WINN makes an unjust war, is a great gang.' Franklin's Phil. Papers, p 182. Dr. Prideaux, in his Connections, vol i, p. 489, has forcibly depicted the inexpressible mischief done to mankind, by mercenary poets and historians, who praise heroes or princes for conquering countries, thereby inciting others to imitate them. Blessed are the poor in spirit; for their's is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are the meek; for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are the peace-makers; for they shall be called the children of God. -JESUS CHRIST. The son of Man came not to destroy men's lives, but to save them.—Luke ix, 56. Why then do not preachers, who pretend to promulgate the doctrine of Christ, inveigh vigourously, in the name of God, against the ambition of potentates; against the sacrilegious laws of war; against the decoration of our churches, dedicated to mercy and charity, with banners won, by shedding the blood of nations? With what face of consistency can they give their benedictions to the standards around which our sanguinary soldiers assemble? Let them refuse their ministrations to every one who contributes toward the increase of human wretchedness. Let them make to the powers who would engage them to consecrate the the instruments of their politics, the reply which the priestess Theano made, to the people of Athens, when they endeavoured to persuade her to pronounce a malediction on the profane Alcibiades: "I am a priestess for the purpose of offering up prayers and imploring blessings; not for execrating and devoting to destruction."-St. Pierre's Works, vol iv, p. 264. I record, with great pleasure, that the Rev. R. Warner, a very accomplished clergyman of the established " english church, has had the boldness and virtue to espouse the cause of Christ, by preaching at St. James's Church, Bath, on May 25th, 1804, (being the day of the general fast,) a Sermon on the Inconsistency of War with Christianity. Published by Robinson, London. The following is an extract. Put up again thy sword, into it's place; for all they who take the sword, shall perish with the sword. -Matt. xxvi, 52. "However specious the sophistry may be, which stimulates nations to plunge into the horrors of warfare, or induces them to protract their hostilities against each other; however brilliant the successes are with which their arms shall be crowned; whatever acquisitions of territory conquest may unite to their ancient empire; whatever new triumphs shall swell their former fame, or victories enlarge the list of their` heroes; it may, notwithstanding, be considered as an incontrovertible axiom, (an axiom confirmed by the history of past ages, and the events of modern times; by the sad appearances of Christendom, and the rueful experience of ourselves,) that WAR is the GREATEST CURSE with which a nation can be afflicted; and that in comparison with the ills and sufferings, the dangers and distresses, the difficulties and privations, which it heaps upon the great mass of the society of a country, all it's imaginary present advantages, or future contingent benefits, are but as "dust in the balance," and as "chaff before the wind." "If we view this "foul fiend," as trenching apon the rights and claims of humanity; as obliterating, on the one hand, all the lovely charities of natural feeling, and dissipating, on the other, all the felicities of private life; we shall regard the scourge with increased disgust and confirmed abhorrence. Man, from the circumstances of his temporary being, subject inevitably to much evil, both physical and moral; dependent and helpless; entirely insufficient to his own defence and support; is furnished by his allmerciful Creator with principles which may remedy, in some degree, this imperfection of his nature, and provide for wants and deficiencies that solitary effort could not supply. He is made a social being; gifted with feelings which link him to his fellow-creatures in the chain of social harmony; and endowed with a broad benevolence, that includes the desire of reciprocating kindnesses with "all his brethren in the world." To the very root of this natural feeling War directs it's pernicious axe. It's existence depends upon the destruction of this principle. It commences with narrowing the sphere of philanthropy; in it's progress it freezes up all the genial charities of our nature; it's maturity is marked by the extinction of every liberal sentiment; and when it quits the land over which it has exercised it's malignant influence, it leaves the social character of the country barren of all that is amiable and virtuous, benevolent and humane. But still more distressing (because more personal) is the havock which war exercises on the happiness of private life. Here, no pen is able to describe, no mouth is competent to utter, the various forms of sorrow that mark it's presence, and pursue it's march. "Tho' the whole race of man be doomed to dissolution, and we are all hastening to our long home, yet at each successive moment, life and death seem to divide betwixt the dominion of mankind; and life to have the largest share. But it is otherwise in War. Death reigns here withouta rival, and without controul. War is the work, the element, or rather the sport and triumph of Death, who glories not only in the extent of his conquest, but in the richness of his spoil. In the other methods of attack; in the other forms which death assumes, the feeble and the aged, who at the best can live but a short time, are usually the victims; but here it is the vigorous and strong. It is remarked by the most ancient of poets, that in peace children bury their parents, but in war parents bury their children; nor is the difference small. Children lament their parents, sincerely indeed, but with that moderate and tranquil sorrow, which it is natural for those to feel, who are conscious of retaining many tender ties, and many animating objects. Parents mourn for their children with the bitterness of despair. The widowed mother loses, when she is deprived of her children, every thing but the capacity of suffering. Her heart withered and desolate, admits no other object, cherishes no other hope. It is Rachel weeping for her children, and refusing to be comforted, because they are not."-Hall's Reflect. on War. "Transport yourselves but in imagination, for one moment, into the field of battle; and into the wretched countries which are the theatre of war; and surely, if your hearts be not seared to all the impressions of mercy, loving-kindness, and compassion, they will weep tears of blood for the woes which ye will there see accumulated upon suffering humanity. Behold whole ranks of human beings stretched out upon the earth, maimed and mutilated, dying and dead. See peaceful villages reduced to heaps of ruins; fair cities wrapt in flames; and "fruitful lands made desolate." Listen to the mingled din of shouts and shrieks; the yell of the victor, the cry of the vanquished, the groans of the wounded, and the screams NNNNN of the violated. Contemplate, I conjure you, these horrible circumstances, and, if ye have not lost the feelings of nature, ye will lift up your hands and hearts in agonized petition to the MOST HIGH, to remove from weeping Christendom a monster bringing in it's train such unspeakable horrors. "Let it not be forgotten, however, that the influence of war is equally fatal to the morality, as to the happiness, of a country. The habits which a state of warfare necessarily introduces, into a nation, are every way unfavouable to virtue, and encouraging to vice. The authority of the laws, and the sanctions of equity, which peaceful times and a quiet order of things preserve in their strength and purity, are weak. ened, loosened, and too often overturned, when the military spirit has once seized upon the national char acter. The restraints which virtue and decency impose upon the conduct, it then becomes fashionable to neglect and despise. A large part of the community are necessarily withdrawn from their accustom. ed habits of industry, and their natural domestic relations, and transplanted into a new line of life, and a different set of connections; a life, whose tenour and leisure quickly sow in them the seeds of debauchery and vice; and connections, whose society as rapidly unfolds, matures, and brings these seeds to perfection. People of this description, mingling with the other classes of their fellow-citizens, impart to them also the blemishes which they themselves have acquired. Increasing communication produces wider contagion; immorality gradually enlarges her borders, till she obtains, at length, undivided dominion, and entirely obliterates from the national char acter all the becoming features of order, decency, and virtue. So much for the consequences produced |