on ten thousand spheres of life once usefully and happily filled by fathers, sons, husbands, brothers. Let us hope, and labor, and pray, that the day may not be far distant when civilized and Christian men will see the madness of war, its bald inconsistency with the theory of a republican government, its hostility to the spirit of the present age, and its nullification of every law, and promise, and prayer of the Lord Jesus Christ.

CHAPTER XXX.

PACIFICATION OF THE WORLD.

"When the drums shall throb no longer,

And the battle-flags be furled

In the Parliament of man,

The Federation of the world."- TENNYSON.

"Neither shall they learn war any more." - ISAIAH.

SINCE war has so many evils, and peace so many blessings, may we not labor with hope for the fulfilment of the prophet's vision? Since the expenditures of military expeditions, the destruction of multitudes of lives, the barbarities, executions, illegalities, personal, domestic, and political evils, the vices of the camp, the creation of a species of martial literature, the introduction of false maxims of conduct, and the counteraction of the Gospel by the war-spirit, chargeable upon our conflict with Mexico, are virtually the same in all wars, may we not hope that the good sense of mankind, and their feelings of human brotherhood, will

finally gain such a predominance as to effect the pacification of the whole world? And, especially, is not this expectation encouraged by the well known fact that many other evil customs and habits have disappeared and are disappearing before the more Christian civilization of the present day? What now is witchcraft? An obsolete superstition. Where are torture, and the appeal to fire, or water? Laid away among exploded ideas. Where are the Inquisition and persecution for heresy? Gone beyond all power of recall. Where are privateering, and piracy, and the slave trade? All entered in the "Index Expurgatorius" of international law. Where are slavery, intemperance, and war? Gradually falling under the same ban, and no longer acquiesced in as necessary evils, but recognized as mutable and capable of eradication with the other corrupt usages specified, if efficient and Christian means be applied, with faith and perseverance, for their removal. The day is gone for any man, with the Bible in his hand, and God and heaven above him, to say that war must be eternal. We do not presume to date the year or century of the laying aside by the nations of their cumbrous coats of mail, and the disarmament of their numerous troops and squadrons, and the establishment of those modes of adjusting international difficulties detailed in the last chapter. But we see already symptoms of returning health in the body politic, though joined with some other prognostics less favorable. Cases of mediation, arbitration, and peaceable intervention, are multiplying. Treaties are constructed with more reference to permanency. It has become fashionable even for kings and statesmen, out of deference to a certain rising public sentiment of mankind, to speak well of peace. War has been summoned to answer for itself before the judgment-seat of civilization and of Christianity, and it is found to make but a poor justification. The friends of peace are in earnest and increasing. The solitary protestations of a Penn or Worcester

have multiplied into the deep-toned remonstrances of a London, a Brussels, and a Paris World's Convention of Peace. The press and the pulpit are enlisted. The power of association is invoked. "Olive leaves" are flying far and near. While, therefore, the drum-beat still heralds the morning sun round the globe, we will not so far distrust God, or despair of our race, as to believe that, when daily triumphs are achieved over the brute elements of nature; and fire, and water, and steam, and magnetism, and electricity are bowed to the service and control of man, he is never to acquire any better government over those brutal passions of his own nature, whose outbreaks are far more disastrous to life and happiness than the volcano, the earthquake, or the hurricane.

When we consider how little has been done to prevent war, and how much to cultivate its spirit, and to invest its feats with a factitious glory; how literature and the fine arts, and politics, and, sad to confess, even professed Christians have encouraged, applauded, and diffused the passion for arms, we wonder not at the frequency of battles, and the human blood that has stained half the land and sea of the whole earth. Indeed the martial spirit has been so prevalent, mankind have drunk it so greedily as if it were as innocent as water, that we are prone to forget what a thorough education we give our children for war, and how little we do for the pacification of the world.

For when we inquire how this vast underlying passion for war has been educated and ripened in the heart of society, we shall be constrained to answer: It is by the war-songs of childhood, and the studies of the classics. It is by the wooden sword, and the tin drum of boyhood. It is by the trainings and the annual muster. It is by the red uniform and the white plume, and the prancing steed. It is by the cannon's thunder, and the gleam of the bayonet. It is by ballads of Robin Hood, and histories of Napoleon, and "Tales of the Crusaders." It is by the presentation of flags by the hands of

the fair, and the huzzas for a victory. It is by the example of the father and the consent of the mother. It is by the fear of cowardice, and the laugh of the scorner. It is by the blood of youth, and the pride of manhood, and stories of revolutionary sires. It is by standing armies, and majestic men-of-war. It is by the maxims of self defence, and the cheapness of human life, and the love of excitement. It is by novels of love, and the "Pirate's Own Book." It is by the jars of home, and the squabbles of party, and the controversies of sects. It is by the misconception of the Bible, and ignorance of God. It is by the bubble of glory, and the emulation of schools, and the graspings of money-making. By one and by all, the heart of the community is educated for war, from the cradle to the coffin. When we sow the seed so copiously, we must not complain that the harvest is abundant.

And if we would inquire, how the heart of the world can be calmed, and enlarged, and inspired with the life-breath of peace; we can only say that such a heart comes from the nurture of home, and the solemnity of the church, and the tomb of the loved and gone. It comes by the closet of prayer, and the communion of nature, and the table of the Lord. It comes by a sister's love and a brother's example, and the memory of "the good old place." It comes in the distilling dew of Christian instruction and the infinite sanctions of death, judgment, and eternity. It comes by the sweetness of Fenelon, and the love of Scougal; by the majesty of Luther, and the humanity of Penn. It comes by the horror of blood, and the courage to be a coward in the wrong. It comes by the testimonies of the wise, and the heroism of the good. It comes by the Beatitudes of the New Testament, and the Lord's Prayer, and Paul's masterpiece of Charity, and John's epistle of Love. It comes by him who was born in a manger and died on a cross, the Son of God, the Prince of Peace, the Saviour of sinners.

By these means the weaker spirit of war may be made to yield to the mightier spirit of peace. "And," in the words of an English divine,* suggestive of some of the foregoing remarks, "it must appear to what most awful obligation and duty we hold all those from whom this heart takes its nature and shape, our king, our princes, our nobles, all who wear the badge of office, or honor; all priests, judges, senators, pleaders, interpreters of law, all instructors of youth, all seminaries of education, all parents, all learned men, all professors of science and art, all teachers of manners. Upon them depends the fashion of the nation's heart. By them it is to be chastised, refined, and purified. By them is the state to lose the character and title of the beast of prey. By them are the iron scales to fall off, and a skin of youth, beauty, freshness, and polish, to come upon it. By them it is to be made so tame and gentle as that a child may lead it.”

CHAPTER XXXI.

CONCLUSION.

"I have been apt to think there never has been, nor ever will be, any

such thing as a good war, or a bad peace."-FRANKLIN.

Then, at least shall it be seen, that there can be no peace that is not honorable, and there can be no war that is not dishonorable.". SUMNER.

CHARLES

AN able writer of the present day has said, that “the philosophical study of facts may be undertaken for three different purposes; the simple description of the facts; their

*Rev. Dr. Ramsden.