IN 1590 the armies of Henry the Fourth, of France, and of the Duke of Mayenne, assembled near Ivry, which is not far from Paris. It was in March, and the weather was very stormy. As night came, the vast hordes of soldiers dragging their cannon through the deep mire, took position for the awful conflict about to open. Henry had about twelve thousand men, and the Duke nearly twenty thousand. Before the dawn, Henry mounted his charger, and, riding along his lines, addressed them in words of cheer. He urged upon them fidelity to France and to themselves. In conclusion he said: “If in the turmoil of battle you lose sight of your banner, follow the white plume on my casque; you will find it on the road to victory and to honor.”

Oh! what a conflict did Ivry see that day! My dear little friends, I never could understand why men love war. I never could see any good it has ever done, but, on the contrary, war and intemperance have made this world a sad and gloomy place. Read a full account of this battle, and I think you will agree with me, that war has no charms. Maddened battalions rushed over the plain, crushing the poor wounded men. Grapeshot mowed down whole ranks, and shrieks of anguish echoed over the field. In a single hour the plain was baptized in blood. Henry came off victorious, but it was a victory dearly bought. In the fearful retreat two thousand were put to the sword, and many captured. I imagine that all France was hung in mourning after that awful day, and thousands of homes were robbed of their treasures. Do not you think it will be a happy day when warriors’ steeds shall be forever chained in olive groves, and all men shall love each other? I trust so long as we live peace, with dovelike wings, shall brood over our beloved land!

Ringwood.