appealed in vain against it. But the status quo rests on nothing
but an equilibrium of force between India and Pakistan in Kashmir, between
India and China, and between Israel and the Arab states. Nationalism and revo-
lution have enfeebled the very conception of international order.48
Fortune and Irony in International Politics
Wight qualified his orderly analysis of traditions of international thought, the

causes and functions of war, and competing principles of domestic and
University Press for the Royal Institute of International Affairs, 1978), p. 141.
48 ‘The Balance of Power and International Order’, in Alan James (ed.), The Bases of International
Order: Essays in Honour of C. A. W. Manning (London: Oxford University Press, 1973), pp. 112–113.
international legitimacy by drawing attention to unpredictable ‘wild card’ factors

such as fortune and irony.
In his paper entitled ‘Fortune’s Banter’, originally called ‘Fortune and Irony in
International Politics’, Wight surveyed concepts and events from Graeco-Roman
antiquity to modern times dealing with the impact on international politics of
chance, destiny, fate, fortune, freedom, irony, luck, necessity, providence, tragedy,
and will. In praising Raymond Aron’s masterwork, Wight wrote, ‘Diplomacy is
the realm of the contingent and the unforeseen, and the statesman’s supreme vir-
tue is prudence, which means acting in accordance with the concrete data of the
particular situation.’49
Unintended, unexpected, and ironical consequences nonetheless abound in
international politics, despite efforts to master the dynamics of events. Wight
quoted in this regard one of the best-known declarations of US Secretary of State
John Foster Dulles:
You have to take chances for peace, just as you must take chances in war. Some
say that we were brought to the verge of war. Of course we were brought to the
verge of war. The ability to get to the verge without getting into the war is the
necessary art. If you cannot master it, you inevitably get into war. If you try to
run away from it, if you are scared to go to the brink, you are lost. We’ve had to
look it square in the face—on the question of enlarging the Korean war, on the
question of getting into the Indochina war, on the question of Formosa. We
walked to the brink and we looked it in the face. We took strong action.50
Referring in ‘Fortune’s Banter’ to these remarks by Dulles, Wight highlighted the

significance of daring to go to the ‘brink’ of war.
It is a vivid restatement of the Machiavellian philosophy of politics, combining

the traditional ideas of Fate, which leads along the verge of war; of chance, which
must be mastered; of taking chances; of imposing the political will by strong
action; of politics as the necessary art, as virtù. Consequently it caused a shock,
being an eloquent statement of a view of the nature of international politics
which American and British opinion are reluctant to admit. Yet it is a view
which most of the great international statesmen of the past, not only Truman
and Churchill, but Bismarck, Palmerston, and Metternich, would accept as a
straightforward description of their own experience.
49 Review of Raymond Aron, Peace and War: A Theory of International Relations (London:
Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1967), published under the title ‘Tract for the Nuclear Age’ in The Observer,
23 April 1967.
50 John Foster Dulles, as reported in James Shepley, ‘How Dulles Averted War’, Life, 16 January 1956.
Introduction 17
The willingness to accept risks and undertake daring actions may be reinforced,
Wight pointed out, by the individual leader’s convictions as to destiny and ‘the
inevitability of his ideas triumphing’.51
Causation and the Role of Ideas in International Politics
The works collected in this volume underscore the complexity of causation. With
regard to the antinomy of ‘ideas’ vs. ‘material’ or ‘objective’ factors in decision-
making, it is not a question of ‘either/or’ but of ‘both/and’ being involved all the
time in interactions within and among states.52 Despite his wording in some
works, Wight clearly saw that it would be reductive and misleading to concentrate
solely on ideational or material causative factors. Sometimes, Wight observed, the
champions of ideas such as natural law have had no meaningful alternative:
it is worth noting that in the Melian Dialogue it is the great power, Athens,
which talks of self-interest (Realism), and the small power, Melos, which talks of
the general interest (Rationalism). In Thucydides the particular event is the
vehicle of a general truth: small powers are normally the chief spokesmen of
general principles, of moral law and natural law, because they have no other
defence.53
Wight studied assiduously the role of ideas in international politics, but he some-
times wrote as if ideas and moral principles had a secondary (or trivial, or even
non-existent) impact on state actions dictated by existential necessity. In ‘From
the League to the UN’, for example, Wight wrote that:
None of Hitler’s opponents went to war with him for a moral or juridical prin
ciple; all of them acted in desperation and self-defence; Britain and France when
they saw that their betrayal of Czechoslovakia had failed of its purpose, and all
the other Powers when they were individually attacked. They all without
51 See, for example, Wight’s discussions of Nasser and de Gaulle in ‘Is There a Philosophy of
Statesmanship?’. This essay is included in the present volume, International Relations and Political
Philosophy, pp. 121–130.
52 Much of the debate about this perennial topic concerns the circumstances in which ideas may
interact with material factors to influence foreign policy and international politics—and to what
degree and for what duration of time. Classic judgments have been articulated by thinkers as eminent
as John Maynard Keynes and Max Weber. More contemporary studies include Judith Goldstein and
Robert O. Keohane, “Ideas and Foreign Policy: An Analytical Framework,” in Judith Goldstein and
Robert O. Keohane, eds., Ideas and Foreign Policy: Beliefs, Institutions, and Political Change (Ithaca
and London: Cornell University Press, 1993); and Pierre Hassner, “Le rôle des idées dans les relations
internationales,” Politique Étrangère, vol. 65, no. 3–4 (Autumn/Winter 2000), pp. 687–702.
53 Martin Wight, International Theory: The Three Traditions, p. 131.
exception acted not on the moral principle of collective security, but according
to the sauve-qui-peut of international anarchy.54
Wight took a similar position with reference to the motives that led to the forma-
tion of NATO. He argued that shared values and common political objectives do
not have a sufficiently centripetal effect to bring countries together in an alliance.
According to Wight, ‘alignments are formed under external pressure rather than
from common sentiment, and their cohesion varies with the pressure’.55 In his
view, ‘the establishment of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization in 1949 was
entirely due to the external pressure of Soviet Russia’.56
It should be recalled, however, that the founding Allies had political objectives
in addition to collective defence, deterrence, and containment. They made clear
in the North Atlantic Treaty that they intended to uphold and advance positive
political purposes. Many of the founding political leaders and diplomats, such as
Harry Truman and Ernest Bevin, had experienced both of the world wars, and
they intended to prevent a recurrence of the conditions that had produced those
wars. From their perspective, the Alliance had to be based on a common commit-
ment to positive and enduring goals.57 In this case Wight’s emphasis on Realist
imperatives seems to have overwhelmed other potent categories of motivation
such as defending and promoting democracy, constitutionalism, and the rule of
law, objectives associated with what Wight termed Rationalism and ‘soft’
Revolutionism.58
Wight himself drew attention to the recurrent return to motives higher than
self-preservation. During the Second World War, ‘the League idea, having been
expelled in its original form, kept on creeping back. National self-defence against
aggression was not enough. The idea persisted that the Allied powers were a col-
lective body with standards and aims that distinguished them from the Axis.’59
Regarding the long sweep of history, Wight recognized the limited practical
impact of Grotius and other thinkers, and cited Sir Hersch Lauterpacht in this
regard: ‘Undoubtedly, the general picture of international relations in the two
centuries which followed the publication of De Jure Belli ac Pacis was not one
54 Martin Wight, ‘From the League to the UN’, an unpublished paper, apparently composed in
September 1946. The French expression sauve-qui-peut may be translated as ‘every man for himself ’
or (literally) ‘save himself who can’.
55 Martin Wight, Power Politics, p. 157. 56 Martin Wight, Power Politics, p. 103.
57 Compromises began at the outset, however, even regarding the commitment to democracy.
When the Alliance was established, the dictatorship in Portugal was comparable to that in Franco’s
Spain, but the Allies saw access to the Azores as imperative for the security of the Alliance. For a fuller
discussion, see David S. Yost, NATO Transformed: The Alliance’s New Roles in International Security
(Washington, DC: United States Institute of Peace Press, 1998), pp. 70–72. See also David S. Yost,
NATO’s Balancing Act (Washington, D.C.: United States Institute of Peace Press, 2014), pp. 363–366.
59 ‘From the League to the UN’.
Introduction 19
pointing to any direct influence, in the sphere of practice, of the essential features
of the Grotian teaching.’60
As with the meagre impact of Grotius on state behaviour, Wight expressed cau-
tious judgements about the concrete relevance of concepts of legitimacy. On the
one hand, ‘Rules of legitimacy . . . are intrinsically heady and exciting, because
they spring from the deepest moral convictions.’61 On the other hand, Wight con-
cluded, ‘The rules of legitimacy, whether dynastic or popular, have always been
subordinate to the needs of state-building and state-consolidation. Here force
plays a preponderant part, and consent is often evoked by modifying principles or
even disregarding them. We need only remind ourselves of two examples: the vio-
lence and illegality with which the United States dispossessed the Indians, the
violation of rights by which Prussia unified Germany.’62
Wight acknowledged that factors other than ideas have at times driven great
events in international history and that separating ideational elements from other
issues is not always readily accomplished. Sometimes Wight mentioned in pass-
ing huge subjects such as ‘the social and economic origins of the French
Revolution of 1848’ and Mazzini’s ‘practical conspiratorial activities’ and his role
as a Roman triumvir in 1849.63
As noted previously, in his remarkable essay ‘The Balance of Power’ in The
World in March 1939, Wight considered factors in addition to ideas that influ-
enced decision-making, such as power pressures, dependence on allies, and per-
ceived security imperatives. In another study, Wight observed that a society ‘is
not only a multiplicity of individuals but the product also of impersonal social
forces, economic resources, and physical environment’.64
Despite various pressures and pulls from material factors and contending
ideas, decision-makers do not lack agency; they can decide how to react to such
factors and ideas and design a purposeful agenda—with the results subject to
fortune and various other unpredictable and uncontrollable factors. It is for this
reason that Wight’s approach and analytical framework remain relevant. His
approach clarifies the history and impact of ideas about international politics,
60 Lauterpacht, ‘The Grotian Tradition in International Law’, British Year Book of International Law,
1946, p. 16, quoted in Wight, ‘Why Is There No International Theory?’ in Herbert Butterfield and
Martin Wight (eds), Diplomatic Investigations: Essays in the Theory of International Politics
(Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1966, and London: George Allen and Unwin, 1966),
p. 30. ‘Why Is There No International Theory?’ is included in the present volume, International
Relations and Political Philosophy, pp. 22–38.
61 Martin Wight, ‘Reflections on International Legitimacy’. p. 218.
62 Martin Wight, ‘International Legitimacy’, International Relations, IV(1) (May 1972), p. 28. This
paper is included in the present volume, International Relations and Political Philosophy, with this
passage on p. 209.
63 Martin Wight, review of J. L. Talmon, Political Messianism: The Romantic Phase (London: Secker
& Warburg, 1960), published in International Affairs, 38(2) (April 1962), p. 224. This review is
included in the present volume, International Relations and Political Philosophy, pp. 325–326.
64 Martin Wight, ‘What Makes a Good Historian?’ The Listener, 17 February 1955, pp. 283–284.
including the interdependence and implications of certain ideas. As has been the
case recurrently since the sixteenth century, the international scene today features
great-power competition, threats of opportunistic aggression, ideological strug-
gles about domestic and international governance, fragmentation in international
institutions, and crises of legitimacy, including in Western nations. Even within
NATO, tension among the Allies about how to uphold and defend shared values
within and beyond the Alliance has deepened since the Russian annexation of
Crimea in 2014, despite a fragile and potentially transient revival of cohesion in
the immediate aftermath of the annexation.65
Wight pointed out that Hitler expressed resentment of what he perceived as a
British attitude of superiority: ‘It would be a good thing if in Great Britain people
would gradually drop certain airs which they have inherited from the Versailles
epoch. We cannot tolerate any longer the tutelage of governesses!’66 Hitler also
asserted, Wight noted, that ‘The Western Democracies were dominated by the
desire to rule the world and would not regard Germany and Italy as in their class.
This psychological element of contempt was perhaps the worst thing about the
whole business.’67
It is not always possible to distinguish a determination to avenge a perceived
‘psychological element of contempt’ from an idea about international politics.
According to Hobbes, the third cause of war, after seeking material gains and
responding to fear, is pursuing ‘reputation’ and ‘glory’. That is, Hobbes wrote,
people will fight ‘for trifles, as a word, a smile, a different opinion, and any other
signe of undervalue, either direct in their Persons, or by reflexion in their
Kindred, their Friends, their Nation, their Profession, or their Name’.68
In sum, Wight recognized that international politics involve significant causa-
tive factors other than ideas, but he held that even actions taken to a significant
extent on the basis of ‘objective’ developments (such as population pressures,
environmental conditions, and economic struggles) are usually interpreted,
mediated, and justified by reference to ideas. In his words, ‘in historical retro-
spect, the philosophies of statesmen do seem observably to colour their policies’.69
65 For a more extensive discussion of the relevance of Wight’s work on the theory and philosophy
of international politics, see Yost, ‘Political Philosophy and the Theory of International Relations’,
pp. 286–290.
66 Hitler, speech at Saarbrücken, 9 October 1938, quoted in Martin Wight, ‘The Balance of Power’,
The World in March 1939, p. 525n.
67 Hitler statement to Ciano, 13 August 1939, quoted in Martin Wight, ‘The Balance of Power’, The
World in March 1939, p. 525n. This quotation from Hitler and the one referenced in the previous note
may be found in the present volume, International Relations and Political Philosophy, in note 50 on
pp. 112–113.
68 Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan, ed. Richard Tuck (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press,
1991; first published in 1651), chapter XIII, p. 88.
69 Martin Wight, ‘Machiavellian Temptations: Methodological Warning’. Wight’s note is included
in the present volume, International Relations and Political Philosophy, with this passage on p. 92.
Introduction 21
Indeed, Wight concluded, ‘there are few greater errors in the study of inter
national politics than to suppose that revolutionary doctrines have been dis-
carded or are maintained only hypocritically for reasons of state. This is to show
ignorance of human beliefs and motives’.70 Wight judged that ideas are signifi-
cant, not only because they are essential in order to accurately understand motives
and decision-making but also because they are consistent with concepts of free
will, choice, and moral responsibility.
70 Martin Wight, Power Politics, ed. by Hedley Bull and Carsten Holbraad (London: Leicester
1
Why Is There No International Theory?
‘Political theory’ is a phrase that in general requires no explanation.*,** It is used

here to denote speculation about the state, which is its traditional meaning from
Plato onwards. On the other hand, the phrase ‘international theory’ does require
explanation. At first hearing, it is likely to be taken as meaning either the method
ology of the study of international relations, or some conceptual system which
offers a unified explanation of international phenomena—‘the theory of inter
national relations’. In this paper neither of these is intended. By ‘international
theory’ is meant a tradition of speculation about relations between states, a trad
ition imagined as the twin of speculation about the state to which the name
‘political theory’ is appropriated. And international theory in this sense does not,
at first sight, exist.
Some qualification, of course, is needed. There are many theoretical writings
about international relations; some of them bear names as eminent as Machiavelli
or Kant; and in the twentieth century they have become a flood.1 Yet it is difficult
to say that any of them has the status of a political classic. This is a problem that
besets the teacher of International Relations if he conceives of International
Relations as a twin subject, distinct from but parallel with, the subject commonly
known as Political Science or Government. Political Science has its tensions and
internecine conflicts, to be sure, but it is in some sense held together by Political
Theory, or as it is sometimes called the History of Political Ideas. The student of
Government, however else he may be misled, is given an introduction to the trad
ition of speculation and the body of writings about the state from Plato to Laski.
But the student of International Relations cannot, it seems, be similarly directed
to classics in his branch of politics, of the stature of Aristotle or Hobbes or Locke
or Rousseau. Is it because they do not exist?
* [Ed.] Wight first published this paper in International Relations, 2(1) (April 1960), pp. 35–48, 62.
He published it in revised form as a chapter in Herbert Butterfield and Martin Wight (eds), Diplomatic
Investigations: Essays in the Theory of International Politics (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University
Press, 1966, and London: George Allen and Unwin, 1966), pp. 17–34.
** Wight, M., ‘Why Is There No International Theory?’, International Relations, 2(1), pp. 35–48.
Copyright ©1960 by the Author. Reprinted by permission of SAGE Publications, Ltd. Reproduced
from Diplomatic Investigations, by Herbert Butterfield and Martin Wight, published by Allen and
Unwin. Copyright ©1966 by the Author.
1 For recent writings there is a valuable critical study in Stanley H. Hoffman, Contemporary Theory
in International Relations (Englewood Cliffs, N.J., Prentice-Hall, 1960).
Martin Wight, Why Is There No International Theory? In: International Relations and Political Philosophy. Edited by:
David S. Yost, Oxford University Press. © Martin Wight 2022. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780198848219.003.0002
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"He certainly is a queer man," she told Miss Elliott, after triumphantly
displaying the fish.
"He has evidently taken a great fancy to you," remarked Miss Elliott.
"Carry the fish out to Lizzie, please, and tell her we'll have it baked.
You are a forager worth while, Gwen."
"We are to have tinkers for breakfast," said Gwen over her shoulder.
"I shall bring them home with me this afternoon."
"And what are tinkers?" asked Miss Elliott.
"Small fry," replied Gwen as she closed the door.
The afternoon was bright and clear, the drifting clouds along the
northern horizon showing that fair weather might be depended upon.
Gwen, equipped for the occasion, stepped into the boat to take the
place assigned her. Luther Williams' helper, young brown-cheeked,
dark-eyed Ned Symington, took one oar, Luther the other, and before
long they were outside the cove, and, as it seemed to Gwen,
fearsomely near the jagged reefs. But Luther's steady eye and
strong arm were to be relied upon, and when they were at anchor
she had no fears beyond those which led her to dread the lopping
about of the little boat while the net was hauled and emptied of its
draught of fishes. Not for a moment did the girl confess her qualms,
though she felt she must yield to sea-sickness any instant.
It was Ned who remarked, "She looks kinder white around the gills,
Cap'n. Guess we'd better sot her ashore, hadn't we?"
Then Luther looked up. "Is it too much for you?" he asked. "I was
taking it for granted that you were a good sailor."
"But it is such a little boat," said Gwen weakly, "and it is rougher than
I imagined."
"We're all ready to go in," he told her. "That will do, Ned."
The sight and smell of the slippery mass of fish in the bottom of the
boat did not add to her enjoyment of the situation, but she lifted her
eyes, looked steadily landward, and was presently borne inside the
reefs to the haven where she would be.
The tin bucketful of tinkers was the reward of heroism, she told
Luther Williams, as he rallied her upon being so poor a sailor. She
left him to dispose of his afternoon's haul, and carrying her prize, she
took the short cut around the little harbor to the cliffs beyond. As she
emerged from a clump of trees which crested the first rise, she met a
man whose costume was carefully studied. His arms were bared to
the shoulders, while his negligé shirt, open at the neck, displayed a
vast expanse of throat. He wore knickerbockers, highly colored golf
stockings, and tennis shoes. His hair, instead of being close-
cropped, was allowed to grow in two locks above his forehead, and
these locks waved in the breeze at each step. His whole air was one
of wild abandon as he sprang from hummock to hummock.
At sight of Gwen he poised himself upon a hillock as if about to take
flight and called out cheerily "Good afternoon, Miss Whitridge, I'd
take off my hat to you, but you see I don't wear one. Isn't this
glorious? Let me carry your pail for you. Been Ashing, I see."
Gwen surrendered her tin bucket. "Well, not exactly, Mr. Mitchell,"
she said, "but at least I accompanied the expedition, and the reward
I received for lopping around in a ticklish little boat for an hour or
more, is this hoard of tinkers. Do you know enough of the vernacular
to recognize the variety of fish?"
Mr. Mitchell peered curiously into the bucket. "They look like
mackerel," he remarked.
"You have guessed the first time. That is exactly what they are:
kindergarteners caught in a school of mackerel."
Mr. Mitchell smiled faintly and fell into step, while Gwen realized that
conventional speech was best suited to her companion. "Delightful
weather, isn't it, Mr. Mitchell?" she began. "I hope you are enjoying
the island."
"Oh, so much, Miss Whitridge. I assure you that such novel
experiences don't come my way very often. I was saying to my
mother this morning that to cast off the shackles of business and
become, as it were, a child of nature, is delightful, such a charming
episode in one's life, isn't it?"
"Charming indeed," returned Gwen, glancing down demurely at the
green and yellow golf stockings. "Shall you be here all summer, Mr.
Mitchell?"
"For the greater part of it. My mother has not been well and the
doctor has prescribed Maine air and quiet, so I have promised to
keep her company for a while. Some friends at Bar Harbor are
expecting me in August. It doesn't do to live too long away from
civilization, does it?"
"Well, I don't know; it depends upon what you call being civilized."
"Oh, the regulation thing, of course; living in comfortable, well-
furnished rooms, eating proper fare, dining out, and going to places
of amusement, meeting your friends at clubs and at social functions."
"Wearing well cut clothes, walking down Commonwealth Avenue in a
silk hat and frock coat," returned Gwen with gravity.
"Yes, yes, that sort of thing. I see you understand. But it is my
principle to fall in with the customs of whatever place I happen to be
in, and that is why I dress for the island."
"I see you do," responded Gwen. "Very commendable I am sure, Mr.
Mitchell. Is your mother much of an invalid? Can't she enjoy being
here?"
"Oh, yes, she enjoys it in a measure. She thinks the air very
invigorating, and she is fond of her cousins. She hasn't ventured to
walk over this rough ground, so she sits on the porch generally. She
has her fancy-work and that interests her."
"How fortunate," murmured Gwen.
"Who is that chap sketching over there on the rocks?"
Gwen glanced seaward. "Oh, that is Mr. Hilary. He is here for the
summer, too."
"Queer how a man can like to spend his time doing that sort of thing.
I'd never be content to sit around daubing paint on canvas,"
remarked Mr. Mitchell. "An active life for me," and he lengthened his
stride, giving an added spring to his gait.
"No," returned Gwen dreamily, "I shouldn't imagine you could be
content to do such things."
Mr. Mitchell glanced down at her with a gratified expression. "I say,
Miss Whitridge," he said, "you are appreciative."
Gwen's childlike laugh rang out merrily. There was such smug self
satisfaction in his manner. "Thank you," she returned. "I believe I am
more thankful for my appreciative faculty than for anything else. For
instance, at this present moment I am loving that beautiful tender
haze that overspreads the distance, and I am hearing the most
delicately lovely motive in that musical murmur of the waves on the
beach. You don't always hear it just like that, only when the tide is at
a certain point and it is not too rough. Listen." She stopped and Mr.
Mitchell obediently halted also.
"They are pretty noisy at night sometimes," he said, "the waves I
mean, and they aren't very noisy now, but what their motive is
beyond coming in and going out I cannot see." He looked bewildered
and half annoyed.
"This will never do," said Gwen to herself. "I mean they sing a little—
tune to me," she explained.
Mr. Mitchell visibly brightened. "Oh, yes, now you put it that way I
suppose one could fancy something of the kind, but I'm not much for
fancies, of that sort, I mean. Of course I take fancies to things—and
persons." He gave the girl a swift look.
"This is better," thought Gwen. "I suppose you enjoy solid facts," she
said. "I confess I haven't much patience, myself, with visionary
people. If it were not for the practical ones we should all be very
uncomfortable."
"Exactly. That is what I always say, though I'm not such a clodhopper
as not to enjoy beauty," another glance.
"Then," said Gwen calmly, "I hope you will let me show you some of
the beauties of this island."
"Thanks awfully. That's awfully good of you. You see my mother
doesn't think she can walk much, and the other ladies don't care to.
They all like to go to Portland, and they enjoy excursions and drives,
but I'd have to do my walking alone unless—"
"Unless a bold young woman offered to go with you."
"Now, Miss Whitridge, don't say that. You are most hospitable and
kind, in my opinion."
"That is what I meant to be," returned Gwen.
"When can we begin? What shall you show me first?"
"Pebbly Beach, I think. Each pebble is such a nice solid fact you will
enjoy it."
"Can we go to-morrow?"
"In the afternoon, yes."
"Thanks. And after Pebbly Beach?"
"Water Cove, perhaps. Thunder Hole will have to wait for a rough
day, and Sheldon Woods when we are better acquainted."
"And why?"
"Because it is the Holiest of Holies, and is not to be introduced to
any passing acquaintance."
"Oh, I say now, Miss Whitridge, you mustn't consider me a passing
acquaintance, and besides I don't see what difference it makes
anyway. Woods are woods, you know."
"Are they?" returned Gwen. "I don't think so."
"Oh, I don't mean that I insist upon going there first, you know,"
returned Mr. Mitchell with a little less of his ready assurance. "I'm
perfectly willing to follow wherever you lead. Shall I carry these in for
you? No? Then to-morrow at what hour?"
"Shall we say four?" said Gwen after a moment's thought.
"Yes—but—"
"What does that 'but' mean? Have you something else to do at that
hour?"
"Oh dear, no. Only why not earlier? Unless you take a nap."
"If I should happen to do that I'd be wide awake before then.
Suppose we make it half-past three. Will that suit you, Mr. Mitchell?"
"Perfectly."
"Auf wiedersehen, then." She carried in her bucket of fish to display
to Miss Elliott. "Look at our small fry, Aunt Cam," she exclaimed.
"Enough for supper and breakfast, and to send to the House of the
Seven Gables."
"Gwen!"
"Well, dearest!"
"What makes you say that?"
"Because it is so apt. Seven women and one lone man who is being
talked to death, I am sure. I wonder if that is why he is so thin."
"The millionaire, you mean?"
"The creature with such a faulty sense of humor that he couldn't
recognize a joke if he met one in broad daylight. A true primrose-on-
the-river's-brim man."
"Oh dear me, Gwen, is he like that?"
"Well, he is above all things practical. I suppose one ought to be
thankful he is, for remove his festoons of bank notes and what would
he be?"
"You are a trifle practical yourself, my dear. You have an absolute
talent for economics."
"Don't," groaned Gwen. "You will make me feel that I am too
thoroughly fitted to be a poor man's wife to throw myself away on a
millionaire. We have just had a long talk, and I see an ever
increasing vista of engagements to walk. I have promised to show
him the beauties of the island. I wonder if I could manage them all in
one day. Now that I am free from the magnetism of his presence I
am wondering at my readiness to offer myself as 'guide, philosopher
and friend.' He carried my fish home for me."
"Then—"
"You think tinkers are not the only fish I have landed? At all events I
find that goldfish are a trifle difficult to digest, and oh, they are so
bony. I don't know how they would seem served up with diamond
sauce. I might enjoy the sauce, and forget the fish. Anyhow, and
seriously speaking, it is a great thing to have at last discovered the
long desired millionaire. Did you observe his looks, his free step and
his wild and woodland air? He out-islands the islanders."
"I saw him," answered Miss Elliott. "I did think him a trifle over-
dressed for the occasion."
"Under-dressed you mean. Nothing short of coral clasps could hitch
his sleeves up higher, and I am sure there is a full yard of throat
exposed to sun and air. I was foolish enough to try being fanciful
when I talked to him. I wish you could have seen his expression. To-
morrow we go to Pebbly Beach and I shall talk steel rails to him all
the way. I am afraid he will suggest carting away all the pebbles to fill
in railroad beds, though it won't matter as it can't be done. I am
bound he shall find me sympathetic, though I die in the attempt. I'm
going out on the porch. Come along, dear. Why should you ever sit
indoors?"
"As soon as I have finished this letter I'll come."
Gwen picked up a book and went out. The singing waves were
rippling in over the reefs. The sandpipers added a plaintive note
once in a while to the universal melody, and from the grove beyond
the marsh song-sparrows and wrens piped in harmony. The farther
island lay distinctly outlined now in the sun, and the haze had moved
on to the mainland which it enveloped in a faint purple mist. The
windows of a house on a distant island flamed out like a beacon light
as the sun touched them. The sky was blue above, the sea a deeper
blue beneath. Soon more vivid colors would stain the west, and
would drop rose and violet and gold upon the waters.
Letting her book lie in her lap unopened, Gwen permitted her eyes to
dwell upon the scene before her. "It is almost too lovely," she sighed.
Presently some one waved a hand to her from a rock just below. "Do
you hear them?" came the question.
"Hear what?" said Gwen, rising to her feet.
"The singing waves," was the reply. "Such a queer, quaint little
motive that reminds me of Grieg: only a few notes repeated and
repeated with a different accompaniment, so that although it is
monotonous there is infinite variety. Do you hear?"
Gwen stepped out upon the flat rock in front of the porch. "I hear,"
she said. "I have been thinking the motive lovely, but I failed to get
the suggestion of Grieg. It is like. Have you made a successful
sketch, Mr. Hilary?"
"Would you like to see?"
"I'd like it immensely."
"I'll bring it up."
He came springing up the cliff, and turned his sketch around to show
her what he had been doing. "It's just off here." He waved his hand.
"I see; a bit of the Pinnacle and the singing waves curling and
rippling around the feet of the rocks. How well you have suggested
that movement of the water, those queer circles and sinuous
markings. I like the color you find in the rocks. They are not gray at
all. Yes, I like it. It is better than the last. What is that other one? May
I see it?" He handed her the second canvas he carried. Gwen held it
off. A single white-capped wave leaped up from a gray-green sea.
One could feel the toss of spray and could catch the pearly light.
Gwen observed it long. "I like that, too," she said, "though it's rather
more commonplace. It should please the popular taste, but it doesn't
touch the first."
"In other words, it is more salable but not so artistic."
"Yes, I think that is it. You will have to exhibit your canvases after a
while, when you have enough. I am sure you could find buyers."
The young man made no reply, but silently set his sketches aside. "I
saw you out with Luther Williams," he said presently.
"Yes, and I came near to being seasick in that little boat that flopped
about so wickedly at anchor, but I was rewarded with a whole
bucketful of tinkers, and I don't mind looking back upon the afternoon
now it is over."
"Who is the individual with the antennae and the buoyant step?"
asked Kenneth, bending over his box.
"Oh, that? A steel magnate from Boston. He does look rather like
some queer insect, though his ambitions are very human. I fancy he
will never grow wings here below. He could never get along at all in
the upper air, for he is of the earth, earthy, and if he is an insect he is
not the flying kind."
"A hopping one, may be, a grasshopper?"
"Yes, his flights would never be higher. He makes rather a good
grasshopper."
"I should call him a jar-fly. You know that's what the negroes call
locusts sometimes."
"But why a jar-fly?"
"He jars me," returned the young man shouldering his painting kit.
"Dreadful!"
Kenneth laughed and took his departure, Gwen watching him. "He is
much better fun," she soliloquized, "but alas, he is as poor as
poverty. Why does the gift always come with the gauntlet? The
singing waves! the singing waves! How well he understood. Come
out, Aunt Cam, come out," she called. "The sun is about to set, and I
refuse to eat one tinker till the sky grows gray."
CHAPTER VI
PEBBLY BEACH
A hot sun glared upon the long highroad, warmed the rocks along
shore and beat upon the pebbly stretch below the bluff. Yet a fresh
breeze from the sea cooled the faces of the two who sought the
beach, and who found it pleasant enough in the shade of the great
boulders.
"It is something of a rough and tumble walk to come this way," said
Gwen, "but we can go back by the bluff, though this is shorter. Now,
sit down and tell me if you ever saw more beautiful pebbles. You
must find one, with a ring around it, for a talisman. While you are
doing that I will hunt for a big one to use at the front door; it will blow
shut. I want some pretty stones, too, just to look at."
"Just to look at?"
"Don't you like to look at pretty things?"
"Yes, at some kinds, at pretty girls, for instance. I like to look at you,
Miss Whitridge."
"What a very subtle compliment to be sure. Let us see which can
find the first and best talisman. If you find the best I shall never
forgive you."
"Then I'll not look for one."
"You must. That is the game. I won't play if you talk so."
"Very well, I'll look. What did you say they were like?"
"They are stones of one color with a circle of another color around
them. That is, you may find a gray stone with a ring of white, or of
darker gray, or of black, but the stone must be completely encircled;
it isn't any good if it's not."
"And what's the good if it is?"
"It is a talisman."
"What's that?"
"It will bring you luck."
"Now, Miss Whitridge, you are not so superstitious as to believe
that."
"Well, no, but it makes a nice little game to make believe you have
faith in its charm. I like make believes. I always did as a child."
"I suppose all children do, but they give it up when they are grown."
"I'm not so sure of that. You go that way and I'll go this, and we'll
meet at this big rock that looks like a huge rubber bag."
"Why can't we go together?"
"Because we might pounce upon the same stone, and you would be
too polite not to let me have it, while I would be too selfish to give it
up to you. The first one that finds will call the other."
They walked off in opposite directions, but Gwen, already familiar
with the ground, was the first to call out. "I have one, a beauty! Oh,
and here's a tiny one, too."
Mr. Mitchell hurried toward her. She held out the wee stone in her
palm. "You shall have this," she said, "and I hope it may bring you
good luck. The other I shall insist upon keeping."
"I think you are very generous to give me any," said Mr. Mitchell. "I
shall have this polished to wear upon my watch chain."
"Lovely!" cried Gwen. "You are improving, sir."
"In what way?"
"In your appreciation of what our island affords. But the game isn't
over. You must find a talisman, too."
"May I give it to you, if I do?"
"Certainly, unless you want to take it home to your mother."
"Oh, no, I can assure you she wouldn't value it in the least."
Gwen smiled. "I'll sit here and have a lovely time with the pebbles
while you are gone." She established herself on a rock with her back
to the high bluff, and bent over the store of pebbles in front of her
while Mr. Mitchell went on his quest. Presently she heard a
crunching sound behind her. "Already?" she said without looking up.
"Already, what? Do you mean that I have made a record in getting
down the bank? I saw you from above, and naturally, you see—"
"Oh, Mr. Hilary, I didn't know it was you."
"I hope you didn't think I was the jar-fly."
Gwen dimpled, then said with quite a dignified air: "You mustn't make
fun of my friends."
Kenneth grew immediately grave. "Of course not, if you don't wish
me to. I didn't realize that he was such a friend of yours. What have
you there?"
Gwen ignored the first part of his speech. "I have a talisman. Mr.
Mitchell has gone to find another for me."
"A talisman?" The young man took the stone she held out. "I'd like
one."
"You can easily find it. They are quite plentiful."
"Your friend hasn't found one, it seems."
"That's because—I mean there may not be so many at the end
where he is."
Kenneth stirred the loose stones with his foot. "Here is one," he said,
stooping to pick up a small pebble.
"Good! You didn't have to search long. Now you have your wish. You
possess a real talisman."
Kenneth tossed the pebble lightly from one hand to the other, as he
looked off to sea. Presently he threw himself down by the girl's side
and dropped the pebble into her lap. "Will you have it?" he said.
Gwen did not touch the stone. "But you have none," she answered.
"I shall have if you will give me one."
"I have only this big one, and I want that myself. Maybe I can find a
little one for you."
Kenneth did not detain her as she wandered further off, but sat
where she left him turning over the pebbles. When she returned he
had made a little pile of them. She stood for a moment watching him
gather them together and tie them up in his handkerchief.
"So you like them well enough to carry them home?" she said.
"Yes. Don't you?"
"Of course."
He held out his hand. "Did you find the talisman to add to my
collection?"
She put her hands behind her. "Which hand will you choose?" she
asked laughingly.
"Which hand?" he asked with emphasis. Then seeing an uplifting of
the chin he added, "The one with the talisman in it, which will be the
right one, of course."
"You are entirely too smart, but as you have guessed correctly I shall
have to give it to you. I think it's a beauty." She laid a small, perfectly
marked and well-shaped little pebble in his hand.
"Is it as nice as the jar-fly's?"
She held up an arresting finger. "If you talk that way I shall take it
back."
"You can't." He stowed the pebble safely away in an inside pocket,
and Gwen, seeing herself worsted, turned the subject.
"Let me see your collection," she said.
He untied his handkerchief and displayed the carefully selected
varieties. "Aren't they fine?" he said.
"They certainly are. I quite envy you the hoard. With the eye of an
artist you have made a judicious choice. By the way, why aren't you
sketching this afternoon?"
"Because I prefer to gather pebbles."
"It seems to me that you are in rather a—what shall I call it?—rather
a difficult mood."
"Am I?"
"Aren't you?"
"Perhaps."
"With this glorious sea and sky, and here where worldly cares cannot
touch us, we should never have moods."
"I am pleased that worldly cares cannot touch you. They do me."
"Oh, I am sorry. Would it be inquisitive to ask if anything very wrong
has happened?"
He was silent while he let the little hoard of pebbles slowly drop, one
by one, through his fingers. "You see," he said, "I happened to have
a very disturbing letter this morning. I suppose it isn't philosophical to
let such things irritate me, but they always do. The family fortunes
depend upon me, I am told."
"I should imagine they ought," returned Gwen a little severely.
He looked at her quickly. "Darn the family fortunes!" he said fiercely.
"Darn them if you will," retorted Gwen calmly, "but mend them in
some way, if they need mending."
He laughed, a boyish laugh, then became serious. "But you see," he
said, "in my opinion they aren't so much frayed and worn as some
persons imagine. They may not be in the very latest cut, but they do
pretty well except for such things as court receptions and so on. I
have relinquished my share in them, at all events, and am content to
be a thing of rags and patches myself for the sake of wielding a free
lance. But it seems that is not enough. I must give up all I love best,
and follow a career that I detest. The parting of the ways has been
reached and I must decide."
"At once?"
"By the end of the summer."
"Then wait till the end of the summer, and meanwhile do your best.
Enjoy the hour. Don't spoil it by being gloomy. Then, when the time
comes, make your decision. I find that when we face a blank wall,
which apparently has no way through it, often when we come up to
it, we suddenly see an opening. Leave it for the present. It does not
help things to worry over them. You remember the story of the old
man about to leave this life, who said to his sons, 'My children, I
have had a great many hard times in this world, but most of them
never happened.'"
Kenneth stood up and held out his hand. "Thank you," he said. "I
believe that is good advice. I'll try to follow it. Will you forgive me for
unloading my burdens upon you?"
"Since you agree to follow my advice, of course I forgive you. There
is nothing more flattering than to have your advice taken. Are you
going?"
"Yes, I see the jar—I see Mr. Mitchell coming. From the increased
buoyancy of his step I should say that he has found a talisman for
you."
"Please stay and meet him."
"No."
"It would perhaps be good policy to make a friend of him."
"Why?"
"Because—pardon the suggestion—he is wealthy. He likes our
island. He might buy some of your pictures."
Kenneth frowned.
"You don't like the idea, but it is practical. Aunt Cam says I have a
very practical streak for so romantic a somebody as I sometimes
am."
"I acknowledge that your hint is practical, and that you are quite
right, but I loathe being politic."
"Of course you do. You wouldn't be a really truly artist if you didn't.
But you must probably meet Mr. Mitchell some time, so why not
now?"
"True. All right." He stood with such a resigned expression as caused
Gwen's face to dimple into smiles, but she made no comment as she
went forward a step to meet Cephas Mitchell.
"I found one," he cried exultantly. "It is quite large. I will show it to
you. Don't you think it would be pretty decorated? I could get some
one to paint a little scene on it, and then it would be quite
ornamental."
Gwen heard Kenneth, behind her, give a smothered groan. She
turned with mischief in her eyes. "Perhaps Mr. Hilary would do it. He
is an artist. Let me present you to my friend Mr. Mitchell, Mr. Hilary."
Mr. Mitchell held out his hand. "This is a fortunate meeting, Mr.
Hilary. I wonder if you would care to undertake this little commission
for me. A small landscape, a bit of the island maybe, would be
appropriate."
"Unfortunately I am not a miniature painter," Kenneth answered with
dignity. Then catching Gwen's expression he added with some show
of interest, "But I am quite sure I know some one who can do it for
you, and if you will entrust the stone to me I will promise that your
order shall be filled satisfactorily, at a fair price," he added with a
slightly malicious grin.
"UNFORTUNATELY I'M NOT A MINIATURE PAINTER."
"Thanks awfully," returned Mr. Mitchell. "I don't know much about
such things myself, but I thought it might make a sort of paper
weight, or something useful like that." He looked at Gwen for
appreciation.
She thanked him so profusely that Kenneth moved to further malice
remarked to her. "I saw a lovely warming-pan painted with a wreath
of roses, in Miss Zerviah Hackett's parlor the other day, and she has
a sweet milking-stool tied with blue ribbons and painted with a
wreath of daisies, so suggestive, don't you think? I asked her if it
was her work, and she said no, it was done by a niece of hers from
Lewiston who had taken lessons off of a Miss Somebody-or-other at
school."
Gwen bit her lip. "I have seen them," she said. "Shall we walk on, or
haven't you had enough of Pebbly Beach, Mr. Mitchell?"
"Oh, I have had enough if you have," he made reply.
"There are lovely sea-weeds here," said Gwen. "I must come gather
some to use on menu cards. One can really arrange them beautifully
with a little care.
"I hope, Mr. Hilary," she turned to Kenneth, "that you don't
disapprove of that kind of art."
"I? Oh no. I quite agree with you that the sea-weeds are very
decorative, and the delicate forms, preserved in some such way as
you propose, are really worth looking at."
"Some of this stuff is good to eat, isn't it?" said Mr. Mitchell.
"Not just by itself. This kind," Gwen picked up a bit of the moss,
"when thoroughly washed and dried, can be used for what Miss
Zerviah calls 'blue monge.' Have you chanced to meet Miss Zerviah,
Mr. Mitchell? She is quite a character."
"I don't think I have even heard of her," was the reply.
"Then you still have something to live for. You may not have heard of
Miss Zerviah, but you may rest assured that she knows all about you
from the size of your collar to the number of your shoe."
"Dear me!" Mr. Mitchell looked uncomfortable.
"Let us hope it isn't quite as bad as that," said Kenneth. "She is not a
bad sort at all, Mr. Mitchell, a very kindly soul. If you fall ill she will be
the first to send you a dish of 'blue monge.' She has helped my sister
out of no end of difficulties. She was telling us rather a good story
yesterday. Have you happened to hear about Ora Tibbett's young
man, Miss Whitridge? The one who came over from the Neck to see
her last Sunday?"
"No, I haven't heard. I thought Manny Green was her young man."
"He has a rival it seems, some one whom Ora met at a dance, I
believe. He rowed over last Sunday and invited Ora for a walk. The
family were so pleased that Ora should countenance anyone beside
Manny that they invited the young man to supper. The boys of the
island, however, were not so willing that an outsider should infringe
upon what they considered their rights, and they took up the cudgels
in Manny's behalf. After supper there was another walk, we were
told, so that it was pretty late when the visitor went forth to get his
boat, but the boat wasn't there. He hunted high and low. He knew
just where he had tied it up, but not a sign of it was to be seen. He
appealed to everyone to help look for it, but it was not to be found."
"They had cut it adrift, of course," put in Mr. Mitchell.
Kenneth laughed. "Not a bit of it. They did better than that. They kept
the fellow searching about all night, and toward morning, just as it
was beginning to get light, he discovered it hanging up high between
two of the tall poplars in front of Cap'n Dave Purdy's house. They
had lashed ropes around it and hauled it up there, where it stayed till
he could get it down. 'I guess he won't come back,' Miss Zerviah
said."
"That's pretty good," Mr. Mitchell remarked. "It's a very curious place,
isn't it?"
"It is tremendously interesting," returned Gwen. "Last night we were
nearly scared to death by some one's tapping on the window pane.
Aunt Cam went to the door, and out of the darkness came a
sepulchral voice saying 'Do you want any lobsters?' We discovered it
to be a man who had 'shorts' to sell, and though we longed for them,
as they are so much sweeter and tenderer than the large ones, we
refrained from encouraging a violator of the laws, and didn't take any.
I don't know that we would have been so virtuous, if we had not been
sure of all we could use from another source."
"It is quite right, you know, to have such strict laws," said Mr.
Mitchell, "for if every one used shorts in a little while lobsters would
become very scarce, and in time there would be none at all."
"Of course it is right," agreed Gwen, "though it is funny to hear how
the lobstermen evade the vigilance of the officers. They are rarely
caught, for some one is always on the outlook to warn the men who
have any undersized lobsters on hand. But here we are on the
highroad. I suppose the mail must be in."
"I heard the boat whistle an hour ago," Kenneth told her.
"Then we'll go to the post-office. Shall we?"
They crossed over to the long flight of steps leading to the cove,
meeting on the way various persons coming from the post-office.
One of them exclaimed at sight of Gwen, "Why, Gwendolin
Whitridge, what are you doing here?"
"What are you doing here, Ethel Fuller?"
"That is just what I'd like to know myself," came the reply. "It is the
stupidest place I ever saw. Nothing to do all day but sit and look at
that monotonous old ocean. No board walk, no chance to wear your
good clothes, no band. I don't see what Aunt Harriet was thinking of
to choose such a spot, and we've taken our rooms for the season. I
shall try to persuade Aunt Harriet to leave early."
"Where are you staying?" asked Gwen.
"At a Mrs. Green's. Perfectly horrid, my dear."
Gwen smiled, but made no comment, then she presented her two
escorts and proposed that they all walk home together. "I'll show you
where we live," she said to Miss Fuller. "We think it is an ideal spot."
"But what do you find to do?"
"A thousand things. The days are all too short for all we want to do."
"Oh, I forgot that you are the romantic kind who likes scenery and
poetry and such things." She turned to Mr. Mitchell. "She takes
things too seriously. Now I am a regular butterfly."
"Really?" Mr. Mitchell wasn't sure that he approved entirely of
butterflies. "But you know," he went on, "we don't find Miss Whitridge
so very serious."
"Oh, don't you? Well, I don't mean that she never laughs. She is
really very full of fun sometimes, but she isn't the frivolous creature I
am."
Kenneth Hilary, who had gone on to get the mail, now returned with
his hands full of letters. "Two for you, Miss Whitridge," he said, "one
for your aunt, and some papers. Mr. Mitchell, these are yours, I
believe. The rest go our way."
Gwen tucked her letters into her blouse, and the four walked on,
Kenneth falling behind with Gwen. "There is to be a dance Saturday
night," he said, "the first of the season. Shall you go?"
"Of course. Do you think I would miss it?"
"And how many dances will you give me?"
"All that no one else asks for," returned Gwen saucily.
"The first, at least. No one has asked for that, because there hasn't
been a chance. I deserve another for telling you that the dance is to
be, and a third is due me on the ground of my being your escort, for I
shall come for you with our brand new lantern. I shall be satisfied
with those to start with."
"Modest creature. How do you know I will go with you?"
"You wouldn't be so snubby as not to, when you have not made the
engagement with anyone else. I am the bringer of the news, and of
course no one could get ahead of me. Besides, after the inquisitorial
rack you put me on awhile ago, I deserve to have my wounds
healed."
"You behaved so beautifully that I confess you do deserve some
compensation, so I'll promise to walk in the light of the lantern you've
been bragging about. As to the dances, we will see, though of
course you must have the first."
"I have heard several other frivolities discussed, so perhaps your
friend will find that there are attractions here, after all."
"She is a handsome girl, don't you think so?"
"Yes, rather, but not a bit paintable. She is not an artistic type."
"She is very popular," said Gwen. "The men all like her. Mrs. Dow,
her aunt, is a very proper sort of person, very conventional, very
churchy. She is extremely particular about her brand of religion. She
uses very little of it, and that generally on Sundays, but she likes to
have it of good quality."
"How exactly you get at the heart of things," returned Kenneth,
laughing. "The world is full of just that kind of people. You like Miss—
Fuller is her name?"
"I like her, yes. She isn't at all a bad sort. I've known her since we
were little tots who went to the same school. I've not a thing against
her except that lately she has acquired the broad a, and uses it too
lavishly, scarce an a escapes her. She says awnd and hawnd as
cheerfully as she does calm and alms. I believe the whole family
have adopted the pronunciation within the past year, and they
display it conspicuously, not as an inherent part of their speech, but
as a desirable adjunct."
"Broad a's are like genius," returned Kenneth, "they must be born in
one. They can't be very well acquired, I notice."
"Oh, some persons are quite successful in conquering them, but
Mrs. Dow's family pin them on. It is entirely too obvious that they
were not there in the first place. But, oh dear me, what am I doing,
slandering my neighbors? I must stop at once."
"You can scarcely call it slander. We might say it is only a species of
analysis. One has a right to analyze."
"Not too much. It gets one into a habit of being over critical, and that
deteriorates into fault-finding."
"So we must stop on the safe side. Very well. I shall begin at once to
praise your friend to the jar-fly—I beg your pardon—to Mr. Mitchell."
They followed on through the stile, and up the road skirting the
pasture, to the point beyond. And here the men left the two girls. At
parting Kenneth furtively opened his hand and displayed the little
talisman for a second.
"You won't forget to see about the landscape Mr. Mitchell wants
painted on my talisman," said Gwen, ignoring the pebble Kenneth
held.
He shut his fingers tightly. "I'll not forget," he said, and walked
abruptly away.
CHAPTER VII
WHITE HORSES
The two girls watched the men as they went off, and then
established themselves in porch chairs for a good talk. "It is a nice
situation," began Ethel, "but one can't live on views. As I said before
I can't imagine what you find to do, except to go to Portland for a
day's shopping."
"It is very gay here if you did but know it," Gwen assured her. "For
instance, we can take a motor-boat or can row or sail over to Jagged
Island, where we can have a clam bake, or merely a picnic luncheon,
as we feel inclined. We can go to the end of the island and be 'sot
over' to the next one, from which we can drive all the way to
Brunswick, coming home by way of the Neck, or going the other way
to Bath. We can even come back on the boat from New Meadows
river if we start in time. Then besides Jagged Island there are
dozens of the most beautiful places to explore, for Casco Bay is full
of lovely spots. Nearer home there are the Sheldon woods which are
a never-failing source of joy. Or, if we feel very lazy, right here in front
of our own cottage we have made a little fireplace on the rocks, so
we can have tea al fresco, without going a dozen yards away. After
this there will always be a dance on Saturday evenings, and
between whiles concerts and musical doings. So, don't dare to say
again that Fielding's Island is dull."
"You certainly do give quite a jolly list of entertainments,"
acknowledged Ethel. "What about dances? Do you really have
men?"
"Haven't I just presented two?"
"I imagined them the sole ones, and that you had been lucky enough
to capture both at one fell swoop."
"Oh, dear, no; there are others, and will be more next month when
the height of the season arrives."
"And can you really dress for balls? What do you wear?"
"Don't you dare to call them balls, and if I see you in anything more
elaborate than a white muslin frock I'll cut your acquaintance."
Ethel's face fell. "Oh, but—" she began.
"My dear, if you want merry-go-rounds, board walks and iron piers,
go to Atlantic City. You'll see no décolleté here except on the men.
Did you observe Mr. Mitchell's display of neck?"
"Who is he, anyhow? He dresses like a fisherman."
"Lovely!" cried Gwen. "I must tell him, for it is his dearest desire to be
taken for one, and he thinks he dresses for the part. Of course he
doesn't look the least little bit like those dear graceful creatures with
their unstudied picturesqueness and their free swinging strides, but
he believes in aping customs and looks as absurd in his get-up as he
would in Pekin if he adopted Chinese dress. Can you fancy Cephas
in a kimono, by the way?"
"Is that his name? How funny. What's his business?"
"I didn't intend to tell you before I made up my mind whether I should
take him for my very own, as I know your 'delutherin' ways, but I
shall have to confess that he does with steel, and is said to be worth
at least half a million."
"Gwen Whitridge, I don't believe you. That's only funny business on
your part."
"It is not. I declare it isn't. I have been looking for a millionaire, lo,
these many years, and now I have found one I don't intend to let the
first girl, who comes along, step in and rob me of my legitimate prey.
So 'keep off the grass.'"
"What about the other one?" asked Ethel.
"Only a poor artist, not worthy your powers of fascination," returned
Gwen indifferently.
"He might be good fun for a summer," remarked Ethel reflectively. "It
isn't fair for you to have two when I have none, you know, and the
artist, poor though he may be in pocket is much better off as to
looks."
"I shouldn't call him handsome," said Gwen.
"No, not exactly, but nice looking, well set up, carries himself with an
air. If you must have the millionaire, I shall take the artist."
Gwen opened the hand which had been clasping a small pebble
banded about by a dark line. She began tossing the little stone from
one hand to the other. "Take him by all means," she said, though
adding to herself, "if you can. There's Aunt Cam," she said aloud.
"She will be glad to see a neighbor."
Miss Elliott came out upon the porch. "Gwen," she said, "I do wish
you would see what can be done about a washerwoman. Lizzie can't
do the laundry work, you know, and I'd rather not send everything to
Portland. Do you suppose there is such a thing as a washerwoman
to be had?"
"I think it is quite possible," responded Gwen. "Miss Phosie was
telling me of one the other day. She lives at the other end of the
island. Mr. Mitchell and I are going to Water Cove to-morrow, and we
can hunt her up. Here's Ethel Fuller, Aunt Cam. We shall soon have
quite a colony from our city, sha'n't we?"
Miss Elliott came forward. "It is a surprise to see you here, my dear,"
she said holding out her hand. "Is your aunt with you?"
"Yes," Ethel told her. "We are at Mrs. Green's for the season."
"I hope you are comfortable."
"Fairly so, though we thought our rooms simply impossible when we
first came. Now that we have a rug or two, some comfortable chairs
from Portland, and a curtain to hang over our gowns, we shall do. My
mirror makes me look very long and Aunt Harriet's makes her look
very wide. We shall never know our proper proportions while we are
here."
"It might be well for you to exchange once in a while," suggested
Gwen. "Where have you been Aunt Cam? I saw you coming along
the shore path, not long ago."
"I have been out making calls, and I have brought home our supper
in the shape of half a dozen very large puff-ball mushrooms," she
added with a laugh.
"What amuses you?"
"I had such a funny time. First I went to the Grays to call on Mrs.
Mitchell, and, as there were other callers, Miss Celia and I had a
confidential chat upon the subject of supplies. She confided to me
that she was afraid to eat mushrooms, that some one had brought
her half a dozen big puff-balls this afternoon, and as she knew the
Colbys were fond of them she had sent them over there. I stopped at
the Colbys on my way to Miss Asquith's and there I learned that the
puff-balls had been regarded with suspicion and had been tendered
to Miss Maria Skinner. I happened to meet Miss Maria on the road.
She had just come from Miss Asquith's. 'Don't mention it,' she said. 'I
have been taking over some large mushrooms that Mrs. Colby sent
me. I was really a trifle afraid of them, so knowing Miss Asquith was
very fond of them, I took them to her. The little meadow, button
mushrooms I am quite willing to eat, but these monstrosities I really
don't feel equal to.' But they are very good, I assured her. I shouldn't
be afraid to eat them. 'Really?' said Miss Maria, 'then I am sorry I
didn't meet you first.'
"We parted and I pursued my way to Miss Asquith's. I found her
examining the gift which Miss Maria had just left. 'See these curious
things,' she said. 'Of course I am not in the least afraid of
mushrooms, particularly when I know these are fresh, but we happen
to have something else for supper, and they should not be kept over.
My dear Miss Elliott, won't you have them?' 'I'll take them gladly,' I
said. 'You won't mention to Miss Maria that I didn't use them,' said
Miss Asquith, and I promised. So here they are and they go no
further. They stop in this house, for you and I, Gwen, are not afraid of
them."
The girls laughed. "That is a story worth telling," said Gwen. "What
funny things do happen up here. Do tell us something else, Aunt
Cam. I know Miss Maria must have had some good tale. She has
such a keen sense of humor."
"Miss Maria is inimitable," responded Miss Elliott. "She was funny
when she was telling me her tribulations over getting certain things
done. I wish you could have heard her on the subject of her lattice.
'Behold it,' she said, 'a brilliant green, caterpillar's blood I call it. My
dear, it was intended to match the house. I saw it in my mind's eye a
neutral gray with white trimmings. When I came down this morning,
my maid told me the painter was at work. I was rejoiced, for I had
been waiting weeks for him. I rushed out on the porch, and then I
screamed, I actually screamed. "Abiel Toothacre," I said, "what do
you mean by painting my lattice green? It was to have been gray to
match the house." Abiel rose to his feet, scratched his head and
looked at me in a dazed way. "I believe, Miss Maria," he drawled,
"that Thad Eaton did say something about its being a sorter drab, but
I went to Stork's and he was out of white paint altogether, and hadn't
but a little wee mite of black. We looked over his stawk and there
seemed to be more of this here green than anything else, so, as I
heard you was in a hurry, I fetched it along. Nice lively green, Miss
Maria. Looks real fresh and nice." In a hurry!' she gasped, 'and I had
been waiting six weeks! Isn't it tragic? However I was so thankful it
wasn't a magenta pink or a cerulean blue, that I didn't say a word.'"
Miss Elliott was not a bad imitator herself, and the girls saw the
scene vividly. "I must stop and condole with her the next time I go
that way," said Gwen. "We have troubles of our own, Ethel.
Yesterday we had planned for lamb chops with potatoes and peas;
our dinner turned out to be veal cutlets, lettuce and rice. There is
really a charm in the uncertainty. It is absolutely exciting to surmise,
and we both rush to the kitchen when the man brings the order, for it
is so liable to be different from that we expected. Sometimes we
don't get anything, and then we have to fall back on the box of
supplies we had sent from Shaw's when we first came. Any more
news, Aunt Cam?"
"No, I believe not. I saw Mr. Williams as I came by Cap'n Ben's. He
reminds me of some one I have seen, and I cannot think who it is."
"Dear Mr. Williams," said Gwen enthusiastically. "He is my love,
Ethel. The very dearest man on the island."
"Millionaires excepted."
"No one excepted. I don't know what we should do without him. Did
you see Miss Phosie, Aunt Cam?"
"Yes, and I asked her about the milk. We can have more next week.
What do you suppose Mrs. Baldwin said when I told her the milk was
sour this morning?"
"Can't imagine. I hope she said that, of course, you couldn't be
expected to pay for milk you couldn't use."
"Not a bit of it. She said 'What can you expect when the milk's two
hours coming from Portland, and then sets out in the sun for an hour
before it's delivered?'"
"Aunt Cam! Did you ever?" Gwen exclaimed. "What did you say?"
"My dear, I was so taken aback I said nothing. Our points of view
were so different that an argument would have been useless. It is
quite on a par with the chicken experience. Last Sunday, Ethel, we
had such a tough fowl that no amount of boiling, baking or stewing
could make it fit to eat. We'd had a very nice one the week before.
But what do you think Dan Stork said when we complained? With the
most innocent of smiles he answered, 'That so, Miss Elliott? Well,
such is life; tender chicken last week, tough one, this.'"
"I am getting quite an insight into matters and things," said Ethel
after the laugh had subsided. "I believe, after all, one needn't be
bored here."
"Come with us to Water Cove to-morrow," said Gwen. "I will share
Cephas with you for one afternoon, and I can show you some
interesting types. Have you seen Miss Zerviah Hackett? And what do
you think of Mrs. Green?"
"She is kindness itself, although I think our demands for clean towels
and a few other things rather appal her. She gives us excellent and
abundant food, even though it may not be served in exactly such a
way as we are accustomed. Now that I have discovered you all, I
shall be much better contented. I'd like to go with you to-morrow,
Gwen, if you really want me."
"Can you doubt it when I needed no hint to make the proposition?
We'll stop for you about four. You won't stay to sample the
mushrooms? We'll guarantee that they will not poison you."
"No, I must go. Auntie will think I am lost."
Gwen watched her mount the path which led to the road. "She isn't
quite so frivolous as she would have us believe," she said, turning to
where her aunt had stood. But Miss Elliott had disappeared and
Gwen settled herself in the hammock where she lay looking off at
sea. The tide was coming in and was almost at its height. The water
was rougher than it had been in the morning, and every now and
then tossed up a shower of spray against the rocks. On the opposite
point the towering evergreens were outlined sharply against the sky.
In a few minutes a bright light flashed out from beyond the curving
line of mainland to the left. "Good evening, Seguin," Gwen nodded,
and then turned her eyes again toward the incoming waves.
"Beautiful white horses, wild white horses!" she murmured as she
swung slowly in her hammock. Presently she raised herself and sat
up. An erect figure upon the rocks stood out distinctly. "What's he
doing down there?" said Gwen in a low voice. "Why doesn't he keep
his own side the fence?" The man, watching the water, turned and
looked toward the porch. Gwen dropped back again and continued
her swinging, though she was conscious that the figure was
approaching nearer. She did not speak till it paused in front of the
porch. "Well, Mr. Hilary," she said, "what are you doing over here?
It's too dark to paint, isn't it?"
"Quite too dark, but I have been studying the effect of evening light
upon the water, and the forms, whorls and arabesques down there
where the waves come in. I shall paint it to-morrow. At least I shall

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International Relations and Political

Philosophy Martin Wight

Cover image: photo-nuke/Shutterstock.com

Hedley Bull listed Wight among scholars pursuing a ‘classical approach’ to

‘Western Values in International Relations’—outlined Wight’s path-­ breaking

Wight’s work remains relevant today because he incisively analysed perennial

An illustration of the continuing relevance of Wight’s contribution is the steady

International Society’ (2014); Bruno Mendelski, ‘The Historiography of

Introduction: Martin Wight and the Political Philosophy

22. Review of Hugh Ross Williamson, Charles and Cromwell

Martin Wight wrote path-­breaking works on international history, foreign policy,

Traditions of Thinking about International Politics

Wight analysed traditions of thinking about international politics in Europe and

Wight’s most extensive work on the political philosophy of international relations

11 Wight, International Theory: The Three Traditions, pp. 14–15.

Furthermore, to be faithful to the historical evidence, Wight identified subcat-

16 Wight, International Theory: The Three Traditions, p. 259, emphasis in original.

‘Kaplan’s System and Process’

Of the “new” works by Wight on political philosophy—that is, previously unpub-

31 Wight, International Theory: The Three Traditions, pp. 109–110.

‘Why Is There No International Theory?’

‘An Anatomy of International Thought’

anarchical competition is to make a contract for a ruler or an assembly to take

‘Western Values in International Relations’

‘The Balance of Power’ in The World in March 1939

‘Is There a Philosophy of Statesmanship?’

This previously unpublished lecture is noteworthy on multiple grounds, notably

‘The Communist Theory of International Relations’

In this previously unpublished paper, Wight analysed the distinctive effects of

The Causes and Functions of War

‘The Causes of War: An Historian’s View’

This paper concentrates on distinct combinations of motives to use force. These

‘Gain, Fear and Glory: Reflections on the Nature

On the Abolition of War: Observations on a

about ‘desirable change’, gaining independence, preserving independence, and

International and Regime Legitimacy

Wight prepared several papers on legitimacy in domestic and international pol­it­

Wight defined international legitimacy as ‘the collective judgment of ­inter­nation­al

New principles, such as territorial contiguity and integrity, influenced decisions

‘Reflections on International Legitimacy’

In this essay Wight clarified the importance of dynastic legitimacy—that is,

The American and French Revolutions derived from—and promoted—a concept

‘What Confers Political Legitimacy in a Modern Society?’

Links Between Regime and International Legitimacy

As Wight observed, Burke’s belief in the ‘indefeasible principle of legitimacy in

Fortune and Irony in International Politics

Wight qualified his orderly analysis of traditions of international thought, the

international legitimacy by drawing attention to unpredictable ‘wild card’ factors

Referring in ‘Fortune’s Banter’ to these remarks by Dulles, Wight highlighted the

It is a vivid restatement of the Machiavellian philosophy of politics, combining

Causation and the Role of Ideas in International Politics

‘Political theory’ is a phrase that in general requires no explanation.*,** It is used

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‘Western Values in International Relations’—outlined Wight’s path- breaking

Martin Wight wrote path-breaking works on international history, foreign policy,

Wight prepared several papers on legitimacy in domestic and international polit

Wight defined international legitimacy as ‘the collective judgment of international