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the gilded epaulette, and the nodding plume, and the prancing steed, and all the witchery of fife, and drum, and bugle-horn, are suffered to beguile the young into a blind, wild admiration of what, if seen as it really is, they would regard with almost instinctive disgust or abhorrence.

The evil is well-nigh universal Even pious mothers and Christian ministers will purchaseonce they certainly did-caps, and feathers, and tin swords, and wooden guns, for their own sons, and then encourage them in forming little companies of juvenile volunteers, to prepare in beardless boyhood for the trade of blood! Thus have Christians themselves been, age after age, scattering broadcast over Christendom the veriest seeds of war, and then started back aghast to see everywhere springing up such a harvest of death as lately waved in blood and fire all over Europe.

I must avow it; for on every side do I see at work causes not designed, yet fatally calculated to nourish the war-spirit, to perpetuate the war-system, and thus pave the way for more military Molochs, for other deluges of blood. Go to many a toy-shop, kept perhaps by Christians themselves; and what will you there find? A whole cart-load of war toys -drums, and guns, and swords, and rude busts of warriors, and entire platoons of mounted horsemen, or armed footmen, all painted and gilded, to dazzle the minds of children into a premature, unnatural fondness for war. Go to the houses of Christians; and will you there find no portraits of ancient or modern warriors, no pictures of battles or other war-scenes? Almost the only pictures I ever saw in my childhood; and, should you go through the land, you would, I fear, find a hundred portraits of Napoleon to one of such a man, as Brainard, or Sebwartz, or Howard.

The whole system of preparations for war seems, also, to prolong the custom. They form a species of investment that interests society at large in its continuance. Every appropriation for war purposes, every military school, every fort and war-ship, every regiment and every crew, every office in the army or the navy, every pensioner entailed by war upon the government, all are so many arrangements for upholding the system; and its social ramifications, in a country like England, interest in one way or another almost every considerable family in its support and perpetuity.

These preparations, moreover, nourish that spirit of national honor, which forms the chief incentive to war. "It is difficult," says Sumner, "to define what is so evanescent, so impalpable, so chimerical, so unreal, and yet which exerts such power over many men, and controls the relations of states. Our community frowns with indignation upon the profaneness of the duel, which has its rise in this irrational point of honor; but are they aware that they themselves indulge the sentiment on a gigantic scale, when they recognize what is called the honor of the country as a proper ground for war? The point of honor belongs to a semi-barbarous age; and let it stay with the daggers, the swords, and the weapons of combat by which it was guarded; let it appear only with its inseparable companions, the bowie-knife and the pistol!"

War is, also, upheld by a variety of adventitious charms. Addressing itself to the lowest, most puerile tastes, it flaunts before the multitude in gaudy, fantastic decorations. Its finery is peculiar and proverbial. "The soldier," says Channing, "is the only harlequin left in the nineteenth century." Rush used to say, that war could not live without its uniforms; and if it had no splendid trappings,

no inspiring music, no set days for parade and display; if its agents were simply enrolled for service, as men are for the jury-box, and called out only to do their foul and bloody work; if they were then to come forth without fife, or drum, or bugle, with no waving plume, or gilded epaulette, but dressed appropriately for their work as human butchers, or as the hangman goes with halter, coffin and grave ready for his victim; how long would men bear the naked abomination?

" On

A multitude of higher influences are everywhere conspiring to perpetuate this grand delusion. every side of me," says Chalmers, "I see causes at work, which go to spread a most delusive coloring over war, and to remove its shocking barbarities to the background of our contemplations altogether. I see it in the history which tells me of the superb appearance of the troops, and the brilliancy of their successive charges. I see it in the poetry which lends the magic of its numbers to the narrative of blood, and transports its many admirers, as by its images, and its figures, and its nodding plumes of chivalry, it throws its treacherous embellishments over a scene of legalized slaughter. I see it in the music which represents the progress of the battle; and where, after being inspired by the trumpet-notes of preparation, the whole beauty and tenderness of a drawing-room are seen to bend over the sentimental entertainment; nor do I hear the utterance of a single sigh to interrupt the death-tones of the thickening contest, and the moans of the wounded men as they fade away upon the ear, and sink into lifeless silence. All, all goes to prove what strange and half-sighted creatures we are."

There seems to be a general conspiracy in support of this custom. Public opinion is utterly

wrong. It canonizes war, and prompts the poet to chant its praises, and the historian to eulogize its deeds of blood, and the hand of beauty to weave chaplets for its gory brow, and government to lavish on its agents large pay, liberal pensions, and the highest honors, both in life, and after death. Not a monument nor a statue, not a peerage nor a pension won by war, that does not act as a sentinel to guard the custom alike from assault and decay.

War has intrenched itself in nearly all the high places of the world. It has subsidized the hearth, the pulpit and the press, poetry and eloquence, philosophy and history, the harp, the chisel, and the pencil. Its mania has overspread the whole earth; its mighty spell has bound the master-minds of every age; and its atmosphere of death hangs over all the fields of ancient and modern literature. Scarce a poet or orator, historian or philosopher of antiquity, that did not worship at the shrine of the war-demon, and bequeathe to posterity some memorial of his devotion. All history is a virtual eulogy of war and warriors. The literature of the world reeks with the war-spirit. It is a vast, prolific nursery of war-delusions, and does more than almost any one thing else to keep the demon in repute among civilized men. Go over the fields of literature; and at every step you tread among the scorpions of war, with every breath you inhale its delicious infection, and are met at every turn by its gilded, glorious, bewildering fascinations. You cannot escape the world-wide atmosphere of its delusions. The richest banquets of taste and intellect are strongly spiced with the spirit of war. The very nectar and ambrosia of ancient literature are steeped in it. The plague-spots are all over the noblest creations of genius. This moral gangrene cankers nearly all literature, and mars, more

or less the best specimens of ancient and modern poetry and eloquence, history and philosophy. Such are some of the influences that support


Christendom itself is full of them; and can we wonder that the custom still continues, and fattens on the very vitals even of civilized, Christian nations? Such influences must be swept away, or held in check, before this evil will ever cease from any portion of the world.



SOME persons deny the possibility of abolishing war, and tell us we might as well think to chain up the lightning, or hold down an earthquake. Such skepticism is neither new, nor peculiar to this cause. "How apt," says Dr. Rush, " are mankind to brand as visionary every proposition for innovation. There never was an improvement in any art or science, nor a proposal for meliorating the condition of man, in any age or country, that has not been considered as an Utopian scheme." The present methods of treating the small-pox, fevers, and other diseases, were at first viewed, not only with distrust, but absolute horror; and every one knows, that efforts in the cause of temperance, and for the abolition of the slave-trade, were for a time regarded as utterly visionary and hopeless. The use of the magnet in navigation, the application of steam to mechanical purposes, and a multitude of

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