Mr. President and Gentlemen,—We are assembled in what may be called the Holy Week of our community,—not occupied by pomps of a complex ceremonial, swelling in tides of music, beneath time-honored arches, but set apart, with the unadorned simplicity of early custom, to anniversary meetings of those charitable and religious associations from whose good works our country derives such true honor. Each association is distinct. Gathered within the folds of each are its own members, devoted to its chosen objects: and yet all are harmonious together; for all are inspired by one sentiment,—the welfare of the united Human Family. Each has its own separate orbit, a pathway of light; while all together constitute a system which moves in a still grander orbit.

Among all these associations, none is so truly comprehensive as ours. The prisoner in his cell, the slave in his chains, the sailor on ocean wanderings, the Pagan on far off continent or island, and the ignorant here at home, will all be commended by eloquent voices. I need not say that you should listen to these voices, and answer to their appeal. But, while mindful of these interests, justly claiming your care, it is my present and most grateful duty to commend that other cause, the great cause of Peace, which in its wider embrace enfolds prisoner, slave, sailor, the ignorant, all mankind,—which to each of these charities is the source of strength and light, I may say of life itself, as the sun in the heavens.

Peace is the grand Christian charity, fountain and parent of all other charities. Let Peace be removed, and all other charities sicken and die. Let Peace exert her gladsome sway, and all other charities quicken into life. Peace is the distinctive promise and possession of Christianity,—so much so, that, where Peace is not, Christianity cannot be. It is also the promise of Heaven, being the beautiful consummation of that rest and felicity which the saints above are said to enjoy. There is nothing elevated which is not exalted by Peace. There is nothing valuable which does not gain from Peace. Of Wisdom herself it is said, that all her ways are pleasantness, and all her paths are Peace. And these golden words are refined by the saying of the Christian Father, that the perfection of joy is Peace. Naturally Peace is the longing and aspiration of the noblest souls, whether for themselves or for country. In the bitterness of exile, away from the Florence immortalized by his divine poem, and pacing the cloisters of a convent, where a sympathetic monk inquired, "What do you seek?" Dante answered, in accents distilled from the heart, "Peace!"[279] In the memorable English struggles, while King and Parliament were rending the land, a gallant supporter of monarchy, the chivalrous Falkland, touched by the intolerable woes of War, cried, in words which consecrate his memory more than any feat of arms, "Peace! peace!"[280] Not in aspiration only, but in benediction, is this word uttered. As the Apostle went forth on his errand, as the son forsook his father's roof, the choicest blessing was, "Peace be with you!" When the Saviour was born, angels from heaven, amidst choiring melodies, let fall that supreme benediction, never before vouchsafed to the children of the Human Family, "Peace on earth, and good-will towards men!"

To maintain this charity, to promote these aspirations, to welcome these benedictions, is the object of our Society. To fill men in private with all those sentiments which make for Peace, to lead men in public to the recognition of those paramount principles which are the safeguard of Peace, above all, to teach the True Grandeur of Peace, and to unfold the folly and wickedness of the Institution of War and of the War System, now recognized and established by the Commonwealth of Nations as the mode of determining international controversies,—such is the object of our Society.

There are persons who allow themselves sometimes to speak of associations like ours, if not with disapprobation, at least with levity and distrust. A writer so humane and genial as Robert Southey left on record a gibe at the "Society for the Abolition of War," saying that it had "not obtained sufficient notice even to be in disrepute."[281] It is not uncommon to hear our aims characterized as visionary, impracticable, Utopian. Sometimes it is hastily said that they are contrary to the nature of man, that they require for success a complete reconstruction of human character, and that they necessarily assume in man qualities, capacities, and virtues which do not belong to his nature. This mistaken idea was once strongly expressed in the taunt, that "an Anti-War Society is as little practicable as an Anti-Thunder-and-Lightning Society."[282]

Never a moment when this beautiful cause was not the occasion of jest, varying with the character of the objector. More than a century ago there was something of this kind, which arrested the attention of no less a person than Leibnitz, and afterwards of Fontenelle. It was where an elegant Dutch trifler, as described by Leibnitz, following the custom of his country, placed as a sign over his door the motto, To Perpetual Peace, with the picture of a cemetery,—meaning to suggest that only with the dead could this desire of good men be fulfilled. Not with the living, so the elegant Dutch trifler proclaimed over his door. A different person, also of Holland, who was both diplomatist and historian, the scholarly Aitzema, caught the jest, and illustrated it by a Latin couplet:—

which, being translated, means, "Traveller, who seekest Peace and Liberty, either nowhere or under that mound thou wilt find them."[283] Do not fail to observe that Liberty is here doomed to the same grave as Peace. Alas, that there should be such despair! At length Liberty is rising. May not Peace rise also?

Doubtless objections, to say nothing of jests, striking at the heart of our cause, exert a certain influence over the public mind. They often proceed from persons of sincerity and goodness, who would rejoice to see the truth as we see it. But, plausible as they appear to those who have not properly meditated this subject, I cannot but regard them—I believe that all who candidly listen to me must hereafter regard them—as prejudices, without foundation in sense or reason, which must yield to a plain and careful examination of the precise objects proposed.

Let me not content myself, in response to these critics, with the easy answer, that, if our aims are visionary, impracticable, Utopian, then the unfulfilled promises of the Scriptures are vain,—then the Lord's Prayer, in which we ask that God's kingdom may come on earth, is a mockery,—then Christianity is no better than the statutes of Utopia. Let me not content myself with reminding you that all the great reforms by which mankind have been advanced encountered similar objections,—that the abolition of the punishment of death for theft, so long delayed, was first suggested in the "Utopia" of Sir Thomas More,—that the efforts to abolish the slave-trade were opposed, almost in our day, as visionary,—in short, that all endeavors for human improvement, for knowledge, for freedom, for virtue, all the great causes which dignify human history, and save it from being a mere protracted War Bulletin, a common sewer, a Cloaca Maxima, flooded with perpetual uncleanness, have been pronounced Utopian,—while, in spite of distrust, prejudice, and enmity, all these causes gradually found acceptance, as they gradually came to be understood, and the aspirations of one age became the acquisitions of the next.

Satisfactory to some as this answer might be, I cannot content myself with leaving our cause in this way. I shall meet all assaults, and show, by careful exposition, that our objects are in no respect visionary,—that the cause of Peace does not depend upon any reconstruction of the human character, or upon holding in check the general laws of man's being,—but that it deals with man as he is, according to the experience of history,—and, above all, that our immediate and particular aim, the abolition of the Institution of War, and of the whole War System, as established Arbiter of Right in the Commonwealth of Nations, is as practicable as it would be beneficent.

I begin by putting aside questions, often pushed forward, which an accurate analysis shows to be independent of the true issue. Their introduction has perplexed the discussion, by transferring to the great cause of International Peace doubts which do not belong to it.

One of these is the declared right, inherent in each individual, to take the life of an assailant in order to save his own life,—compendiously called the Right of Self-Defence, usually recognized by philosophers and publicists as founded in Nature and the instincts of men. The exercise of this right is carefully restricted to cases where life itself is in actual jeopardy. No defence of property, no vindication of what is called personal honor, justifies this extreme resort. Nor does this right imply the right of attack; for, instead of attacking one another, on account of injuries past or impending, men need only resort to the proper tribunals of justice. There are, however, many most respectable persons, particularly of the denomination of Friends, some of whom I may now have the honor of addressing, who believe that the exercise of this right, even thus limited, is in direct contravention of Christian precepts. Their views find faithful utterance in the writings of Jonathan Dymond, of which at least this may be said, that they strengthen and elevate, even if they do not always satisfy, the understanding. "We shall be asked," says Dymond, "'Suppose a ruffian breaks into your house, and rushes into your room with his arm lifted to murder you; do you not believe that Christianity allows you to kill him?' This is the last refuge of the cause. Our answer to it is explicit,—We do not believe it."[284] While thus candidly and openly avowing an extreme sentiment of non-resistance, this excellent person is careful to remind the reader that the case of the ruffian does not practically illustrate the true character of War, unless it appears that war is undertaken simply for the preservation of life, when no other alternative remains to a people than to kill or be killed. According to this view, the robber on land who places his pistol at the breast of the traveller, the pirate who threatens life on the high seas, and the riotous disturber of the public peace who puts life in jeopardy at home, cannot be opposed by the sacrifice of life. Of course all who subscribe to this renunciation of self-defence must join in efforts to abolish the Arbitrament of War. Our appeal is to the larger number who make no such application of Christian precepts, who recognize the right of self-defence as belonging to each individual, and who believe in the necessity at times of exercising this right, whether against a robber, a pirate, or a mob.

Another question, closely connected with that of self-defence, is the asserted Right of Revolt or Revolution. Shall a people endure political oppression, or the denial of freedom, without resistance? The answer to this question will necessarily affect the rights of three million fellow-citizens held in slavery among us. If such a right unqualifiedly exists,—and sympathy with our fathers, and with the struggles for freedom now agitating Europe, must make us hesitate to question its existence,—then these three millions of fellow-men, into whose souls we thrust the iron of the deadliest bondage the world has yet witnessed, must be justified in resisting to death the power that holds them. A popular writer on ethics, Dr. Paley, has said: "It may be as much a duty at one time to resist Government as it is at another to obey it,—to wit, whenever more advantage will in our opinion accrue to the community from resistance than mischief. The lawfulness of resistance, or the lawfulness of a revolt, does not depend alone upon the grievance which is sustained or feared, but also upon the probable expense and event of the contest."[285] This view distinctly recognizes the right of resistance, but limits it by the chance of success, founding it on no higher ground than expediency. A right thus vaguely defined and bounded must be invoked with reluctance and distrust. The lover of Peace, while admitting, that, unhappily, in the present state of the world, an exigency for its exercise may arise, must confess the inherent barbarism of such an agency, and admire, even if he cannot entirely adopt, the sentiment of Daniel O'Connell: "Remember that no political change is worth a single crime, or, above all, a single drop of human blood."

These questions I put aside, not as unimportant, not as unworthy of careful consideration, but as unessential to the cause which I now present. If I am asked—as advocates of Peace are often asked—whether a robber, a pirate, a mob, may be resisted by the sacrifice of life, I answer, that they may be so resisted,—mournfully, necessarily. If I am asked to sympathize with the efforts for freedom now finding vent in rebellion and revolution, I cannot hesitate to say, that, wherever Freedom struggles, wherever Right is, there my sympathies must be. And I believe I speak not only for myself, but for our Society, when I add, that, while it is our constant aim to diffuse those sentiments which promote good-will in all the relations of life, which exhibit the beauty of Peace everywhere, in national affairs as well as international, and while especially recognizing that central truth, the Brotherhood of Man, in whose noonday light all violence among men is dismal and abhorred as among brothers, it is nevertheless no part of our purpose to impeach the right to take life in self-defence or when the public necessity requires, nor to question the justifiableness of resistance to outrage and oppression. On these points there are diversities of opinion among the friends of Peace, which this Society, confining itself to efforts for the overthrow of War, is not constrained to determine.

Waiving, then, these matters, with their perplexities and difficulties, which do not in any respect belong to the cause, I come now to the precise object we hope to accomplish,—The Abolition of the Institution of War, and of the whole War System, as an established Arbiter of Justice in the Commonwealth of Nations. In the accurate statement of our aims you will at once perceive the strength of our position. Much is always gained by a clear understanding of the question in issue; and the cause of Peace unquestionably suffers often because it is misrepresented or not fully comprehended. In the hope of removing this difficulty, I shall first unfold the true character of War and the War System, involving the question of Preparations for War, and the question of a Militia. The way will then be open, in the second branch of this Address, for a consideration of the means by which this system can be overthrown. Here I shall exhibit the examples of nations, and the efforts of individuals, constituting the Peace Movement, with the auguries of its triumph, briefly touching, at the close, on our duties to this great cause, and the vanity of Military Glory. In all that I say I cannot forget that I am addressing a Christian association, for a Christian charity, in a Christian church.

I.

And, first, of War and the War System in the Commonwealth of Nations. By the Commonwealth of Nations I understand the Fraternity of Christian Nations recognizing a Common Law in their relations with each other, usually called the Law of Nations. This law, being established by the consent of nations, is not necessarily the law of all nations, but only of such as recognize it. The Europeans and the Orientals often differ with regard to its provisions; nor would it be proper to say, that, at this time, the Ottomans, or the Mahometans in general, or the Chinese, have become parties to it.[286] The prevailing elements of this law are the Law of Nature, the truths of Christianity, the usages of nations, the opinions of publicists, and the written texts or enactments found in diplomatic acts or treaties. In origin and growth it is not unlike the various systems of municipal jurisprudence, all of which are referred to kindred sources.

It is often said, in excuse for the allowance of War, that nations are independent, and acknowledge no common superior. True, indeed, they are politically independent, and acknowledge no common political sovereign, with power to enforce the law. But they do acknowledge a common superior, of unquestioned influence and authority, whose rules they are bound to obey. This common superior, acknowledged by all, is none other than the Law of Nations, with the Law of Nature as a controlling element. It were superfluous to dwell at length upon opinions of publicists and jurists declaring this supremacy. "The Law of Nature," says Vattel, a classic in this department, "is not less obligatory with respect to states, or to men united in political society, than to individuals."[287] An eminent English authority, Lord Stowell, so famous as Sir William Scott, says, "The Conventional Law of Mankind, which is evidenced in their practice, allows some and prohibits other modes of destruction."[288] A recent German jurist says, "A nation associating itself with the general society of nations thereby recognizes a law common to all nations, by which its international relations are to be regulated."[289] Lastly, a popular English moralist, whom I have already quoted, and to whom I refer because his name is so familiar, Dr. Paley, says, that the principal part of what is called the Law of Nations derives its obligatory character "simply from the fact of its being established, and the general duty of conforming to established rules upon questions and between parties where nothing but positive regulations can prevent disputes, and where disputes are followed by such destructive consequences."[290]

The Law of Nations is, then, the Supreme Law of the Commonwealth of Nations, governing their relations with each other, determining their reciprocal rights, and sanctioning all remedies for the violation of these rights. To the Commonwealth of Nations this law is what the Constitution and Municipal Law of Massachusetts are to the associate towns and counties composing the State, or what, by apter illustration, the National Constitution of our Union is to the thirty several States which now recognize it as the supreme law.

But the Law of Nations,—and here is a point of infinite importance to the clear understanding of the subject,—while anticipating and providing for controversies between nations, recognizes and establishes War as final Arbiter. It distinctly says to nations, "If you cannot agree together, then stake your cause upon Trial by Battle." The mode of trial thus recognized and established has its own procedure, with rules and regulations, under the name of Laws of War, constituting a branch of International Law. "The Laws of War," says Dr. Paley, "are part of the Law of Nations, and founded, as to their authority, upon the same principle with the rest of that code, namely, upon the fact of their being established, no matter when or by whom."[291] Nobody doubts that the Laws of War are established by nations.

It is not uncommon to speak of the practice of War, or the custom of War,—a term adopted by that devoted friend of Peace, the late Noah Worcester. Its apologists and expounders have called it "a judicial trial,"—"one of the highest trials of right,"—"a process of justice,"—"an appeal for justice,"—"a mode of obtaining rights,"—"a prosecution of rights by force,"—"a mode of condign punishment." I prefer to characterize it as an Institution, established by the Commonwealth of Nations as Arbiter of Justice. As Slavery is an Institution, growing out of local custom, sanctioned, defined, and established by Municipal Law, so War is an Institution, growing out of general custom, sanctioned, defined, and established by the Law of Nations.

Only when we contemplate War in this light can we fully perceive its combined folly and wickedness. Let me bring this home to your minds. Boston and Cambridge are adjoining towns, separated by the River Charles. In the event of controversy between these different jurisdictions, the Municipal Law establishes a judicial tribunal, and not War, as arbiter. Ascending higher, in the event of controversy between two different counties, as between Essex and Middlesex, the same Municipal Law establishes a judicial tribunal, and not War, as arbiter. Ascending yet higher, in the event of controversy between two different States of our Union, the Constitution establishes a judicial tribunal, the Supreme Court of the United States, and not War, as arbiter. But now mark: at the next stage there is a change of arbiter. In the event of controversy between two different States of the Commonwealth of Nations, the supreme law establishes, not a judicial tribunal, but War, as arbiter. War is the institution established for the determination of justice between nations.

Provisions of the Municipal Law of Massachusetts, and of the National Constitution, are not vain words. To all familiar with our courts it is well known that suits between towns, and likewise between counties, are often entertained and satisfactorily adjudicated. The records of the Supreme Court of the United States show also that States of the Union habitually refer important controversies to this tribunal. Before this high court is now pending an action of the State of Missouri against the State of Iowa, founded on a question of boundary, where the former claims a section of territory—larger than many German principalities—extending along the whole northern border of Missouri, with several miles of breadth, and comprising more than two thousand square miles. Within a short period this same tribunal has decided a similar question between our own State of Massachusetts and our neighbor, Rhode Island,—the latter pertinaciously claiming a section of territory, about three miles broad, on a portion of our southern frontier.

Suppose that in these different cases between towns, counties, states, War had been established by the supreme law as arbiter; imagine the disastrous consequences; picture the imperfect justice which must have been the end and fruit of such a contest; and while rejoicing that in these cases we are happily relieved from an alternative so wretched and deplorable, reflect that on a larger theatre, where grander interests are staked, in the relations between nations, under the solemn sanction of the Law of Nations, War is established as Arbiter of Justice. Reflect also that a complex and subtile code, known as Laws of War, is established to regulate the resort to this arbiter.

Recognizing the irrational and unchristian character of War as established arbiter between towns, counties, and states, we learn to condemn it as established arbiter between nations. If wrong in one case, it must be wrong in the other. But there is another parallel supplied by history, from which we may form a yet clearer idea: I refer to the system of Private Wars, or, more properly, Petty Wars, which darkened even the Dark Ages. This must not be confounded with the Trial by Battle, although the two were alike in recognizing the sword as Arbiter of Justice. The right to wage war (le droit de guerroyer) was accorded by the early Municipal Law of European States, particularly of the Continent, to all independent chiefs, however petty, but not to vassals; precisely as the right to wage war is now accorded by International Law to all independent states and principalities, however petty, but not to subjects. It was mentioned often among the "liberties" to which independent chiefs were entitled; as it is still recognized by International Law among the "liberties" of independent nations. In proportion as any sovereignty was absorbed in some larger lordship, this offensive right or "liberty" gradually disappeared. In France it prevailed extensively, till at last King John, by an ordinance dated 1361, expressly forbade Petty Wars throughout his kingdom, saying, in excellent words, "We by these presents ordain that all challenges and wars, and all acts of violence against all persons, in all parts whatsoever of our kingdom, shall henceforth cease; and all assemblies, musters, and raids of men-at-arms or archers; and also all pillages, seizures of goods and persons illegally, vengeances and counter-vengeances, surprisals and ambuscades.... All which things we will to be kept and observed everywhere without infringement, on pain of incurring our indignation, and of being reputed and held disobedient and rebellious towards us and the crown, and at our mercy in body and goods."[292] It was reserved for that indefatigable king, Louis the Eleventh, while Dauphin, as late as 1451, to make another effort in the same direction, by expressly abrogating one of the "liberties" of DauphinÉ, being none other than the right of war, immemorially secured to the inhabitants of this province.[293] From these royal ordinances the Commonwealth of Nations might borrow appropriate words, in abrogating forever the Public Wars, or, more properly, the Grand Wars, with their vengeances and counter-vengeances, which are yet sanctioned by International Law among the "liberties" of Christian nations.

At a later day, in Germany, effective measures were taken against the same prevailing evil. Contests there were not confined to feudal lords. Associations of tradesmen, and even of domestics, sent defiance to each other, and even to whole cities, on pretences trivial as those sometimes the occasion of the Grand Wars between nations. There are still extant Declarations of War by a Lord of Frauenstein against the free city of Frankfort, because a young lady of the city refused to dance with the uncle of the belligerent,—by the baker and other domestics of the Margrave of Baden against Esslingen, Reutlingen, and other imperial cities,—by the baker of the Count Palatine Louis against the cities of Augsburg, Ulm, and Rottweil,—by the shoeblacks of the University of Leipsic against the provost and other members,—and, in 1477, by the cook of Eppenstein, with his scullions, dairy-maids, and dish-washers, against Otho, Count of Solms. Finally, in 1495, at the Diet of Worms, so memorable in German annals, the Emperor Maximilian sanctioned an ordinance which proclaimed a permanent Peace throughout Germany, abolished the right or "liberty" of Private War, and instituted a Supreme Tribunal, under the ancient name of Imperial Chamber, to which recourse might be had, even by nobles, princes, and states, for the determination of disputes without appeal to the sword.[294]

Trial by Battle, or "judicial combat," furnishes the most vivid picture of the Arbitrament of War, beyond even what is found in the system of Petty Wars. It was at one period, particularly in France, the universal umpire between private individuals. All causes, criminal and civil, with all the questions incident thereto, were referred to this senseless trial. Not bodily infirmity or old age could exempt a litigant from the hazard of the Battle, even to determine differences of the most trivial import. At last substitutes were allowed, and, as in War, bravoes or champions were hired for wages to enter the lists. The proceedings were conducted gravely according to prescribed forms, which were digested into a system of peculiar subtilty and minuteness,—as War in our day is according to an established code, the Laws of War. Thus do violence, lawlessness, and absurdity shelter themselves beneath the Rule of Law! Religion also lent her sanctions. With presence and prayer the priest cheered the insensate combatant, and appealed for aid to Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace.

The Church, to its honor, early perceived the wickedness of this system. By voices of pious bishops, by ordinances of solemn councils, by anathemas of popes, it condemned whosoever should slay another in a battle so impious and inimical to Christian peace, as "a most wicked homicide and bloody robber"[295]; while it treated the unhappy victim as a volunteer, guilty of his own death, and handed his remains to unhonored burial without psalm or prayer. With sacerdotal supplication it vainly sought the withdrawal of all countenance from this great evil, and the support of the civil power in ecclesiastical censures. To these just efforts let praise and gratitude be offered! But, alas! authentic incidents, and the forms still on record in ancient missals, attest the unhappy sanction which Trial by Battle succeeded in obtaining even from the Church,—as in our day the English Liturgy, and the conduct of the Christian clergy in all countries, attest the unhappy sanction which the Institution of War yet enjoys. Admonitions of the Church and labors of good men slowly prevailed. Proofs by witnesses and by titles were gradually adopted, though opposed by the selfishness of camp-followers, subaltern officers, and even of lords, greedy for the fees or wages of combat. In England Trial by Battle was attacked by Henry the Second, striving to substitute Trial by Jury. In France it was expressly forbidden by that illustrious monarch, St. Louis, in an immortal ordinance. At last, this system, so wasteful of life, so barbarous in character, so vain and inefficient as Arbiter of Justice, yielded to judicial tribunals.

The Trial by Battle is not Roman in origin. It may be traced to the forests of Germany, where the rule prevailed of referring to the sword what at Rome was referred to the prÆtor; so that a judicial tribunal, when urged upon these barbarians, was regarded as an innovation.[296] The very words of surprise at the German custom are yet applicable to the Arbitrament of War.

The absurdity of Trial by Battle may be learned from the instances where it was invoked. Though originally permitted to determine questions of personal character, it was extended so as to embrace criminal cases, and even questions of property. In 961 the title to a church was submitted to this ordeal.[297] Some time later a grave point of law was submitted. The question was, "Whether the sons of a son ought to be reckoned among the children of the family, and succeed equally with their uncles, if their father happened to die while their grandfather was alive." The general opinion at first was for reference of the question to the adjudication of arbiters; but we are informed by a contemporary ecclesiastic, who reports the case, that the Emperor, Otho the First, "taking better counsel, and unwilling that nobles and elders of the people should be treated dishonorably, ordered the matter to be decided by champions with the sword." The champion of the grandchildren prevailed, and they were enabled to share with their uncles in the inheritance.[298] Human folly did not end here. A question of theology was surrendered to the same arbitrament, being nothing less than whether the Musarabic Liturgy, used in the churches of Spain, or the Liturgy approved at Rome, contained the form of worship most acceptable to the Deity. The Spaniards contended zealously for the liturgy of their ancestors. The Pope urged the liturgy having his own infallible sanction. The controversy was submitted to Trial by Battle. Two knights in complete armor entered the lists. The champion of the Musarabic Liturgy was victorious. But there was an appeal to the ordeal of fire. A copy of each liturgy was cast into the flames. The Musarabic Liturgy remained unhurt, while the other vanished into ashes. And yet this judgment, first by battle and then by fire, was eluded or overthrown, showing how, as with War, the final conclusion is uncertain, and testifying against any appeal, except to human reason.[299]

An early king of the Lombards, in a formal decree, condemned the Trial by Battle as "impious"[300]; Montesquieu, at a later time, branded it as "monstrous"[301]; and Sir William Blackstone characterized it as "clearly an unchristian, as well as most uncertain, method of trial."[302] In the light of our day all unite in this condemnation. No man hesitates. No man undertakes its apology; nor does any man count as "glory" the feats of arms which it prompted and displayed. But the laws of morals are general, and not special. They apply to communities and to nations, as well as to individuals; nor is it possible, by any cunning of logic, or any device of human wit, to distinguish between that domestic institution, the Trial by Battle, established by Municipal Law as arbiter between individuals, and that international institution, the grander Trial by Battle, established by the Christian Commonwealth as arbiter between nations. If the judicial combat was impious, monstrous, and unchristian, then is War impious, monstrous, and unchristian.

It has been pointedly said in England, that the whole object of king, lords, and commons, and of the complex British Constitution, is "to get twelve men into a jury-box"; and Mr. Hume repeats the idea, when he declares that the administration of justice is the grand aim of government. If this be true of individual nations in municipal affairs, it is equally true of the Commonwealth of Nations. The whole complex system of the Law of Nations, overarching all the Christian nations, has but one distinct object,—the administration of justice between nations. Would that with tongue or pen I could adequately expose the enormity of this system, involving, as it does, the precepts of religion, the dictates of common sense, the suggestions of economy, and the most precious sympathies of humanity! Would that now I could impart to all who hear me something of my own conviction!

I need not dwell on the waste and cruelty thus authorized. Travelling the page of history, these stare us wildly in the face at every turn. We see the desolation and death keeping step with the bloody track; we look upon sacked towns, ravaged territories, violated homes; we behold all the sweet charities of life changed to wormwood and gall. The soul is penetrated by the sharp moan of mothers, sisters, and daughters, of fathers, brothers, and sons, who, in the bitterness of bereavement, refuse to be comforted. The eye rests at last upon one of those fair fields, where Nature, in her abundance, spreads her cloth of gold, spacious and apt for the entertainment of mighty multitudes,—or, perhaps, from curious subtilty of position, like the carpet in Arabian tale, contracting for the accommodation of a few only, or dilating for an innumerable host. Here, under a bright sun, such as shone at Austerlitz or Buena Vista, amidst the peaceful harmonies of Nature, on the Sabbath of Peace, are bands of brothers, children of a common Father, heirs to a common happiness, struggling together in deadly fight,—with madness of fallen spirits, murderously seeking the lives of brothers who never injured them or their kindred. The havoc rages; the ground is soaked with commingling blood; the air is rent by commingling cries; horse and rider are stretched together on the earth. More revolting than mangled victims, gashed limbs, lifeless trunks, spattering brains, are the lawless passions which sweep, tempest-like, through the fiendish tumult.

Horror-struck, we ask, wherefore this hateful contest? The melancholy, but truthful, answer comes, that this is the established method of determining justice between nations!

The scene changes. Far away on some distant pathway of the ocean, two ships approach each other, with white canvas broadly spread to receive the flying gale. They are proudly built. All of human art has been lavished in their graceful proportions and compacted sides, while in dimensions they look like floating happy islands of the sea. A numerous crew, with costly appliances of comfort, hives in their secure shelter. Surely these two travellers must meet in joy and friendship; the flag at mast-head will give the signal of fellowship; the delighted sailors will cluster in rigging and on yard-arms to look each other in the face, while exhilarating voices mingle in accents of gladness uncontrollable. Alas! alas! it is not so. Not as brothers, not as friends, not as wayfarers of the common ocean, do they come together, but as enemies. The closing vessels now bristle fiercely with death-dealing implements. On their spacious decks, aloft on all their masts, flashes the deadly musketry. From their sides spout cataracts of flame, amidst the pealing thunders of a fatal artillery. They who had escaped "the dreadful touch of merchant-marring rocks," who on their long and solitary way had sped unharmed by wind or wave, whom the hurricane had spared, in whose favor storms and seas had intermitted their immitigable war, now at last fall by the hand of each other. From both ships the same spectacle of horror greets us. On decks reddened with blood, the murders of the Sicilian Vespers and of St. Bartholomew, with the fires of Smithfield, break forth anew, and concentrate their rage. Each is a swimming Golgotha. At length these vessels—such pageants of the sea, such marvels of art, once so stately, but now rudely shattered by cannon-ball, with shivered masts and ragged sails—exist only as unmanageable wrecks, weltering on the uncertain wave, whose transient lull of peace is their sole safety. In amazement at this strange, unnatural contest, away from country and home, where there is no country or home to defend, we ask again, Wherefore this dismal scene? Again the melancholy, but truthful, answer promptly comes, that this is the established method of determining justice between nations.

Yes! the barbarous, brutal relations which once prevailed between individuals, which prevailed still longer between communities composing nations, are not yet banished from the great Christian Commonwealth. Religion, reason, humanity, first penetrate the individual, next larger bodies, and, widening in influence, slowly leaven nations. Thus, while condemning the bloody contests of individuals, also of towns, counties, principalities, provinces, and denying to all these the right of waging war, or of appeal to Trial by Battle, we continue to uphold an atrocious System of folly and crime, which is to nations what the System of Petty Wars was to towns, counties, principalities, provinces, also what the Duel was to individuals: for War is the Duel of Nations.[303] As from Pluto's throne flowed those terrible rivers, Styx, Acheron, Cocytus, and Phlegethon, with lamenting waters and currents of flame, so from this established System flow the direful tides of War. "Give them Hell," was the language written on a slate by an American officer, speechless from approaching death. "Ours is a damnable profession," was the confession of a veteran British general. "War is the trade of barbarians," exclaimed Napoleon, in a moment of truthful remorse, prompted by his bloodiest field. Alas! these words are not too strong. The business of War cannot be other than the trade of barbarians, cannot be other than a damnable profession; and War itself is certainly Hell on earth. But forget not, bear always in mind, and let the idea sink deep into your souls, animating you to constant endeavor, that this trade of barbarians, this damnable profession, is part of the War System, sanctioned by International Law,—and that War itself is Hell, recognized, legalized, established, organized, by the Commonwealth of Nations, for the determination of international questions!

"Put together," says Voltaire, "all the vices of all ages and places, and they will not come up to the mischiefs of one campaign."[304] This strong speech is supported by the story of ancient mythology, that Juno confided the infant Mars to Priapus. Another of nearer truth might be made. Put together all the ills and calamities from the visitations of God, whether in convulsions of Nature, or in pestilence and famine, and they will not equal the ills and calamities inflicted by man upon his brother-man, through the visitation of War,—while, alas! the sufferings of War are too often without the alleviation of those gentle virtues which ever attend the involuntary misfortunes of the race. Where the horse of Attila had been a blade of grass would not grow; but in the footprints of pestilence, famine, and earthquake the kindly charities spring into life.

The last hundred years have witnessed three peculiar visitations of God: first, the earthquake at Lisbon; next, the Asiatic cholera, as it moved slow and ghastly, with scythe of death, from the Delta of the Ganges over Bengal, Persia, Arabia, Syria, Russia, till Europe and America shuddered before the spectral reaper; and, lastly, the recent famine in Ireland, consuming with remorseless rage the population of that ill-starred land. It is impossible to estimate precisely the deadly work of cholera or famine, nor can we picture the miseries which they entailed; but the single brief event of the earthquake may be portrayed in authentic colors.

Lisbon, whose ancient origin is referred by fable to the wanderings of Ulysses, was one of the fairest cities of Europe. From the summit of seven hills it looked down upon the sea, and the bay bordered with cheerful villages,—upon the broad Tagus, expanding into a harbor ample for all the navies of Europe,—and upon a country of rare beauty, smiling with the olive and the orange, amidst grateful shadows of the cypress and the elm. A climate offering flowers in winter enhanced the peculiar advantages of position; and a numerous population thronged its narrow and irregular streets. Its forty churches, its palaces, its public edifices, its warehouses, its convents, its fortresses, its citadel, had become a boast. Not by War, not by the hand of man, were these solid structures levelled, and all these delights changed to desolation.

Lisbon, on the morning of November 1, 1755, was taken and sacked by an earthquake. The spacious warehouses were destroyed; the lordly palaces, the massive convents, the impregnable fortresses, with the lofty citadel, were toppled to the ground; and as the affrighted people sought shelter in the churches, they were crushed beneath the falling masses. Twenty thousand persons perished. Fire and robbery mingled with earthquake, and the beautiful city seemed to be obliterated. The nations of Europe were touched by this terrible catastrophe, and succor from all sides was soon offered. Within three months, English vessels appeared in the Tagus, loaded with generous contributions,—twenty thousand pounds in gold, a similar sum in silver, six thousand barrels of salted meat, four thousand barrels of butter, one thousand bags of biscuit, twelve hundred barrels of rice, ten thousand quintals of corn, besides hats, stockings, and shoes.

Such was the desolation, and such the charity, sown by the earthquake at Lisbon,—an event which, after the lapse of nearly a century, still stands without a parallel. But War shakes from its terrible folds all this desolation, without its attendant charity. Nay, more; the Commonwealth of Nations voluntarily agrees, each with the others, under the grave sanctions of International Law, to invoke this desolation, in the settlement of controversies among its members, while it expressly declares that all nations, not already parties to the controversy, must abstain from any succor to the unhappy victim. High tribunals are established expressly to uphold this arbitrament, and, with unrelenting severity, to enforce its ancillary injunctions, to the end that no aid, no charity, shall come to revive the sufferer or alleviate the calamity. Vera Cruz has been bombarded and wasted by American arms. Its citadel, churches, houses, were shattered, and peaceful families at the fireside torn in mutilated fragments by the murderous bursting shell; but the English, the universal charities, which helped to restore Lisbon, were not offered to the ruined Mexican city. They could not have been offered, without offending against the Laws of War!

It is because men see War, in the darkness of prejudice, only as an agency of attack or defence, or as a desperate sally of wickedness, that they fail to recognize it as a form of judgment, sanctioned and legalized by Public Authority. Regarding it in its true character, as an establishment of the Commonwealth of Nations, and one of the "liberties" accorded to independent nations, it is no longer the expression merely of lawless or hasty passion, no longer the necessary incident of imperfect human nature, no longer an unavoidable, uncontrollable volcanic eruption of rage, of vengeances and counter-vengeances, knowing no bound; but it becomes a gigantic and monstrous Institution for the adjudication of international rights,—as if an earthquake, or other visitation of God, with its uncounted woes, and without its attendant charities, were legally invoked as Arbiter of Justice.

Surely all must unite in condemning the Arbitrament of War. The simplest may read and comprehend its enormity. Can we yet hesitate? But if War be thus odious, if it be the Duel of Nations, if it be the old surviving Trial by Battle, then must its unquestionable barbarism affect all its incidents, all its machinery, all its enginery, together with all who sanction it, and all who have any part or lot in it,—in fine, the whole vast System. It is impossible, by any discrimination, to separate the component parts. We must regard it as a whole, in its entirety. But half our work is done, if we confine ourselves to a condemnation of the Institution merely. There are all its instruments and agencies, all its adjuncts and accessaries, all its furniture and equipage, all its armaments and operations, the whole apparatus of forts, navies, armies, military display, military chaplains, and military sermons,—all together constituting, in connection with the Institution of War, what may be called the War System. This System we would abolish, believing that religion, humanity, and policy require the establishment of some peaceful means for the administration of international justice, and also the general disarming of the Christian nations, to the end that the prodigious expenditures now absorbed by the War System may be applied to purposes of usefulness and beneficence, and that the business of the soldier may cease forever.

While earnestly professing this object, I desire again to exclude all question of self-defence, and to affirm the duty of upholding government, and maintaining the supremacy of the law, whether on land or sea. Admitting the necessity of Force for such purpose, Christianity revolts at Force as the substitute for a judicial tribunal. The example of the Great Teacher, the practice of the early disciples, the injunctions of self-denial, love, non-resistance to evil,—sometimes supposed to forbid Force in any exigency, even of self-defence,—all these must apply with unquestionable certainty to the established System of War. Here, at least, there can be no doubt. If the sword, in the hand of an assaulted individual, may become the instrument of sincere self-defence, if, under the sanction of a judicial tribunal, it may become the instrument of Justice also, surely it can never be the Arbiter of Justice. Here is a distinction vital to the cause of Peace, and never to be forgotten in presenting its claims. The cautious sword of the magistrate is unlike—oh, how unlike!—the ruthless sword of War.

The component parts of the War System may all be resolved into Preparations for War,—as court-house, jail, judges, sheriffs, constables, and posse comitatus are preparations for the administration of municipal justice. If justice were not to be administered, these would not exist. If War were not sanctioned by the Commonwealth of Nations, as the means of determining international controversies, then forts, navies, armies, military display, military chaplains, and military sermons would not exist. They would be useless and irrational, except for the rare occasions of a police,—as similar preparations would now be in Boston, for defence against our learned neighbor, Cambridge,—or in the County of Essex, for defence against its populous neighbor, the County of Middlesex,—or in the State of Massachusetts, for defence against its conterminous States, Rhode Island and New York. Only recently have men learned to question these preparations; for it is only recently that they have opened their eyes to the true character of the system, in which they are a part. It will yet be seen, that, sustaining these, we sustain the system. Still further, it will yet be seen, that, sustaining these, we wastefully offend against economy, and violate also the most precious sentiments of Human Brotherhood,—taking counsel of distrust, instead of love, and provoking to rivalry and enmity, instead of association and peace.

Time does not allow me to discuss the nature of these preparations; and I am the more willing to abridge what I am tempted to say, because, on another occasion, I have treated this part of the subject. But I cannot forbear to expose their inconsistency with the spirit of Christianity. From a general comprehension of the War System, we perceive the unchristian character of the preparations it encourages and requires, nay, which are the synonyms of the system, or at least its representatives. I might exhibit this character by an examination of the Laws of War, drawn from no celestial fount, but from a dark profound of Heathenism. This is unnecessary. The Constitution of our own country furnishes an illustration remarkable as a touch-stone of the whole system. No town, county, or state has the "liberty" to "declare War." The exercise of any proper self-defence, arising from actual necessity, requires no such "liberty." Congress is expressly authorized to "declare War,"—that is, to invoke the Arbitrament of Arms. And the Constitution proceeds to state, that all "giving aid and comfort" to the enemy shall be deemed traitors. Mark now what is said by a higher authority. "Love your enemies"; "If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink." Under the War System, obedience to these positive injunctions may expose a person to the penalty of the highest crime known to the law. Can this be a Christian system? But so long as War exists as an Institution this terrible inconsistency must appear.

The character of these preparations is distinctly, though unconsciously, attested by the names of vessels in the British Navy. From the latest official list I select an illustrative catalogue. Most are steamships of recent construction. Therefore they represent the spirit of the British Navy in our day,—nay, of those War Preparations in which they play so conspicuous a part. Here are the champions: Acheron, Adder, Alecto, Avenger, Basilisk, Bloodhound, Bulldog, Crocodile, Erebus, Firebrand, Fury, Gladiator, Goliah, Gorgon, Harpy, Hecate, Hound, Jackal, Mastiff, Pluto, Rattlesnake, Revenge, Salamander, Savage, Scorpion, Scourge, Serpent, Spider, Spiteful, Spitfire, Styx, Sulphur, Tartar, Tartarus, Teazer, Terrible, Terror, Vengeance, Viper, Vixen, Virago, Volcano, Vulture, Warspite, Wildfire, Wolf, Wolverine!

Such is the Christian array of Victoria, Defender of the Faith! It may remind us of the companions of King John, at another period of English history,—"Falkes the Merciless," "Mauleon the Bloody," "Walter Buck, the Assassin,"[305]—or of that Pagan swarm, the savage warriors of our own continent, with the names of Black-Hawk, Man-Killer, and Wild-Boar. Well might they seem to be

As a people is known by its laws, as a man is known by the company he keeps, as a tree is known by its fruits, so is the War System fully and unequivocally known by the Laws of War, by its diabolical ministers, typical of its preparations, and by all the accursed fruits of War. Controlled by such a code, employing such representatives, sustained by such agencies, animated by such Furies, and producing such fruits of tears and bitterness, it must be open to question. Tell me not that it is sanctioned by any religion except of Mars; do not enroll the Saviour and his disciples in its Satanic squadron; do not invoke the Gospel of Peace, in profane vindication of an Institution, which, by its own too palpable confession, exists in defiance of the most cherished Christian sentiments; do not dishonor the Divine Spirit of gentleness, forbearance, love, by supposing that it can ever enter into this System, except to change its whole nature and name, to cast out the devils which possess it, and fill its gigantic energies with the inspiration of Beneficence.

I need say little of military chaplains or military sermons. Like the steamships of the Navy, they come under the head of Preparations. They are part of the War System. They belong to the same school with priests of former times, who held the picture of the Prince of Peace before the barbarous champion of the Duel, saying, "Sir Knight, behold here the remembrance of our Lord and Redeemer, Jesus Christ, who willingly gave his most precious body to death in order to save us. Now ask of him mercy, and pray that on this day he may be willing to aid you, if you have right, for he is the sovereign judge."[306] They belong to the same school with English prelates, who, in the name of the Prince of Peace, consecrate banners to flaunt in remote war, saying, "Be thou in the midst of our hosts, as thou wast in the plains of India and in the field of Waterloo; and may these banners, which we bless and consecrate this day, lead them ever on to glorious victory." No judgment of such appeals can be more severe than that of Plato, who called men "most impious," who by prayer and sacrifice thought to propitiate the Gods towards slaughter and outrages upon justice,—thus, says the heathen philosopher, making those pure beings the accomplices of their crimes by sharing with them the spoil, as the wolves leave something to the dogs, that these may allow them to ravage the sheepfold.[307] Consenting to degrade the "blessedness" of the Gospel to the "impiety" of the War System, our clergy follow long established custom, without considering the true character of the system whose ministers they become. Their apology will be, that "they know not what they do."

Again I repeat, so long as the War System prevails under the sanction of International Law, these painful incongruities will be apparent. They belong to a system so essentially irrational, that all the admitted virtues of many of its agents cannot save it from judgment.

Here the question occurs, Is the Militia obnoxious to the same condemnation? So far as the militia constitutes part of the War System, it is impossible to distinguish it from the rest of the system. It is a portion of the extensive apparatus provided for the determination of international disputes. From this character it borrows the unwholesome attractions of War, while disporting itself, like the North American Indian, in finery and parade. Of the latter feature I shall speak only incidentally. If War be a Christian institution, those who act as its agents should shroud themselves in colors congenial with their dreadful trade. With sorrow and solemnity, not with gladness and pomp, they should proceed to their melancholy office. The Jew Shylock exposes the mockery of street-shows in Venice with a sarcasm not without echo here:—

Not as part of the War System, but only as an agent for preserving domestic peace, and for sustaining the law, is the militia entitled to support. And here arises the important practical question,—interesting to opponents of the War System as to lovers of order,—whether the same good object may not be accomplished by an agent less expensive, less cumbersome, and less tardy, forming no part of the War System, and therefore in no respect liable to the doubts encountered by the militia. Supporters of the militia do not disguise its growing unpopularity. The eminent Military Commissioners of Massachusetts, to whom in 1847 was referred the duty of arranging a system for its organization and discipline, confess that there is "either a defect of power in the State government to an efficient and salutary militia organization, or the absence of a public sentiment in its favor, and a consequent unwillingness to submit to the requirements of service which alone can sustain it"; and they add, that they "have been met, in the performance of their task, with information, from all quarters, of its general neglect, and of the certain and rapid declension of the militia in numbers and efficiency."[308] And the Adjutant-General of Massachusetts, after alluding to the different systems which have fallen into disuse, remarks, that "the fate of each system is indicative of public sentiment; and until public sentiment changes, no military system whatever can be sustained in the State."[309] Nor is this condition of public sentiment for the first time noticed. It was remarked by the Commissioners charged by the Legislature with this subject as long ago as 1839. In their Report they say, "It is enough to know that all attempts, hitherto, to uphold the system, in its original design of organization, discipline, and subordination, are at last brought to an unsuccessful issue."[310]

None familiar with public opinion in our country, and particularly in Massachusetts, will question the accuracy of these official statements. It is true that there is an indisposition to assume the burdens of the militia. Its offices and dignities have ceased to be an object of general regard. This, certainly, must be founded in the conviction that it is no longer necessary or useful; for it is not customary with the people of Massachusetts to decline occasions of service necessary or useful to the community. The interest in military celebrations has decayed. Nor should it be concealed that there are large numbers whose honest sentiments are not of mere indifference, who regard with aversion the fanfaronade of a militia muster, who not a little question the influence upon those taking part in it or even witnessing it, and look with regret upon the expenditure of money and time.

If such be the condition of the public mind, the Government must recognize it. The soul of all effective laws is an animating public sentiment. This gives vitality to what else would be a dead letter. In vain enact what is not inspired by this spirit. No skill in the device of the system, no penalties, no bounties even, can uphold it. Happily, we are not without remedy. If State Legislatures are disposed to provide a substitute for this questionable or offensive agency, as conservator of domestic quiet, it is entirely within their competency. Let the general voice demand the substitute.

Among powers reserved to States, under the National Constitution, is that of Internal Police. Within its territorial limits, a State has municipal power to be exercised according to its own will. In the exercise of this will, it may establish a system, congenial with the sentiment of the age, to supply the place of the militia, as guardian of municipal quiet and instrument of the law. This system may consist of unpaid volunteers, or special constables, like fire companies in the country, or of hired men, enrolled for this particular purpose, and always within call, like fire companies in Boston. They need not be clad in showy costume, or subjected to all the peculiarities of military drill. A system so simple, practical, efficient, unostentatious, and cheap, especially as compared with the militia, would be in harmony with existing sentiment, while it could not fail to remedy the evils sometimes feared from present neglect of the militia. Many attempts have been made to reform the militia. It remains, that a proper effort should be made to provide a substitute for it.

An eminent English jurist of the last century,—renowned as scholar also,—Sir William Jones,—in a learned and ingenious tract, entitled "An Inquiry into the Legal Mode of Suppressing Riots, with a Constitutional Plan of Future Defence," after developing the obligations of the citizen, under the Common Law, as part of the Power of the County, presents a system of organization independent of the military. It is not probable that this system would be acceptable in all its details to the people of our community, but there is one of his recommendations which seems to harmonize with existing sentiment. "Let companies," he says, "be taught, in the most private and orderly manner, for two or three hours early every morning, until they are competently skilled in the use of their arms; let them not unnecessarily march through streets or high-roads, nor make any the least military parade, but consider themselves entirely as part of the civil state."[311] Thus is the soldier kept out of sight, while the citizen becomes manifest; and this is the true idea of republican government. In the midst of arms the laws are silent. Not "arms," but "laws," should command our homage and quicken the patriotism of the land.

While divorcing the Police from the unchristian and barbarous War System, I confess the vital importance of maintaining law and order. Life and property should be guarded. Peace must be preserved in our streets. And it is the duty of Government to provide such means as are most expedient, if those established are in any respect inadequate, or uncongenial with the Spirit of the Age.

I must not close this exposition without an attempt to display the inordinate expenditure by which the War System is maintained. And here figures appear to lose their functions. They seem to pant, as they toil vainly to represent the enormous sums consumed in this unparalleled waste. Our own experience, measured by the concerns of common life, does not allow us adequately to conceive the sums. Like the periods of geological time, or the distances of the fixed stars, they baffle imagination. Look, for an instant, at the cost to us of this system. Without any allowance for the loss sustained by the withdrawal of active men from productive industry, we find, that, from the adoption of the National Constitution down to 1848, there has been paid directly from the National Treasury,—

This immense amount is not all. Regarding the militia as part of the War System, we must add a moderate estimate for its cost during this period, being, according to the calculations of an able and accurate economist, as much as $1,500,000,000.[313] The whole presents an inconceivable sum-total of more than two thousand millions of dollars already dedicated by our Government to the support of the War System,—nearly twelve times as much as was set apart, during the same period, to all other purposes whatsoever!

Look now at the Commonwealth of Europe. I do not intend to speak of War Debts, under whose accumulated weight these nations are now pressed to earth, being the terrible legacy of the Past. I refer directly to the existing War System, the establishment of the Present. According to recent calculations, its annual cost is not less than a thousand millions of dollars. Endeavor, for a moment, by comparison with other interests, to grapple with this sum.

It is larger than the entire profit of all the commerce and manufactures of the world.

It is larger than all the expenditure for agricultural labor, producing the food of man, upon the whole face of the globe.

It is larger, by a hundred millions, than the value of all the exports sent forth by all the nations of the earth.

It is larger, by more than five hundred millions, than the value of all the shipping belonging to the civilized world.

It is larger, by nine hundred and ninety-seven millions, than the annual combined charities of Europe and America for preaching the Gospel to the Heathen.

Yes! the Commonwealth of Christian Nations, including our own country, appropriates, without hesitation, as a matter of course, upwards of a thousand millions of dollars annually to the maintenance of the War System, and vaunts its three millions of dollars, laboriously collected, for diffusing the light of the Gospel in foreign lands! With untold prodigality of cost, it perpetuates the worst Heathenism of War, while, by charities insignificant in comparison, it doles to the Heathen a message of Peace. At home it breeds and fattens a cloud of eagles and vultures, trained to swoop upon the land; to all the Gentiles across the sea it dismisses a solitary dove.

Still further: every ship-of-war that floats costs more than a well-endowed college.

Every sloop-of-war that floats costs more than the largest public library in our country.

It is sometimes said, by persons yet in leading-strings of inherited prejudice, and with little appreciation of the true safety afforded by the principles of Peace, that all these comprehensive preparations are needed for protection against enemies from abroad. Wishing to present the cause without any superfluous question on what are called, apologetically, "defensive wars," let me say, in reply,—and here all can unite,—that, if these preparations are needed at any time, according to the aggressive martial interpretation of self-defence in its exigencies, there is much reason to believe it is because the unchristian spirit in which they have their birth, lowering and scowling in the very names of the ships, provokes the danger,—as the presence of a bravo might challenge the attack he was hired to resist.

Frederick of Prussia, sometimes called the Great, in a singular spirit of mingled openness and effrontery, deliberately left on record, most instructively prominent among the real reasons for his war upon Maria Theresa, that he had troops always ready to act. Thus did these Preparations unhappily become, as they too often show themselves, incentives to War. Lord Brougham justly dwells on this confession as a lesson of history. Human nature, as manifest in the conduct of individuals or communities, has its lesson also. The fatal War Spirit is born of these preparations, out of which it springs full-armed. Here also is its great aliment; here are the seeds of the very evil it is sometimes vainly supposed to avert. Let it never be forgotten, let it be treasured as a solemn warning, that, by the confession of Frederick himself, it was the possession of troops always ready to act that helped to inspire that succession of bloody wars, which, first pouncing upon Silesia, mingled at last with the strifes of England and France, even in distant colonies across the Atlantic, ranging the savages of the forest under hostile European banners.[314]

But I deny that these preparations are needed for just self-defence. It is difficult, if not impossible, to suppose any such occasion in the Fraternity of Christian Nations, if War ceases to be an established Arbitrament, or if any state is so truly great as to decline its umpirage. There is no such occasion among the towns, counties, or states of our extended country; nor is there any such occasion among the counties of Great Britain, or among the provinces of France; but the same good-will, the same fellowship, and the same ties of commerce, which unite towns, counties, states, and provinces, are fast drawing the whole Commonwealth of Nations into similar communion. France and England, so long regarded as natural enemies, are now better known to each other than only a short time ago were different provinces of the former kingdom. And there is now a closer intimacy in business and social intercourse between Great Britain and our own country than there was at the beginning of the century between Massachusetts and Virginia.

Admitting that an enemy might approach our shores for piracy or plunder or conquest, who can doubt that the surest protection would be found, not in the waste of long-accumulating preparation, not in idle fortresses along the coast, built at a cost far surpassing all our lighthouses and all our colleges, but in the intelligence, union, and pacific repose of good men, with the unbounded resources derived from uninterrupted devotion to productive industry? I think it may be assumed as beyond question, according to the testimony of political economy, that the people who spend most sparingly in Preparations for War, all other things being equal, must possess the most enduring means of actual self-defence at home, on their own soil, before their own hearths, if any such melancholy alternative should occur. Consider the prodigious sums, exceeding in all two thousand millions of dollars, squandered by the United States, since the adoption of the National Constitution, for the sake of the War System. Had such means been devoted to railroads and canals, schools and colleges, the country would possess, at the present moment, an accumulated material power grander far than any it now boasts. There is another power, of more unfailing temper, which would not be wanting. Overflowing with intelligence, with charity, with civilization, with all that constitutes a generous state, ours would be peaceful triumphs, transcending all yet achieved, and surrounding the land with an invincible self-defensive might, while the unfading brightness of a new era made the glory of War impossible. Well does the poet say with persuasive truth,—

Such men will possess a Christian greatness, rendering them unable to do an injury; while their character, instinct with all the guardian virtues, must render their neighbors unable to do an injury to them.

The injunction, "In time of Peace prepare for War," is of Heathen origin.[316] As a rule of international conduct, it is very questionable in a Christian age, being vindicated on two grounds only: first, by assuming that the Arbitrament of War is the proper tribunal for international controversies, and therefore the War System is to be maintained and strengthened, as the essential means of international justice; or, secondly, by assuming the rejected dogma of an Atheist philosopher, Hobbes, that War is the natural state of man. Whatever may be the infirmities of our passions, it is plain that the natural state of man, assuring the highest happiness, and to which he tends by an irresistible heavenly attraction, is Peace. This is true of communities and nations, as of individuals. The proper rule is, In time of Peace cultivate the arts of Peace. So doing, you will render the country truly strong and truly great; not by arousing the passions of War, not by nursing men to the business of blood, not by converting the land into a flaming arsenal, a magazine of gunpowder, or an "infernal machine," just ready to explode, but by dedicating its whole energies to productive and beneficent works.

The incongruity of this system may be illustrated by an example. Look into the life of that illustrious philosopher, John Locke, and you will find, that, in the journal of his tour through France, describing the arches of the amphitheatre at Nismes, he says, "In all those arches, to support the walls over the passage where you go round, there is a stone laid, about twenty inches or two feet square, and about six times the length of my sword, which was near about a philosophical yard long."[317] Who is not struck with the unseemly incongruity of the exhibition, as he sees the author of the "Essay concerning Human Understanding" travelling with a sword by his side? But here the philosopher only followed the barbarous custom of his time. Individuals then lived in the same relations towards each other which now characterize nations. The War System had not yet entirely retreated from Municipal Law and Custom, to find its last citadel and temple in the Law and Custom of Nations. Do not forget, that, at the present moment, our own country, the great author, among the nations, of a new Essay concerning Human Understanding, not only travels with a sword by the side, like John Locke, but lives encased in complete armor, burdensome to limbs and costly to treasury.

Condemning the War System as barbarous and most wasteful, the token and relic of a society alien to Christian civilization, we except the Navy, so far as necessary in arrest of pirates, of traffickers in human flesh, and generally in preserving the police of the sea. But it is difficult for the unprejudiced mind to regard the array of fortifications and of standing armies otherwise than obnoxious to the condemnation aroused by the War System. Fortifications are instruments, and standing armies are hired champions, in the great Duel of Nations.

Here I quit this part of the subject. Sufficient has been said to expose the War System of the Commonwealth of Nations. It stands before us, a colossal image of International Justice, with the sword, but without the scales,—like a hideous Mexican idol, besmeared with human blood, and surrounded by the sickening stench of human sacrifice. But this image, which seems to span the continents, while it rears aloft its flashing form of brass and gold, hiding far in the clouds "the round and top of sovereignty," can be laid low; for its feet are clay.

II.

I come now to the means by which the War System can be overthrown. Here I shall unfold the tendencies and examples of nations, and the sacred efforts of individuals, constituting the Peace Movement, now ready to triumph,—with practical suggestions on our duties to this cause, and a concluding glance at the barbarism of Military Glory. In this review I cannot avoid details incident to a fruitfulness of topics; but I shall try to introduce nothing not bearing directly on the subject.

Civilization now writhes in travail and torment, and asks for liberation from oppressive sway. Like the slave under a weary weight of chains, it raises its exhausted arms, and pleads for the angel Deliverer. And, lo! the beneficent angel comes,—not like the Grecian God of Day, with vengeful arrows to slay the destructive Python,—not like the Archangel Michael, with potent spear to transfix Satan,—but with words of gentleness and cheer, saying to all nations, and to all children of men, "Ye are all brothers, of one flesh, one fold, one shepherd, children of one Father, heirs to one happiness. By your own energies, through united fraternal endeavor, will the tyranny of War be overthrown, and its Juggernaut in turn be crushed to earth."

In this spirit, and with this encouragement, we must labor for that grand and final object, watchword of all ages, the Unity of the Human Family. Not in benevolence, but in selfishness, has Unity been sought in times past,—not to promote the happiness of all, but to establish the dominion of one. It was the mad lust of power which carried Alexander from conquest to conquest, till he boasted that the whole world was one empire, with the Macedonian phalanx as citadel. The same passion animated Rome, till, at last, while Christ lay in a manger, this single city swayed a broader empire than that of Alexander. The Gospel, in its simple narrative, says, "And it came to pass in those days that there went out a decree from CÆsar Augustus that all the world should be taxed." History recalls the exile of Ovid, who, falling under the displeasure of the same emperor, was condemned to close his life in melancholy longings for Rome, far away in Pontus, on the Euxine Sea. With singular significance, these two contemporaneous incidents reveal the universality of Roman dominion, stretching from Britain to Parthia. The mighty empire crumbled, to be reconstructed for a brief moment, in part by Charlemagne, in part by Tamerlane. In our own age, Napoleon made a last effort for Unity founded on Force. And now, from his utterances at St. Helena, the expressed wisdom of his unparalleled experience, comes the remarkable confession, worthy of constant memory: "The more I study the world, the more am I convinced of the inability of brute force to create anything durable." From the sepulchre of Napoleon, now sleeping on the banks of the Seine, surrounded by the trophies of battle, nay, more, from the sepulchres of all these departed empires, may be heard the words, "They that take the sword shall perish by the sword."

Unity is the longing and tendency of Humanity: not the enforced Unity of military power; not the Unity of might triumphant over right; not the Unity of Inequality; not the Unity which occupied the soul of Dante, when, in his treatise De Monarchia, the earliest political work of modern times, he strove to show that all the world belonged to a single ruler, the successor of the Roman Emperor: not these; but the voluntary Unity of nations in fraternal labor; the Unity promised, when it was said, "There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female, for ye are all one in Christ Jesus"; the Unity which has filled the delighted vision of good men, prophets, sages, and poets, in times past; the Unity which, in our own age, prompted BÉranger, the incomparable lyric of France, in an immortal ode, to salute the Holy Alliance of the Peoples,[318] summoning them in all lands, and by whatever names they may be called, French, English, Belgian, German, Russian, to give each other the hand, that the useless thunderbolts of War may all be quenched, and Peace sow the earth with gold, with flowers, and with corn; the Unity which prompted an early American diplomatist and poet to anticipate the time when nations shall meet in Congress,—

the Unity which inspired our contemporary British poet of exquisite genius, Alfred Tennyson, to hail the certain day,—

Such is Unity in the bond of Peace. The common good and mutual consent are its enduring base, Justice and Love its animating soul. These alone can give permanence to combinations of men, whether in states or confederacies. Here is the vital elixir of nations, the true philosopher's stone of divine efficacy to enrich the civilization of mankind. So far as these are neglected or forgotten, will the people, though under one apparent head, fail to be really united. So far as these are regarded, will the people, within the sphere of their influence, constitute one body, and be inspired by one spirit. And just in proportion as these find recognition from individuals and from nations will War be impossible.

Not in vision, nor in promise only, is this Unity discerned. Voluntary associations, confederacies, leagues, coalitions, and congresses of nations, though fugitive and limited in influence, all attest the unsatisfied desires of men solicitous for union, while they foreshadow the means by which it may be permanently accomplished. Of these I will enumerate a few. 1. The Amphictyonic Council, embracing at first twelve, and finally thirty-one communities, was established about the year 1100 before Christ. Each sent two deputies, and had two votes in the Council, which was empowered to restrain the violence of hostility among the associates. 2. Next comes the AchÆan League, founded at a very early period, and renewed in the year 281 before Christ. Each member was independent, and yet all together constituted one inseparable body. So great was the fame of their justice and probity, that the Greek cities of Italy were glad to invite their peaceful arbitration. 3. Passing over other confederacies of Antiquity, I mention next the Hanseatic League, begun in the twelfth century, completed in the middle of the thirteenth, and comprising at one time no less than eighty-five cities. A system of International Law was adopted in their general assemblies, and also courts of arbitration, to determine controversies among the cities. The decrees of these courts were enforced by placing the condemned city under the ban, a sentence equivalent to excommunication. 4. At a later period, other cities and nobles of Germany entered into alliance and association for mutual protection, under various names, as the League of the Rhine, and the League of Suabia. 5. To these I add the combination of Armed Neutrality in 1780, uniting, in declared support of certain principles, a large cluster of nations,—Russia, France, Spain, Holland, Sweden, Denmark, Prussia, and the United States. 6. And still further, I refer to Congresses at Westphalia, Utrecht, Aix-la-Chapelle, and Vienna, after the wasteful struggles of War, to arrange terms of Peace and to arbitrate between nations.

These examples, belonging to the Past, reveal tendencies and capacities. Other instances, having the effect of living authority, show practically how the War System may be set aside. There is, first, the Swiss Republic, or Helvetic Union, which, beginning so long ago as 1308, has preserved Peace among its members during the greater part of five centuries. Speaking of this Union, Vattel said, in the middle of the last century, "The Swiss have had the precaution, in all their alliances among themselves, and even in those they have contracted with the neighboring powers, to agree beforehand on the manner in which their disputes were to be submitted to arbitrators, in case they could not adjust them in an amicable manner." And this publicist proceeds to testify that "this wise precaution has not a little contributed to maintain the Helvetic Republic in that flourishing condition which secures its liberty, and renders it respectable throughout Europe."[321] Since these words were written, there have been many changes in the Swiss Constitution; but its present Federal System, established on the downfall of Napoleon, confirmed in 1830, and now embracing twenty-five different States, provides that differences among the States shall be referred to "special arbitration." This is an instructive example. But, secondly, our own happy country furnishes one yet more so. The United States of America are a National Union of thirty different States,—each having peculiar interests,—in pursuance of a Constitution, established in 1788, which not only provides a high tribunal for the adjudication of controversies between the States, but expressly disarms the individual States, declaring that "no State shall, without the consent of Congress, keep troops or ships of war in time of peace, or engage in war, unless actually invaded, or in such imminent danger as will not admit of delay." A third example, not unlike that of our own country, is the Confederation of Germany, composed of thirty-eight sovereignties, who, by reciprocal stipulation in their Act of Union, on the 8th of June, 1815, deprived each sovereignty of the right of war with its confederates. The words of this stipulation, which, like those of the Constitution of the United States, might furnish a model to the Commonwealth of Nations, are as follows: "The Confederate States likewise engage under no pretext to make war upon one another, nor to pursue their differences by force of arms, but to submit them to the Diet. The latter shall endeavor to mediate between the parties by means of a commission. Should this not prove successful, and a judicial decision become necessary, provision shall be made therefor through a well-organized Court of Arbitration, to which the litigants shall submit themselves without appeal."[322]

Such are authentic, well-defined examples. This is not all. It is in the order of Providence, that individuals, families, tribes, and nations should tend, by means of association, to a final Unity. A law of mutual attraction, or affinity, first exerting its influence upon smaller bodies, draws them by degrees into well-established fellowship, and then, continuing its power, fuses the larger bodies into nations; and nations themselves, stirred by this same sleepless energy, are now moving towards that grand system of combined order which will complete the general harmony:—

History bears ample testimony to the potency of this attraction. Modern Europe, in its early periods, was filled with petty lordships, or communities constituting so many distinct units, acknowledging only a vague nationality, and maintaining, as we have already seen, the "liberty" to fight with each other. The great nations of our day have grown and matured into their present form by the gradual absorption of these political bodies.

Territories, once possessing an equivocal and turbulent independence, feel new power and happiness in peaceful association. Spain, composed of races dissimilar in origin, religion, and government, slowly ascended by progressive combinations among principalities and provinces, till at last, in the fifteenth century, by the crowning union of Castile and Aragon, the whole country, with its various sovereignties, was united under one common rule. Germany once consisted of more than three hundred different principalities, each with the right of war. These slowly coalesced, forming larger principalities; till at last the whole complex aggregation of states, embracing abbeys, bishoprics, archbishoprics, bailiwicks, counties, duchies, electorates, margraviates, and free imperial cities, was gradually resolved into the present Confederation, where each state expressly renounces the right of war with its associates. France has passed through similar changes. By a power of assimilation, in no nation so strongly marked, she has absorbed the various races and sovereignties once filling her territory with violence and conflict, and has converted them all to herself. The Roman or Iberian of Provence, the indomitable Celtic race, the German of Alsace, have all become Frenchmen,—while the various provinces, once inspired by such hostile passions, Brittany and Normandy, Franche-ComtÉ and Burgundy, Gascony and Languedoc, Provence and DauphinÉ, are now blended in one powerful, united nation. Great Britain, too, shows the influence of the same law. The many hostile principalities of England were first merged in the Heptarchy; and these seven kingdoms became one under the Saxon Egbert. Wales, forcibly attached to England under Edward the First, at last assimilated with her conqueror; Ireland, after a protracted resistance, was absorbed under Edward the Third, and at a later day, after a series of bitter struggles, was united, I do not say how successfully, under the Imperial Parliament; Scotland was connected with England by the accession of James the First to the throne of the Tudors, and these two countries, which had so often encountered in battle, were joined together under Queen Anne, by an act of peaceful legislation.

Thus has the tendency to Unity predominated over independent sovereignties and states, slowly conducting the constant process of crystallization. This cannot be arrested. The next stage must be the peaceful association of the Christian nations. In this anticipation we but follow analogies of the material creation, as seen in the light of chemical or geological science. Everywhere Nature is busy with combinations, exerting an occult incalculable power, drawing elements into new relations of harmony, uniting molecule with molecule, atom with atom, and, by progressive change, in the lapse of time, producing new structural arrangements. Look still closer, and the analogy continues. At first we detect the operation of cohesion, rudely acting upon particles near together,—then subtler influences, slowly imparting regularity of form,—while heat, electricity, and potent chemical affinities conspire in the work. As yet there is only an incomplete body. Light now exerts its mysterious powers, and all assumes an organized form. So it is with mankind. First appears the rude cohesion of early ages, acting only upon individuals near together. Slowly the work proceeds. But time and space, the great obstructions, if not annihilated, are now subdued, giving free scope to the powerful affinities of civilization. At last, light, thrice holy light, in whose glad beams are knowledge, justice, and beneficence, with empyrean sway will combine those separate and distracted elements into one organized system.

Thus much for examples and tendencies. In harmony with these are efforts of individuals, extending through ages, and strengthening with time, till now at last they swell into a voice that must be heard. A rapid glance will show the growth of the cause we have met to welcome. Far off in the writings of the early Fathers we learn the duty and importance of Universal Peace. Here I might accumulate texts, each an authority, while you listened to Justin Martyr, IrenÆus, Tertullian, Origen, Augustine, Aquinas. How beautiful it appears in the teachings of St. Augustine! How comprehensive the rules of Aquinas, who spoke with the authority of Philosophy and the Church, when he said, in phrase worthy of constant repetition, that the perfection of joy is Peace![324] But the rude hoof of War trampled down these sparks of generous truth, destined to flame forth at a later day. In the fifteenth century, The good Man of Peace was described in that work of unexampled circulation, translated into all modern tongues, and republished more than a thousand times, "The Imitation of Christ," by Thomas-À-Kempis.[325] A little later the cause found important support from the pen of a great scholar, the gentle and learned Erasmus. At last it obtained a specious advocacy from the throne. Henry the Fourth, of France, with the coÖperation of his eminent minister, Sully, conceived the beautiful scheme of blending the Christian nations in one confederacy, with a high tribunal for the decision of controversies between them, and had drawn into his plan Queen Elizabeth, of England. All was arrested by the dagger of Ravaillac. This gay and gallant monarch was little penetrated by the divine sentiment of Peace; for at his death he was gathering materials for fresh War; and it is too evident that the scheme of a European Congress was prompted less by comprehensive humanity than by a selfish ambition to humble the House of Austria. Even with this drawback it did great good, by holding aloft before Christendom the exalted idea of a tribunal for the Commonwealth of Nations.

Universal Peace was not to receive thus early the countenance of Government. Meanwhile private efforts began to multiply. Grotius, in his wonderful work on "The Rights of War and Peace," while lavishing learning and genius on the Arbitrament of War, bears testimony in favor of a more rational tribunal. His virtuous nature, wishing to save mankind from the scourge of War, foreshadowed an Amphictyonic Council. "It would be useful, and in some sort necessary," he says,—in language which, if carried out practically, would sweep away the War System and all the Laws of War,—"to have Congresses of the Christian Powers, where differences might be determined by the judgment of those not interested in them, and means found to constrain parties into acceptance of peace on just conditions."[326] To the discredit of his age, these moderate words, so much in harmony with his other effort for the union of Christian sects, were derided, and the eminent expounder was denounced as rash, visionary, and impracticable. The sentiment in which they had their origin found other forms of utterance. Before the close of the seventeenth century, Nicole, the friend of Pascal, belonging to the fellowship of Port-Royal, and one of the highest names in the Church of France, gave to the world a brief "Treatise on the Means of preserving Peace among Men,"[327] which Voltaire, with exaggerated praise, terms "a masterpiece, to which nothing equal has been left to us by Antiquity." Next appeared a little book, which is now a bibliographical curiosity, entitled "The New Cineas,"[328]—after the pacific adviser of Pyrrhus, the warrior king of Epirus,—where the humane author counsels sovereigns to govern in Peace, submitting their differences to an established tribunal. In Germany, at the close of the seventeenth century, as we learn from Leibnitz, who mentions the preceding authority also, a retired general, who had commanded armies, the Land-grave Ernest of Hesse Rhinfels, in a work entitled "The Discreet Catholic," suggested a plan for Perpetual Peace by means of a tribunal established by associate sovereigns.[329] England testified also by William Penn, who adopted and enforced what he called the "great design" of Henry the Fourth. In a work entitled "An Essay towards the Present and Future Peace of Europe," the enlightened Quaker proposed a Diet, or Sovereign Assembly, into which the princes of Europe should enter, as men enter into society, for the love of peace and order,—that its object should be justice, and that all differences not terminated by embassies should be brought before this tribunal, whose judgment should be so far binding, that, in the event of contumacy, it should be enforced by the united powers.[330] Thus, by writings, as also by illustrious example in Pennsylvania, did Penn show himself the friend of Peace.

These were soon followed in France by the untiring labors of the good AbbÉ Saint-Pierre,—the most devoted among the apostles of Peace, and not to be confounded with the eloquent and eccentric Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, author of "Paul and Virginia," who, at a later day, beautifully painted the true Fraternity of Nations.[331] Of a genius less artistic and literary, the AbbÉ consecrated a whole life, crowned with venerable years, to the improvement of mankind. There was no humane cause he did not espouse: now it was the poor; now it was education; and now it was to exhibit the grandeur and sacredness of human nature; but he was especially filled with the idea of Universal Peace, and the importance of teaching nations, not less than individuals, the duty of doing as they would be done by. This was his passion, and it was elaborately presented in a work of three volumes, entitled "The Project of Perpetual Peace,"[332] where he proposes a Diet or Congress of Sovereigns, for the adjudication of international controversies without resort to War. Throughout his voluminous writings he constantly returns to this project, which was a perpetual vision, and records his regret that Newton and Descartes had not devoted their exalted genius to the study and exposition of the laws determining the welfare of men and nations, believing that they might have succeeded in organizing Peace. He dwells often on the beauty of Christian precepts in government, and the true glory of beneficence, while he exposes the vanity of military renown, and does not hesitate to question that false glory which procured for Louis the Fourteenth the undeserved title of Great, echoed by flattering courtiers and a barbarous world. The French language owes to him the word Bienfaisance; and D'Alembert said "it was right he should have invented the word who practised so largely the virtue it expresses."[333]

Though thus of benevolence all compact, Saint-Pierre was not the favorite of his age. A profligate minister, Cardinal Dubois, ecclesiastical companion of a vicious regent in the worst excesses, condemned his efforts in a phrase of satire, as "the dreams of a good man." The pen of La BruyÈre wantoned in a petty portrait of personal peculiarities.[334] Many turned the cold shoulder. The French Academy, of which he was a member, took from him his chair, and on the occasion of his death forbore the eulogy which is its customary tribute to a departed academician. But an incomparable genius in Germany,—an authority not to be questioned on any subject upon which he spoke,—the great and universal Leibnitz, bears his testimony to the "Project of Perpetual Peace," and, so doing, enrolls his own prodigious name in the catalogue of our cause. In observations on this Project, communicated to its author, under date of February 7, 1715, while declaring that it is supported by the practical authority of Henry the Fourth, that it justly interests the whole human race, and is not foreign to his own studies, as from youth he had occupied himself with law, and particularly with the Law of Nations, Leibnitz says: "I have read it with attention, and am persuaded that such a project, on the whole, is feasible, and that its execution would be one of the most useful things in the world. Although my suffrage cannot be of any weight, I have nevertheless thought that gratitude obliged me not to withhold it, and to join some remarks for the satisfaction of a meritorious author, who ought to have much reputation and firmness, to have dared and been able to oppose with success the prejudiced crowd, and the unbridled tongue of mockers."[335] Such testimony from Leibnitz must have been grateful to Saint-Pierre.

I cannot close this brief record of a philanthropist, constant in an age when War was more regarded than Humanity, without offering him an unaffected homage. To this faithful man may be addressed the sublime salutation which hymned from the soul of Milton:—

Waking hereafter from its martial trance, the world will rejoice to salute the greatness of his career.[337] It may well measure advance in civilization by the appreciation of his character.

Contemporary with Saint-Pierre was another Frenchman, to whom I have already referred, who flashed his genius upon the game of War. La BruyÈre exhibits men, for the sake of a piece of land more or less, agreeing among themselves to despoil, burn, and kill each other, even to cutting throats, and, for the doing of this more ingeniously and safely, inventing a beautiful system, known as the Art of War, to the practice of which is attached what is called Glory. The same satirist, who lived in an age of War, likens men to animals, even to dogs barking at each other, and then again to cats; and he furnishes a picture of the latter, counted by the thousand, and marshalled on an extended plain, where, after mewing their best, they throw themselves upon each other, tooth and nail, until nine or ten thousand of them are left dead on the field, infecting the air for ten leagues with an intolerable stench,—and all this for the love of Glory. But how, says the satirist, can we distinguish between those who use only tooth and nail and those others, who, first substituting lances, darts, and swords, now employ destructive balls, small and large, killing at once, while, penetrating a roof, they crash from garret to cellar, sacrificing even women and children? Wherein is the Glory?[338]

Saint-Pierre was followed by that remarkable genius, Jean Jacques Rousseau, in a small work with the modest title, "Extract from the Project of Perpetual Peace by the AbbÉ Saint-Pierre."[339] Without referring to those higher motives supplied by humanity, conscience, and religion, for addressing which to sovereigns Saint-Pierre incurred the ridicule of what are called practical statesmen, Rousseau appeals to common sense, and shows how much mere worldly interests would be promoted by submission to the arbitration of an impartial tribunal, rather than to the uncertain issue of arms, with no adequate compensation, even to the victor, for blood and treasure sacrificed. If this project fails, it is not, according to him, because chimerical, but because men have lost their wits, and it is a sort of madness to be wise in the midst of fools. As no scheme more grand, more beautiful, or more useful ever occupied the human mind, so, says Rousseau, no author ever deserved attention more than one proposing the means for its practical adoption; nor can any humane and virtuous man fail to regard it with enthusiasm.

The recommendations of Rousseau, reaching Germany, were encountered by a writer now remembered chiefly by this hardihood. I allude to Embser, who treats of Perpetual Peace in a work first published in 1779, under the title of "The Idolatry of our Philosophical Century,"[340] and at a later day with a new title, under the alias of the "Refutation of the Project of Perpetual Peace."[341] Objections common with the superficial or prejudiced are vehemently urged; the imputation upon Grotius is reproduced; and the project is pronounced visionary and impracticable, while War is exalted as an instrument more beneficent than Peace in advancing the civilization of mankind. At a later day Hegel gave the same testimony, thus contributing his considerable name to vindicate War.[342]

The cause of Saint-Pierre and Rousseau was not without champions in Germany. In 1763 we meet at GÖttingen the work of Totze, entitled "Permanent and Universal Peace, according to the Plan of Henry the Fourth";[343] and in 1767, at Leipsic, an ample and mature treatise by Lilienfeld, under the name of "New Constitution for States."[344] Truth often appears contemporaneously to different minds having no concert with each other; and the latter work, though in remarkable harmony with Saint-Pierre and Rousseau, is said to have been composed without any knowledge of their labors. Lilienfeld exposes the causes and calamities of War, the waste of armaments in time of Peace, and the miserable chances of the battle-field, where, in defiance of all justice, controversies are determined as by the throw of dice; and he urges submission to Arbitrators, unless, in their wisdom, nations establish a Supreme Tribunal with the combined power of the Confederacy to enforce its decrees.

It was the glory of another German, in intellectual preËminence the successor of Leibnitz, to illustrate this cause by special and repeated labors. At KÖnigsberg, in a retired corner of Prussia, away from the great lines of travel, Immanuel Kant consecrated his days to the pursuit of truth. During a long, virtuous, and disinterested life, stretching beyond the period appointed for man,—from 1724 to 1804,—in retirement, undisturbed by shock of revolution or war, never drawn by temptation of travel more than seven German miles from the place of his birth, he assiduously studied books, men, and things. Among the fruits of his ripened powers was that system of philosophy known as the "Critique of Pure Reason," by which he was at once established as a master-mind of his country. His words became the text for writers without number, who vied with each other in expounding, illustrating, or opposing his principles. At this period, after an unprecedented triumph in philosophy, when his name had become familiar wherever his mother-tongue was spoken, and while his rare faculties were yet untouched by decay, in the Indian Summer of life, the great thinker published a work "On Perpetual Peace."[345] Interest in the author, or in the cause, was attested by prompt translations into the French, Danish, and Dutch languages. In an earlier work, entitled "Idea for a General History in a Cosmopolitan View,"[346] he espoused the same cause, and at a later day, in his "Metaphysical Elements of Jurisprudence,"[347] he renewed his testimony. In the lapse of time the speculations of the philosopher have lost much of their original attraction; other systems, with other names, have taken their place. But these early and faithful labors for Perpetual Peace cannot be forgotten. Perhaps through these the fame of the applauded philosopher of KÖnigsberg may yet be preserved.

By Perpetual Peace Kant understood a condition of nations where there could be no fear of War; and this condition, he said, was demanded by reason, which, abhorring all War, as little adapted to establish right, must regard this final development of the Law of Nations as a consummation worthy of every effort. The philosopher was right in proposing nothing less than a reform of International Law. To this, according to him, all persons, and particularly all rulers, should bend their energies. A special league or treaty should be formed, which may be truly called a Treaty of Peace, having this peculiarity, that, whereas other treaties terminate a single existing War only, this should terminate forever all War between the parties to it. A Treaty of Peace, tacitly acknowledging the right to wage War, as all treaties now do, is nothing more than a Truce, not Peace. By these treaties an individual War is ended, but not the state of War. There may not be constant hostilities; but there will be constant fear of hostilities, with constant threat of aggression and attack. Soldiers and armaments, now nursed as a Peace establishment, become the fruitful parent of new wars. With real Peace, these would be abandoned. Nor should nations hesitate to bow before the law, like individuals. They must form one comprehensive federation, which, by the aggregation of other nations, would at last embrace the whole earth. And this, according to Kant, in the succession of years, by a sure progress, is the irresistible tendency of nations. To this end nations must be truly independent; nor is it possible for one nation to acquire another independent nation, whether by inheritance, exchange, purchase, or gift. A nation is not property. The philosophy of Kant, therefore, contemplated not only Universal Peace, but Universal Liberty. The first article of the great treaty would be, that every nation is free.

These important conclusions found immediate support from another German philosopher, Fichte, of remarkable acuteness and perfect devotion to truth, whose name, in his own day, awakened an echo inferior only to that of Kant. In his "Groundwork of the Law of Nature,"[348] published in 1796, he urges a Federation of Nations, with a Supreme Tribunal, as the best way of securing the triumph of justice, and of subduing the power of the unjust. To the suggestion, that by this Federation injustice might be done, he replied, that it would not be easy to find any common advantage tempting the confederate nations to do this wrong.

The subject was again treated in 1804, by a learned German, Karl Schwab, whose work, entitled "Of Unavoidable Injustice,"[349] deserves notice for practical clearness and directness. Nothing could be better than his idea of the Universal State, where nations will be united, as citizens in the Municipal State; nor have the promises of the Future been more carefully presented. He sees clearly, that, even when this triumph of civilization is won, justice between nations will not be always inviolate,—for, unhappily, between citizens it is not always so; but, whatever may be the exceptions, it will become the general rule. As in the Municipal State War no longer prevails, but offences, wrongs, and sallies of vengeance often proceed from individual citizens, with insubordination and anarchy sometimes,—so in the Universal State War will no longer prevail; but here also, between the different nations, who will be as citizens in the Federation, there may be wrongs and aggressions, with resistance even to the common power. In short, the Universal State will be subject to the same accidents as the Municipal State.

The cause of Permanent Peace became a thesis for Universities. At Stuttgart, in 1796, there was an oration by J.H. La Motte, entitled Utrum Pax Perpetua pangi possit, nec ne? And at Leyden, in 1808, there was a Dissertation by Gabinus de Wal, on taking his degree as Doctor of Laws, entitled Disputatio Philosophico-Juridica, de Conjunctione Populorum ad Pacem Perpetuam.[350] This learned and elaborate performance, after reviewing previous efforts in the cause, accords a preËminence to Kant. Such a voice from the University is the token of a growing sentiment, and an example for the youth of our own day.

Meanwhile in England the cause was espoused by that indefatigable jurist and reformer, Jeremy Bentham, who embraced it in his comprehensive labors. In an Essay on International Law, bearing date 1786-89, and first published in 1839, by his executor, Dr. Bowring,[351] he develops a plan for Universal and Perpetual Peace in the spirit of Saint-Pierre. Such, according to him, is the extreme folly, the madness, of War, that on no supposition can it be otherwise than mischievous. All Trade, in essence, is advantageous, even to the party who profits by it the least; all War, in essence, is ruinous: and yet the great employments of Government are to treasure up occasions of War, and to put fetters upon Trade. To remedy this evil, Bentham proposes, first, "The reduction and fixation of the forces of the several nations that compose the European system"; and in enforcing this proposition, he says: "Whatsoever nation should get the start of the other in making the proposal to reduce and fix the amount of its armed force would crown itself with everlasting honor. The risk would be nothing, the gain certain. This gain would be the giving an incontrovertible demonstration of its own disposition to peace, and of the opposite disposition in the other nation, in case of its rejecting the proposal." He next proposes an International Court of Judicature, with power to report its opinion, and to circulate it in each nation, and, after a certain delay, to put a contumacious nation under the ban. He denies that this system can be styled visionary in any respect: for it is proved, first, that it is the interest of the parties concerned; secondly, that the parties are already sensible of this interest; and, thirdly, that, enlightened by diplomatic experience in difficult and complicated conventions, they are prepared for the new situation. All this is sober and practical.

Coming to our own country, I find many names for commemoration. No person, in all history, has borne his testimony in phrases of greater pungency or more convincing truth than Benjamin Franklin. "In my opinion," he says, "there never was a good War or a bad Peace"; and he asks, "When will mankind be convinced that all Wars are follies, very expensive, and very mischievous, and agree to settle their differences by arbitration? Were they to do it even by the cast of a die, it would be better than by fighting and destroying each other." Then again he says: "We make daily great improvements in natural, there is one I wish to see in moral philosophy,—the discovery of a plan that would induce and oblige nations to settle their disputes without first cutting one another's throats. When will human reason be sufficiently improved to see the advantage of this?"[352] As diplomatist, Franklin strove to limit the evils of War. To him, while Minister at Paris, belongs the honor of those instructions, more glorious for the American name than any battle, where our naval cruisers, among whom was the redoubtable Paul Jones, were directed, in the interest of universal science, to allow a free and undisturbed passage to the returning expedition of Captain Cook, the great circumnavigator, who "steered Britain's oak into a world unknown."[353] To him also belongs the honor of introducing into a treaty with Prussia a provision for the abolition of that special scandal, Private War on the Ocean.[354] In similar strain with Franklin, Jefferson says: "Will nations never devise a more rational umpire of differences than Force?... War is an instrument entirely inefficient towards redressing wrong; it multiplies, instead of indemnifying losses."[355] And he proceeds to exhibit the waste of War, and the beneficent consequences, if its expenditures could be diverted to purposes of practical utility.

To Franklin especially must thanks be rendered for authoritative words and a precious example. But there are three names, fit successors of Saint-Pierre,—I speak only of those on whose career is the seal of death,—which even more than his deserve affectionate regard. I refer to Noah Worcester, William Ellery Channing, and William Ladd. To dwell on the services of these our virtuous champions would be a grateful task. The occasion allows a passing notice only.

In Worcester we behold the single-minded country clergyman, little gifted as preacher, with narrow means,—and his example teaches what such a character may accomplish,—in humble retirement, pained by the reports of War, and at last, as the protracted drama of battles was about to close at Waterloo, publishing that appeal, entitled "A Solemn Review of the Custom of War," which has been so extensively circulated at home and abroad, and has done so much to correct the inveterate prejudices which surround the cause. He was the founder, and for some time the indefatigable agent, of the earliest Peace Society in the country.

The eloquence of Channing was often, both with tongue and pen, directed against War. He was heart-struck by the awful degradation it caused, rudely blotting out in men the image of God their Father; and his words of flame have lighted in many souls those exterminating fires that can never die, until this evil is swept from the earth.

William Ladd, after completing his education at Harvard University, engaged in commercial pursuits. Early, through his own exertions, blessed with competency, he could not be idle. He was childless; and his affections embraced all the children of the human family. Like Worcester and Channing, his attention was arrested by the portentous crime of War, and he was moved to dedicate the remainder of his days to earnest, untiring effort for its abolition,—going about from place to place inculcating the lesson of Peace, with simple, cheerful manner winning the hearts of good men, and dropping in many youthful souls precious seeds to ripen in more precious fruit. He was the founder of the American Peace Society, in which was finally merged the earlier association established by Worcester. By a long series of practical labors, and especially by developing, maturing, and publishing the plan of an International Congress, has William Ladd enrolled himself among the benefactors of mankind.

Such are some of the names which hereafter, when the warrior no longer usurps the blessings promised to the peacemaker, will be inscribed on immortal tablets.

Now, at last, in the fulness of time, in our own day, by the labors of men of Peace, by the irresistible cooperating affinities of mankind, nations seem to be visibly approaching—even amidst tumult and discord—that Unity so long hoped for, prayed for. By steamboat, railroad, and telegraph, outstripping the traditional movements of government, men of all countries daily commingle, ancient prejudices fast dissolve, while ancient sympathies strengthen, and new sympathies come into being. The chief commercial cities of England send addresses of friendship to the chief commercial cities of France; and the latter delight to return the salutation. Similar cords of amity are twined between cities in England and cities in our own country. The visit to London of a band of French National Guards is reciprocated by the visit to Paris of a large company of Englishmen. Thus are achieved pacific conquests, where formerly all the force of arms could not prevail. Mr. Vattemare perambulates Europe and the United States to establish a system of literary international exchanges. By the daily agency of the press we are sharers in the trials and triumphs of brethren in all lands, and, renouncing the solitude of insulated nationalities, learn to live in the communion of associated states. By multitudinous reciprocities of commerce are developed relations of mutual dependence, stronger than treaties or alliances engrossed on parchment,—while, from a truer appreciation of the ethics of government, we arrive at the conviction, that the divine injunction, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you," was spoken to nations as well as to individuals.

From increasing knowledge of each other, and from a higher sense of duty as brethren of the Human Family, arises among mankind an increasing interest in each other; and charity, once, like patriotism, exclusively national, is beginning to clasp the world in its embrace. Every discovery of science, every aspiration of philanthropy, no matter what the country of its origin, is now poured into the common stock. Assemblies, whether of science or philanthropy, are no longer municipal merely, but welcome delegates from all the nations. Science has convened Congresses in Italy, Germany, and England. Great causes, grander even than Science,—like Temperance, Freedom, Peace,—have drawn to London large bodies of men from different countries, under the title of World Conventions, in whose very name and spirit of fraternity we discern the prevailing tendency. Such a convention, dedicated to Universal Peace, held at London in 1843, was graced by many well known for labors of humanity. At Frankfort, in 1846, was assembled a large Congress from all parts of Europe, to consider what could be done for those in prison. The succeeding year witnessed, at Brussels, a similar Congress, convened in the same charity. At last, in August, 1848, we hail, at Brussels, another Congress, inspired by the presence of a generous American, Elihu Burritt,—who has left his anvil at home to teach the nations how to change their swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning-hooks,—presided over by an eminent Belgian magistrate, and composed of numerous individuals, speaking various languages, living under diverse forms of government, various in political opinions, differing in religious convictions, but all moved by a common sentiment to seek the abolition of War, and the Disarming of the Nations.

The Peace Congress at Brussels constitutes an epoch. It is a palpable development of those international attractions and affinities which now await their final organization. The resolutions it adopted are so important that I cannot hesitate to introduce them.

"1. That, in the judgment of this Congress, an appeal to arms for the purpose of deciding disputes among nations is a custom condemned alike by religion, reason, justice, humanity, and the best interests of the people,—and that, therefore, it considers it to be the duty of the civilized world to adopt measures calculated to effect its entire abolition.

"2. That it is of the highest importance to urge on the several governments of Europe and America the necessity of introducing a clause into all International Treaties, providing for the settlement of all disputes by Arbitration, in an amicable manner, and according to the rules of justice and equity, by special Arbitrators, or a Supreme International Court, to be invested with power to decide in cases of necessity, as a last resort.

"3. That the speedy convocation of a Congress of Nations, composed of duly appointed representatives, for the purpose of framing a well-digested and authoritative International Code, is of the greatest importance, inasmuch as the organization of such a body, and the unanimous adoption of such a Code, would be an effectual means of promoting Universal Peace.

"4. That this Congress respectfully calls the attention of civilized governments to the necessity of a general and simultaneous disarmament, as a means whereby they may greatly diminish the financial burdens which press upon them, remove a fertile cause of irritation and inquietude, inspire mutual confidence, and promote the interchange of good offices, which, while they advance the interests of each state in particular, contribute largely to the maintenance of general Peace, and the lasting prosperity of nations."

In France these resolutions received the adhesion of Lamartine,—in England, of Richard Cobden. They have been welcomed throughout Great Britain, by large and enthusiastic popular assemblies, hanging with delight upon the practical lessons of peace on earth and good-will to men. At the suggestion of the Congress at Brussels, and in harmony with the demands of an increasing public sentiment, another Congress is called at Paris, in the approaching month of August. The place of meeting is auspicious. There, as in the very cave of Æolus, whence have so often raged forth conflicting winds and resounding tempests, are to gather delegates from various nations, including a large number from our own country, whose glad work will be to hush and imprison these winds and tempests, and to bind them in the chains of everlasting Peace.

Not in voluntary assemblies only has our cause found welcome. Into legislative halls it has made its way. A document now before me, in the handwriting of Samuel Adams, an approved patriot of the Revolution, bears witness to his desire for action on this subject in the Congress of the United States. It is in the form of a Letter of Instructions from the Legislature of Massachusetts to the delegates in Congress of this State, and, though without date, seems to have been prepared some time between the Treaty of Peace in 1783 and the adoption of the National Constitution in 1789. It is as follows.

"Gentlemen,—Although the General Court have lately instructed you concerning various matters of very great importance to this Commonwealth, they cannot finish the business of the year until they have transmitted to you a further instruction, which they have long had in contemplation, and which, if their most ardent wish could be obtained, might in its consequences extensively promote the happiness of man.

"You are, therefore, hereby instructed and urged to move the United States in Congress assembled to take into their deep and most serious consideration, whether any measures can by them be used, through their influence with such of the nations in Europe with whom they are united by Treaties of Amity or Commerce, that National Differences may be settled and determined without the necessity of War, in which the world has too long been deluged, to the destruction of human happiness and the disgrace of human reason and government.

"If, after the most mature deliberation, it shall appear that no measures can be taken at present on this very interesting subject, it is conceived it would redound much to the honor of the United States that it was attended to by their great Representative in Congress, and be accepted as a testimony of gratitude for most signal favors granted to the said States by Him who is the almighty and most gracious Father and Friend of mankind.

"And you are further instructed to move that the foregoing Letter of Instructions be entered on the Journals of Congress, if it may be thought proper, that so it may remain for the inspection of the delegates from this Commonwealth, if necessary, in any future time."[356]

I am not able to ascertain whether this document ever became a legislative act; but unquestionably it attests, in authentic form, that a great leader in Massachusetts, after the establishment of that Independence for which he had so assiduously labored, hoped to enlist not only the Legislature of his State, but the Congress of the United States, in efforts for the emancipation of nations from the tyranny of War. For this early effort, when the cause of Permanent Peace had never been introduced to any legislative body, Samuel Adams deserves grateful mention.

Many years later the subject reached Congress, where, in 1838, it was considered in an elaborate report by the late Mr. LegarÉ, in behalf of the Committee on Foreign Affairs of the House of Representatives, prompted by memorials from the friends of Peace. While injudiciously discountenancing an Association of Nations, as not yet sanctioned by public opinion, the Committee acknowledge "that the union of all nations in a state of Peace, under the restraints and the protection of law, is the ideal perfection of civil society"; that they "concur fully in the benevolent object of the memorialists, and believe that there is a visible tendency in the spirit and institutions of the age towards the practical accomplishment of it at some future period"; that they "heartily concur with the memorialists in recommending a reference to a Third Power of all such controversies as can safely be confided to any tribunal unknown to the Constitution of our own country"; and that "such a practice will be followed by other powers, and will soon grow up into the customary law of civilized nations."[357]

The Legislature of Massachusetts, by a series of resolutions, in harmony with the early sentiments of Samuel Adams, adopted, in 1844, with exceeding unanimity, declare, that they "regard Arbitration as a practical and desirable substitute for War, in the adjustment of international differences"; and still further declare their "earnest desire that the government of the United States would, at the earliest opportunity, take measures for obtaining the consent of the powers of Christendom to the establishment of a general Convention or Congress of Nations, for the purpose of settling the principles of International Law, and of organizing a High Court of Nations to adjudge all cases of difficulty which may be brought before them by the mutual consent of two or more nations."[358] During the winter of 1849 the subject was again presented to the American Congress by Mr. Tuck, who asked the unanimous consent of the House of Representatives to offer the following preamble and resolution:—

"Whereas the evils of War are acknowledged by all civilized nations, and the calamities, individual and general, which are inseparably connected with it, have attracted the attention of many humane and enlightened citizens of this and other countries; and whereas it is the disposition of the people of the United States to coÖperate with others in all appropriate and judicious exertions to prevent a recurrence of national conflicts; therefore,

"Resolved, That the Committee on Foreign Affairs be directed to inquire into the expediency of authorizing a correspondence to be opened by the Secretary of State with Foreign Governments, on the subject of procuring Treaty stipulations for the reference of all future disputes to a friendly Arbitration, or for the establishment, instead thereof, of a Congress of Nations, to determine International Law and settle international disputes."[359]

Though for the present unsuccessful, this excellent effort prepares the way for another trial.

Nor does it stand alone. Almost contemporaneously, M. Bouvet, in the National Assembly of France, submitted a proposition of a similar character, as follows:—

"Seeing that War between nations is contrary to religion, humanity, and the public well-being, the French National Assembly decrees:—

"The French Republic proposes to the Governments and Representative Assemblies of the different States of Europe, America, and other civilized countries, to unite, by their representation, in a Congress which shall have for its object a proportional disarmament among the Powers, the abolition of War, and a substitution for that barbarous usage of an Arbitral jurisdiction, of which the said Congress shall immediately fulfil the functions."

In an elaborate report, the French Committee on Foreign Affairs, while declining at present to recommend this proposition, distinctly sanction its object.

At a still earlier date, some time in the summer of 1848, Arnold Ruge brought the same measure before the German Parliament at Frankfort, by moving the following amendment to the Report of the Committee on Foreign Affairs:—

"That, as Armed Peace, by its standing armies, imposes an intolerable burden upon the people of Europe, and endangers civil freedom, we therefore recognize the necessity of calling into existence a Congress of Nations, for the purpose of effecting a general disarmament of Europe."

Though this proposition failed, yet the mover is reported to have sustained it by a speech which was received with applause, both in the assembly and gallery. Among other things, he used these important words:—

"There is no necessity for feeding an army of military idlers and eaters. There is nothing to fear from our neighbor barbarians, as they are called. You must give up the idea that the French will eat us up, and that the Prussians can eat us up. Soldiers must cease to exist; then shall no more cities be bombarded. These opinions must be kept up and propagated by a Congress of Nations. I vote that the nations of Europe disarm at once."

In the British Parliament the cause has found an able representative in Mr. Cobden, whose name is an omen of success. He has addressed many large popular meetings in its behalf, and already, by speech and motion in the House of Commons, has striven for a reduction in the armaments of Great Britain. Only lately he gave notice of the following motion, which he intends to call up in that assembly at the earliest moment:—

"That an humble address be presented to her Majesty, praying that she will be graciously pleased to direct her Principal Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs to enter into communication with Foreign Powers, inviting them to concur in treaties binding the respective parties, in the event of any future misunderstanding which cannot be arranged by amicable negotiation, to refer the matter in dispute to the decision of Arbitrators."

Such is the Peace Movement.[360] With the ever-flowing current of time it has gained ever-increasing strength, and it has now become like a mighty river. At first but a slender fountain, sparkling on some lofty summit, it has swollen with every tributary rill, with the friendly rains and dews of heaven, and at last with the associate waters of various nations, until it washes the feet of populous cities, rejoicing on its peaceful banks. By the voices of poets,—by the aspirations and labors of statesmen, philosophers, and good men,—by the experience of history,—by the peaceful union into nations of families, tribes, and provinces, divesting themselves of "liberty" to wage War,—by the example of leagues, alliances, confederacies, and congresses,—by the kindred movements of our age, all tending to Unity,—by an awakened public sentiment, and a growing recognition of Human Brotherhood,—by the sympathies of large popular assemblies,—by the formal action of legislative bodies,—by the promises of Christianity, are we encouraged to persevere. So doing, we act not against Nature, but with Nature, making ourselves, according to the injunction of Lord Bacon, its ministers and interpreters. From no single man, from no body of men, does this cause proceed. Not from Saint-Pierre or Leibnitz, from Rousseau or Kant, in other days,—not from Jay or Burritt, from Cobden or Lamartine, in our own. It is the irrepressible utterance of the longing with which the heart of Humanity labors; it is the universal expression of the Spirit of the Age, thirsting after Harmony; it is the heaven-born whisper of Truth, immortal and omnipotent; it is the word of God, published in commands as from the burning bush; it is the voice of Christ, declaring to all mankind that they are brothers, and saying to the turbulent nationalities of the earth, as to the raging sea, "Peace, be still!"

Gentlemen of the Peace Society,—Such is the War System of the Commonwealth of Nations; and such are the means and auguries of its overthrow. To aid and direct public sentiment so as to hasten the coming of this day is the chosen object of this Society. All who have candidly attended me in this exposition will bear witness that our attempt is in no way inconsistent with the human character,—that we do not seek to suspend or hold in check any general laws of Nature, but simply to overthrow a barbarous Institution, having the sanction of International Law, and to bring nations within that system of social order which has already secured such inestimable good to civil society, and is as applicable to nations in their relations with each other as to individuals.

Tendencies of nations, as revealed in history, teach that our aims are in harmony with prevailing laws, which God, in his benevolence, has ordained for mankind.

Examples teach also that we attempt nothing that is not directly practicable. If the several States of the Helvetic Republic, if the thirty independent States of the North American Union, if the thirty-eight independent sovereignties of the German Confederation, can, by formal stipulation, divest themselves of the right of war with each other, and consent to submit all mutual controversies to Arbitration, or to a High Court of Judicature, then can the Commonwealth of Nations do the same. Nor should they hesitate, while, in the language of William Penn, such surpassing instances show that it may be done, and Europe, by her incomparable miseries, that it ought to be done. Nay, more,—if it would be criminal in these several clusters of States to reËstablish the Institution of War as Arbiter of Justice, then is it criminal in the Commonwealth of Nations to continue it.

Changes already wrought in the Laws of War teach that the whole System may be abolished. The existence of laws implies authority that sanctions or enacts, which, in the present case, is the Commonwealth of Nations. This authority can, of course, modify or abrogate what it originally sanctioned or enacted. In the exercise of this power, the Laws of War have been modified, from time to time, in important particulars. Prisoners taken in battle cannot now be killed; nor can they be reduced to slavery. Poison and assassination can no longer be employed against an enemy. Private property on land cannot be seized. Persons occupied on land exclusively with the arts of Peace cannot be molested. It remains that the authority by which the Laws of War have been thus modified should entirely abrogate them. Their existence is a disgrace to civilization; for it implies the common consent of nations to the Arbitrament of War, as regulated by these laws. Like the Laws of the Duel, they should yield to some arbitrament of reason. If the former, once so firmly imbedded in Municipal Law, could be abolished by individual nations, so also can the Laws of War, which are a part of International Law, be abolished by the Commonwealth of Nations. In the light of reason and religion there can be but one Law of War,—the great law which pronounces it unwise, unchristian, and unjust, and forbids it forever, as a crime.

Thus distinctly alleging the practicability of our aims, I may properly introduce an incontrovertible authority. Listen to the words of an American statesman, whose long life was spent, at home or abroad, in the service of his country, and whose undoubted familiarity with the Law of Nations was never surpassed,—John Quincy Adams. "War," he says, in one of the legacies of his venerable experience, "by the common consent and mere will of civilized man, has not only been divested of its most atrocious cruelties, but for multitudes, growing multitudes of individuals, has already been and is abolished. Why should it not be abolished for all? Let it be impressed upon the heart of every one of you, impress it upon the minds of your children, that this total abolition of War upon earth is an improvement in the condition of man entirely dependent on his own will. He cannot repeal or change the laws of physical Nature. He cannot redeem himself from the ills that flesh is heir to. But the ills of War and Slavery are all of his own creation; he has but to will, and he effects the cessation of them altogether."[361]

Well does John Quincy Adams say that mankind have but to will it, and War is abolished. Will it, and War disappears like the Duel. Will it, and War skulks like the Torture. Will it, and War fades away like the fires of religious persecution. Will it, and War passes among profane follies, like the ordeal of burning ploughshares. Will it, and War hurries to join the earlier institution of Cannibalism. Will it, and War is chastised from the Commonwealth of Nations, as Slavery has been chastised from municipal jurisdictions by England and France, by Tunis and Tripoli.

To arouse this public will, which, like a giant, yet sleeps, but whose awakened voice nothing can withstand, should be our endeavor. The true character of the War System must be exposed. To be hated, it needs only to be comprehended; and it will surely be abolished as soon as this is accomplished. See, then, that it is comprehended. Exhibit its manifold atrocities. Strip away all its presumptuous pretences, its specious apologies, its hideous sorceries. Above all, men must no longer deceive themselves by the shallow thought that this System is the necessary incident of imperfect human nature, and thus cast upon God the responsibility for their crimes. They must see clearly that it is a monster of their own creation, born with their consent, whose vital spark is fed by their breath, and without their breath must necessarily die. They must see distinctly, what I have so carefully presented to-night, that War, under the Law of Nations, is nothing but an Institution, and the whole War System nothing but an Establishment for the administration of international justice, for which the Commonwealth of Nations is directly responsible, and which that Commonwealth can at any time remove.

Recognizing these things, men must cease to cherish War, and will renounce all appeal to its Arbitrament. They will forego rights, rather than wage an irreligious battle. But, criminal and irrational as is War, unhappily, in the present state of human error, we cannot expect large numbers to appreciate its true character, and to hate it with that perfect hatred making them renounce its agency, unless we offer an approved and practical mode of determining international controversies, as a substitute for the imagined necessity of the barbarous ordeal. This we are able to do; and so doing, we reflect new light upon the atrocity of a system which not only tramples upon all the precepts of the Christian faith, but defies justice and discards reason.

1. The most complete and permanent substitute would be a Congress of Nations, with a High Court of Judicature. Such a system, while admitted on all sides to promise excellent results, is opposed on two grounds. First, because, as regards the smaller states, it would be a tremendous engine of oppression, subversive of their political independence. Surely, it could not be so oppressive as the War System. But the experience of the smaller States in the German Confederation and in the American Union, nay, the experience of Belgium and Holland by the side of the overtopping power of France, and the experience of Denmark and Sweden in the very night-shade of Russia, all show the futility of this objection. Secondly, because the decrees of such a court could not be carried into effect. Even if they were enforced by the combined power of the associate nations, the sword, as the executive arm of the high tribunal, would be only the melancholy instrument of Justice, not the Arbiter of Justice, and therefore not condemned by the conclusive reasons against international appeals to the sword. From the experience of history, and particularly from the experience of the thirty States of our Union, we learn that the occasion for any executive arm will be rare. The State of Rhode Island, in its recent controversy with Massachusetts, submitted with much indifference to the adverse decree of the Supreme Court; and I doubt not that Missouri and Iowa will submit with equal contentment to any determination of their present controversy by the same tribunal. The same submission would attend the decrees of any Court of Judicature established by the Commonwealth of Nations. There is a growing sense of justice, combined with a growing might of public opinion, too little known to the soldier, that would maintain the judgments of the august tribunal assembled in the face of the Nations, better than the swords of all the marshals of France, better than the bloody terrors of Austerlitz or Waterloo.

The idea of a Congress of Nations with a High Court of Judicature is as practicable as its consummation is confessedly dear to the friends of Universal Peace. Whenever this Congress is convened, as surely it will be, I know not all the names that will deserve commemoration in its earliest proceedings; but there are two, whose particular and long-continued advocacy of this Institution will connect them indissolubly with its fame,—the AbbÉ Saint-Pierre, of France, and William Ladd, of the United States.

2. There is still another substitute for War, which is not exposed even to the shallow objections launched against a Congress of Nations. By formal treaties between two or more nations, Arbitration may be established as the mode of determining controversies between them. In every respect this is a contrast to War. It is rational, humane, and cheap. Above all, it is consistent with the teachings of Christianity. As I mention this substitute, I should do injustice to the cause and to my own feelings, if I did not express our obligations to its efficient proposer and advocate, our fellow-citizen, and the President of this Society, the honored son of an illustrious father, whose absence to-night enables me, without offending his known modesty, to introduce this tribute: I mean William Jay.

The complete overthrow of the War System, involving the disarming of the Nations, would follow the establishment of a Congress of Nations, or any general system of Arbitration. Then at last our aims would be accomplished; then at last Peace would be organized among the Nations. Then might Christians repeat the fitful boast of the generous Mohawk: "We have thrown the hatchet so high into the air, and beyond the skies, that no arm on earth can reach to bring it down." Incalculable sums, now devoted to armaments and the destructive industry of War, would be turned to the productive industry of Art and to offices of Beneficence. As in the dead and rotten carcass of the lion which roared against the strong man of Israel, after a time, were a swarm of bees and honey, so would the enormous carcass of War, dead and rotten, be filled with crowds of useful laborers and all good works, and the riddle of Samson be once more interpreted: "Out of the eater came forth meat, and out of the strong came forth sweetness."

Put together the products of all the mines in the world,—the glistening ore of California, the accumulated treasures of Mexico and Peru, with the diamonds of Golconda,—and the whole shining heap will be less than the means thus diverted from War to Peace. Under the influence of such a change, civilization will be quickened anew. Then will happy Labor find its reward, and the whole land be filled with its increase. There is no aspiration of Knowledge, no vision of Charity, no venture of Enterprise, no fancy of Art, which may not then be fulfilled. The great unsolved problem of Pauperism will be solved at last. There will be no paupers, when there are no soldiers. The social struggles, so fearfully disturbing European nations, will die away in the happiness of unarmed Peace, no longer incumbered by the oppressive system of War; nor can there be well-founded hope that these struggles will permanently cease, so long as this system endures. The people ought not to rest, they cannot rest, while this system endures. As King Arthur, prostrate on the earth, with bloody streams pouring from his veins, could not be at ease, until his sword, the terrific Excalibar, was thrown into the flood, so the Nations, now prostrate on the earth, with bloody streams pouring from their veins, cannot be at ease, until they fling far away the wicked sword of War. King Arthur said to his attending knight, "As thou love me, spare not to throw it in"; and this is the voice of the Nations also.

Lop off the unchristian armaments of the Christian Nations, extirpate these martial cancers, that they may feed no longer upon the life-blood of the people, and society itself, now weary and sick, will become fresh and young,—not by opening its veins, as under the incantation of Medea, in the wild hope of infusing new strength, but by the amputation and complete removal of a deadly excrescence, with all its unutterable debility and exhaustion. Energies hitherto withdrawn from proper healthful action will then replenish it with unwonted life and vigor, giving new expansion to every human capacity, and new elevation to every human aim. And society at last shall rejoice, like a strong man, to run its race.

Imagination toils to picture the boundless good that will be achieved. As War with its deeds is infinitely evil and accursed, so will this triumph of Permanent Peace be infinitely beneficent and blessed. Something of its consequences were seen, in prophetic vision, even by that incarnate Spirit of War, Napoleon Bonaparte, when, from his island-prison of St. Helena, looking back upon his mistaken career, he was led to confess the True Grandeur of Peace. Out of his mouth let its praise be spoken. "I had the project," he said, mournfully regretting the opportunity he had lost, "at the general peace of Amiens, of bringing each Power to an immense reduction of its standing armies. I wished a European Institute, with European prizes, to direct, associate, and bring together all the learned societies of Europe. Then, perhaps, through the universal spread of light, it might be permitted to anticipate for the great European Family the establishment of an American Congress, or an Amphictyonic Council; and what a perspective then of strength, of greatness, of happiness, of prosperity! What a sublime and magnificent spectacle!"[362]

Such is our cause. In transcendent influence, it embraces human beneficence in all its forms. It is the comprehensive charity, enfolding all the charities of all. None so vast as to be above its protection, none so lowly as not to feel its care. Religion, Knowledge, Freedom, Virtue, Happiness, in all their manifold forms, depend upon Peace. Sustained by Peace, they lean upon the Everlasting Arm. And this is not all. Law, Order, Government, derive from Peace new sanctions. Nor can they attain to that complete dominion which is our truest safeguard, until, by the overthrow of the War System, they comprehend the Commonwealth of Nations,—

In the name of Religion profaned, of Knowledge misapplied and perverted, of Freedom crushed to earth, of Virtue dethroned, of human Happiness violated, in the name of Law, Order, and Government, I call upon you for union to establish the supremacy of Peace. There must be no hesitation. With the lips you confess the infinite evil of War. Are you in earnest? Action must follow confession. All must unite to render the recurrence of this evil impossible. Science and Humanity everywhere put forth all possible energy against cholera and pestilence. Why not equal energy against an evil more fearful than cholera or pestilence? Each man must consider the cause his own. Let him animate his neighbors. Let him seek, in every proper way, to influence the rulers of the Nations, and, above all, the rulers of this happy land.

The old, the middle-aged, and the young must combine in a common cause. The pulpit, the school, the college, and the public street must speak for it. Preach it, minister of the Prince of Peace! let it never be forgotten in conversation, sermon, or prayer; nor any longer seek, by specious theory, to reconcile the monstrous War System with the precepts of Christ! Instil it, teacher of childhood and youth! in the early thoughts of your precious charge; exhibit the wickedness of War and the beauty of Peace; let your warnings sink deep among those purifying and strengthening influences which ripen into true manhood. Scholar! write it in your books, so that all shall read it. Poet! sing it, so that all shall love it. Let the interests of commerce, whose threads of golden tissue interknit the Nations, enlist the traffickers of the earth in its behalf. And you, servant of the law! sharer of my own peculiar toils, mindful that the law is silent in the midst of arms, join to preserve, uphold, and extend its sway. Remember, politician! that our cause is too universal to become the exclusive possession of any political party, or to be confined within any geographical limits. See to it, statesman and ruler! that the principles of Peace are as a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. Let the Abolition of War, and the Overthrow of the War System, with the Disarming of the Nations, be your guiding star. Be this your pious diplomacy! Be this your lofty Christian statesmanship!

As a measure simple and practical, obnoxious to no objection, promising incalculable good, and presenting an immediate opportunity for labor, I would invite your coÖperation in the effort now making at home and abroad to establish Arbitration Treaties. If in this scheme there is a tendency to avert War,—if, through its agency, we may hope to prevent a single war,—and who can doubt that such may be its result?—we ought to adopt it. Take the initiative. Try it, and nations will never return to the barbarous system. They will begin to learn War no more. Let it be our privilege to volunteer the proposal. Thus shall we inaugurate Permanent Peace in the diplomacy of the world. Nor should we wait for other governments. In a cause so holy, no government should wait for another. Let us take the lead. Let our republic, powerful child of Freedom, go forth, the Evangelist of Peace. Let her offer to the world a Magna Charta of International Law, by which the crime of War shall be forever abolished.

While thus encouraging you in behalf of Universal Peace, the odious din of War, mingled with pathetic appeals for Freedom, reaches us from struggling Italy, from convulsed Germany, from aroused and triumphant Hungary. At bidding of the Russian Autocrat, the populous North threatens to pour its multitudes upon the scene; and a portentous cloud, charged with "red lightning and impetuous rage," hangs over the whole continent of Europe, which echoes again to the tread of mustering squadrons. Alas! must this dismal work be renewed? Can Freedom be born, can nations be regenerated, only through baptism of blood? In our aspirations, I would not be blind to the teachings of History, or to the actual condition of men, so long accustomed to brute force, that, to their imperfect natures, it seems the only means by which injustice can be crushed. With sadness I confess that we cannot expect the domestic repose of nations, until tyranny is overthrown, and the principles of self-government are established; especially do I not expect imperturbable peace in Italy, so long as foreign Austria, with insolent iron heel, continues to tread any part of that beautiful land. But whatever may be the fate of the present crisis, whether it be doomed to the horrors of prolonged strife, or shall soon brighten into the radiance of enduring concord, I cannot doubt that the Nations are gravitating, with resistless might, even through fire and blood, into peaceful forms of social order, where the War System will cease to be known.

Nay, from the experience of this hour I draw the auguries of Permanent Peace. Not in any international strife, not in duel between nation and nation, not in selfish conflict of ruler with ruler, not in the unwise "game" of War, as played by king with king, do we find the origin of present commotions, "with fear of change perplexing monarchs." It is to overturn the enforced rule of military power, to crush the tyranny of armies, and to supplant unjust government,—whose only stay is physical force, and not the consent of the governed,—that the people have risen in mighty madness. So doing, they wage a battle where all our sympathies must be with Freedom, while, in sorrow at the unwelcome combat, we confess that victory is only less mournful than defeat. Through all these bloody mists the eye of Faith discerns the ascending sun, struggling to shoot its life-giving beams upon the outspread earth, teeming with the grander products of a new civilization. Everywhere salute us the signs of Progress; and the Promised Land smiles at the new epoch. His heart is cold, his eye is dull, who does not perceive the change. Vainly has he read the history of the Past, vainly does he feel the irrepressible movement of the Present. Man has waded through a Red Sea of blood, and for forty centuries wandered through a wilderness of wretchedness and error, but he stands at last on Pisgah: like the adventurous Spaniard, he has wearily climbed the mountain heights, whence he may descry the vast, unbroken Pacific Sea; like the hardy Portuguese, he is sure to double this fearful Cape of Storms, destined ever afterwards to be the Cape of Good Hope. I would not seem too confident. I know not, that, in any brief period, nations, like kindred drops, will commingle into one,—that, like the banyan-trees of the East, they will interlace and interlock, until there are no longer separate trees, but one united wood,

but I rest assured, that, without renouncing any essential qualities of individuality or independence, they may yet, even in our own day, arrange themselves in harmony; as magnetized iron rings,—from which Plato once borrowed an image,—under the influence of potent unseen attraction, while preserving each its own peculiar form, cohere in a united chain of independent circles. From the birth of this new order will spring not only international repose, but domestic quiet also; and Peace will become the permanent rule of civilization. The stone will be rolled away from the sepulchre in which men have laid their Lord, and we shall hear the new-risen voice, saying, in words of blessed truth, "Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world."

Here I might fitly close. Though admonished that I have already occupied more of your time than I could venture to claim, except for the cause, I cannot forbear to consider, for a brief moment, yet one other topic, which I have left thus far untouched, partly because it is not directly connected with the main argument, and therefore seemed inappropriate to any earlier stage, and partly because I wished to impress it with my last words. I refer to that greatest, most preposterous, and most irreligious of earthly vanities, the monstrous reflection of War,—Military Glory.

Let me not disguise the truth. Too true it is that this vanity is still cherished by mankind,—that it is still an object of ambition,—that men follow War, and count its pursuit "honorable,"—that feats of brute force are heralded "brilliant,"—and that a yet prevailing public opinion animates unreflecting mortals to "seek the bubble reputation even in the cannon's mouth." Too true it is that nations persevere in offering praise and thanksgiving—such as no labors of Beneficence can achieve—to the chief whose hands are red with the blood of his fellow-men.

Whatever the usage of the world, whether during the long and dreary Past or in the yet barbarous Present, it must be clear to all who confront this question with candor, and do not turn away from the blaze of truth, that any glory from bloody strife among God's children must be fugitive, evanescent, unreal. It is the offspring of a deluded public sentiment, and will disappear, as we learn to analyze its elements and appreciate its character. Too long has mankind worshipped what St. Augustine called the splendid vices, neglecting the simple virtues,—too long cultivated the flaunting and noxious weeds, careless of the golden corn,—too long been insensible to that commanding law and sacred example which rebuke all the pretensions of military glory.

Look face to face at this "glory." Study it in the growing illumination of history. Regarding War as an established Arbitrament, for the adjudication of controversies among nations,—like the Petty Wars of an earlier period between cities, principalities, and provinces, or like the Trial by Battle between individuals,—the conclusion is irresistible, that an enlightened civilization, when the world has reached that Unity to which it tends, must condemn the partakers in its duels, and their vaunted achievements, precisely as we now condemn the partakers in those wretched contests which disfigure the commencement of modern history. The prowess of the individual is forgotten in disgust at an inglorious barbarism.

Observe this "glory" in the broad sunshine of Christian truth. In all ages, even in Heathen lands, there has been a peculiar reverence for the relation of Brotherhood. Feuds among brothers, from that earliest "mutual-murdering" conflict beneath the walls of Thebes, have been accounted ghastly and abhorred, never to be mentioned without a shudder. This sentiment was revived in modern times, and men sought to extend the circle of its influence. Warriors, like Du Guesclin, rejoiced to hail each other as brothers. Chivalry delighted in fraternities of arms sealed by vow and solemnity. According to curious and savage custom, valiant knights were bled together, that their blood, as it spurted forth, might intermingle, and thus constitute them of one blood, which was drunk by each. So did the powerful emperor of Constantinople confirm an alliance of friendship with a neighbor king. The two monarchs drank of each other's blood; and then their attendants, following the princely example, caught their own flowing life in a wine-cup, and quaffed a mutual pledge, saying, "We are brothers, of one blood."[364]

By such profane devices men sought to establish that relation, whose beauty they perceived, though they failed to discern, that, by the ordinance of God, without any human stratagem, it justly comprehended all their fellow-men. In the midst of Judaism, which hated Gentiles, Christianity proclaimed love to all mankind, and distinctly declared that God had made of one blood all the nations of men. As if to keep this sublime truth ever present, the disciples were taught, in the simple prayer of the Saviour, to address God as Father in heaven,—not in phrase of exclusive worship, "my Father," but in those other words of peculiar Christian import, "our Father,"—with the petition, not merely to "forgive me my trespasses," but with the diviner prayer, to "forgive us our trespasses": thus, in the solitude of the closet, recognizing all alike as children of God, and embracing all alike in the petition for mercy.

Confessing the Fatherhood of God, and the consequent Brotherhood of Man, we find a divine standard of unquestionable accuracy. No brother can win "glory" from the death of a brother. Cain won no "glory," when he slew Abel; nor would Abel have won "glory," had he, in strictest self-defence, succeeded in slaying the wicked Cain. The soul recoils from praise or honor, as the meed of any such melancholy triumph. And what is true of a conflict between two brothers is equally true of a conflict between many. How can an army win "glory" by dealing death or defeat to an army of its brothers?

The ancient Romans, not knowing this comprehensive relation, and recognizing only the exclusive fellowship of a common country, accounted civil war fratricidal, whose opposing forces, even under well-loved names of the Republic, were impious; and then, by unerring logic, these masters in War constantly refused "honor," "thanksgiving," or "triumph," to the conquering chief whose sword had been employed against fellow-citizens, though traitors and rebels. As the Brotherhood of Man is practically recognized, it becomes impossible to restrict the feeling within any exclusive circle of country, and to set up an unchristian distinction of honor between civil war and international war. As all men are brothers, so, by irresistible consequence, ALL WAR MUST BE FRATRICIDAL. And can "glory" come from fratricide? None can hesitate in answer, unless fatally imbued with the Heathen rage of nationality, that made the Venetians declare themselves Venetians first and Christians afterwards.

Tell me not of homage yet offered to the military chieftain. Tell me not of "glory" from War. Tell me not of "honor" or "fame" on its murderous fields. All is vanity. It is a blood-red phantom. They who strive after it, Ixion-like, embrace a cloud. Though seeming to fill the heavens, cloaking the stars, it must, like the vapors of earth, pass away. Milton likens the contests of the Heptarchy to "the wars of kites or crows flocking and fighting in the air."[365] But God, and the exalted judgment of the Future, must regard all our bloody feuds in the same likeness,—finding Napoleon and Alexander, so far as engaged in War, only monster crows and kites. Thus must it be, as mankind ascend from the thrall of brutish passion. Nobler aims, by nobler means, will fill the soul. There will be a new standard of excellence; and honor, divorced from blood, will become the inseparable attendant of good works alone. Far better, then, even in the judgment of this world, to have been a doorkeeper in the house of Peace than the proudest dweller in the tents of War.

There is a pious legend of the early Church, that the Saviour left his image miraculously impressed upon a napkin which had touched his countenance. The napkin was lost, and men attempted to supply the divine lineaments from the Heathen models of Jupiter and Apollo. But the true image of Christ is not lost. Clearer than in the venerated napkin, better than in color or marble of choicest art, it appears in each virtuous deed, in every act of self-sacrifice, in all magnanimous toil, in any recognition of Human Brotherhood. It will be supremely manifest, in unimagined loveliness and serenity, when the Commonwealth of Nations, confessing the True Grandeur of Peace, renounces the War System, and dedicates to Beneficence the comprehensive energies so fatally absorbed in its support. Then, at last, will it be seen, there can be no Peace that is not honorable, and no War that is not dishonorable.

[75] Roscoe, Life of Cervantes, pp. 32, 310, 311. In the same spirit Thomas Phelps says, "I looked upon my condition as desperate; my forlorn and languishing state of life, without any hope of redemption, appeared far worse than the terrors of a most cruel death."—Osborne's Voyages, Vol. II. p. 504.