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E. R. Es E N T E D TO THE Ll E R A R Y
UN | \/ ERSITY OF N/A || C H | GA N
W I LLIANM J. H C WA R D
1 N NA ENM o R Y O F HIS LATE w I FE, NM Rs. A N N i E
HAL LEck K E L s EY Ho WA R P, A G R A D UA TE
o F T H E LAw DE F A R T NA ENT,
C LA s S OF 1 88 O.
A P R L 8, 19 O 2 .


ºn phlet entitled: A solemn review of
Of Wºº. . .
SCCTT. J. War inconsistent
With the doºrine and
rom the Writings of , on war.
. Sketches on the horrors of war...
a onduct of the states.
tº AMINATIUM of the principles which are considered
to support the practice Wºº.
HAMCUCK. I. The principles of peace exemplified in
the conduct of the Soo. of
HISTORICA, illustr. of the origin & consequences of
-
Of
O
-
-
ºalſ.
lººkº, J. Reflections on the galamities of war.
GURNEY, J. J. An essay on war end on its lawfulness
under the Christian dispensation.
-
say on the doctrines & practice of
the early Christians as they relate to war.
f
-
riends, Ireland.
TK
11.6% .
GT
S b h-
Tract No. I. of the Society jor the Promotion of
Permanent and Universal Peace.
THE
SUBSTANCE OF A PAMPHLET,
A S (O L E MIN R E v. I Ew
CUSTOM OF WAR;
THAT WAR IS THE EFFECT OF POPULAR DELUSION,
AND
PROPOSING A REMIEDY.
sº
“By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.”
John xiii. 35.
“All they that take the sword shall perish with the sword.”—Matt. xxvi. 52.
STEREOTYPE EDITION.
3,0mtſon :
PRINTED BY R. CLAY, BREAD-STREET-HILL.
SOLD BY
HAM ILTON, ADAMS, & C O. PATER NO STER ROW ;
BY ALL OTHER BOOKSELLERS ; AND
AT THE DEPOSITORY, STAR COURT, BREAD STREET, cHEAPSIDE.
1832.
Price 2d.
The object of THE SOCIETY for the PROMOTION
of PERMAN ENT and UNIVERSAL PEACE, is to
print and circulate Tracts, and to diffuse information tend-
ing to shew that War is inconsistent with the spirit of
Christianity, and the true interests of mankind; and to
point out the means best calculated to maintain Permanent
and Universal Peace, upon the basis of Christian Principles.
Its labours are not limited by Local attachments, nor cir-
cumscribed by Geographical Boundaries, but eartend to the
whole human race.
Bob ERT MARS DEN, Esq. Chairman.
SAMUEL GURNEY, Esq. Treasurer.
Rev. JAMES HARGREAVES, Honorary Home Secretary.
Rev. Thom As WooD, Honorary Foreign Secretary.
Jo HN BEVANs, Assistant Secretary and Collector.
*...* It is requested that all Communications may be for-
warded to the respective Officers of the PEACE Soci ETY,
directed to the DEPositor Y, Star Court, Bread Street,
Cheapside.
A
SOLEMN REVIEW
—Q–
“Shall the snord devour for ever ?"
Wr regard with horror the custom of the ancient heathens, in
offering their children in sacrifice to idols. We are shocked with
the customs of the Hindoos, in prostrating themselves before the
car of an idol to be crushed to death; in burning women alive on
the funeral piles of their husbands; in offering a monthly sacrifice,
by casting living children into the Ganges to be drowned. We
read with astonishment of the sacrifices made in the Papal crusades,
and in the Mahometan and Hindoo pilgrimages. We wonder at
the blindness of Christian nations, who have esteemed it right and
honourable to buy and sell Africans as property, and reduce them
to bondage for life. But that which is fashionable and popular in
any country is esteemed right and honourable, whatever may be
its nature in the views of men better informed.
But while we look back, with a mixture of wonder, indigma-
tion, and pity, on many of the customs of former ages, are we
careful to inquire, whether some customs which we deem honour-
able, are not the effect of popular delusion ? and whether they will
not be so regarded by future generations? Is it not a fact, that
one of the most horrid customs of savage men, is now popular in
every nation in Christendom ? What custom of the most bar-
barous nations is more repugnant to the feelings of piety, huma-
nity, and justice, than that of deciding controversies between
nations by the edge of the sword, by powder and ball, or the point
of the bayonet 2 What other savage custom has occasioned half
the desolation and misery to the human race 7 And what, but
the grossest infatuation, could render such a custom popular
among rational beings?
When we consider how great a part of mankind have perished
by the hands of each other, and how large a portion of human
calamity has resulted from war; it surely cannot appear indif-
A 2
4.
ferent, whether this custom is or is not the effect of delusion.
Certainly there is no custom which deserves a more thorough ex-
amination, than that which has occasioned more slaughter and
misery, than all the other abominable customs of the heathen
world.
War has been so long fashionable amongst all nations, that its
enormity is but little regarded ; or when thought of at all, it is
usually considered as an evil necessary and unavoidable. But the
question to be considered is this—Cannot the state of society and
the views of civilized men be so changed as to abolish so barbarous
a custom, and render wars unnecessary and avoidable 7
If this question may be answered in the affirmative, then we
may hope that “the sword will not devour for ever.”
Some may be ready to exclaim, None but God can produce
such an effect as the abolition of war; and we must wait for the
millennial day. We admit that God only can produce the neces-
sary change in the state of society, and the views of men; but
God works by human agency and human means. God could have
produced such a change in the views of the British nation, as to
abolish the slave trade; yet the event was brought about by a long
course of persevering and honourable exertions of benevolent men.
When the thing was first proposed, it probably appeared to
the majority of the people, as an unavailing and chimerical pro-
ject. But God raised up powerful advocates, gave them the spirit
of perseverance, and finally crowned their efforts with glorious
success. Now, it is probable, thousands of people are wondering
how such an abominable traffic ever had existence in a nation
which had the least pretensions to Christianity or civilization. In
a similar manner God can put an end to war, and fill the world
with astonishment, that rational beings ever thought of such a
mode of settling controversies.
As to waiting for the millennium to put an end to war, with-
out any exertions on our own part, it is like the sinner's waiting
God's time for conversion, while he pursues his course of vice
and impiety. If ever there shall be a millennium, in which the
sword will cease to devour, it will probably be effected by the
blessing of God on the benevolent exertions of enlightened men.
Perhaps no one thing is now a greater obstacle in the way of the
wished for state of the church, than the spirit and custom of war
*
J
which is maintained by Christians themselves. Is it not then
time, that efforts should be made to enlighten the minds of Chris-
tians on a subject of such infinite importance to the happiness of the
human race 7
That such a state of things is desirable, no enlightened Chris-
tian can deny. That it can be produced without expensive and
persevering efforts is not imagined. But are not such efforts to
exclude the miseries of war from the world, as laudable as those
which have for their object the support of such a malignant and
desolating custom 7
The whole amount of property in the United States is pro-
bably of far less value, than what has been expended and destroyed
within two centuries by wars in Christendom. Suppose, then,
that one-fifth of this amount had been judiciously laid out by peace
associations in the different states and nations, in cultivating the
spirit and art of peace, and in exciting a just abhorrence of war;
would not the other four-fifths have been in a great measure
saved, besides many millions of lives, and an immense portion
of misery 2 Had the whole value of what has been expended in
wars, been appropriated to the purpose of peace, how laudable
would have been the appropriation and how blessed the conse-
quences !
“Shall the sword devour for ever ?”
In favour of war several pleas will probably be made.
First, some will plead that the Israelites were permitted, and
even commanded to make war on the inhabitants of Canaan. To
this it may be answered, that the Giver and Arbiter of life had a
right if he pleased, to make use of the savage customs of the age,
for punishing guilty nations. If any government of the present
day should receive a commission to make war as the Israelites
did, let the order be obeyed. But until they have such a commis-
sion, let it not be imagined that they can innocently make war.
As a further answer to this plea, we have to observe, that
God has given encouragement, that under the reign of the Messiah,
there shall be such a time of peace, “that nation shall not liſt up
sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.”
Micah iv. 3. If this prediction shall ever be fulfilled, “he present
6
delusion in favour of war must be done away. How then are we
to expect the way will be prepared for the accomplishment of the
prediction ? Probably this is not to be done by miraculous
agency, but by the blessing of God on the benevolent exertions
of individuals to open the eyes of their fellow-mortals, in respect
to the evils and delusions of war, and the blessings of peace.
Those who shall be the instruments of producing so important a
change in the views of men, will be in an eminent sense “peace-
makers,” and will be entitled to the appellation and privileges of
“the sons of God.” How much more glorious the achievement,
to conquer the prejudices and delusions of men on this subject by
kindness and reason, than to conquer the world by the edge of the
sword.
A second plea in favour of the custom of war may be this—
that war is an advantage to a nation, as it usually takes off many
vicious and dangerous characters. But does not war make two
such characters for every one it removes? Is it not in fact the
greatest school of depravity, and the greatest source of mischiev-
ous and dangerous characters that ever existed among men 2 Does
not a state of war lower down the standard of morality in a nation,
so that a vast portion of common vice is scarcely observed as evil :
Besides, is it not awful to think of sending vicious men be-
yond the means of reformation and the hope of repentance 2
When they are sent into the army, what is this but consigning
them to a state where they will rapidly fill up the measure of their
iniquity, and become “fitted to destruction ?”
Thirdly, It will be pleaded, that no substitute for war can be
devised, which will ensure to a nation a redress of wrongs. In
reply we may ask, Is it common for a nation to obtain a redress
of wrongs by war? As to redress, do not the wars of nations re-
semble boxing at a tavern, when both the combatants receive a
terrible bruising, then drink a mug of flip together and make
peace; each, however, bearing for a long time the marks of his
folly and madness? A redress of wrongs by war is so uncommon,
that unless revenge is redress, and multiplied injuries satisfaction,
we should suppose that none but madmen would run the hazard.
But if the eyes of people could be opened in regard to the evils
and delusions of war, would it not be easy to form a confederacy
of nations, and organize a high court of equity, to decide national
7
controversies : Why might not such a court be composed of some
of the most eminent characters from each nation? and a compli-
ance with the decision of the court be made a point of national
honour, to prevent the effusion of blood, and to preserve the
blessings of peace! Can any considerate person say, that the
probability of obtaining right in such a court, would be less than
by an appeal to arms? When an individual appeals to a court of
justice for the redress of wrongs, it is not always the case that he
obtains his right. Still such an appeal is more honourable, more
safe, and more certain, as well as more benevolent, than for the
individual to attempt to obtain redress by his pistol, or his sword.
And are not the reasons for avoiding an appeal to the sword, for
the redress of wrongs, always great in proportion to the cala-
mities, which such an appeal must naturally involve : If this be
a fact, then there is infinitely greater reason, why two nations
should avoid an appeal to arms, than usually exists against a
bloody combat between two contending individuals.
In the fourth place it may be urged, that a spirit of forbearance
on the part of a national government, would operate as an
invitation to repeated insult and aggression.
But is this plea founded on facts and experience 2 Does it
accord with what is well known of human nature? Who are the
persons in society that most frequently receive insult and abuse !
Are they the meek, the benevolent, and the forbearing 7 Do these
more commonly have reason to complain, than persons of quick
resentment, who are ready to fight on the least provocation ?
There are two sects of professed Christians in this country,
which, as sects, are peculiar in their opinions respecting the law-
fulness of war, and the right of repelling injury by violence.
These are the Quakers and the Shakers. They are remarkably
pacific. Now, we ask, does it appear, from experience, that
their forbearing spirit brings on them a greater portion of injury
and insult than what is experienced by people of other sects 2 Is
not the reverse of this true in fact? There may indeed be some
instances of such gross depravity, as a person's taking advantage
of their pacific character, to do them injury, with the hope of
impunity. But in general, it is believed, their pacific principles
and spirit command the esteem even of the vicious, and operate
as a shield from insult and abuse.
8
The question may be brought home to every society. How
seldom do children of a mild, forbearing temper, experience in-
sult or injury, compared with the waspish, who will sting if
touched ? The same inquiry may be made in respect to persons
of these opposite descriptions of every age, and in every situation
of life; and the result will be favourable to the point in question.
Should any deny the applicability of these examples to national
rulers, we have the pleasure of being able to produce one example.
which is undeniably applicable.
When William Penn took the Government of Pennsylvania, he
distinctly avowed to the Indians his forbearing and pacific princi-
ples, and his benevolent wishes for uninterrupted peace with them.
On these principles the government was administered, while it
remained in the hands of the Quakers. What then was the effect?
Did this pacific character in government invite aggression and
insult? Let the answer be given in the language of the Edinburgh
Review of the Life of William Penn. Speaking of the treaty made
by Penn with the Indians, the Reviewer says: -
“Such indeed was the spirit in which the negociation was
entered into, and the corresponding settlement conducted, that for
the space of more than seventy years—and so long indeed as the
Quakers retained the chief power in the government, the peace
and amity which had been thus solemnly promised and concluded,
never was violated; and a large though solitary example afforded,
of the facility with which they, who are really sincere and friendly
in their views, may live in harmony with those who are supposed
to be peculiarly fierce and faithless.”
Shall then this “solitary” but successful “example” never be
imitated 7 “Shall the sword devour for ever ?"
Some of the evils of war have already been mentioned, but the
field is almost boundless. The demoralizing and depraving effects of
war cannot be too seriously considered. We have heard much of the
corrupting tendency of some of the rites and customs of the heathen;
but what custom of the heathen nations had a greater effect in
depraving the human character, than the custom of war? What is
that feeling usually called a nar-spirit, but a deleterious compound
of enthusiastic ardour, ambition, malignity, and revenge! a com-
pound which as really endangers the soul of the possessor, as the
9
life of his enemy! Who, but a person deranged or deluded, would
think it safe to rush into the presence of his Judge with his heart
boiling with enmity, and his brother's blood dripping from his
hands ! Yet in time of war, how much pains is taken to excite and
maintain this blood-thirsty disposition, as essential to success 2
The profession of a soldier exposes him to sudden and untimely
death, and at the same time hardens his heart, and renders him
regardless of his final account. When a person goes into the army,
it is expected of him, that he will rise above the fear of death. In
doing this he too commonly rises above the fear of God, and all
serious concern for his soul. It is not denied that some men sus-
tain virtuous characters amidst the contaminating vapours of a
camp; and some may be reformed by a sense of the dangers to
which they are exposed; but these are uncommon occurrences.
The depravity occasioned by war, is not confined to the army.
Every species of vice gains ground in a nation during war. And
when a war is brought to a close, seldom, perhaps, does a commu-
nity return to its former standard of morals. In time of peace, vice
and irreligion generally retain the ground they acquired by a war.
As every war augments the amount of national depravity, so it
proportionably increases the dangers and miseries of society.”
Among the evils of war, a wanton undervaluing of human life
ought to be mentioned. This effect may appear in various forms.
* It has been suggested by a friend, that there is an exception to this ac-
count—That Great Britain has been engaged in war the greater part of the
time for a century, and that probably the moral and religious character of
the nation has been improved during this period.
Admitting the correctness of this statement, it amounts to no more than
one exception from a general rule ; and this one may be accounted for, on
the ground of singular facts.
1. The island of Great Britain has not been the seat of war, for a long
course of years. The wars of that nation have been carried on abroad; and
their army and navy have had little intercourse with the population at home.
This mode of warfare has tended to remove from their own country the
corrupting influence of military camps. Had their Island been the seat of war
for eighty years out of a hundred, the effects would, in a great measure, have
been reversed. But,
2. There have been within twenty years, singular efforts in that nation, which
have had a tendency to counteract the moral influence of war. Their Missi-
onary Societies, their Bible Societies, and a vast number of religious, moral,
and charitable institutions, must have had a powerful and favourable influence
on the character of the nation. By these and not by wars, the moral
state of the nation has been improved.
After all, we are perhaps not very adequate judges of the present de-
pravity in that nation. Their army and navy may still be considered in
estimating the amount of national depravity, as well as of population. Let
these return home, be disbanded, and mixed with the general mass of
citizens; what then would be the no ºral state of society in Great Britain 2
:
*
} 0
When a war is declared for the redress of some wrong, in regard
to property, if nothing but property be taken into consideration,
the result is not commonly better than spending five hundred dol-
lars in a law-suit, to recover a debt of ten. But when we come to
estimate human lives against dollars and cents, how are we con-
founded ! “All that a man hath will he give for his life.”
If by the custom of war rulers learn to undervalue the lives of
their own subjects, how much more do they undervalue the lives
of their enemies? As they learn to hear of the loss of five hundred,
or a thousand of their own men, with perhaps less feeling than
they would hear of the death of a favourite horse or dog; so they
learn to hear of the death of thousands after thousands on the side
of the enemy, with joy and exultation. If their own men have
succeeded in taking an unimportant fortress, or a frigate, with the
loss of fifty lives on their own side, and fifty-one on the other, this
is a matter of joy and triumph. This time they have got the game.
But, alas! at what expense to others' This expense, however,
does not interrupt the joy of war-makers. They leave it to the
wounded and the friends of the dead to feel and to mourn.
This dreadful depravity of feeling is not confined to rulers in
time of war. The army becomes abandoned to such depravity.
They learn to undervalue not only the lives of their enemies, but
even their own ; and will often wantonly rush into the arms of
death, for the sake of military glory. And more or less of the
same want of feeling, and the same undervaluing of human life,
extends through the nation in proportion to the frequency of
battles, and the duration of war.
If any thing be done by the army of one nation, which is deemed
by the other as contrary to the modern usages in war; how soon
do we hear the exclamation of Goths and Vandals / Yet what are
Christians at war, better than those barbarous tribes 7 And what
is the war-spirit in them, better than the spirit of Goths and
Vandals 2 When the war-spirit is excited, it is not always to be
circumscribed in its operations by the refinements of civilization.
It is at best a bloody and desolating spirit.
What is our boast of civilization, or christianization, while we
tolerate, as popular and justifiable, the most horrid custom which
ever resulted from human wickedness? Should a period arrive
when the nations “shall learn war no more,” what will prosperity
1 1
think of our claims, as Christians and civilized men 7 The custom,
of sacrificing men by war, may appear to them as the blackest of
all heathen superstitions. Its present popularity may appear as
wonderful to ages to come, as the past popularity of any ancient
custom now does to us. What! they may exclaim, could those be
Christians, who could sacrifice men by thousands to a point of
honour, falsely so called ; or to obtain a redress of a trifling wrong
in regard to property 7 If such were the customs of Christians,
what were they better than the heathens of their own time !
Perhaps some apologist may rise up in that day, and plead, that
it appears from the history of our times, that it was supposed neces-
sary to the safety of a nation, that its Government should be quick
to assume a warlike tone and attitude, upon every infringement of
their rights; that magnanimous forbearance was considered as
pusillanimity, and that Christian meekness was thought intolerable
in the character of a ruler.
To this others may reply—Could these professed Christians
imagine, that their safety depended on displaying a spirit the reverse
of their Masters ? Could they suppose such a temper best calcu-
lated to insure the protection of Him, who held their destiny in his
hands 7 Did they not know that wars were of a demoralizing ten-
dency, and that the greatest danger of a nation resulted from its
corruption and depravity ? Did they not also know, that a haughty
spirit of resentment in one government, was very sure to provoke a
similar spirit in another ? That one war usually paved the way for
a repetition of similar calamities, by depraving each of the contend-
ing parties, and by fixing enmities and jealousies, which would
be ready to break forth on the most frivolous occasions :
That we may obtain a still clearer view of the delusions of war,
let us look back to the origin of society. Suppose a family, like that
of Noah, to commence the settlement of a country. They multiply
into a number of distinct families. Then in the course of years
they become so numerous as to form distinct governments. In any
stage of their progress, unfortunate disputes might arise by the
imprudence, the avarice, or the ambition of individuals.
Now at what period would it be proper to introduce the custom
of deciding controversies by the edge of the sword, or an appeal to
12
arms ? Might this be done when the families had increased to ten ?
Who would not be shocked at the madness of introducing such a
custom under such circumstances 2 Might it then with more pro-
priety be done when the families had multiplied to fifty, or to a
hundred, or a thousand, or ten thousand 2 The greater the number,
the greater the danger, the greater the carnage and calamity.
Besides, what reason can be given, why this mode of deciding con-
troversies would not be as proper when there were but ten families,
as when there were ten thousand 7 And why might not two indivi-
duals thus decide disputes, as well as two nations?
Perhaps all will admit that the custom could not be honourably
introduced, until they separated, and formed two or more distinct
governments. But would this change of circumstances dissolve
their ties as brethren, and their obligations as accountable beings?
Would the organization of distinct governments confer a right on
rulers to appeal to arms for the settlement of controversies 7 Is it
not manifest, that no period can be assigned, at which the introduc-
tion of such a custom would not be absolute murder ? And shall a
custom which must have been murderous at its commencement, be
now upheld as necessary and honourable 7 -
But, says the objector, in determining the question, whether
war is now the effect of delusion, we must consider what mankind
are, and not what they would have been, had wars never been
introduced.
“To this we reply: We should consider both : and by what ought
to have been the state of society, we may discover the present delu-
sion, and the need of light and reformation. If it would have been
to the honour of the human race, had the custom of war never com-
menced, it must be desirable to dispel the present darkness, and
exterminate the desolating scourge. The same objection might
have been made to the proposition in the British Parliament for the
abolition of the Slave Trade ; the same may now be made against
any attempt to abolish the custom of human sacrifices among the
Hindoos ; yea, the same may be urged against every attempt to
root out pernicious and immoral customs of long standing.
Let it then be seriously considered, how abominably murderous
the custom must have been in its origin; how precarious the mode
of obtaining redress ; how often the aggressor is successful; how
small a part even of the successful nation is ever benefited by the
13
war; how a nation is almost uniformly impoverished by the con-
test; how many individuals are absolutely ruined as to property,
or morals, or both ; and what a multitude of fellow-creatures are
hurried into eternity in an untimely manner and an unprepared
state. And who can hesitate a moment, to denounce war as the
effect of popular delusion ?
Let every Christian seriously consider the malignant nature of
that spirit which war-makers evidently wish to excite, and compare
it with the temper of Jesus: and where is the Christian who would
not shudder at the thought of dying in the exercise of the common
war-spirit, and also at the thought of being the instrument of excit-
ing such a spirit in his fellow-men 7 Any custom which cannot be
supported but by exciting in men the very temper of the devil,
ought surely to be banished from the Christian world.
The impression that aggressive war is murderous, is general
among Christians, if not universal. The justness of the impression
seems to be admitted by almost every government in going to war.
For this reason each of two governments endeavours to fix on the
other the charge of aggression, and to assume to itself the ground of
defending some right, or avenging some wrong. Thus each excuses
itself, and charges the other with all the blood and misery which
result from the contest.
These facts, however, are so far from affording a plea in favour of
the custom of war, that they afford a weighty reason for its abolition.
If, in the view of conscience, the aggressor is a murderer, and an-
swerable for the blood shed in war; if one or the other must be
viewed by God as the aggressor; and if such is the delusion attend-
ing war, that each party is liable to consider the other as the
aggressor; surely there must be serious danger of a nation's being
involved in the guilt of murder, while they imagine they have a cause
which may be justified.
So prone are men to be blinded by their passions, their preju-
dices, and their interests, that in most private quarrels, each of
two individuals persuades himself that he is in the right, and his
neighbour in the wrong. Hence the propriety of arbitrations,
references, and appeals to courts of justice, that persons more dis-
interested may judge, and prevent that injustice and desolation,
which would result from deciding private disputes by single combats
or acts of violence.
14
But rulers of nations are as liable to be misled by their passions
and interests as other men; and when misled, they are very sure
to mislead those of their subjects who have confidence in their
wisdom and integrity. Hence it is highly important that the custom
of war should be abolished, and some other mode adopted, to settle
disputes between nations. In private disputes there may be cause
of complaint on each side, while neither has reason to shed the
blood of the other : much less to shed the blood of innocent family
connexions, neighbours and friends. So, of two nations, each may
have cause of complaint, while neither can be justified in making
war; and much less in shedding the blood of innocent people, who
have had no hand in giving the offence.
It is an awful feature in the character of war, and a strong reason
why it should not be countenanced, that it involves the innocent
with the guilty in calamities it inflicts; and often falls with the
greatest vengeance on those who have had no concern in the ma-
nagement of national affairs. It surely is not a crime to be born in
a country, which is afterwards invaded ; yet in how many instances
do war-makers punish, or destroy, for no other crime, than being a
native or resident of an invaded territory ! A mode of revenge or
redress, which makes no distinction between the innocent and
the guilty, ought to be discountenanced by every friend to justice
and humanity.
Besides, as the rulers of a nation are as liable as other people to
be governed by passion and prejudice, there is as little prospect of
justice in permitting war for the decision of national disputes, as
there would be in permitting an incensed individual to be, in his own
cause, complainant, witness, judge, jury, and executioner. In
what point of view, then, is war not to be regarded with horror?
“Shall the snord devour for ever ?”
That wars have been so overruled by God, as to be the occasion
of some benefits to mankind, will not be denied ; for the same
may be said of every fashion or custom that ever was popular
among men. War may have been the occasion of advancing useful
arts and sciences, and even of the spread of the gospel. But we
are not to do evil that good may come, nor to countenance evil
because God may overrule it for good.
15
One advantage of war, which has often been mentioned, is
this—It gives opportunity for the display of extraordinary talents,
of daring enterprise and intrepidity. But let robbery and piracy
become as popular as war has been, and will not these customs
give as great opportunity for the display of the same talents and
qualities of mind? Shall we therefore encourage robbery and
piracy Indeed it may be asked, do we not encourage these
crimes : For what is modern warfare but a popular, refined, and
legalized mode of robbery, piracy, and murder, preceded by a
proclamation, giving notice of the purpose of the war-maker 7 But
whether such a proclamation changes the character of the following
enormities, is a question to be decided at a higher court than that of
any earthly sovereign, and by a law superior to the law of nations.
The answer of a pirate to Alexander the Great was as just as
it was severe : “By what right,” said the King, “ do you infest
the seas 7” The pirate replied, “By the same that you infest the
universe. But because I do it in a small ship, I am called a
robber; and because you do the same acts with a great fleet, you
are called a conquerorſ"
Equally just was the language of the Scythian ambassadors to
the same deluded monarch : “Thou boastest, that the only design
of thy marches is to extirpate robbers. Thou thuself art the greatest
robber in the norld.”
May we then plead for the custom of war, because it produces
such mighty robbers as Alexander 7 Or if once in an age it should
produce such a character as Washington, will this make amends
for the slaughter of twenty millions of human beings, and all the
other concomitant evils of war !
If the characters of such men as Alexander had been held in
just abhorrence by mankind, this single circumstance would pro-
bably have saved many millions from untimely death. But the
celebrity which delusion has given to that desolating robber, and
the renown attached to his splendid crimes, have excited the am-
bition of others, in every succeeding age, and filled the world with
misery and blood.
Is it not then time for Christians to learn not to attach glory to
guilt, or to praise actions which God will condemn ! That Alex-
ander possessed talents worthy of admiration, will be admitted,
But when such talents are prostituted to the vile purposes of military
16
fame, by spreading destruction and misery through the world, a
character is formed which should be branded with everlasting
infamy. And nothing, perhaps, short of the commission of such
atrocious deeds, can more endanger the welfare of a community,
than the applause given to successful military desperadoes. Mur-
der and robbery are not the less criminal for being perpetrated by a
king, or a mighty warrior.
Dr. Prideaux states, that in fifty battles fought by Caesar, he
slew one million, one hundred and ninety-two thousand of his ene-
mies. If to this number we add the loss of troops on his own
side, and the slaughter of women and children on both sides, we
shall probably have a total of Two MILLIONs of human beings,
sacrificed to the ambition of one man!
If we assign an equal number to Alexander, and the same to
Napoleon, which we probably may do with justice, then to three
military butchers, we may ascribe the untimely death of six
MILLIONs of the human family: A number equal to the whole
population of the United States, in the year 1800. Is it not then
reasonable to believe that a greater number of human beings have
been slain by the murderous custom of war, than the whole amount
of the present population of the world? To what heathen deity
was there ever offered such a multitude of human sacrifices. as have
been offered to human ambition ?
Shall then the Christian world remain silent in regard to the
enormity of this custom, and even applaud the deeds of men who
were a curse to the age in which they lived ? men, whose talents
were employed, not in advancing the happiness of the human race,
but in spreading desolation and misery through the world! On the
same principle that such men were applauded, may we applaud
the chief of a band of robbers and pirates in proportion to his inge-
nuity, intrepidity, and address, in doing mischief. If the chief dis-
plays these energies of mind in a high degree in a successful course
of plundering and murder, then he is a “mighty hunter,
5
a man of
great renown.
But if we attach glory to such exploits, do we not encourage
others to adopt the same road to fame 7 Besides, would not such
applause betray a most depraved taste; a taste which makes no
proper distinction between virtue and vice, or doing good and
doing mischief; a taste to be captivated with the glare of bold
J7
exploits, but regardless of the end to which they were directed, the
means by which they were accomplished, the misery which they
occasioned to others, and the light in which they must be viewed
by a benevolent God 7
An important question now occurs. By what means is it possi-
ble to produce such a change in the state of society, and the views
of Christian nations, that every ruler shall feel that his honour,
safety, and happiness, depend on his displaying a pacific spirit, and
forbearing to engage in offensive wars? Is it not possible to form
powerful peace societies in every nation of Christendom, whose ob-
ject shall be, to support government and secure the nation from war?
In such societies we may hope to engage every true minister of
the Prince of Peace, and every Christian who possesses the temper
of his Master. In this number would be included a large portion
of important civil characters.
Having formed societies for this purpose, let the contributions
be liberal, in some measure corresponding with the magnitude and
importance of the object. Let these be judiciously appropriated
to the purpose of diffusing light, and the spirit of peace in every
direction, and for exciting a just abhorrence of war in every breast.
Let printing presses be established in sufficient numbers to fill
every land with newspapers, tracts, and periodical works, adapted
to the pacific design of the societies. Let these all be calculated
for the support and encouragement of good rulers, and for the cul-
tivation of a mild and pacific temper among every class of citizens.
The object would be so perfectly harmonious with the spirit,
the design, and the glory of the gospel, that it might be frequently
the subject of discussion in the pulpit; the subject of Sabbath and
every day conversation, and be introduced into our daily prayers
to God, whether in public or private. -
Another means of advancing the object deserves particular
consideration ; namely, early education. This grand object should
have a place in every plan of education, in families, common
schools, academies, and universities. - --
“Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is
old, he will not depart from it.” The power of education has been
tried, to make children of a ferocious, blood-thirsty character.
R
18
Let it now have a fair chance, to see what it will do towards
making mild, friendly and peaceful citizens.
As there is an aversion to war in the breast of a large majority
of people in every civilized community; and as its evils have been
recently felt in every Christian nation; is there not ground to
hope, that it would be as easy to excite a disposition for peace, as a
disposition for war 7 1ſ then peace societics should be formed, and
such means be put in operation, as have been suggested, is it not
very certain, that the most beneficial effects would result 7 Would
they not gradually produce an important change in the views and
state of society, and give a new character to Christian nations?
What institution or project would more naturally unite all pious
and virtuous men? And on what effort could we more reasonably
hope for the blessing of the God of Peace 2
Should prudent, vigorous, and well-conducted efforts be made,
in a century from this time, the nations of Christendom may con-
sider human sacrifices, made by war, in the same light they now
view the ancient sacrifices to Moloch ; or in the light of wanton
and deliberate murder. And such a change in the views of men
must conduce to the security and stability of human governments,
and to the felicity of the world. As soon as Christian nations are
impressed with the importance of this change, they may find access
to the Heathen. But while Christians indulge the custom of war,
which is in truth the very worst custom in the world, with what
face can they reprove the Heathen, or assume among them the
office of instructors ? “Physician, heal thyself.”
The Bible Societies already formed in various parts of the world,
must naturally, and even necessarily, aid the object now proposed.
Indeed the two objects are so congenial, that whatever promotes the
one will aid the other. The same may be said of all Missionary So-
cieties, and Societies for Propagating the Gospel. Should these all
cordially co-operate, they must form a most powerful association.
But our hopes and expectations are not limited here. The so-
cieties of Friends and Shakers will come in of course, and cordially
contribute to the glorious object. May we not also expect a ready
acquiescence from the particular churches of every denomination
in the land 7 and why may we not look to the various literary and
political societies, for aid in a plan which has the security, the
peace, and the happiness of the world for its object 7
19
That there are obstacles and objections to be encountered, we
cannot deny ; but it is confidently believed, that there are none
insurmountable; because God will aid in such a cause, and the
time is at hand, when this prediction shall be fulfilled.
As the object is not of a party nature, and as party distinctions
and party purposes have been excluded from the discussion, it is
hoped no objection will arise from the present state of political
parties in this country. The supposed delusion in respect to war,
is confined to no nation, nor to any particular sect in any country.
What has been said on the subject has not been designed for the
purpose of reproach against any class of men; but with a desire to
befriend and benefit all who have not examined the subject; and to
rouse Christians to one united and vigorous effort to bless the world
with peace.
An eloquent speech delivered by Mr. Wilberforce in the British
Parliament, in favour of propagating Christianity in India, with
a view to abolish human sacrifices in that country, contains some
observations, which, we hope, he will repeat in the same house on
the present subject;
“It was,” said he, “formerly my task to plead the cause of a
people whose woes affected every heart, and who were finally
rescued from the situation in which they groaned, by the abolition of
the slave trade. That cause was doubtless the cause of suffering
humanity; but I declare, that if we entirely exclude the considera-
tion of religion, humanity appears to me to be still more concerned
in the cause I am now pleading, than in that for which I was
formerly the advocate.”—“I, for my part, consider it as absolute
blasphemy to believe that that great Being, to whom we owe our
existence, has doomed so large a portion of mankind to remain for
ever in that state in which we see the natives of India at this day.
I am confident his providence has furnished remedies fitted to the
case, and I hold it to be our duty to apply them. And I am satis-
fied, that not only may this be safely attempted, but that its accom-
plishment will be, in the highest degree, beneficial.”
May God grant that this powerful advocate for “suffering hu-
manity” may have his heart fervently engaged for the abolition of
the nar trade. Here he may find a new and ample field for
the display of his piety, his philanthropy, and his eloquence. With
the greatest propriety he may state, that the miseries occasioned
20
by the universal custom of war, are far more dreadful, than those
occasioned by either of the limited customs, for the abolition of
which he has so honourably and successfully contended.
If it would be blasphemy to believe that God has doomed so
great a portion of his creatures as the natives of India, to remain
for ever the subjects of their present delusions respecting human
sacrifices; can it be less than blasphemy to believe that he has
doomed, not only all Christendom, but all the nations of the earth,
to be for ever so deluded, as to support the most desolating custom
which ever resulted from human depravity, or which ever afflicted
the race of Adam 2 Here, with sincerity, I can adopt the words
of Mr. Wilberforce—“I am confident that his providence has fur-
nished remedies fitted to the case; and I hold it to be our duty to
apply them.”
I have till now avoided the mention of our present war,” that
nothing should appear calculated to excite party feelings. But as
the present calamity is severely felt, I must be permitted to ex-
press my hope, that the affliction will favour the present object.
If our distresses may be the occasion of opening the eyes of this
people to see the delusions of war in general, and of exciting them
to suitable exertions to prevent a return of such calamity, an im-
portant benefit may result not only to posterity, but to the world,
For if suitable exertions should be made in this country, the influ-
ence will not be bounded by the Atlantic; it will cross the ocean,
and find its way into the Bible Societies, and other religious socie-
ties in Great Britain, and on the Continents of Europe, Asia, and
Africa. Nor will it be many years before it will find access to the
houses of legislation and the palaces of Kings.
Here Christians of every sect may find an object worthy of
their attention, and in which they may cordially unite. For this
object they may, with propriety, leave behind all party zeal and
party distinctions, and bury their animosities in one united effort,
to give peace to the world.
Let lawyers, politicians and divines, and men of every class,
who can write or speak, consecrate their talents to the diffusion
of light, and love, and peace. Should there be an effort, such as
the object demands, God will grant his blessing, prosperity will be
grateful, heaven will be filled with joy and praise, and “the sword
shall not devour for ever.” &
• The “Solemn Review” was first printed in America, in the year 1914.
2
Let not the universality of the custom be regarded as an objection
to making the attempt. If the custom be wicked and destructive,
the more universal, the more important, is the reformation. If
war is ever to be set aside, an effort must some time be made; and
why not now as well as at any future day ? What objection can now
be stated, which may not be brought forward at any after period 2
If men must have objects for the display of heroism, let their in-
trepidity be shewn in firmly meeting the formidable prejudices of a
world in favour of war. Here is an opportunity for the display of
such heroism as will occasion no remorse on a dying bed, and such
as God will approve at the final reckoning. In this cause, ardent
zeal, genuine patriotism, undaunted fortitude, the spirit of enterprise
and every quality of mind worthy of a hero, may be gloriously dis-
played. Who ever displayed a more heroic spirit than Saint
Paul ? For such heroism and love of country as he displayed, the
object now proposed will open the most ample field at home and
abroad.
That there is nothing in the nature of mankind, which renders
war necessary and unavoidable—nothing which inclines them to it
which may not be overcome by the power of education, may ap-
pear from what is discoverable in the two sects already mentioned.
The Quakers and Shakers” are of the same nature with other
people, “men of like passions” with those who uphold the custom
of war. All the difference between them and others results from
education and habit. The principles of their teachers are diffused
through their societies, impressed on the minds of old and young;
and an aversion to war and violence is excited, which becomes ha-
bitual, and has a governing influence in their hearts, their passions
and their lives.
If then it has been proved to be possible, by the force of educa-
tion, to produce such an aversion to war, that people will not even
defend their own lives by acts of violence; shall it be thought im-
possible by similar means, to destroy the popularity of offensive
war, and exclude the deadly custom from the abodes of men 7
The following things will perhaps be generally admitted ; that
the christian religion has abolished the practice of enslaving cap-
tives, and in several respects mitigated the evils of war, by intro-
* To these may be added the denomination of Moravians, whose scruples
against war have been kindly regarded by the British Government.
22
ducing milder usages; that if the temper of our Saviour should
universally prevail among men, wars must cease to the ends of the
earth; that the scriptures give reason to hope that such a time of
peace will result from the influence of the Christian religion.
If these views and expectations are well founded, does it not
follow of course, that the spirit and custom of war is directly op-
posed to the principles and spirit of the gospel; that in proportion
as the gospel has its proper effect on the minds of men, an aversion
to war must be excited; and that it is the duty of every Christian to
do all in his power to bring the custom into disrepute, and to effect
its abolition
Can it be consistent with due regard to the gospel, for Christians
to hold their peace, while they see a custom prevailing, which
annually sweeps off myriads of their brethren, hurrying them into
eternity by violence and murder ? Can they forbear to exert them-
selves to put an end to this voluntary plague 2 Can we feel a con-
viction that war is in its nature opposed to the principles and spirit
of our religion, and that it is the purpose of God to put an end to
this scourge by the influence of the gospel; and still sleep on without
any effort to produce the effect which we believe is intended by our
heavenly Father ?
If the Christian religion is to put an end to war, it must be by the
efforts of those who are under its influence. So long, therefore, as
Christians acquiesce in the custom, the desirable event will be delayed.
Christianity itself is not a powerful intelligent agent. It is neither
a God, an angel, nor a man. It is only a system of divine instruc-
tions relating to duty and happiness : to be used by men for their
own benefit, the benefit of each other, and the honour of its Author.
Like all other instructions, they are of no use any further than they
are regarded and reduced to practice.
In what way then is it possible that Christianity should put an
end to war, but by enlightening the minds of men as to the evil of
the custom, and exciting them to an opposite course of conduct 7
Is it possible that the custom of war should be abolished by the in-
fluence of religion, while Christians themselves are its advocates ?
If God has appointed that men shall be saved by the preaching
of the gospel, the gospel must be preached, or the end will never be
accomplished. So if he has appointed that by the same gospel this
world shall be delivered from war, this also must be effected by
23
similar means. The tendency of the gospel to this effect must be
illustrated and enforced; its opposition to war must be displayed
in the lives of Christians; and men must be influenced by gospel
motives to cease from destroying one another. -
There are other effects which we expect will be produced by
Christianity, namely, the abolition of heathen idolatry, and the
various modes of offering human sacrifices. But how are these
events to be brought about 7 Do we expect that our Bibles will
spread their covers for wings, fly through the world, and convert the
nations without the agency of Christians ? should we expect the
gospel would ever convert the heathen from their idolatry, if those
who profess to be its friends, should themselves generally encou-
rage idolaters in their present courses, by a compliance with their
customs ? Such expectations would be just as reasonable, as to
expect the gospel will occasion wars to cease, without the exertions
of Christians, and while they countenance the custom by their own
examples.
It will, perhaps, be pleaded, that mankind are not yet suffi-
ciently enlightened to apply the principles of the gospel for the
abolition of war: and that we must wait for a more improved
state of society. Improved in nhat ? In the science of blood? Are
such improvements to prepare the way for peace : Why not wait
a few centuries, until the natives of India become more improved
in their idolatrous customs, before we attempt to convert them to
Christianity ? Do we expect that by continuing in the practice of
idolatry, their minds will be prepared to receive the gospel? If
not, let us be consistent, and while we use means for the conver-
sion of heathens, let means also be used for the conversion of
Christians. For war is, in fact, a heathenish and savage custom,
of the most malignant, most desolating, and most horrible character.
It is the greatest curse, and results from the grossest delusions that
ever afflicted a guilty world.
NOTE.
After the preceding pages were chiefly in type, I saw, for the first time,
“The COMPLAINT OF PEACE,” and “ANTIPOLEMUS,” written by
Erasmus. The coincidence of opinions and remarks must strike every reader
who shall compare the writings of Erasmus with this Review. He will
however, also perceive a disparity of eloquence not much to the honour of
the latter. But should the Review be only the occasion of exciting Chris-
24
tians to read the more important work of Erasmus, my labour will neither
be in vain, nor regretted. In his discussion of the subject, there is a dis-
play of reason, religion and eloquence, calculated to convince every mind
which is not strongly fortified by the delusions of prejudice, and to interest
every heart which is less hardened than Pharaoh's. It is indeed astonishing
that even popish prejudices could resist the force of his reasoning against
the custom of war. As a specimen of his spirit and style, we quote the
following passages, in reference to the custom of using the symbol of the
Cross for a standard, partaking of the Lord's Supper before going to battle,
and saying the Lord's Prayer.
“The absurdest circumstance of all those respecting the use of the
CROSS, as a standard is, that you see it glittering and waving high in air,
in both the contending armies at once. Divine service is performed to the
same Christ in both armies at the same time. What a shocking sight! Lo!
CROSSES dashing against CROSSES, and CHRIST on this side firing
bullets at CHRIST on the other; Cross against Cross, and Christ against
Christ!” He adds,
“Let us now imagine we hear a soldier among these fighting Christians
saying the Lord's Prayer. “OUR FATHER,” says he O hardened
wretch! can you call HIM Father, when you are just going to cut your
brother's throat? “ Hallowed be thy name.” How can the name of God be
more impiously unhallowed, than by mutual bloody murder among you, his
sons? “ Thy kingdom come.” Do you pray for the coming of his kingdom,
while you are endeavouring to establish an earthly despotism, by the spilling
of the blood of God's sons and subjects! “Thy will be done on earth as it
is in heaven.” His will in heaven is for PEACE, but you are now meditating
WAR. Dare you say to your Father in heaven “Give us this day our daily
bread,” when you are going the next minute to burn your brother's cornfields,
and had rather lose the benefits of them yourself than suffer him to enjoy
them unmolested? With what face can you say, “Forgive us our trespasses
as we forgive those who trespass against us,” when so far from forgiving your
brother, you are going with all the haste you can, to murder him in cold blood
for an alleged trespass, which, after all, is but imaginary 7 Do you presume
to deprecate danger of “temptation,” who, not without great danger to your-
self, are doing all you can to force your brother into danger? Do you
deserve to be delivered from evil, that is, from the evil being to whose impulse
you submit yourself, and by whose spirit you are guided, in contriving the
greatest possible evil to your brother ?”
R. Clay, Printer, 7, Bread Street Hill, Cheapside.
Tract No. II. of the Soviety for the Promotion of
Permanent and Universal Peace.
W A. R.
IN CONSISTENT WITH THE
D O C T R IN E A N D E X A M P L E
JESUS CHRIST.
* * ºne ºr ºr
IN A LE T'TER TO A FRIEND.
dº ſº ºvº º ºsº
RECO M MENDED TO THE PERU SAL OF THE TROFESSORS OF CHRISTIANITY,
“Follow peace with all men.”
“Forgive your enemies, do good to them that hate you.”
* My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would
nly servants fight.” N tº w Test.
ſº -
• *. * ** - -
. . . . . .
By J. Scott.
STEREOTYPE EDITION.
39.0ttiyo1t :
PRINTED BY R. cf. A Y, Br EA D-St REET-H II. I. ;
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The object of THE SOCIETY for the PROMOTION
of PERMANENT and UNIVERSAL PEACE, is to
print and circulate Tracts, and to diffuse information tend-
ing to shew that War is inconsistent with the spirit of
Christianity, and the true interests of mankind; and to
point out the means best calculated to maintain Permanent
and Universal Peace, upon the basis of Christian Principles.
Its labours are not limited by Local attachments, nor cir-
cumscribed by Geographical Boundaries, but extend to the
whole human race.
ROBERT MAR3DEN, Esq. Chairman.
JoHN Scott, Esq. Treasurer.
Rev. JAMES HARG REAves, Honorary Home Secretary.
Rev. THOMAS WooD, Honorary Foreign Secretary.
Jo HN BEVANS, Assistant Secretary and Collector.
*** It is requested that all Communications may be for-
warded to the respective Officers of the PEACE SocIETY,
directed to the DE POSITORY, Star Court, Bread Street,
Cheapside.
This tract was written to a friend more than 20 years ago, without any intention of
publication. It was, however, shewn to a bookseller without the knowledge of the
writer; this produced an application to have it printed, which was agreed to in 1796,
and two editions were struck off. It afterwards travelled both to Stockholm, where it
was translated and printed, and to Philadelphia, or New York, where it is said also to
have been reprinted. It is now” given by the writer to the “Society for the Promotion
of Permanent and Universal Peace,” with a hope that the sentiments it contains may
shortly spread, and communicate those blessings to mankind which the Bible encourages
us to expect will visit the world in the latter days. J. S
* 1819.
W A. R.
INIMIC A. L T O C H R IS TIANITY.
DEAR SIR,
WHEN I saw you lately, you may remember a part of our conver-
sation turned on war—and perhaps you thought me singular in
some of my sentiments, as controverting the received opinion of
men in general. I have therefore devoted an hour or two to state
further to you my particular views on this subject.
It is really astonishing to observe with how much composure
mankind, and many persons, acknowledged to be among the best
men living, admit the propriety of war; and while they in general
terms deplore the misery of it, maintain its necessity in some
shape or other; for the most part, in that of defence ; under this
mask, the great adversary of men has so imposed on them, that
they do not even think of discussing the lawfulness of war in any
case, though they profess to act on christian principles. For my
own part, I cannot help wishing to see it become a subject of
universal discussion, till the renunciation of the tenet shall spread
itself as wide as the misery it has produced.
War, however dreadful in its progress, and awful in its con-
sequences, has always been pleaded for as necessary. Time would
be lost in endeavouring to prove, what scarcely any one will deny,
namely, “the unlawfulness of offensive wars,” even on moral,
much less on Christian principles. The most thorough-paced
politician, to the existence of whose power and dominion war is
necessary, will always produce acts of aggression on the part of his
adversaries, and justify his measures as defensive, on the ground
of necessity. How liable such reasoning is to objection, will be
evident, when it is considered, that under this plea, the most
ambitious and arbitrary tyrants have justified their vilest atrocities;
B 2
4
and if war be convenient, and promise a partial gain, an argument
in justification will always be too readily found, although one cer-
tain consequence of war is a “general loss”—the gain only accruing
to an inconsiderable number of individuals.
In these sentiments, then, I have not merely to contend with men
who oppose all the order of society, by committing depredation
and offence universally; but with those also who interweave the
system of bloodshed with the profession of Christianity.
And here it is necessary to observe, that all war, even admitting
an aggression, goes on the principle of rendering evil for evil. And
how difficult is it, even politically, to decide where the aggression
begins, or how one nation possesses a right to call in question
what to another nation seems an equal right of theirs; — yet
in questions of this kind frequently originate the most bloody,
destructive, and unnatural wars. And even admitting the case to
be clearly made out, how often does the retaliation of the injured
party exceed the offence In which case, in a moral point of
view, they certainly change ground, and the original aggressors
become the injured party. Many instances of this kind might be
stated, but I shall name one only — the late contest between
Great Britain and America. America had chartered rights, which
she supposed were infringed by the parent state — she remon-
strated and petitioned — the parent state resisted, and refused
her demands.—America resisted again.-Great Britain exercised
coercion, and sent over an army — America raised a counter
army to defend her rights, and was finally successful. And yet
how often in that contest did the parties change ground, and each
act offensively as well as defensively 7 And who can state pre-
cisely where the act of aggression began, or where retaliation
ought to have ceased ? Indeed the subject seems involved in all
this intricacy and these evil consequences, as if, by a special
intervention of Providence, the rash steps of man should be
restrained from going to the extreme bounds of right, lest they
should overleap those bounds, and enter upon the territory of
wrong. In some cases the right will seem more clear; and per-
haps on certain principles, may be made out ; but as the question
is, not whether morality, but whether Christianity allow of war
on such occasions, I am bound no further than to the conside-
sº
5
ration of the latter part of the question. I therefore state the fol-
lowing proposition, as a truth intimately connected with the nature
of Christianity, and as a sentiment which will finally prevail.
That War in every shape, is incompatible mith the nature of Chris-
tianity; and that no persons professing that religion, and under the
full and proper influence of the temper and mind of Christ, can adopt,
pursue, or plead for it.
My proof is very short and very plain, and will take up much
less time than answering the objections invented by the sophistry
of men.
For this proof I refer to the clear, direct, and unequivocal com-
mands of Christ and his apostles. Christ, in those admirable
precepts of christian doctrine taught by him on the Mount,
Matt. ch. v. ver. 38, and 39, says, “Ye have heard that it hath
“been said, an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth; but I say
“unto you, that ye resist not evil; but whosoever shall smite thee
“on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.” Here then
Christ inculcates on all Christians the principles of non-resist-
ance, and forbids every kind of retaliation. And I beg leave to
produce this text as a full answer to those persons who urge
the example of the Jewish polity, or of Jewish characters as an
argument to justify CHRISTIANs in making war, in seeking for
retaliation, and in taking revenge. If they will be at the trouble
of looking at the text, they will observe that the Jewish dispensa-
tion is changed, and that by the Christian Legislator himself—and
HE has confirmed the doctrine by his own example. After so pointed
and absolute a removal of the old dispensation, to make way for
the new ; namely, for the christian dispensation, (a dispensation of
life and peace,) how any man can justify war, and at the same time
profess to act on christian principles, is, I confess, to me a mystery
beyond my penetration to understand.
In the same chapter our Saviour goes on to teach his disciples,
not only the negative virtue of forbearance, but the positive duty
of love, of loving their enemies, and of returning every possible
good in their power for every possible injury they could receive :
and he urges this doctrine on this principle, “that ye may be the
“children of your Father which is in heaven ; for he maketh
“his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain
6
“on the just and on the unjust ;” and then he makes the excel-
lency of his doctrines to consist in their superior effects, and
their tendency to make his disciples more than other men. See
ver. 46, 47, 48.
I know these doctrines are admitted by many, when applied
only to individuals, or to Christians in their individual capacity, but
are denied by them when applied to professing christian states or
political bodies; but by what authority is the sense restrained or
applied in this particular way ? I conceive, not by the authority
of Christ, and I know of no other authority competent to establish
such a restriction. Nay, it is said expressly, that no scripture is
of private (mere private) interpretation: and it may fairly be in-
ferred, that if individuals are bound to act up to certain principles,
if they profess themselves christian, societies, under the same pro-
fession, are subject to the same rules; and if they transgress, will
have to answer the trespass as transgressors of the command of
Christ. The too common and well-known distinction between po-
litical and moral right; or, in other words, between political expe-
dience and christian duty, is a distinction dangerous in the extreme:
it is not founded in truth, and is of a most pernicious tendency to
morality in general. On this principle, political bargains are often
made for convenience, and for convenience are as often broken; but
our judgment must surely be grossly imposed upon before we can
admit such sentiments.
Of a similar character are the precepts taught by the apostles, “If
thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink; for in
so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head.” Rom. xii. 20.
If it be objected,” that the concluding part of this expression
conveys the highest and most effectual idea of retaliation, they who
suppose so, certainly mistake the sense, which will be quite plain,
if we consult the subsequent verse. “Be not overcome of evil,
but overcome evil with good.” Now I would ask, admitting
* Macknight observes, “The metaphor is supposed to be taken from the
melting of metals by covering them with burning coals; thus understood, the
meaning will be, in so doing, thou shalt mollify thine enemy and bring him to
a good temper. This no doubt is the best method of treating enemies; for it
belongs to God to punish the injurious, but to the injured to overcome them by
returning good for evil.” See also Dr. Guyse and Pool's comments on the
place.
7
this practice of returning good for evil, How can the principle
of WAR between christian states be supported for a moment 2 It
is only in the absence of every christian doctrine, and every
humane feeling, that such a supposition can be admitted.
We are commanded by Peter, as Christians, to render, “not
evil for evil, or railing for railing; but contrariwise blessing,"
(1 Pet. iii. 9.) and this conduct is urged from a consideration of
what we ourselves are called to partake, namely, “a blessing;”
and if we profess to love our neighbour as ourselves, even on that
principle, we should seek the welfare of all the human race, who,
as our brethren by mature, claim all that love. It is unne-
cessary to make any further comment, or to quote a multi-
tude of other passages: let the Scriptures be read, give them all
their scope, and the voice of impartiality and sound sense, as well
as the voice of religion, of piety, of humanity, will unite in declaring
that their meaning must be perverted, to make them breathe any
thing else than love and peace, good-will and harmony to the sons of
men: indeed if they breathe not these, they breathe nothing. I
shall forbear further proof on behalf of my proposition: for who-
ever remains undecided with the evidence already produced, will
not be persuaded though one rose from the dead.
Hence I infer, that Christians are not at liberty to fight;
and if the States, under which they live, require of them this
service, they ought to be willing to suffer for refusing to bear
arms, rather than to sin against the command of Christ; though
men of courage (and none possess so much courage as good
men), yet their courage cannot, on the christian principle, be
evinced as Soldiers, but rather as Martyrs; and although, from
what has been said, it may be easily seen that my sentiments in-
volve those of non-resistance to Civil Authorities, yet I am for
obedience to them, no further than a man can justify it to his
conscience in the sight of God; further than that, no power on
earth can be just in exacting obedience; further than that, no true
follower of the Saviour can be just in yielding it. If governments
dispose even of the civil rights and privileges of their subjects, and
barter them away, a Christian ought not ; though he is not justified
in contending for them by force—such conduct being forbidden by
Christ. Submission is enjoined to civil laws, imposts, taxes,
8
and customs; but when governments interfere with the religious
rights of subjects, and dare to bind the consciences of men, then
Christians are called upon to endure any sufferings, rather than, by
submission to the laws of men, to violate their higher and supreme
obligations to the eternal God. But in this resistence it is to be
observed, the weapons of their warfare are not carnal; the kingdom
of Christ is not to be promoted by his disciples spreading, far and
wide, bloodshed, confusion, and carnage; but by an invincible adhe-
rence to his doctrines and example, and by a resistance even unto
blood; so striving against sin, that their enemies may be persuaded,
by their constancy, of the power and excellence of those principles
which subject the professors of them to the greatest sufferings,
rather than allow them to commit the least evil.
But if war, either foreign or civil, were a justifiable measure,
we shall no doubt find a justification of it from some examples, left
on record in the Bible, for our direction in this important case ; and
therefore the Jewish polity, which, in its commencement and pro-
gress, was supported by wars of God's own command, is adduced
in support of it.
In reply to this argument, I refer to what has been already stated
as to Christ's having abolished the Jewish dispensation. The
commands of God, alluded to, applied only to the Jews; theirs was
a government of this world; the government of Christ is not so:
that was a temporal constitution; the constitution of Christ's govern-
ment is spiritual. Hence, says he, “My kingdom is not of this
world: if my kingdom were of this world, then mould my servants
fight,” John xviii. 36. Nor does the example of Abraham, David,
and other good men, under the former dispensation, afford better
argument; some things were permitted to them which are totally
inconsistent with the christian economy—for instance, polygamy
and divorce, which our Saviour says were only suffered in those
times of ignorance, in condescension to their comparatively small
degree of light, to the infirmities of men, or the hardness of their
hearts.
If, then, we as Christians cannot find a ground for this argu-
ment in favour of War in the conduct of the Jews, or in the
examples of its greatest champions, let us go to Christ: here
we shall surely fail, our enemies themselves being judges; nothing
9
of resistance—nothing of retaliation or revenge—of force opposed
to force—is in Christ Jesus—all is submission, humility, and love.
But, say some, he assumed this character that he might fulfil the
law for our sakes : he suffered all this for us; and it behoved him
to do so in the character of Mediator which he sustained; we know
that “he was led as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep be-
“fore his shearers, he was dumb and opened not his mouth :" but
we are not to be so vain as to conceive that every part of Christ's
character is imitable by us. True; but if he assumed that cha-
racter that he might fulfil the law for us, it proves that we had
been transgressors of that law. Now let me ask, shall we, because
he did thus, continue transgressors, and reward his love by con-
tinued acts of rebellion ? If our religion teach us this, I cease
to wonder that we pursue war, or other evil practices; and
know, O vain man that however readily we admit what Jesus
Christ did as Mediator, if we exclude his example, we have neither
part nor lot in his salvation ; and if we imitate not the latter, we
possess no proof of participating in the former. But a scripture quo-
tation shall close this part of the subject: “Christ also suffered for
us, leaving us an example that ye should follow his steps ; who did
no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth. Who, when he was
reviled, reviled not again; when he suffered, he threatened not;
but committed himself to him that judgeth righteously.” (1 Pet.
ch. ii. ver. 21, 22, 23.) Here his mediation and example are united,
and what God has joined let no man put asunder. I cannot with
equal pleasure refer to the character of the professing christian
monarchs, emperors, and kings of the earth, but their example
is not of sufficient authority to support and justify the system
of war. I see them so involved in the temper, the spirit,
the views, and politics of this world, as to forego the temper,
mind, and spirit of Christ : and although much is said of the
establishment of Christianity by human laws, it is my humble
belief, that true Christianity owes not its support to any such aids,
but is superior to every such thing as the policy, the institutions,
or laws of mem. They may derive much advantage from it, if
truth be admitted into their councils; but it will not derive much
advantage from them. This subject is too copious to dilate upon ;
however, as the Emperor Constantine is the great champion
10
of these human defenders, he shall pass in review. I shall con-
tent myself with noticing those striking particulars in his con-
duct, which have led many to appeal to his example on this
point. “Constantine,” we are informed, “had observed the
fatal miscarriages of the emperors, his predecessors, who had
reposed confidence in the assistance of a multitude of gods; and
whose wars, notwithstanding their zeal, had been generally unpros-
perous, and their ends unfortunate and untimely. On the other
hand, he had observed that his father, who acknowledged one
only supreme God and Governor of the World, had been gene-
rally prosperous. This determined him to choose this God, to
whom he prayed to have him made known to himself, and that
he would aid him in his then intended warlike expedition. He
accordingly received a remarkable answer to his prayer, and
saw a vision in the heavens—a pillar of light in the fashion of
a cross, with a Greek inscription, In this overcome. This was
at first matter of surprise and doubt; but in the night following,
the Saviour appeared to him in a vision, with the cross in his
hand, which he had shewed him the day before, commanding
him to make a royal standard like it, and to cause it to be carried
before him in his wars, as a token or ensign both of victory
and safety.” This was commission enough to an ambitious man,
already near the zenith of power, and aiming at the pinnacle of
grandeur, honour, and success. This, like other accidental events,
or fictitious stories, wrought on the minds of his soldiers, and
they only wanted to be led on to obtain victory; fired with the fury
of men in a crusade, they were irresistible. The emperor at the
same time professing Christianity, it became the prevailing religion
of the times; but, it is to be feared, less from conviction than from
the fashion or custom ; and, where it was not professed, force
often supplied the place of conviction or better argument; and in
the same way, nations have frequently since been baptized with
the dagger at their throats, to increase its reputed converts.
Two or three short remarks on this extraordinary anecdote will
be needful. First, is it compatible with the general tenor of
scripture to admit, or even to suppose, that, after Christ had finished
his work of peace and good-will to men; and had told his
followers, that his kingdom was not of this world; he would, three
11
hundred years after, appear, and even descend from heaven, to
encourage the sanguinary operations of the sword; and after having
In the foregoing centuries, suffered his gospel to rise and prosper
by persecutions, by trials, by afflictions; and taught his disciples
the doctrine of humility, submission, obedience, and self-denial, he
should turn the tables on his enemies, and authorize men, who
were Christian in little else than the name, to go forth and slaughter
their opposers? This appears so gross a contradiction of the prin-
ciples of Scripture, and of the spirit of Christ, that the under-
standing revolts at the idea, and cannot, for a moment, admit it.
In the next place, if we review the state of Christianity itself at
that period, many errors had crept into the church; lax in its dis-
cipline, divided in its doctrines and opinions, error had made
great progress; and even in some of the men who stood foremost
among the advocates of Christ in that day, we meet with many
ridiculous, inconsistent, and immoral facts; indeed the purity of
the gospel was far corrupted, and in that baleful hour religion was
first made the engine of state policy, and then the church, or, at
least, men professing to be members of it, were hired for a standing
army. For these reasons, I cannot but think, that this story of
Constantine is a mere figment, invented to serve a particular turn,
and which, from the fatal credit it has gained, has imposed on
millions who bear the christian name.
If history and facts were to be adduced, there might be many
instances brought forward where Christians, impelled by a true
spirit, have, in the total renunciation of war, been defended from
their enemies, and preserved an honour to their profession. The
Quakers, at this day, are living witnesses of the truth of this
remark; as are also the Moravians.
The submission of acknowledged good men to the practice of
war, will, on investigation, be found equally nugatory to the sup-
port of the error. I admit good men have defended the principle,
but they did it as patriots, not as Christians—as lovers of their
country, not as the followers of Christ. Others have gone into the
practice, and yet seemed to carry the habits of piety about them;
but it appears to me as a defect and imperfection in that character,
which, in other respects, might be allowed to be good. For how
does it sink our ideas of exalted piety, and of the spirit and mind
12
of Christ residing in a heart, which is ready at the next hour, if
it be so ordered, to devise and scatter death and destruction
all around! Peter was a good man, but although his intentions
were good, he sometimes failed in practice. In the spirit of re-
taliation and human affection towards his Master, he drew his
sword and cut off an enemy's ear ; and did he obtain commen-
dation ?–No: “Put up thy sword,” said the meek Saviour, “for
all they that take the sword shall perish by the sword:” and how
well this prediction has been verified, let matter of fact declare.
On the wuole, the providence of God seems to have permitted
this evil, and borne with the manners of men, and especially of
some who are acknowledged to be good men in the main, in the
same way in which he allowed polygamy and divorce under the
Old Testament; namely, because of the hardness of men's hearts,
and of the darkness of the times. But that such practices should
now be followed on this account, is as unreasonable as to suppose,
that the duplicity of Jacob, and the sins of David, form an apology
for our imitation of their crimes.
I have sometimes given scope to my imagination, and fancied
myself engaged in war, in the defence of the best cause for which
the sword was ever drawn—civil liberty, and the deliverance of the
oppressed from the hand of tyranny ; and have, for the moment,
supposed it to be lawful ; I have anticipated the sound of the trum-
pet leading on to the charge, snd then have plunged amidst the
roaring of cannon, or the clangor of arms in the heat of action—
either leading on or led, my bosom swelling with the importance of
the cause, my heart beating high, I looked on death with defiance,
and on my foes with disdain, determining to conquer or perish in
the attempt. All fresh from this bloody scene, I have brought my
temper, my bosom, my heart, to the great Exemplar of Christian
perfection, and shame has covered me.—What trait of the mind
of Christ did I follow when I defied death 7–Did I do it as a
Christian 7–Ah, no Could my hopes of endless glory be certain
during the eventful and bloody scene 2 Did the spirit of the chris-
tian religion, or the pattern of the holy Jesus, inspire me with
disdain for my enemies, while piercing their vitals, and sending
their souls into the shades of death 7–No : he commanded me
to love my enemies, but I have been destroying them; he has
13
enjoined submission and suffering, but I have sought for superiority,
victory and conquest. On the whole, let that man stand forth,
if earth can produce him, who can say he goes into action and en-
gages in the heat of war, in that spirit which he is conscious will
be approved and owned by the Judge of all the earth, when all our
subterfuges and self-impositions must be renounced ; and if such
an one should arise, and declare that he could do so, I for my own
part should infer, that a depraved heart had perverted his
judgment. But if it be admitted, that the temper of mind
necessary for the action of war, is inconsistent with Christianity,
I have all I ask; and those who argue for war have to support an
allowed indefensible scheme. But let professing Christians beware
how they support it, for in proportion as they give their aid to it,
they impede the real progress of Christ's religion.
I shall now notice, and endeavour to answer, some of the most
popular objections in favour of the fighting system. It is said,
that if any nation were to adopt the pacific conduct I have recom-
mended, the surrounding nations of the world would beset and
swallow it up. But be it remembered, that I expect this conduct
only to proceed from the effects of Christianity;” and this, if real
and effectual, supposes a degree, a large degree, of confidence and
dependence upon God; and were I to bring Scripture, or matter of
fact to prove that such a people were never forsaken nor confounded,
it would be like holding a taper to the sun. Who ever trusted in
God, and were confounded ? Who ever depended on his aid, and
were not delivered? Who, in the exercise of obedience to his precepts,
were ever forsaken 7 The annals of time cannot produce an instance
—the annals of time can produce thousands against it. Let facts
speak; the man, the family, the society, the nation, who live in
obedience to his commands, have God's peculiar attention: his arm
is an invincible shield; and when a man's ways please the Lord, he
maketh even his enemies to be at peace with him : but if, in the
wise and inscrutable ways of his providence, he permit some to
suffer, in order to excite stronger zeal in others, and to spread truth
by their sufferings, this is no argument in favour of resistance by
violence; nor should we impute their sufferings merely to the
conquest and superiority of their enemies, but to divine permission,
* Let it not be forgotten that we are a professing christian nation.
14
that thousands may be won by the firmness and constancy, the
patience and exalted piety, with which they meet the terrors of
their persecutors. The conquest is on their side; and they go
by the very means of persecution (however evil the intention) from
an inferior to a superior enjoyment, from earth to heaven: in this
Christianity at first triumphed ; not by the law of retaliation, or
force, but by a constant, faithful adherence to the law of Christ.
And, oh had reformers and their followers stopped there, instead
of endeavouring to support the cause of piety by temporal power
and the secular arm, the spirit of Christ had still been seen
triumphant. But the idea of maintaining true religion, pure and
undefiled religion, by pomp and splendour, by power and the sword,
is like death in the pot, destructive of the true notion and spirit
of Christianity: in false apprehensions of external glory and worldly
splendour lay the ground of this error, which the Scriptures, the
example oº:Christ himself, and the experience of good men, uni-
formly combat. “The idea of a temporal Messiah,” says a good
writer, “is mean and carnal: this mean idea hath possessed the
“minds of the professed disciples of Christ in all ages. The
“apostles indeed soon struggled through such low secular notions;
“but a very large succession of their pretended followers have
“expired incurable under this disease.””
That the Christian Church is not indebted for its existence and
success, even in this age of the world, to the sword, has lately been
instanced in the history of the Quakers, and of the Moravians,
whose example in this respect, it is much to be regretted, is so
little followed.
Another argument which I have heard, and am grieved that I
do not wrong human nature in reporting it, is, that were it not for
the intervention of wars, the inhabitants of the earth would be too
numerous; and that wars therefore are necessary to prevent a
pressure which the earth could not sustain. Providence, say some,
ordains or permits the continuance of war to thin the ranks of
life, and take the superfluous out of the way. Humanity, to say
nothing of religion, shudders at such an argument 1 — It might
suit a Nero, an Attila, or a Tamerlane, but only with wretches
of that sanguinary cast can the argument have any weight. For
* Claude's Essay, Vol. II. page 237, note 2.
15
an answer to this I would only refer its advocates to their own
bosom ; to the terrors, the consciousness, the horror, which must
shortly awaken the keen sensations of the guilt of bloodshed, and
condemn them at that bar where hypocrisy shall lose its mask,
and the cruel meet with a full reward. The argument can have no
weight with a heart susceptible of human sensibility; much less
with those persons who study and imitate the compassion of the
Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.
Another objection is founded on the argument of natural, or civil
right, and infers the justice of resistance, in defence of those rights
and liberties, which are by many esteemed dearer than life itself,
and to maintain which thousands have died.*
This objection has a degree of weight, and may be tenable on the
score of natural religion. It was under this case that the Jews often
fought, and had the divine command; and under this case also many
of the Gentile nations have resisted the invasions of tyrants and op-
pressors, and a system of human policy may justify such resistance to
the oppressions of tyranny:-it has indeed been lauded under the
name of patriotism; but Christianity calls on us to renounce it for
submission, for suffering for Christ's sake, and for the exercise of
patience and endurance. To make it lawful for Christians to
wage war, some abatement must necessarily be made, from the posi-
tive commands of Christ “to love our enemiès,” “to do good to them
that hate us,” “to return good for evil;”—commands of equal import
with those which require us to love our neighbour as ourselves, or
“to love God supremely:” commands which are of equal authority
with those which instituted all the ordinances of the gospel, and,
deserving of no less regard. To what a wonderful degree of pre-
judice then must the minds of professing Christians have risen to
question these commands, or rob them of their effect ' You see I
take the liberty of differing from the general sentiments of allowed
good men on this subject; but remember, I am accountable to none
but God. No human tribunal can with justice interfere with the
rights of conscience: and I have a hope, that if an interchange of
sentiments were possible, I should find thousands and millions who
think with me ; and although I infer nothing from multitude, yet I
think the hope is not vain. The dreadful avidity with which war
* England can witness this in her Hampdens, Russells, Sidneys, &c.
I6
has been pursued of late by the French nation, by the continental
allies, and the deep, affecting, and determined part which our own
country has taken in it, will, I trust, arouse professing Christians to
a consideration of their ways, and to think seriously of discussing the
lawfulness of war, and the nature of those arguments by which it is
supported; which could not fail, in some degree, to remove from
before the minds of men the veil which has so long and so unhappily
obscured their moral vision. This must be the case before obedience
to Christ is much more prevalent, or before it becomes universal; a
blessing which we have reason to expect, and confidence to pray for,
supported as we are by many of the prophetic promises of Scripture,
which remain yet to be fulfilled. It were to be wished that this
might be made the subject for some academic or scholastic prize.
If treated in a proper manner, it could not fail to make the question
more popular, and the subject better understood. The miseries of
war, its expenses, the national losses and the immoral effects caused
by it, furnish matter too copious for me to urge within my present
compass and design ; and they are worthy of much abler and more
minute discussion than mine. With a hope, and some degree of
expectation, that such a discussion may hereafter prevail, I daily use
that petition of my Master—“Thy kingdom come.”
I am, dear Sir,
Yours, &c.
*
---s ºr -ºsmº” “ºrº
R. Clay, Printer, 7, Brea i Street Hill, Cheapside.
Tract No. III. of the Society for the Promotion of
Permanent and Universal Peace.
A N
ESSAY
ON THE
DOCTRINES AND PRACTICE
() F 'I H. J.
EARLY CHRISTIANS,
AS THEY RELATE TO
WAIR.
ADI)RESSED TO THOSE WHO PROFESS TO HAVE A REGARD FOR
THE CHRISTIA/V WAME,
BY THOMAS CLARKSON, M. A.
STEREO TYPE EDITION,
****--" -“ - - -- ~~~~ **w-wºwn-ºre sers.
# attºon :
PRINTED BY R. CLAY, BREA D-S 1 it El-T-HILL ;
SOLD BY
HAMILTON, A D A MS, & CO. PATER NO ST E R RO W;
BY ALL OTHER Books.ELLERs ; AND
AT THE DEPOSITORY, STAR COURT, BREAD STREET, CHEAPSIDE.
1832.
Price 2d.
The object of THE SOCIETY for the PROMOTION
of PERMAN ENT and UNIVERSAL PEACE, is to
print and circulate Tracts, and to diffuse information tend-
ing to shew that War is inconsistent with the spirit of
Christianity, and the true interests of mankind; and to
point out the means best calculated to maintain Permanent
and Universal Peace, upon the basis of Christian Principles.
Its labours are not limited by Local attachments, nor cir-
cumscribed by Geographical Boundaries, but eartend to the
whole human race.
RoBERT MARS DEN, Esq. Chairman.
SAMUEL GURNEY, Esq. Treasurer.
Rev. JAMES HARGREAVES, Honorary Home Secretary.
Rev. Thomas WooD, Honorary Foreign Secretary.
John BEvANs, Assistant Secretary and Collector.
egºsºsºmºsºmsºmº
*...* It is requested that all Communications may be for-
warded to the respective Officers of the PEACE SocIETY,
directed to the Depository, Star Court, Bread Street,
Cheapside.
AN ESSAY
ON
THE DOCTR IN ES, &c.
—Q-
AccustomED as Christians have been, for many centuries, to
consider the profession of arms as singularly honourable, and
martial achievements, however bloody, as the most glorious of
human exploits, it must be difficult for them to see the following
passages of Scripture, through a clear, pure, and uncorrupted
medium ; viz. “I say unto you, resist not evil; love your enemies;
do good to them that hate, and pray for them that despite-
fully use and persecute you.” The prejudices of some, the
interests of others, and custom with all, have induced a general
belief that these, and similar passages, have no relation to wars.
But it may be important to all, but more particularly to those
who desire to be accounted real followers of Christ, to know
in what manner their first Fathers, the early Christians, under-
stood them ; to know how those persons understood them, who
were converted by the Apostles themselves, or who had oppor-
tunities of interpretation from the very hips of their immediate
successors; who believed with all their hearts, that the New
Testament was of divine origin; that the precepts it contained
were not to be dispensed with to suit particular cases, without
the imputation of evil; and who chose rather to die by the hand
of the public executioner, than to do that which appeared to them
to be wrong. Now we intend to furnish the reader with such
knowledge, and to prove to him, that long after the introduction
of the Christian Religion into the world, that is, nihile the lamp of
Christianity burnt pure and bright, not only the Fathers of the
Church held it unlanful for Christians to bear arms, but those, who
A 2
4
came within the pale of it, abstained from the use of them, and this
to the certain loss of their lives; and that it was not till Chris-
tianity became corrupted, that its folloners became soldiers. But if
this should be shown to be the case, it is to be hoped that many,
who now profess to be Christians, will seriously re-examine those
passages of Scripture, on the consideration of which the first Fathers,
contrary to their notions and their established habits, gave up the
profession of arms: and that they will endeavour to explain, in a
manner satisfactory to themselves, the reason why, on a subject of
such vast importance, there should be such an essential difference
between the primitive and the modern faith.
With respect to the opinions of the first Christian Writers after
the Apostles, or of those who are usually called the Fathers of
the Church, relative to War, I believe we shall find them alike for
nearly three hundred years, if not for a longer period. JustiN
the Martyr, one of the earliest of those in the second century,
considers nar as wnlanful. He makes, also, the devil the author
of all war. %
TATIAN, who was the disciple of Justin, in his oration to the
Greeks, speaks in the same terms on the same subject.
From the different expressions of CLEMENs, of Alexandria, a
contemporary of the latter, we collect his opinion to be decisive
also against the lanfulness of nar. -
TERTULLIAN, who may be mentioned next in order of time,
strongly condemned the practice of bearing arms. I shall give one
or two extracts from him on this subject. In his Dissertation
“on the Worship of Idols,” he says, “Though the soldiers came
to John and received a certain form to be observed, and though
the centurion believed, yet Jesus Christ, by disarming Peter, dis-
armed every soldier afterward; for custom never sanctions an
unlawful act.” And in his “Soldier's Garland,” he says, “Can
a soldier's life be lawful, when Christ has pronounced, that he
who lives by the sword, shall perish by the sword 7 Can one
who professes the peaceable doctrines of the Gospel, be a soldier,
when it is his duty not so much as to go to law 7 And shall he
nho is not to revenge his onm nºrongs, be instrumental in bringing
others into chains, imprisonment, torment, death ?
CYPRIAN, in his Epistle to DoNATus, speaks thus—“Suppose
5
thyself with me on the top of some very exalted eminence,
and from thence looking down upon the appearances of things
below. Let our prospect take in the whole horizon, and let us
view with the indifference of persons not concerned in them, the
various motions and agitations of human life. Thou wilt then, I dare
say, have a real compassion for the circumstances of mankind, and
for the posture in which this view will represent them. And
when thou reflectest upon thy condition, thy thoughts will rise
in transports of gratitude and praise to God for having made thy
escape from the pollutions of the world. The things thou wilt prin-
cipally observe will be the highways beset with robbers, the seas
with pirates; encampments, marches, and all the terrible forms of
war and bloodshed. When a single murder is committed it shall be
deemed, perhaps, a crime; but that crime shall commence a virtue,
when committed under the shelter of public authority: so that
punishment is not rated by the measure of guilt; but the more
enormous the size of the nickedness is, so much the greater is the
chance of impunity.” These are the sentiments of CYPRIAN ; and
that they were the result of his views of Christianity, as taken from
the divine writings, there can be no doubt. If he had stood upon
the same eminence, and beheld the same sights, previously to his
conversion, he would, like others, have neither thought piracy
dishonourable, nor war inglorious.
LACTANTIUs, who lived some time after CYPRIAN, in his
Treatise concerning the true worship of God, says, “It can never
be lanful for a righteous man to go to nar, nhose warfare is in
righteousness itself.”
To these may be added ARCHELAUs, AMBRoSE, CHRYSosToM,
JERoM, and CYRIL, all of whom were of opinion, that it was
unlanful for Christians to go to nar.
With respect to the practice of the early Christians, which is
the next point to be considered, it may be observed, that there
is no well authenticated instance upon record of Christians en-
tering into the army for nearly the two first centuries; but it is
true, on the other hand, that they had declined the military
profession, as one in which it was not lawful for them to engage.
The first species of evidence to this point may be found in the fol-
lowing facts, which reach from about the year 170, to about the
6
year 195. Cassius had rebelled against the Emperor Verus, and was
slain in a short time afterwards. Clodius Albinus in one part of the
world, and Pescennius Niger in another, had rebelled against the
Emperor Severus, and both were slain. Now suspicion fell, as it
always did in these times, if any thing went wrong, upon the
Christians, as having been concerned upon these occasions. But
TERTULLIAN tells us, in his “Discourse to Scapula,” that this
suspicion was totally groundless. “You defamed us,” (Christians)
says he, “by charging us with having been guilty of treason to
our emperors; but not a Christian could be found in any of
the rebel armies, whether commanded by Cassius, Albinus, or
Niger.” These, then, are important facts, for the armies in
question were very extensive. Cassius was master of all Syria
with its four Legions; Niger, of the Asiatic and Egyptian Le-
gions; and Albinus, of those of Britain; which Legions together
contained between a third and a half of the standing Legions of .
Rome: and the circumstance, that no Christian was to be found
in them, is the more remarkable, because, according to the same
TERTULLIAN, Christianity had then spread over almost the whole of
the known world.
A second species of evidence, may be collected from expres-
sions and declarations in the works of certain authors of those
times. JUSTIN the Martyr, and TATIAN, make distinctions betneen
soldiers and Christians; and CLEMENs, of Alexandria, gives the
Christians, who were contemporary with him, the appellation of
the “Peaceable,” thus distinguishing them from others of the
world; and he says expressly, that the “Peaceable,” never used
sword or bon), meaning by these the instruments of war.
A third species of evidence, may be found in the belief, which
the writers of these times had, that the Prophecy of Isaiah, which
predicted that men should turn their swords into plough-shares
and their spears into pruning-hooks, was then in the act of
completion.
IRENAEUs, who flourished about the year 180, affirms that this
famous Prophecy had been completed in his time; “for the Chris-
tians,” says he, “have changed their swords and their lances
into instruments of peace, and they know not hon to fight."
JustiN the Martyr, who was contemporary with IRENACUs,
7
asserts the same thing, which he could not have done, if the Chris-
tians in his time had engaged in war. “That the Prophecy,”
says he, “is fulfilled, you have good reason to believe; for me nho
in times past killed one another, do not non fight mith our enemies.”
And here it is observable, that the Greek word “fight” does not
mean to strike, or to beat, or to give a blow, but actually to fight
as in mar; and the Greek word “enemy,” does not mean a private
adversary, or one who has injured us, but an enemy of the State ; and
the sentence which follows that which has been given, puts the
matter out of all doubt. TERTULLIAN, who lived after both,
speaks in these remarkable words—“Deny that these (meaning
the turning of swords into ploughshares) are the things prophe-
sied of, nhen you see nwhat you see, or that they are the things
fulfilled when you read what you read; but if you deny neither of
these positions, then you must confess that the Prophecy has been
accomplished, as far as the practice of every individual is con-
cerned, to nihom it is applicable.” We might go from TERTUL-
LIAN even as far as THEoDoRET, if it were necessary, to shew that
the Prophecy in question was considered as in the act of com-
pletion in those times.
The fourth and last species of evidence may be found in the
assertions of CELSUs, and in the reply of ORIGEN to that writer.
CELSUs, who lived at the end of the second century, attacked the
Christian Religion. He made it one of his charges against the
Christians, that they refused in his times to bear arms for the Em-
peror, even in the case of necessity, and nihen their services would
have been accepted. He told them further, that if the rest of the
Empire mere of their opinion, it would soon be overrun by the Bar-
barians. Now CELSUs dared not have brought this charge against
the Christians, if the fact had not been publicly known. But let us
see whether it was denied by those who were of opinion that his
work demanded a reply. The person who wrote against him
in favour of Christianity, was ORIGEN, who lived in the third
century. But ORIGEN, in his answer, admits the facts as stated
by Celsus, that the Christians mould not bear arms in his time, and
justifies them for refusing the practice on the principle of the un-
lanfulness of nar.
And as the early Christians would not enter into the armies,
8
so there is good ground to suppose that, when they became
converted there, they relinquished their profession. We find
from TERTULLIAN, in his “Soldier's Garland,” that many in his
time, immediately on their conversion to Christianity, quitted the
military service. We are told, also, by ARCHELAUs, who flourished
under Probus in the year 278, that many Roman soldiers, who
had embraced Christianity after having witnessed the piety and
generosity of Marcellus, immediately forsook the profession of arms.
We are told, also, by EUSEBIUs, that about the same time Num-
bers laid aside a military life, and became private persons rather than
abjure their religion.”
Here then is a collection of evidence and facts, all tending to
show, that for nearly the first two hundred years after the intro-
duction of Christianity into the world, none of those, who professed
to be Christians, would either take upon themselves, or continue
the profession of soldiers. But as an objection may be made to
the foregoing statements, it will be proper to notice it in this place.
It may be said that the military oath, nihich all were obliged to
take alike in the Roman armies, and which was to be repeated an-
nually, nas full of idolatry; that the Roman standards were all
considered as gods and had divine honours paid them by the sol-
diery; and that images also, of the Emperors, which were either
fixed upon these standards, or placed in the midst of them in a
temple in the camp, mere to be norshipped in the same manner.
Now these impious customs were interwoven with the military
service. No one soldier in the Roman armies was exempted from
them. It may be urged, therefore, that no Christian could sub-
mit to such services. Indeed, when a person was suspected of
being a Christian in those times, he was instantly taken to the
altar to sacrifice, it being notorious that if he were a Christian,
he would not sacrifice, though the loss of his life was the certain
consequence of his refusal. Is it not therefore, an objector may
say, to be presumed, that these idolatrous tests and customs operated
as the great cause, why Christians refused to enter into the army,
or why they left it when converted, as mentioned in a former page.
That these tests operated as a cause, that is, as one cause,
must be allowed. This is stated by TERTULLIAN himself.
He makes it one of his arguments against the lawfulness
{}
of serving in the army. Does he not say, “that the military
oath and the baptismal vow were inconsistent with each
other, the one being the sign of Christ, the other of the Devil” 2
Does he not also call the military standard “The Rival, or
Enemy of Christ” 2 But all history confirms the fact. Take the
following instance to the point. Marinus, according to EUSE-
BIUs, was a man of family and fortune, and an officer in a
legion, which in the year 260, was stationed at Caesarea, of Pa-
lestine. One of the centurion's rods happened to become vacant
in this legion, and Marinus was appointed to it. But just at this
moment another, next to him in rank, accused him before the
tribunal of being a Christian, stating, “that the laws did not allow
a Christian niho refused to sacrifice to the Emperors, to hold any
dignity in the army.” Achaeus the judge, asked Marinus if it
was true that he had become a Christian? He acknowledged it.
Three hours were then allowed him to consider whether he would
sacrifice or die. When the time expired he chose the latter. But
the history of those times is full of instances of this sort. Indeed,
so desirous were the early Christians of keeping clear of idolatry
in every shape, that they avoided every custom, which appeared
in the least degree connected with it. Thus when a largess was
given in honour of the Emperors, L. Septimus Severus, the
father, and M. Aurelius Caracalla, the son, a solitary soldier, as
we learn from TERTULLIAN, was seen carrying the garland, which
had been given him on that occasion, in his hand, while the rest
wore it upon their head. The Church at this time held it unlaw-
ful for any Christian to wear the garland, because it belonged to
the dress of the Heathen Priests, when they were sacrificing to
their gods. On being interrogated by his commander why he
refused wearing it, he replied, that he had become a Christian.
He was immediately punished before the army, and sent into
prison.
But though, unquestionably, the idolatrous services required of
the soldiers of those times, hindered Christians from entering into
the armies, and compelled those, who were converted in them,
to leave them, nothing is more true, than that the belief, that it
was unlanful for Christians to fight, occasioned an equal abhorrence
of a military life.
B
10
There were three notions, upon which this belief was grounded.
The first was, that it was their duty, according to the Scriptures,
to love their enemies. At this time, the world was full of divisions
und bitterness. The Jews looked upon the Gentiles as dogs and
outcasts, so as not even to tell them their road when asked, or
give them a draught of water. The Gentiles, on the other hand,
considered the Jews as the enemies of all nations, and as the haters
of mankind. Nations, too, were set against each other, on
account of former and existing wars. JUSTIN the Martyr, in
allusion to this unhappy state of things, says, “We, who once
hated each other, and delighted in mutual quarrels and slaughter,
and, according to custom, refused to sit at the same fire with
those who were not of our own tribe and party, now since the
appearance of Christ in the norld, live familiarly with them, pray
for our enemies, and endeavour to persuade them, who hate us un-
justly, to order their lives according to the excellent precepts of
Christ, that so they may have good hope to obtain the same
rewards with its from the great Lord and Judge of all things.”
Such was the practice of the early Christians, as founded on this
genet. TERTULLIAN says, “it was their peculiar character to
love their enemies; ” and ATHENAGORAS, JULIAN, and LACTAN-
FIUs, make “this their character to have been a proof of the
divinity of their religion.” It was impossible, therefore, while they
embraced this heavenly tenet, (even had the idolatrous services of
the army been dispensed mith) that they could have appeared in the
shape of warriors.
The second notion was, (and it continued while Christianity was
pure and unmixed with the interpretation of political men,) that
it became them, in obedience to the commands of Christ, to ab-
stain from all manner of violence, and to become distinguishable as
the followers of peace. The sublime way, in which they viewed
the command in question, may be judged of in a more appro-
priate manner by the interpretation, which IsIDORE of PELUSIUM
has left us of it. “The great King of Heaven,” says he,
“came down from above to deliver to the world rules for an
heavenly conduct, which he has placed in a certain mode of con-
tending quite contrary to that in the Olympic Games. There, he
that fights and gets the better, receives the Crown. Here, he
I 1
that is struck, and bears it meekly, has the honour and applause.
There, he that returns blow for blow—Here, he that turns the
other cheek, is celebrated in the theatre of Angels; for the vic-
tory is not measured by revenge, but by a wise and generous
patience. This is the new law of Crowns.—This is the new way
of contending for the mastery.” We find, accordingly, from
ATHENAGORAs and other early writers, that the Christians of
their time abstained, when they were struck, from striking again,
and that they carried their principles so far, as even to refuse to
to go to law nith those niho injured them. It was impossible, there-
fore, again, while they interpreted the Scriptures in this manner
(though nothing idolatrous had been required of them) “to have
y
used the sword or the bow,” or indeed any other weapon, for the
purposes of war.
The third notion nas that the slaughter of men in nar nas neither
more nor less than direct murder. They had such an abhorrence of
murder, and of being thought to be implicated, in the very small-
est degree, in so atrocious a crime, that they refused to be pre-
sent where the life of a fellow-creature was taken away, what-
ever was the occasion. ATHENAGoRAs, TATIAN, THEOPHILUs
ANTIochENUs, and MINUTIUS FELIX, all agree in asserting, that
they kept away from the gladiatorial shows; and they give us
their reasons for so doing. “This we do,” says THEoPIIILUs,
“lest ne should become partakers of the murders committed there.”
A similar reason is also given by ATHENAGORAs on this occa-
sion; “Who is there,” says he, “that does not prize the shows of
the gladiators, which your Emperors make for the people 7 but
we, thinking that there is very little difference, mhether a man be
the author or spectator of murder, keep away from all such sights.”
And here it may be observed, that the gladiators themselves were
generally prisoners of war, or reputed enemies; and that the
slaughter of these was by the public authority, and sanctioned, as in
war, by the State. Now, what conclusion are we to draw from
these premises 7 Can we think it possible that those who thought
an attendance at the gladiatorial spectacles criminal on the prin-
ciple, that he who stood by nas a murderer (though the murder was
sanctioned by authority, ) should not have also thought it criminal to
engage in the military service, upon the principle that it nas unlan-
ful to fight?
B 2
12
In short, the belief of the unlawfulness of War on the three no-
‘ions just explained (independently of any connexion of Idolatry
vith the military service) appears to have been universal among
Christians of those times. Every Christian Writer of the second
century, who notices the subject, makes it unlanful for Christians
to bear arms. And as this belief seems to have been universal,
so it operated as an impediment to a military life, quite as much as
the Idolatry that was connected mith it, of which the following
instances, taken by way of illustration, though at somewhat dif-
ferent periods, may suffice.
The first I propose to mention shall be, where there was an
objection to entering into the military service upon this very
principle. -
Maximilian having been brought before the tribunal, in order
to be enrolled as a Soldier, Dion, the Proconsul, asked him his name.
Maximilian, turning to him, replied, “Why wouldst thou know my
name 7 I am a Christian, and cannot fight.”
Then Dion ordered him to be enrolled, and when he was
enrolled it was recited out of the Register, that he was five feet ten
inches high. Immediately after this, Dion bade the officer mark
him. But Maximilian refused to be marked, still asserting that
he was a Christian ; upon which Dion instantly replied, “Bear
Arms, or thou shalt die.”
To this Maximilian answered, “I cannot fight, if I die; I am
not a Soldier of this norld, but a Soldier of God.” Dion then said,
“Who has persuaded thee to behave thus 7" Maximilian an-
swered, “My own mind, and he who called me.” Dion then
spoke to his father, and bade him persuade his son. But his father
observed, that his son knew his own mind, and what it was best for
him to do.
After this had passed, Dion addressed Maximilian, again in these
words, “Take thy Arms, and receive the Mark.” “I can receive,”
says Maximilian, “no such mark. I have already the Mark of
Christ; ” upon which Dion said, “I will send thee quickly to
thy Christ:” “Thou mayest do so,” says Maximilian; “but the
glory will be mine.”
Dion then bade the officer mark him. But Maximilian still
persisted in refusing; and spoke thus: “I cannot receive the
mark of this world, and if thou shouldst give me the mark, I
13
will destroy it. It will avail nothing. I am a Christian, and it
is not lawful for me to wear such a mark about my neck, when
I have received the saving mark of the Lord Jesus Christ, the Son
of the living God, whom thou knowest not, who died to give us life,
and whom God gave for our sins. Him all we Christians obey.—
Him we follow, as the Restorer of our life, and the Author of our
salvation.”
Dion instantly replied to this, “Take thy Arms, and receive
the Mark, or thou shalt suffer a miserable death.”—“But I shall not
perish,” says Maximilian: “my name is already enrolled with
Christ,--I cannot fight.”
Dion said, “Consider then thy youth, and bear Arms. The
profession of Arms becomes a young man.” Maximilian replied,
“My Arms are mith the Lord. I cannot fight for any earthly con-
sideration. I am non a Christian.”
Dion, the Proconsul, said, “Among the Life Guards of our
masters, Dioclesian and Maximinian, and Constantius and Maximus,
there are Christian Soldiers, and they fight.” Maximilian answered,
“They know best what is expedient for them ; but I am a Chris-
tian, and it is unlanful to do evil.”
Dion said, “Take thy Arms; despise not the profession of a
Soldier, lest thou perish miserably.”—“ But I shall not perish,”
says Maximilian; “and if I should leave this world, my soul will
live with Christ the Lord.”
Dion then ordered his name to be struck from the roll; and,
when this was done, he proceeded, “Because out of thy rebel-
lious spirit, thou hast refused to bear arms, thou shalt be
punished according to thy deserts, for an example to others;”
and then he delivered the following sentence: “Maximilian
because thou hast, with a rebellious spirit, refused to bear arms,
thou art to die by the sword.”—Maximilian replied, “Thanks be
to God.”
He was twenty years, three months, and seventeen days old;
and, when he was led to the place of execution, he spoke
thus:—“ My dear brethren, endeavour with all your might,
that it may be your portion to see the Lord, and that he may
give you such a Crown;” and then, with a pleasant countenance,
he said to his father, “ Give the executioner the soldiers
14
coat thou hast gotten for me; and, when I shall receive thee in
the company of the blessed martyrs, we may rejoice together with
the Lord.”
After this he suffered. His mother, Pompeiana, obtained his
body from the judge, and conveyed it to Carthage, and buried it
near the place where the body of CYPRIAN the martyr lay. And
thirteen days after this his mother died, and was buried in the
same place. And Victor, his father, returned to his habitation,
rejoicing and praising God, that he had sent before such a gift to
the Lord, himself expecting to follow after.
We shall only observe upon this instance, that it is nearly pure
and unmixed, or that it is but little connected with idolatrous circum-
stances; or rather, that the unlanfulness of fighting was principally
urged by Maximilian as a reason against entering into a military
life. Let us now find a case, where, when a person was converted
in the army, he left it, pleading this principle again, as one among
others, for his dereliction of it.
Marcellus was a centurion in the Legion called Trajana. On a
festival, given in honour of the birth-day of Galerius, he threw
down his military belt at the head of the Legion, and, in the face
of the standards, declared with a loud voice, that he would no
longer serve in the Army; for that he had become a Christian.
“I hold in detestation,” says he, addressing himself to all the
Soldiers, “the worship of your gods; gods, which are made of
wood and stone; gods which are deaf and dumb.” So far
Marcellus, it appears, seems to have been influenced in his
desertion of a military life by the Idolatory connected mith it. But
let us hear him further on this subject—“It is not lanful,” says
he, “for a Christian, who is the servant of Christ the Lord, to bear
Arms for any earthly consideration.” After a delay of more than
three months in prison after this transaction, which delay was
allowed to the purpose of sparing him, he was brought be-
fore the Prefect. There he had an opportunity of correcting
his former expressions. But, as he persisted in the same sen-
timents, he suffered. It is remarkable that, almost immediately
after his execution, Cassian, who was the notary to the same
Legion, refused to serve any longer, by publicly throwing his
pen and accompt-book on the ground, and declaring, at the
15
same time, that the sentence of Marcellus was unjust. When
taken up by the order of Aurelianus Agricolanus, he is described
by the record preserved by Ruinart, to have avoned the
same senetiments as Marcellus ; and like him to have suffered
death.
Let us now find a case where a converted Soldier left the army,
pleading the same principle. Martin, of whom Sulpicius Severus
says so much, had been bred to the profession of Arms, but on his
conversion to Christianity, declined it. In the answer, which he gave
to Julian the Apostate for his conduct on this occasion, we find him
making use of these words, “I am; a Christian, and therefore I
cannot fight.”
And here it may be observed, that though the noble Martyrs
now mentioned, grounded their apology for declining the military
service, some, on account of the idolatry which belonged to it,
and others of the unlawfulness of fighting ; yet that, which was
more usually set up by them, when they were brought before
the tribunals, was comprehended in the simple declaration, that
having non become Christians, they could be no longer Soldiers.
Let us quote the instance of Tarachus, another military man
and martyr, and let this serve for all. Tarachus underwent his
examination at Tarsus in Cilicia. Numerianus Maximus sat as
the President on the judgment-seat. “What is your name 7”
says Maximus. “I am called Tarachus (says the prisoner) by
my father, but my military name is Victor.” The President
goes on : “And what is your condition ?” The prisoner replies,
“I have led a military life, and am a Roman. I was born at
Claudiopolis, a city of Isauria, and, because I am a Christian, I
have abandoned my profession of a Soldier.” Such was the answer
usually given to the tribunals on such occasions, without any
specification as to which of the two principles had influenced the
conduct of those who were brought before them : and, when-
ever we hear of such general apology or answer, we cannot
doubt that they, who made use of it, were actuated by both.
The unlanfulness of fighting was as much a principle of religion
in the early times of Christianity as the refusal of sacrifice to the
Heathen Gods; and they operated equally to prevent men from
entering into the army, and to drive them out of it on heir
16
conversion. Indeed these principles always went together,
where the profession of arms presented itself as an occupation
for a Christian. He, who refused the profession, on account
of the idolatry connected with it, would have refused it on
account of the unlawfulness of fighting. And he, who refused
it on account of the guilt of fighting, would have refused it
on account of the idolatrous services it required. Both and each
of them were impediments, in the early times of Christianity, to a
military life.
Having now shown what were the sentiments of the Fathers of
the Christian Church, and what was the practice of those that
belonged to it, for two centuries, on the subject of war, we come
to the proof of the third and last Proposition, namely, that as
the lamp of Christianity burnt bright in those early times, so those
who mere illuminated by it, declined the military profession; that
as its flame shone less clear, they had less objection to it; and that
it n'as not till Christianity became corrupted, that its folloners be-
came soldiers. Thus in the two first centuries, when Christianity
was the purest, there are no Christian soldiers upon record. In
the third century, when it became less pure, there is frequent
mention of such soldiers. And in the fourth, when its corruption
was fixed, Christians entered generally upon the profession of
arms, with as little hesitation as they entered upon any other
occupation of life.
That there were no Christian soldiers, at any rate upon record,
for the best part of two centuries, has already been made
apparent.
That Christianity also was purest in these times, there can be
no doubt. Let us look at the character which is given of the
first Christians by ATHENAGoRAs, JUSTIN the Martyr, MINUTrus
FELIX, and others of the early Christian writers. According
to these, they were plain and neat in their apparel, and frugal
in their furniture. They were temperate in their eating and
drinking. They relinquished all the diversions of the times in
which they saw any tendency to evil. They were chaste in their
conversation, tempering mirth with gravity. They were modest
and chaste in their deportment and manners. They were punc-
tual to their words and engagements. They were such lovers of
17
truth, that, on being asked if they were Christians, they never
denied it, though death was the consequence. They loved each
other as brethren, and called one another by that name. They
were kind, and courteous, and charitable beyond all example.
They abstained from all manner of violence. They prayed for
those who persecuted them. They were patterns of humility
and patience. They made no sacrifices of their consciences, but
would persevere in that which was right, never refusing to die
for their religion. This is the character which is given of them
by the different writers of those times.
That their conduct was altered in the third century, where we
are now to view it, we may collect from indisputable authority.
It was stated, some time ago, that a Christian soldier was
punished for refusing to wear a garland, like the rest of his com-
rades, on a public occasion. This man, it appears, had been con-
verted whilst in the army, and objected to the ceremony on that
account. Now TERTULLIAN tells us that this soldier nas blamed
for his unseasonable zeal, as it was called, by some of the Christians
at that time, though all Christians before considered the wearing of
such a garland as unlanful and profane. This blame or censure is
the first expression upon record, from which we may date the
beginning of conformity on the part of the early Christians with
the opinions of the norld. There were then, as TERTULLIAN con-
fesses, certain Christian Casuists, who, it appears, had so far
degenerated from the pure principles of their ancestors, as to
think that many of the Heathen customs might be complied
with, though strictly forbidden by the Church; in fact, that they
might go any length, without the just imputation of idolatry,
provided they did not sacrifice to the Pagan Gods, or become Hea-
then Priests. Indeed, his whole book, “on the Worship of Idols,”
is a continued satire on the occasional conformity of his brethren in
the beginning of the third century, or, in other words, of an occa-
sional mercenary compliance, on their part, nith the Pagan Wor-
ship. At this time there is no question but the Christian discipline
began to relax. To the ease, which the Christians enjoyed from
the death of Antoninus to the tenth year of Severus, is to be
ascribed the corruption that ensued. This corruption we find to
have spread rapidly. TERTULLIAN lived long enough to kno"
18
that several, bearing the name of Christians, but who were no
doubt the disciples of the Casuists just mentioned, had entered
into the Roman armies. This fact we find in his “Apology;”
for when the Pagans charged the Christians, as they had pretty
constantly done, with being useless to the commonwealth, he
answers the accusation in part by saying, that they were then
Christians in the military service of their country. “We serve,”
says he, “with you and your armies;” a very different answer
this, to that which ORIGEN gave Celsus on a similar charge
respecting what had been the state of things in the second century,
as appears in a former page | But the corruption did not stop
here. The same TERTULLIAN was enabled to furnish us with
the extraordinary instance of manufacturers of Idols being ad-
mitted into the Ecclesiastical order. Many corruptions are also
noticed in this century by other writers. CYPRIAN complained
of them, as they existed in the middle ; and EUSEBIUs, as they
existed at the end of it; and both attributed them to the ease and
security which the Christians had enjoyed. The latter gives us
a melancholy account of their change. They had begun to live
in fine houses, and to indulge in luxuries. But, above all, they
2
had begun to be envious and quarrelsome, and to dissemble, and
to cheat, and to falsify their word, so that they had lost the cha-
racter, which Pliny, an adversary to their religion, had been obliged
to give of them, and which they had retained for more than a cen-
tury after this, as appears by their own writers.
That there were Christian soldiers in this more corrupt century
of the Church, it is impossible to deny ; for, besides what has
been just advanced, such frequent mention is made of them in
the histories which relate to this period, that we cannot refuse
our assent to one or other of the propositions, either that thero
were men in the armies, muho called themselves Christians, or that
there were men in them who had that name given them by other.
That they were Christians, however, that is, real Christians, is
another question. They were probably such Christians as the
Casuists of TERTULLIAN ; or such as Dion mentioned to have
been among the Life-Guards of Dioclesian and Maximilian, and
of Constantius and Maximus, of whom Maximilian observed,
“these men may know what it is expedient for them to do, but
19
I am a Christian, and therefore I cannot fight.” Indeed, that
real Christians could have been found in the army in this century
is impossible. For the military oath, which nas full of idolatry,
and the norshipping of the standards, and the performance of sacri-
fice, still continued as services not to be dispensed nith by the
soldiery. No one, therefore, can believe, that men in the full prac-
tice of Pagan idolatry, as every legionary soldier must then have
been, mere real Christians, merely because it is recorded in history
that men, calling themselves Christians, were found in the army
in those times. On the other hand, if any soldiers professed
Christianity at this period, or are related by authors to have
professed it, and yet to have remained soldiers, it may be directly
pronounced, that they could only have been nominal or corrupted
Christians. -
That Christianity was more degenerate in the fourth than in
the third century, we have indubitable proof. Let us look at
the evidence with which LACTANTIUs furnishes us in his book
on “the Death of the Persecuted.” He tells us, “that the sacri-
fices did not do well, when any of the Christians' attended them.”
What! Christians present at the Heathen sacrifices, and sitting
at meat in the Idols' temple, contrary to the prohibition of St.
Paul | But this is not all. He gives us in the same book
another piece of information about the Christian conformists of
this time, in the following words: “ The Emperor,” says he,
“ while he was in the East, made a sacrifice of oxen, and en-
deavoured to ascertain, by inspection of the entrails, what was
about to happen. At this time some Christians, niho filled the
inferior offices of the (Heathen) priesthood, while they were giving
their assistance to the High Priest on this occasion, marked their
foreheads with the sign of the cross. The consequence was, that
the Aruspices were frightened, and could not collect their usual
marks.” Here then we see not only that Christians were pre-
sent at some of the Heathen sacrifices, but that they filled offices
belonging to the lower order of the Pagan hierarchy. We may
go, however, still farther, and we may assert upon authority
undeniable, that it was no uncommon thing, in this age, for Chris-
tians to accept of Heathen Priesthoods; for the Council of Elvira,
in the beginning of the fourth century, was forced to make several
20
Canons to forbid such scandalous usages, which Canons are now
extant. But it is not necessary to detail these or other particu-
lars. Almost every body knows that more evils sprang up to
the Church in this century, than in any other, some of which
remain at the present day. Indeed, the corruption of Christianity
was fired as it were by law in the age now mentioned. Constan-
tine, on his conversion, introduced many of the Pagan cere-
monies and superstitions, in which he had been brought up, into
the Christian religion. The Christians, rejoicing to see an
Emperor of their own religious persuasion, under whom they had
hopes of restoration to equal privileges with others, and of free-
dom from persecution, submitted, in order to please or flatter
him, to his idolatrous customs and opinions, thus sacrificing their
consciences to their ease and safety. Many, on the other hand,
who had always been heathems, professed themselves Christians
at once, merely out of compliment to their Emperor, and without
any real conversion of the heart. Thus there was a mixture of
Christianity and Heathenism in the Church, which had never
been known before. Constantine too did not dispense with the
blasphemous titles of Pontifex Maximus, Divinity, and Eternity,
as they had been given to his predecessors. After his death he
was considered also as a god. And, if Philostorgius is to be be-
lieved, the Christians, for so he calls them, prayed to and worshipped
him as such. -
Now in this century, when the corruption of the Church may
be considered to have been fixed, we scarcely find any mention
of Christian soldiers, or rather we find the distinction between
them and others gradually passing away. The truth is, that
when the Christians of this age had submitted to certain inno-
vations upon their religion, they were in a fit state to go greater
lengths ; and this they did (no doubt out of compliment to their
Brother-Emperor) in the relaxation of their religious scruples, as
they related to war. It may be observed, however, that this
relaxation was promoted also by other means. The existing
government, in order to make the military service more palatable
to them, dispensed with the old military oath, and allowed them
to swear “ by God, by Christ, and by the Holy Spirit, and by
the Majesty of the Emperor, which, next to God, was to be
21
loved and honoured by mankind.” This political manoeuvre
did away, in some measure, a part of the objection to a military
life, nihich arose from the idolatry connected mith it. The grand
tenet on war began also to be frittered down by some of the
leading clergy themselves, so as to lose its former meaning. It
had been formerly held unlawful for Christians to fight at all.
It was now insinuated as if it was allowable in a certain case; that
is, if they fought under the banners of Christian Emperors, for
bloodshed in war was more excusable when in the cause of virtue
and religion. This new interpretation of the old tenet afforded
a salvo or excuse to the consciences of many, and helped to take
off that other part of the objection to a military life, nihich consisted
in the unlawfulness of fighting. Hence the unlawfulness of fighting
began to be given up. We find, however, that here and there
an ancient Father still retained it as a religious tenet, but these
dropping off one after another, it ceased at length to be a doctrine
of the Church.
Having now examined the subject as far as we intended, we
purpose to conclude it with a few, we hope, not impertinent re-
marks—
The proposition, with which we set out, we presume, has been
sufficiently proved. It has been made to appear, that nihile the
lamp of Christianity burnt pure and bright, not only the Fathers of
the Church held it unlanful for Christians to bear arms, but those,
who came ruithin the pale of it, abstained from the wse of them, and
this to the certain loss of their lives; and that it m'as not till
Christianity became corrupted, that its followers became soldiers.
This is a most awful fact for those who profess the Christian reli-
gion, but who sanction war, at the present day. The consideration
of it ought to make them tremble as to the ground of their opinions
on this subject. It ought to make them fly to the Divine Writings,
and inquire, with an anxiety proportioned to the magnitude of the
case, what scope the latter afforded them for a construction of the
precepts therein contained, so injurious both to the morals and to
the happiness of mankind.
We invite them, then, most seriously to such an inquiry; and,
first, we would recommend them to consider, whether they think
they have more opportunities of light as to the understanding of
22
the Holy Scriptures, than their forefathers, the early Christians,
had. They will bear in remembrance, that the original writings
of the different Evangelists and Apostles, which go under that
name, and copies taken immediately from these, were all in use
in these times. They will bear in remembrance again, that some
epistles, written by the immediate disciples of the former, were
then in circulation, mhich are non lost. Nor will they, we hope,
forget this important fact, that there nas but one link between
some of the Fathers, who protested against war in the second
century, and the Apostles themselves; so that what the former
heard, as doctrines on particular points, they heard from those
n!ho conversed immediately nith the latter. Let us take the in-
stance of IRENAEUs. The latter, when a young man, attended
the preaching of that illustrious Martyr, PolycARP : and where
did PolycARP learn his religious tenets but from JoHN, the
beloved disciple of Jesus Christ? IRENEus, in his Epistle to
FLORINUs, speaks of the circumstance himself. “I saw thee,”
says he, “FLORINUs, when I was yet a youth, with PolycARPUs,
in the lower Asia, living gorgeously in the Emperor's palace, and
busying thyself with all thy might to get into favour and credit
with him. For I remember better the things of old than the
affairs of late ; for the things we learn in our childhood sink
deeper into our minds, and grow together with us: So that I
remember the very place where Poly CARPUs sat when he
taught; his going out and his coming in ; his occupation of life;
the figure and proportion of his person ; the Sermon made unto
the Multitude; the Report he made of his conversation with John
and others, who had seen the Lord: hon, he remembered their say-
ings, and mhat he heard out of their mouths touching the Lord, of
his ponyer and doctrine, reciting precepts, and all things consonant
to Holy Scripture, out of the mouths, I say, of those, niho had seen
with their onm eyes the Word of Life in the flesh. These things at
that time, through the mercy of God mhich mºrought in me, I dili-
gently marked and painted not on paper, but printed in my heart,
n!hich continually, through the grace of God, I ponder and medi-
tate upon.”
We would now recommend another matter to their serious in-
quiry. War, it must be allowed, is a complication of moral evil,
23
that is, of those acts, mhich have been marked as crimes both by the
lans of God and man. It includes robbery. It includes blood-
shed not unanares, which is the scriptural definition of murder.
We leave out of the catalogue fraud, debauchery, hatred, resent-
ment, and the exercise of all the bad passions of our nature.
The point then, which we throw out for their inquiry is, whether
theft can be otherwise than theft; and the shedding of blood
premeditately be otherwise than murder, on any occasion nihat-
ever ? Whether there are two different standards of morality for
men, the one alloned to be changed for the other as it is either a time
of nar, or a time of peace 2 Whether it can be discovered any
where in the Holy Scriptures, that a dispensation has been given
to any of the potentates, cabinets, or magistrates of the earth, to
alter the nature of vice, or to dissolve, at their discretion, the
responsibility of man to God for his own actions 2 If there be a
dispensation for these purposes, then, we presume, neither were
the Scriptures intended for, nor are they binding upon, all; but
a door is open to licentiousness, and every species of evil, by
those, of whom it is required to be the rulers, under God, for
good; and man's accountableness to God for his own actions done
in the flesh is annihilated at pleasure, and he need no longer attempt
to work out his own salvation, as this can be undertaken for him
by another. But if, on the other hand, there be no dispensation
to any person whatever for these purposes, then in what an awful
situation do we stand, and what title have we to the name of
Christians, while we are the favourers of war !
The last question, which we shall offer for their solution, is the
following: Which of the two have laboured most for the honour
and glory of God and the good of mankind; they, by whose inter-
pretation of Scripture, war had been extirpated from the earth, had
it been followed by others; or they, who, by a different interpretation,
have contributed to continue it? Or, (which is another way of
putting the question,) Which of the two better deserve the name of
Christians; they who by their interpretation enlarge, or they who
lessen, the number of the moral obligations of the Gospel ? Surely
it does not become us either to abridge the dignity of the new
covenant, or to put bounds to its benevolence. If it was the desire
of Jesus Christ that men should love their enemies, it is our duty
24
to believe, that his wish could not have been otherwise than uni-
versal. If it was an object with him to cure moral evil, it is our
duty to suppose, that it was his desire to destroy it, not partially, but
to the utmost possible extent. If it was his gracious design to give
happiness to man, it is our duty to determine, that he intended to
give it, not in a limited proportion, but in the largest possible measure.
Do we not in our public churches, and in our private and family
devotions, pour forth our prayers to God, “that his kingdom, that is,
the reign of virtue and happiness upon earth, may come 2" But how
ean his kingdom ever come, while wars are tolerated; or, in other
words, while those crimes which are universally the concomitants of
war, are not even viewed as crimes, but rather considered as me-
ritorious, and even extolled as virtues 2 These are matters, which
deserve the most serious consideration of those, who are desirous of
being accounted Christians. To such alone we have addressed
ourselves; and we now take our leave of them, under the pleasing
hope, that they will re-examine the Holy Scriptures, and then
endeavour to account, in a manner satisfactory to themselves (as
we set out with recommending in this Essay) why, on a subject of
such vast importance as that of nar, there should be such an essential
difference beinveen the primitive and the modern faith; and, also, that
they will take one other matter into their most serious consideration,
viz, whether AREITRATIon be not the only Christian may of settling
public differences; and whether such a way, if resorted to by Princes,
would not be as practicable, as agreeable, as efficient, and as happy
in its issue, as that, which has been hitherto adopted, of deciding
them by the Sword.
F I N I S.
R. Clay, Printer, 7, Bread Street Hill, Cheapside,
Tract No. IV. of the Society for the Promotion of
Permanent and Universal Peace.
wº-s -- - ----- sº---
EXTRACTS
WRITINGS OF ER AS MUS,
ON THE
SUBJECT OF WAR.
sº. *-*s-s-s-s-------- ~- - - ------------- -- --
—One murder makes a villain;
Millions, a her o. Bishop Porteus.
O ! what are these,
Death's ministers, not men, who thus deal death
Inhumanly to men, and multiply
Ten thousandfold the sin of him who slew
His brother : for of whom such massacre
Make they, but of their bi ethren ; men of men ;
Paradise Lost, Book XI. line 67%.
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The object of THE SOCIETY for the PROMOTION
of PERMAN ENT and UNIVERSAL PEACE, is to
print and circulate Tracts, and to diffuse information tend-
ing to shew that War is inconsistent with the spirit of
Christianity, and the true interests of mankind; and to
point out the means best calculated to maintain Permanent
and Universal Peace, upon the basis of Christian Principles.
Its labours are not limited by Local attachments, nor cir-
cumscribed by Geographical Boundaries, but eartend to the
whole human race.
Rob ERT MARS DEN, Esq. Chairman.
SAMUEL GURNEY, Esq. Treasurer.
Rev. JAMES HARGREAVES, Honorary Home Secretary.
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ÉXTRA (XTS
F R () NI
E R A S M U.S.
IF there is in the affairs of mortal men any one thing which it is
proper uniformly to explode; which it is incumbent on every
man, by every lawful means, to avoid, to deprecate, to oppose ;
that one thing is, doubtless, WAR. There is nothing more un-
naturally wicked, more productive of misery, more extensively
destructive, more obstinate in mischief, more unworthy of man,
as formed by nature, much more of man professing Christianity.
Yet, wonderful to relate 1 in these times war is every where
rashly, and on the slightest pretext, undertaken ; cruelly, and
savagely conducted, not only by Unbelievers, but by Christians;
not only by Laymen, but by Priests and Bishops; not only by the
young and inexperienced, but even by men far advanced in life,
who must have seen and felt its dreadful consequences; not only
by the lower order, fickle in their nature, but above all by princes,
whose duty it is to compose the rash passions of the unthinking
multitude by superior wisdom, and the force of reason. Nor are
there ever wanting men, learned in the law, and even divines,
who are ready to furnish firebrands for the nefarious work, and to
fan the latent sparks into a flame.
Hence it happens, that war is now considered so much a thing
of course, that the wonder is, how any man can disapprove of it;
so much sanctioned by authority and custom, that it is deemed
impious (I had almost said heretical) to have borne testimony
against a practice, in its principle most profligate, and in its
A 2
4
effects pregnant with every kind of calamity. If any one considers
a moment the organization and external figure of the body, will
he not instantly perceive that Nature, or rather the God of Na-
ture, created the human animal not for war, but for love and
friendship; not for mutual destruction, but for mutual service
and safety; not to commit injuries, but for acts of reciprocal
beneficence.
Man she brought into the world maked, weak, tender, un-
armed, his flesh of the softest texture, his skin smooth and
delicate, and susceptible of the slightest injury. There is
nothing observable in his limbs adapted to fighting, or to vio-
lence. Unable either to speak or walk, or help himself to food,
he can only implore relief by tears and wailing, so that from
this circumstance alone might be collected, that man is an animal
born for that love and friendship which is formed and cemented
by the mutual interchange of benevolent offices. Moreover, Na-
ture evidently intended that man should consider himself in-
debted for the boom of life, not so much to herself as to the
kindness of his fellow-man; that he might perceive himself
designed for social affections, and the attachments of friendship
and love. Then she gave him a countenance not frightful and
forbidding, but mild and placid, imitating by external signs the
besignity of his disposition. She gave him eyes full of affectionate
expression, the indexes of a mind delighting in social sympathy.
She gave him arms to embrace his fellow-creatures. She gave
him lips to express a union of heart and soul. She gave him alone
the power of laughing, a mark of the joy of which he is suscep-
tible. She gave him tears, the symbol of clemency and compas-
sion. She gave him also a voice, not a menacing and frightful
yell, but bland, soothing, and friendly. Not satisfied with these
marks of her peculiar favour, she bestowed on him alone the use
of speech and reason : a gift which tends more than any other to
conciliate and cherish benevolence, and a desire of rendering
mutual services; so that nothing among human creatures might
be done by violence. She implanted in man a hatred of solitude,
and a love of company. She sowed in his heart the seeds of every
benevolent affection; and thus rendered what is most salutary, at
the same time most agreeable. For what is more agreeable than a
5
friend; what so necessary 7 Indeed, if it were possible to conduct
life conveniently, without mutual intercourse, yet nothing could be
pleasant without a companion, unless man should have divested
himself of humanity, and degenerated to the rank of a wild beast.
Lastly, to man is given a spark of the divine mind, which stimu-
lates him without any hope of reward, and of his own free will,
to do good to all: for of God this is the most natural and appro-
priate attribute, to consult the good of all by disinterested bene-
ficence. If it were not so, how happens it that we feel an exqui-
site delight, when we find that any man has been preserved from
danger, injury, or destruction, by our offices or intervention?
Now view, with the eyes of your imagination, savage troops
of men, horrible in their very visages and voices; men clad in steel,
drawn up on every side in battle array, armed with weapons,
frightful in their crash and their very glitter; mark the horrid
murmur of the confused multitude, their threatening eye-balls,
the harsh jarring din of drums and clarions, the terrific sound of
the trumpet, the thunder of the cannon, a noise not less formi-
dable than the real thunder of heaven, and more hurtful, a mad
shout like that of the shrieks of Bedlamites, a furious onset, a
cruel butchering of each other l—See the slaughtered and the
slaughtering !—heaps of dead bodies, fields flowing with blood,
rivers reddened with human gore. It sometimes happens that a
brother falls by the hand of a brother, a kinsman upon his nearest
kindred, a friend upon his friend, who, while both are actuated
by this fit of insanity, plunges the sword into the heart of one
by whom he was never offended, not even by the word of his mouth !
So deep is the tragedy, that the bosom shudders even at the feeble
description of it, and the hand of humanity drops the pencil while
it paints the scene.
In the mean time, I pass over the corn fields trodden down,
peaceful cottages and rural mansions burnt to the ground, villages
and towns reduced to ashes, the cattle driven from their pasture,
innocent women violated, old men dragged into captivity, churches
defaced and demolished, every thing laid waste, a prey to robbery,
plunder, and violence
Not to mention the consequences which ensue to the people
after a war, even the most fortunate in its event; the poor, the
6
unoffending common people, robbed of their little hard-earned
property; the great laden with taxes: old people bereaved of
their children, more cruelly killed by the murder of their off-
spring, than by the sword; happier if the enemy had deprived
them of the sense of their misfortune, and life itself, at the same
moment; women far advanced in age, left destitute, and more
cruelly put to death, than if they had died at once by the point of
the bayonet: widowed mothers, orphan children, houses of mourn-
ing; and families, that once knew better days, reduced to extreme
penury.
Why need I dwell on the evils which morals sustain by war,
when every one knows, that from nar proceeds at once every kind of
evil which disturbs and destroys the happiness of human life.
As I just now drew the portrait of man and the picture of war,
so now it is my intention to compare war with peace, to compare
a state most poignant with misery, and most wicked in its origin,
with a state profuse of blessings, and contributing in the highest
degree to the happiness of human nature; it will then appear to
be downright insanity to go in search of war with so much dis-
turbance, so much labour, so great profusion of blood and trea-
sure, and at such a hazard after all, when with little labour, less
expense, no bloodshed, and no risk, peace might be preserved
inviolate.
Now, amidst all the good this world affords, what is more de-
lightful to the heart of man, what more beneficial to society, than
love and amity ? Nothing, surely. Yet what is peace, but love
and amity subsisting between great numbers ? And, on the other
hand, what is war, but hatred and enmity subsisting between
great numbers ? But it is the nature of all good, that the more
it is extended, the greater the good becomes, the more benign its
influence; therefore, if the amicable union of individuals is so
sweet and so salutary, how much will the sum total of happiness
be augmented, if kingdom with kingdom, and nation with na-
tion, coalesce in this amicable union ? On the other hand, it is
the nature of all evil, that its malignity increases the more it is
extended; and therefore, if it be wretched, if it be wicked for one
man to meet another with a sword pointed at his vitals, how
wouch more wretched and more wicked, that thousands and tens of
7
thousands should meet in the same manner 7 By union, little things
are augmented to a respectable magnitude; by disunion, the
greatest fall to insignificance and dissolution. Peace is, indeed,
at once the mother and the nurse of all that is good for man:
War, on a sudden, and at one stroke, overwhelms, extinguishes,
abolishes, whatever is cheerful, whatever is happy and beautiful,
and pours a foul torrent of disasters on the life of mortals. Peace
shines upon human affairs like the vernal sun. The fields are cul-
tivated, the gardens bloom, the cattle are fed upon a thousand
hills, new buildings arise, riches flow, pleasures smile, humanity
and charity increase, arts and manufactures feel the genial warmth
of encouragement, and the gains of the poor are more plentiful.
But no sooner does the storm of war begin to lower, than what a
deluge of miseries and misfortune seizes, inundates, and over-
whelms all things within the sphere of its action The flocks are
scattered, the harvest trampled, the husbandman butchered,
villas and villages burnt, cities and states, that have been ages
rising to their flourishing state, subverted by the fury of one tem-
pest, the storm of war. So much easier is the task of doing harm
than of doing good; of destroying than of building up !
Many, alas! are the evils by which miserable mortality is tor-
mented, worn out, and at last overwhelmed. We read of whole
cities buried in ruins by earthquakes, or burnt to ashes by light-
ning, whole countries swallowed up in chasms occasioned by
subterraneous convulsions ; not to mention how many men are
lost by casualties, which, by the frequency of their occurrence,
cease to surprise ; how many are drowned in seas and rivers, how
many destroyed by poison, by falling, by other accidents.
Why should those who are obnoxious to so many calamities,
go voluntarily in quest of an adscititious evil, as if the measure of
misery required to be full to the very brim, and to run over; in
quest of an evil, not a common evil, but an an evil of all human evils
the worst and the foulest; so destructive an evil, that alone, it ex-
ceeds them all in mischief; so abundant in misery, that it com-
prehends every kind of wretchedness within itself; so pestilential
in its nature, that it loads men with guilt in proportion as it galls
them with woe.
To these considerations add, that the advantages derived from
8
peace diffuse themselves far and wide, and reach great numbers
while in nar, if any thing turns out happily, (though wha
can ever deserve the appellation of happy in war !) the advan-
tage redounds only to a fen, and those unworthy of reaping it.
One man's safety is owing to the destruction of another. One
man's prize derived from the plunder of another. The cause
of rejoicings made by one side, is to the other a cause of mourn-
ing. Whatever is unfortunate in war, is severely so indeed, and
whatever, on the contrary, is called good fortune, is a savage and
a cruel good fortune, an ungenerous happiness, deriving its exist-
ence from another's woe. Indeed, at the conclusion, it com-
monly happens, that both sides, the victorious and the vanquished,
have cause to deplore. I know not whether any war ever suc-
ceeded so fortunately in all its events, but that the conqueror, if he
had a heart to feel, or an understanding to judge, as he ought to
do, repented that he ever engaged in it at all.
Such and so great are the evils which are submitted to, in
order to accomplish an end, itself a greater evil than all that have
preceded in preparation for it. We thus afflict ourselves for the
noble end of enabling ourselves to afflict others. If we were to
calculate the matter fairly, and form a just computation of the
cºst attending war, and that of procuring peace, we should find
that peace might be purchased at a tenth part of the cares, la-
bours, troubles, dangers, expenses, and blood, which it costs
to carry on a war. You lead a vast multitude of men into danger
of losing their lives, in order to demolish some great city; while
the same labour and fatigue of these very men would build, with-
out any danger, a more magnificent city, than the city doomed to
demolition. But the object is to do all possible injury to an
enemy. A most inhuman object, let me tell you! and consider,
whether you can hurt him, essentially, without hurting, at the
same time, and by the same means, your own people. It surely
is to act like a madman to take to yourself so large a portion of
certain evil, when it must ever be uncertain how the die of War
may fall in the ultimate issue.
Where are there so many and so sacred obligations to perfect
concord, as in the Christian religion? Where so numerous ex-
hortations to peace? One law Jesus Christ claimed as his own
º-
9
peculiar law, and it was the lan' of love or charity. What prac-
tice among mankind violates this law so grossly as war 7 Christ
salutes his votaries with the happy omen of peace. To his disciples
he gives nothing but peace: he leaves them no other legacy but
peace. In his holy prayers, the subject of his devout entreaty was
principally, that, as He was one with the Father, so his disciples,
(that is to say, all Christians,) might be one with him. This union
is something more than peace, more than friendship, more than
concord; it is an intimate communion with the Divine nature.
Solomon was a type of Christ. But the word Solomon, in
Hebrew, signifies the pacific. Solomon, on this account, because
he was pacific, was chosen to build the temple, David was re-
jected as a builder of the temple, because he was a warrior. He
was rejected for this, though the wars he carried on were against
the wicked and at the command of God; and though he, who
afterwards abrogated, in great measure, the laws of Moses, had
not yet taught mankind that they ought to love their enemies.
At the nativity of Jesus Christ, the angels sung not the glories
of war, nor a sung of triumph, but a hymn of peace: “Glory to
God in the highest, on earth PEACE ; good will towards men.”
The mystic poet and prophet foretold before his birth, (Ps. lxxvi. 2.)
“In the cITY of PEACE (Salem) he made his dwelling-place :
there brake he the arrows of the bow, the shield, the sword, and
the battle-axe.”
“He shall refrain the spirit of Princes; he is terrible to the
Kings of the earth.”
Examine every part of his doctrine, you will find nothing that
does not breathe peace, speak the language of love, and savour of
charity; and as he knew that peace could not be preserved unless
those objects, for which the world contends with the sword's
point, were considered as vile and contemptible, he ordered us to
learn of him to be meek and lowly. He pronounced those happy
who held riches, and the daughters of riches, Pomp and Pride, in
no esteem; for these he calls the poor in spirit, and these he has
blessed. He prohibited resistance of evil. In short, as the
whole of his doctrine recommended forbearance and love, so his
life taught nothing but mildness, gentleness, and kind afféction.
Such was his reign; thus did he wage war, thus he conquered
i{}
and thus he triumphed. Nor do the apostles inculcate any other
doctrine; they who had imbibed the purest spirit of Christ, and
were filled with sacred draughts from the fountain head. What
do all the epistles of St. Paul resound with but PEACE, but long-
suffering, but charity ? What does St. John speak of, and repeat
continually, but Christian love : What else St. Peter: What else
all the writers in the world, who are truly Christian?
Whence, then, the tumults of war among the Children of Peace?
Is it a mere fable when Christ calls himself the vine, and his dis-
ciples the branches 7 Who can conceive a branch divided against
a branch of the same tree? Or, is it an unmeaning assertion,
which St. Paul has repeatedly made, that the Church is one body,
united in its many members, and adhering to one head, Jesus
Christ? Whoever beheld the eye contending with the hand, or
the belly fighting against the foot ? In the whole universe, con-
sisting of parts so discordant, there still continues a general har-
mony. In the animal body, there is peace among all the members,
and with whatever excellence one member is endowed, it confines
not the benefit to itself, but communicates it to all. If any evil
happen to one member, the whole body affords it assistance. Can
then the mere animal connexion of nature, in a material body,
formed soon to perish, effect more in preserving harmony than the
union of a spirit in a mystical and immortal body ? Is it without
meaning that we pray, according to the command of Christ, Thy
will be done on earth, as it is in heaven? In the Kingdom of
Heaven there is perfect concord. But Christ intended that his
Church should be nothing less than a Celestial Community; a
Heaven upon Earth; men who belong to it living, as much as
possible, according to the model of the heavenly kingdom, hasten-
ing thither, and feeling and acknowledging their whole dependance
upon it for present and future felicity.
It may now be worth while to observe in what manner Christians
defend the madness of War.
If, say they, war had been absolutely unlawful, God would not
have excited the Jews to wage war against their enemies. I hear
the argument, and observe upon it, that the objector should in
justice add, that the Jews scarcely ever waged war, as the Chris-
| 1
tians do, against each other, but against aliens and infidels. We
Christians draw the sword against Christians. To them a diffe-
rence of religion, and the worship of strange gods, was the source
of contest. We are urged to war, either by childish anger, or a
hunger and thirst for ricnes and glory, and oftentimes merely for
base and filthy lucre. They fought at the express command of
God; we, at the command of our own passions.
But since the time that Jesus Christ said, Put up thy sword
into its scabbard, Christians ought not to go to war, unless it be
in that most honourable warfare, with the vilest enemies of the
Church, the inordinate love of money, anger, and ambition.
These are our Philistines, these our Nabuchodonosors, these our
Moabites and Ammonites, with whom we ought never to make a
truce ; with these we must engage without intermission till the
enemy being utterly extirpated, peace may be firmly established.
Unless we subdue such enemies as these, we can neither have
peace with ourselves, nor peace with any one else. This is the
only nar mhich tends to produce a real and a lasting peace. He,
who shall have conquered foes like these, will never wish to wage
war with any mortal man upon the face of that earth on which
God placed all men to live, to let live, and to enjoy the life he gave.
I lay no stress on the opinion of those who interpret the two
swords given to Peter to mean two powers, the civil and eccle-
siastical, claimed by the successors of Peter, since Christ suffered
Peter himself to fall into an error in this matter, on purpose
that, when he had put up his sword, it might remain no longer a
doubt that war was prohibited ; which, before that order, had
been considered as allowable. But Peter, they allege, did
actually use his sword. It is true he did ; but while he was still a
Jew, and had not yet received the genuine spirit of Christianity.
He used his sword, not in support of any disputable claim to pro-
perty, not to defend goods, chattels, lands, and estates, as we
do ; nor yet for his own life, but for the life of his Lord and
Master. Let it also be remembered, that he who used the sword in
defence of his Master, very soon after denied and renounced that
Master. If Peter is to be our model, and if we are so much
pleased with the example of Peter fighting for Christ, we may pro-
bably approve also the example of Peter denying Christ.
12
Peter, in using his sword, only made a slip in consequence of
the impulse of a sudden passion: yet he was reprimanded. But
if Christ approved of this mode of defence, as some most absurdly
infer from this transaction, how happens it that the uniform tenour
of his whole life and doctrine teaches nothing else but forbearance 7
Why, when he commissioned his disciples, did he expose them to
the despots of the world, armed only with a walking-stick and a
wallet, a staff and a scrip ! If by that sword, which Christ ordered
them, after selling every thing else, to buy, is meant a moderate
defence against persecution, as some men ignorantly interpret it,
how cance it to pass that the Martyrs never used it !
But they urge, that the laws of nature, the laws of society, and
the laws of custom and usage, conspire in dictating the propriety
of repelling force by force, and defending life, and money too,
which is to some persons as dear as life. So much I allow. But
Gospel Grace, of more force than all these laws, declares in deci-
sive words, that those who revile us, we must not revile again :
that we must do good to them who use us ill; and that we should
also pray for them who design to take away our lives. All this,
they tell us, had a particular reference to the apostles; but I con-
tend that it also refers to all Christian people, to the whole body
which should be entire and perfect, though one member may have
been formerly distinguished by some particular pre-eminence.
The doctrine of Christ, can, indeed, have no reference to them,
who do not expect their reward with Christ.
But they proceed to argue, that as it is lawful to inflict
punishment on an individual delinquent, it must also be lawful to
take vengeance on an offending State. The full answer to be
given to this argument would involve me in greater prolixity
than is now requisite. I will only say that the two cases differ
widely in this respect. He who is convicted judicially, suffers
the punishment which the lan's impose: but in war, each side
treats the other side as guilty, and proceeds to inflict punish-
ment, regardless of law, judge, or jury. In the former case, the
evil only falls on him who committed the wrong; the benefit of
the example redounds to all : in the latter case, the greatest part
of the very numerous evils falls on those who deserve no evil at
all ; on husbandmen, on old people, on mothers of families, on
I 3
orphans, and on defenceless young females. But if any good at
all can be gathered from a thing which is itself the worst of all
things, the whole of that good devolves to the share of a few
most plofligate robbers, to the mercenary pillager, to the pira-
tical privateer. It would be better to let the crime of a few go
unpunished, than, while we endeavour to chastise one or two by
war, in which, perhaps we may not succeed, to involve our own
people, the neighbouring people, and the innocent part of the
enemies, (for so I may call the multitude,) in certain calamity.
It is better to let a wound alone which cannot be healed without
injury to the whole body. But if any one should exclaim, “that
it would be unjust that he who has offended should not suffer con-
dign punishment;” I answer, that it is much more unjust that so
many thousand innocent persons should be called to share the
utmost extremity of misfortune, which they could not possibly have
deserved.
But the objector repeats, “Why may I not go and cut the
throats of those who would cut our throats if they could 7” Do
you then consider it as a disgrace that any should be more wicked
than yourself? Why do you not go and rob thieves? they would
rob you if they could. Why do you not revile them that revile you?
Why do you not hate them that hate you ?
Do you consider it as a noble exploit for a Christian, having
killed in war those whom he thinks wicked, but who still are
men, for whom Christ died, thus to offer up victims most acceptable
to the Devil, and to delight that grand enemy in two instances;
first, that a* man is slain at all ; and secondly, that the man who
slew him is a Christian?
If we are willing to conquer for Christ, let us buckle on the
sword of the Gospel; let us put on the helmet of salvation, grasp
the shield of faith, and be completely clad in apostolical armour,
the panoply of heaven. Then will it come to pass, that we shall
triumph even in defeat, and when routed in the field, still bear
away the palm of a most glorious victory. If we endeavour to be
what we are called, that is, to be violently attached to nothing
worldly, to seek nothing here with too anxious a solicitude; if
we endeavour to free ourselves from all that may encumber and
impede our flight to heaven ; if we aspire with our most ardent
i4
wishes at celestial felicity; if we place our chief happiness in
Christ alone;—we have certainly, in so doing, made up our
minds to believe, that whatever is truly good, truly great, truly
delightful, is to be found in his religion. If we are convinced
that a good man cannot be essentially hurt by any mortal; if we
have duly estimated the vanity and transitory duration of all the
ridiculous things which agitate human beings; if we have any ade-
quate idea of being so cleansed, by continual meditation, from the
pollutions of this world, that when the body is laid down in the
dust one may emigrate to the society of angels: in a word, if we
exhibit these three qualities, without which no man can deserve
the appellation of a Christian : Innocence, that we may be free from
vice; Charity, that we may deserve well of all men; Patience,
that we may bear with those that use us ill, and, if possible, bury
injuries by an accumulation of benefits on the injured party ; I ask,
what war can possibly arise hereafter for any trifles which the
world contains 7
If the Christian religion be a fable, why do we not honestly
and openly explode it ! Why do we glory and take a pride in
its name? But if Christ is “ the way, and the truth, and the life,”
why do all our schemes of life and plans of conduct deviate so
from this great Exemplar ! If we acknowledge Christ to be our
Lord and Master, who is love itself, and who taught nothing but
love and peace, let us exhibit his model; not by assuming his
name, but by our lives and conversation. Let us adopt the love of
peace, that Christ may recognize his own, even as we recognise him
to be the Teacher of Peace.
i 5
Eatract from a Letter addressed by Erasmus to Francis
the First, King of France, anno 1523.
WHAT can be frailer, more transitory, more exposed to misery,
than human life 2 I dwell not on the great variety of diseases,
disasters, accidents, fatal calamities, pestilential sicknesses, light-
ning, earthquakes, conflagrations, inundations, and other evils
which overwhelm it without limit and without number. Yet,
among all the miseries by which man is infested, there is not one
more malignant, more mischievous than War; not one that, like
War, does more harm to the morals of men, than even to their
property and persons. It is, indeed, a less injury to deprive me of
my life than of my innocence. Nor is war at all the less detest-
able, because the greatest portion of its evils falls on the poor and
low ; on the farmer, on the manufacturer, or the wayfaring man.
Our Lord Jesus Christ shed his blood for the redemption of these
men, despised as they are, no less than for the redemption of
Kings. And when we shall stand before the judgment-seat of
Christ, where the most powerful Lords of this world must shortly
stand, that impartial Judge will require a no less strict account to
be given of those poor and despised ones, than of Despots and
Grandees. Therefore they who deem it a trifling loss and injury
when the poor and the low are robbed, afflicted, banished, burnt
out, oppressed or put to death, do in truth accuse Jesus Christ
(the wisdom of the Father) of folly, for shedding his blood to save
such wretches as these.
Christ, throughout his whole life, displayed the character of a
Saviour, a Comforter, a universal Benefactor. Whether in the
temple or the synagogue, whether in public or in private, whether
in a ship or in the wilderness, he taught the multitude, he healed
the sick, he cleansed the lepers, he restored the paralytic, the
lame, the blind; he expelled evil spirits, he raised the dead, he
delivered those that were in jeopardy; he fed the hungry; he re-
futed the Pharisees ; he took the part of the disciples, of the poor
sinful creature who so lavishly poured out her ointment; he even
comforted the guilty and unhappy woman of Canaan, who was
detected in the commission of her crime. Review the whole life
16
of Jesus; he never did evil to any mortal, though he was himself
used so ill, and if he had chosen it, might have revenged himself
so amply. He was uniformly the Saviour and the Benefactor. To
Malchus he restored the ear which Peter had cut off. He would
not suffer his own personal safety to be secured, even by so trifling
an injury as that which was done to Malchus. Suspended on the
cross, he saved one of the thieves that were crucified with him.
After his death he brought over the Centurion to the Christian
faith. This was supporting the character of a King, truly so called
–To do good to all, and injury to none.
R. Clay, Printer, 7, bread street. Hiſ , Cheapside.
Tract No. V. of the Society for the Promotion of
Permanent and Universal Peace.
SKETCHES
OF THE
H O R. R O R S OF WA R,
cHIEFLY selected from
LABA UME'S NARRA TIVE ,
OF THE
CAMPAIGN IN RUSSIA,
IN 1812.
TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH, WITH SOME OBSERVATIONS.
—Q–
BY EVAN REES.
“Whence come wars and fightings among you? Come they not hence, even of your
lasts which war in your members?” James iv. 1.
* A good tree cannot bring förth evil fruit; neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good
fruit. • * • .
“Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them.” Matthew vii. 18–20.
STEREOTYPE EDITION,
%,0ttiyott :
PRINTED BY R. CLAY, BREAD-STREET-HILL;
SOLD BY
HAMILTON, ADAMS, & CO. PATE R N OSTER, R O W ;
BY ALL OTHER BOOKSELLERs ; AND
AT THE DEPOSITORY, STAR COURT, BREAK streeT, CHEAPSIDE.
1832.
Price 2d.
The object of THE SOCIETY for the PROMOTION
of PERMANENT and UNIVERSAL PEACE, is to
print and circulate Tracts, and to diffuse information tend-
ing to shew that War is inconsistent with the spirit of
Christianity, and the true interests of mankind; and to
point out the means best calculated to maintain Permanent
and Universal Peace, upon the basis of Christian Principles.
Its labours are not limited by Local attachments, nor cir-
cumscribed by Geographical Boundaries, but extend to the
whole human race.
RoBERT MARSDEN, Esq. Chairman.
SAMUEL GURNEY, Esq. Treasurer.
Rev. JAMES HARGREAves, Honorary Home Secretary.
Rev. THOMAS Wood, Honorary Foreign Secretary.
John BEVANS, Assistant Secretary and Collector.
*** It is requested that all Communications may be for-
warded to the respective Officers of the PEACE SocIETY,
directed to the DEPository, Star Court, Bread Street,
Cheapside.
SKETCHES
OF THE
HORRORS OF WAR.
DURING an eventful period of twenty-five years of nearly un-
remitting warfare, every nation of the civilized world has been
involved in the contest, and each has, in turn, shared in its
miseries, or groaned beneath its burdens. On some of those
countries which have been the theatre of combat, the storm has
burst with the fury of a volcanic eruption; whole provinces,
systematically devoted to destruction, have exhibited a scene of
extended havock, that has left few vestiges of civilization; in a
few fleeting moments, flourishing cities have been reduced into
a heap of smoking ruins; and the fields of Europe have been
stained with the blood of millions.
These are the genuine effects of war; and if it be true, that
“the tree is known by its fruit,” we shall not be at a loss to
determine the origin of this unchristian practice.
The character and achievements of the warrior, have ever
been the favourite themes of the historian's narrative, and the
poet's song. The sufferings of the wounded are lost in the ani-
mated description of the pomp of battle; the tears of the widow
and the orphan are unnoticed in the enumeration of its ideal glories
All the powers of language, and every embellishment of style,
have been lavished to immortalize the soldier's fame—to veil the
hideous deformity of war—to give perpetuity to deeds of de-
struction—and to transform the destroyer of man into the most
exalted of the human race. War is represented as the field on
which the noblest energies of man are displayed; but to form a
just conception of its nature we must view it in its characteristic
abominations, not through the delusive medium by which it is
invested with an alluring and baneful splendour. The sensation
created by the atrocities of one midnight assassin,” is fresh in
*
* The murders at Ratcliffe, in the year 1811,
4
every recollection; consternation reigned in the metropolis, and
pervaded the whole kingdom ; but when the intelligence was
received of the untimely death of thousands, far different was the
feeling; brilliant illuminations dispelled the darkness of night
and our streets resounded with the acclamations of unhallowed
triumph. The injury sustained by the vanquished, will be found
to regulate the demonstrations of public joy. If they have lost
their thousands, it will call forth general congratulation; if tens
of thousands have perished in the fight, it will kindle a transport
of delirious exultation. But to rejoice in the calamities of our
fellow men, must surely be inhuman, and ungenerous; it must
tend to vitiate the understanding, and to render the heart callous
to the finest feelings of humanity.
In attempting to pourtray war in its true colours, we are aware
that no description can convey an adequate impression of its hor-
rors; and that no imagination can conceive the full extent of its
attendant evils. The Narrative of Labaume, from which the fol-
lowing extracts are principally selected, is acknowledged to be
the best, and most authentic account of the Russian Campaign.”
The author was attached to the staff of the fourth corps of the
French army, commanded by Prince Eugene Beauharnois, and
was an eye-witness of the miseries which he has related with so
much feeling. In his preface, he says, “It was by the light of
the burning of Moscow that I described the pillage of that city:
It was on the banks of the Berezina that I traced the narrative o-
that fatal passage. It is scarcely possible to conceive the diffi-
culties that I had to surmount, in order to make my memo-
randums. Compelled, like my companions in arms, to struggle
with the most imperious necessity; benumbed with cold, and
tormented with hunger, I was a prey to every kind of suffering.
Uncertain, at the rising of the sun, whether I should see his
setting rays, and in the evening, doubtful of witnessing another
day, every thought seemed absorbed by the desire of living, to
preserve the remembrance of what I had seen. Animated by this
* The extracts are translated from the “Relation Circonstanciée de la Cam-
oagne en Russie, en 1312. Par Eugéne Labaume, Chef d'Escadron, Chevalier
de la Legion d'Honneur, &c. 4me Edition Paris, Février 1815.”
5
inexpressible feeling, I wrote the events of the day every evening,
before a bad fire, under a temperature from 20 to 22 degrees
below the freezing point, and surrounded by the dying and the
dead. I made my pens from the quills of the raven, with the
same knife that I used in cutting up the horse-flesh for my food;
a little gunpowder, mixed up in the hollow of my hand with
melted snow, supplied the place of ink and inkstand.”
The Spring of 1812 was employed by the French and Russians
in the increase of their military strength, and whilst Napoleon
assembled his legions on the frontiers of Poland, Russia collected
all her resources, to await the impending conflict. The French
army was composed of six IIUNDRED AND EIGHTY THousAND
MEN, AND ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-SIX THOUSAND HORSEs.
If we deduct the Austrian corps, with the troops in garrison and
reserve, its effective strength may have amounted to 400,000
infantry, 60,000 cavalry, and 1200 pieces of atillery.” On the
return of the French Ambassador from St. Petersburgh, Napoleon
issued a proclamation from Wilkowiski, dated June 22, 1812, in
which he announced the commencement of the second Polish
war, and immediately took the field at the head of his army. The
passage of the Niemen was effected on the 24th, and on the 25th
they reached Wilna. In their retreat, the Russians carried off the
inhabitants with their cattle, destroyed the corn and forage, laid
waste the country, and burnt the towns and villages, in order to
deprive their invaders of every means of subsistence and shelter.
Aug. 19. SMoDENSK.—After an obstinate battle, the Russians
set fire to the city, and retreated, leaving the streets and squares
covered with their dead and wounded. Labaume thus describes
his entrance on the following day: “We entered Smolensk by
the suburb on the bank of the river, marching in every direction
over ruins and dead bodies. The palaces still burning pre-
sented to our view only walls cleft by the heat: amidst their
smoking ashes lay the blackened carcasses of the inhabitants who
had perished in the flames. The soldiers had taken possession
* By a statement in the Quarterly Review, on the authority of a Westphalian
officer, it would appear that the effective force was 494,000.
6
of the few remaining houses, whilst the proprietor, bereft of an
asylum, stood at his door, weeping the death of his children,
and the loss of his fortune. The churches alone afforded some
consolation to the wretched beings who had no longer a shelter.
The cathedral, celebrated throughout Europe, and highly vene-
rated by the Russians, became the refuge of those who had
escaped the conflagration. In this church, and round its altars,
lay whole families stretched upon rags. Here, we saw an old
man, expiring, cast his last look towards the image of the Saint
whom he had all his life invoked; there, a mother, weighed
down by adversity, as she gave the breast to an infant, bathed
it in her tears.
“In the midst of this desolation, the passage of the army
into the interior of the city offered a striking contrast: on one
side was seen the abject submission of the conquered; on the
other the pride attendant on victory. Those had lost their all;
the victors, rich in spoils, and strangers to defeat, marched
haughtily to the sound of martial music, at once impressing with
fear and admiration the unhappy residue of a vanquished popu-
lation.” P. 100.
Sept. 5th. BoroDINo.—A redoubt on the left of the Russian
position was taken by storm. “This important position was
purchased with the blood of one thousand of our men, more
than one half of whom were left dead in the entrenchments they
had so gloriously carried. The next day the Emperor, passing in
review the 61st regiment, which had suffered the most, asked
the colonel, what he had dome with one of his battalions 7
* Sire,' replied he, “it is in the redoubt.” P. 131.
“This affair was the prelude to a more dreadful combat.
Sept. 7th. Before day-break the two armies were drawn up in
order of battle. Tno hundred and sixty thousand men waited, in
awful suspense, the signal to engage. At six o'clock, the thun-
der of the artillery broke the dreadful silence. The battle soon
became general, and raged with tremendous fury. The fire of
200 pieces of cannon enveloped the two armies in smoke, and
mowing down whole battalions, strewed the field with the dead
and wounded. The latter fell to expose themselves to a death still
more terrible, and to accumulated sufferings. How agonizing was
7
their situation Forty thousand dragoons, crossing the field in
every direction, trampled them under the feet, and dyed their
horses' hoofs in blood. The flying artillery, in rapid and alternate
advance and retreat, put a period to the anguish of some, and in-
flicted new torments on others, who were mangled by their wheels.”
A redoubt in the centre of the Russian army was several times
taken and retaken with desperate slaughter, and finally remained
in possession of the French. “The interior of the redoubt pre-
sented a frightful scene; the dead were heaped on each other,
and amongst them were many wounded, whose cries could not
be heard. Arms of all descriptions were strewed over the
ground; the battlements of the half destroyed parapets were
razed, and the situation of the embrasures was only discovered
by the cannon, the greater part of which were overturned and
detached from their broken carriages.” P. 146.
The 'night separated the combatants and put a stop to the
destructive carnage. On this disastrous day, ever memorable in
the annals of slaughter, EIGHTY THousAND MEN were sacrificed
at the shrine of mad ambition ſº
Sept. 8th. —“In traversing the elevated plain on which we
had fought, we were enabled to form an estimate of the immense
loss that had been sustained by the Russians. A surface of about
nine square miles in extent, was covered with the killed and
wounded; with the wreck of arms, lances, helmets, and cuirasses,
and with balls as numerous as hail-stones after a violent storm.
In many places the bursting of shells had overturned men and
horses; and such was the havock occasioned by repeated dis-
charges, that mountains of dead bodies were raised. But the most
dreadful spectacle was the interior of the ravines, where the
wounded had instinctively crawled to avoid the shot; here these
unfortunate wretches, lying one upon another, destitute of as-
sistance, and weltering in their blood, uttered the most horrid
groans. Loudly invoking death, they besought us to put an end
to their excruciating torments. As our medical means of relief
• The horses which lay on the ground from right to left, numbered full 25,000
–Narrative of the Campaign in Russia by Sir R. K. Porter. Second Edition
(London, 1814,) p. 151.
8
were insufficient, our fruitless compassion could only lament the
calamities inseparable frómia, war so atrocious.” P. 153.
Sept. 9th-‘‘ As, we drew, near Rouza we met a great number
of carts brought back by the cavalry. . It was afflicting to see
them, loaded, with children, and with the aged and infirm. We
were, grieved to think how soon the horses and carts, which
formed the whole fortune of these ruined families, would be
divided amongst the troops.”
“In our advance to the centre of the town, we saw a crowd
of soldiers who were pillaging the houses, regardless of the cries
of those, to whom they belonged, or of the tears of mothers,
who, to soften the hearts of their conquerors, showed them their
children on their knees; these innocents, with their hands
clasped, and bathed in tears, asked only that their lives might
be spared. This rage for plunder was justifiable in some, who,
dying with hunger, were only seeking to procure themselves
food; but many others, under this pretext, plundered every
thing, and even robbed the women and children of the clothes
that covered them.” P. 159.
“We could judge of the consternation that reigned in the
capital, by the terror with which we had inspired the peasantry.
No sooner were they informed of our arrival at Rouza, and of the
barbarous manner in which we had treated the inhabitants, than
all the villages on the road to Moscow were instantly abandoned;
many of the fugitives, driven to desperation, set fire to their
houses, their country seats, and to the corn and hay just gathered
in. 'Discouraged by the fatal and useless resistance of the militia
of Rouza, the greater part of them threw down the pikes with
which they had been armed, and hastened to conceal themselves,
with their wives and children, in thick forests at a distance from
our route." P. 164.
Sept. 15, Moscow.—“At day-break, our corps left the village,
where it had encamped, and marched upon Moscow. As we
drew near the city, we observed that it had no walls, and that a
simple parapet of earth, was the only work which formed the
outer enclosure. We had hitherto seen nothing to indicate that
the capital was inhabited, and the road by which we arrived was so
9
deserted, that we did not see a single Muscovite, nor even a
French soldier. No noise, no cry, was heard amidst this im-
posing solitude; anxiety alone guided our footsteps, which was
redoubled when we perceived a column of thick smoke rising
from the centre of the city. At first, we imagined that it only
proceeded from some magazines, to which the Russians, as usual,
had set fire in their retreat. Eager to know the cause of this
conflagration, we sought in vain for some one who could tran-
quillize our restless curiosity; but the impossibility of satisfying it,
redoubled our impatience, and increased our alarm.” P. 194.
“Moscow was so extensive and depopulated, that notwith-
standing the city had been in the possession of our troops since
the preceding evening, we found neither soldiers nor inhabitants
in the part which we were to occupy. A death-like silence
reigned in the forsaken quarters: the most intrepid were inti-
midated by the loneliness. The streets were so long, that our
cavalry could not recognize each other at the opposite extremi-
ties. Uncertain whether they were friends or enemies, they
advanced slowly, then, seized with fear, fled from each other,
though under the same standards. As we took possession of a
new quarter, parties were sent forward to reconnoitre, and to
examine the palaces and churches; in the latter the altars were
decorated as on a day of festival; in the former, they only found
old men and children, or Russian officers who had been wounded
in the preceding engagements.” . . . . . . “We marched with
timid steps through this dismal solitude, often stopping to look
behind us; for our imaginations, overpowered by the magnitude
of our conquest, made us every where apprehensive of treachery.
Sometimes we listened attentively, and at the least noise, fancied
that we heard the din of arms, or the shouts of combatants.” P. 196.
In conformity with the desolating plan of the campaign, the
ruin of the ancient capital of the Czars had been determined.
The criminals confined in the different prisons received their
liberty on condition of setting fire to the city, as soon as it should
be in the possession of the French army. In order to insure its
destruction, the engines, and every means by which the fire might
have been extinguished, were removed or destroyed. The Ex-
change was the first building that fell a prey to the flames. The
10
stores contained an immense quantity of the most valuable com-
modities of Europe and Asia; the cellars were filled with sugar,
oils, and resin, which burnt with great fury. The French en-
deavoured to check the progress of the devouring element, but
they soon discovered that their efforts were useless. The fire
breaking out in different quarters of the city, and increased by a
high wind, spread with dreadful rapidity. “So great a calamity
impressed even the most hardened minds with the presentiment,
that the wrath of Divine justice would one day fall on the first
authors of this frightful devastation.” P. 200.
“A great part of the population had concealed themselves
in their houses, from the terror caused by our arrival; but
they left them as the flames reached their asylums. Fear had
rendered their grief dumb, and as they tremblingly quitted
their retreats, they carried off their most valuable effects,
whilst those who were possessed of more sensibility, actuated
by natural feelings, sought only to save the lives of their pa-
rents, or their children. On one side we saw a son carry-
ing a sick father; on the other, women who poured the torrent
of their tears on the infants whom they clasped in their arms.
They were followed by the rest of their children, who, fear-
ful of being lost, ran crying after their mothers. Old men,
overwhelmed more by grief than by the weight of years, were
seldom able to follow their families; many of them, weeping for
the ruin of the country, laid down to die, near the houses where
they were born. The streets, the public squares, and especially
the churches, were crowded with these unhappy persons, who
mourned as they lay on the remains of their property, but shewed
no signs of despair. The victors and the vanquished were become
equally brutish; the former by excess of fortune, the latter by
excess of misery.” P. 209.
“The hospitals, containing more than Twelve THousAND
wounBED, began to burn. The heart, frozen with horror, recoils
at the fatal disaster which ensued. Almost all these wretched
victims perished. The few who were still living, were seen
crawling, half burnt, under the smoking ashes, or groaning under
the heaps of dead bodies, making ineffectual efforts to extricate
themselves!”
ll
“It is impossible to depict the confusion and tumult that
ensued, when the whole of this immense city was given up to pil-
lage. Soldiers, sutlers, galley-slaves, and prostitutes, ran through
the streets, penetrated the deserted palaces, and carried off every
thing that could gratify their insatiable desire.” P. 211.
“The generals received orders to quit Moscow. The soldiers
being no longer restrained by that awe which is always inspired
by the presence of their chiefs, gave themselves up to every excess,
and to the most unbridled licentiousness. No retreat was safe,
no place was sufficiently sacred, to secure it from their rapacious
search. To all the excesses of lust, were added the highest de-
pravity and debauchery. No respect was paid to the nobility of
blood, the innocence of youth, or to the tears of beauty. This
cruel licentiousness was the consequence of a savage war, in
which sixteen united nations, differing in language and manners,
thought themselves at liberty to commit every crime, in the per-
suasion that their disorders would be attributed to one nation
alone.” P. 213.
“Dismayed by so many calamities, I hoped that the shades of
night would veil the dreadful scene; but darkness, on the con-
trary, rendered the conflagration more terrible. The flames, which
extended from north to south, burst forth with greater violence,
and agitated by the wind, seemed to reach the sky. Clouds of
smoke marked the track of the rockets that were hurled by the
incendiary criminals from the tops of the steeples, and which, at
a distance, resembled falling stars. But nothing was so terrific
as the dread that reigned in every mind, and which was heightened
in the dead of the night by the shrieks of the unfortunate crea-
tures who were massacred, or by the cries of young females, who
fled for refuge to the palpitating bosoms of their mothers, and
whose ineffectual struggles only served to inflame the passions of
their violators. To these heart-piercing groans were added the
howlings of the dogs that were chained to the gates of the palaces,
according to the custom at Moscow, and were unable to escape
the flames that surrounded them.” P. 214.
“Many of our soldiers fell victims to their own rapacity, which
induced them, heedless of the extreme risk, to brave every danger:
excited by the love of plunder, they rushed into the midst of the
I 2
fire and smoke; they waded in blood, trampling on the dead bo-
dies, whilst the ruins and pieces of burning wood fell upon their
murderous hands. Perhaps all would have perished had not the
msupportable heat at length compelled them to take refuge in
their camp.” P. 218.
Sept. 17. —The 4th corps were ordered to take up their quarters
at the castle of Peterskoe. On their march they overtook crowds
of the inhabitants carrying off their infirm parents, with all they
had rescued from their burning houses. Their horses having
been taken from them by the troops, “ men, and even women,
were harnessed to the carts,” which contained the wrecks of their
property, and the dearest objects of their affection. “ These in-
teresting groups were accompanied by children, who were nearly
naked, and whose countenances were imprinted with a sorrow
uncongenial to their age. If the soldiers approached them, they
ran crying to throw themselves into their mothers' arms. What
abode could be offered them that would not continually recall the
object of their terror ? Without assistance or shelter, they
wandered in the fields, or took refuge in the woods, but where-
ever they turned they met the conquerors of Moscow, who
often ill-treated them, and sold before their eyes the goods which
they had stolen from their houses.” P. 219.
Oct. 18.-On' the evening of this day the order for the retreat
was given, in consequence of the surprise of a part of the French
army at Taroutina with severe loss; and on the 22d, Moscow
was completely evacuated. On the 24th, the Russians attacked the
4th corps, which was posted at Malo Jaroslavetz. The battle be-
gan at four o'clock in the morning, and lasted till nine at night.
Oct. 25.-" The town in which we had fought was no longer
standing, and we could only discover the line of the streets by the
numerous dead bodies with which they were strewed. On all
* “ The French troops, as they poured into the devoted city, had spread them-
selves in every direction in search of plunder, and in their progress they com-
mitted outrages so horrid on the persons of all whom they discovered, that fathers,
desperate to save their children from pollution, would set fire to their places of
refuge, and find a surer asylum in the flames. The streets, the houses, the cellars
flowed with blood, and were filled with violation and carnage.”—Porter’s Narra-
tive, p. 170.
13
sides we saw human heads and scattered limbs crushed by the
artillery that had been manoeuvred over them. Many of the sick
and wounded had quitted the fight to take refuge in the houses,
which were now reduced to heaps of ruins, and under the burning
ashes appeared their half consumed remains. The few who had
escaped the flames, having their faces blackened, and their clothes
and hair burnt, presented themselves before us, and in an expiring
tone uttered cries of the deepest anguish. On seeing them, the
most ferocious were moved with compassion, and turning away
their eyes, could not refrain from tears.” P. 262.
Oct. 30.—“As we advanced, the country appeared yet more
desolate; the fields, trampled by thousands of horses, seemed as
though they had never been cultivated; the forests, thinned by
the long residence of the troops, partook of the devastation.
But the most horrible sight was the multitude of dead bodies,
which had been fifty-two days unburied, and scarcely retained the
human form. My consternation was at its height on finding,
near Borodino, the 20,000 men who had been slaughtered there,
lying where they fell. The half-buried carcasses of men and
horses covered the plain, intermingled with garments stained
with blood, and bones gnawed by the dogs and birds of prey,
and with the fragments of arms, drums, helmets, and cuirasses.”
P. 276. -
“As we were marching over the field of battle, we heard at a
distance a pitiable object, who demanded our assistance. Touched
by his plaintive cries, many of the soldiers drew near the spot,
when, to their great astonishment, they observed a French soldier
stretched on the ground, with both his legs broken: ‘I was
wounded,” said he, “on the day of the great battle, and finding
myself in a lonely place, where I could gain no assistance, I
dragged myself to the brink of a rivulet, and have lived near two
months on grass and roots, and on some pieces of bread which I
found amongst the dead bodies. At night I have lain in the
carcasses of dead horses, and with the flesh of these animals have
dressed my wounds, as well as with the best medicines. Having
observed you at a distance, I collected all my strength, and have
advanced sufficiently near to make myself heard.’ Whilst we
expressed our surprise at the event, a General, who was made
14
acquainted with a case, as singular as it was affecting, ordered
him to be placed in his own carriage.” P. 277.
“Were I to relate all the calamities that sprung from this
atrocious war, my narration would be too long; but if I wished
from one instance to convey an idea of the rest, it would be from
that of the 3000 prisoners we brought from Moscow. During
the march, having no provisions to give them, they were herded
together like beasts, and were not allowed on any pretext to quit
the narrow limits assigned them. Without fire, perishing with
cold, they lay on the bare ice; to appease their ravenous hunger,
they seized with avidity the horse-flesh which was distributed to
them, and for want of time and means to dress it, ate it quite
raw ; and I have been assured, though I dare not believe it,
that when this supply failed, many of them ate the flesh of their
comrades, who had sunk under their miseries.” P. 278.
Whilst the retreating army drank the cup of unmingled gall,
its course was marked by the outrages of unrestrained cruelty
and vindictive rage. The first division, on leaving the quarters
where they had slept the preceding night, generally consigned
them to the flames, as well as the towns and villages through
which they passed, equally regardless of the sufferings of the in-
habitants, or of their following countrymen, who were thus de-
prived of shelter. The few houses that escaped their ravages
were burnt by the second division, who completed what their com-
rades had left unfinished in the work of devastation. In the ruins
were entombed soldiers and peasants, children wantonly murdered,
and young girls massacred on the spot where they had been
violated. Boundless destruction was the word of command, and
such was the obedience paid to the order, that the Abbey of
Kolotskoi, about 150 miles from Moscow, was the only building
in that distance that was left undemolished. Stripped of its for-
mer splendour, and crowded with the sick and wounded, it re-
sembled a hospital rather than a convent.
Nov. 6th.—“We marched towards Smolensk with an ardour
that redoubled our strength, and had nearly reached Doroghoboui,
which is only twenty leagues from it, when the thought alone, that
in three days we should arrive there, excited a general intoxica-
tion of joy. The atmosphere, which till then had been brilliant,
15
was suddenly covered with cold and dark vapours; the sun, con-
cealed by thick clouds, disappeared from our sight, and the snow
falling in large flakes, involved every object in obscurity. The
forests echoed with the wild howling of the wind, which blew
tempestuously, and brought down the black pines overloaded
with ice. The whole country presented a white and dreary
surface.”
“In the midst of this horrid gloom, overwhelmed by the
whirlwinds of snow which assailed him, the soldier could no
longer distinguish the main road from the ditches, and often fell
into the latter, which served him for a tomb. Others, eager to
press forward, dragged themselves along with pain; badly clothed
and shod, having nothing to eat or drink, groaning and shivering
with cold, they gave no assistance, neither shewed any signs of
compassion to those who, sinking from weakness, expired around
them.”
“Many of these miserable creatures, dying from exhaustion,
struggled hard in the agonies of death. Some of them in the
most affecting manner bade adieu to their brethren and com-
panions in arms; others with their last sigh pronounced the
name of their mother, and of the country which gave them birth.
The rigour of the cold benumbed their stiffened limbs, and soon
reached their vitals. Stretched on the road, we could only see
the heaps of snow that covered them, and that formed undula-
tions in our route like those in a grave-yard. Flocks of ravens,
abandoning the plains to take shelter in the neighbouring woods,
croaked ominously as they flew over our heads; and troops of
dogs, which had followed us from Moscow, and lived solely on
our bloody remains, howled around us, as if desirous of hastening
the moment when we were to become their prey.” P. 329.
These famishing animals “often contended with the soldiers
for the dead horses which were left on the road.” P. 329.
Nov. 8. PAssage of THE Wop. — The bed of the river was
choked by the carriages, cannon, and the numerous bodies of
men and horses drowned in attempting the passage. “The cries
of those who were crossing ; the consternation of others who
were preparing to cross, and who were every moment precipi-
tated with their horses down the steep and slippery bank into
16
the stream; the distraction of the women, the screams of the
children, and the despair of even the soldiers, rendered this pas-
sage a scene so afflicting, that the remembrance is still dreadful
to those who witnessed it.” P. 318.
“Our soldiers had scarcely quitted the river, when the Cossacks,
no longer meeting any obstacles, advanced to these fatal shores,
where they found many poor wretches, who from the state of their
health had not been able to cross the river. Although our enemies
were surrounded with booty, they stript their prisoners, and left
them naked on the snow. From the opposite bank we saw these
Tartars dividing their bloody spoils.” P. 321
“The last night had been dreadful. To form an idea of its
rigours, it is necessary to conceive an army encamped on the snow,
in the depth of a severe winter, pursued by an enemy to whom it
could oppose neither artillery nor cavalry. The soldiers, without
shoes, and almost destitute of clothing, were enfeebled by hunger
and fatigue. Seated on their knapsacks, they slept on their knees.
From this benumbing posture they only rose to broil a few slices
of horse-flesh, or to melt some pieces of ice. They were often with-
out wood, and to keep up a fire demolished the houses in which
the generals were lodged. When we awoke in the morning the
yillage had disappeared; and in this manner towns that were
standing entire in the evening, formed the next day one vast
conflagration.” P. 321.
Nov. 15th. —“Whole teams, sinking under their fatigues, fell
together and obstructed the way. More than thirty thousand
horses perished in a few days. All the defiles that were im-
passable for the carriages, were strewed with arms, helmets,
cuirasses, broken trunks, portmanteaus, and clothes of every kind.
At intervals we saw trees, at the feet of which the soldiers had
attempted to light fires, but had expired in making these useless
efforts to warm themselves. They were stretched by dozens
round the green branches, which they had in vain endeavoured
to kindle; and the number of dead bodies would have blocked
up the road, if we had not employed men to throw them into the
ruts and ditches.” . . º
“These horrors, so far from exciting our sensibility, only
hardened our hearts. Having no longer the power of exercising
17
our cruelty on our enemies, we turned it on each other. The
best friends were estranged; whoever experienced the least sickness,
was certain of never seeing his country again, unless he had good
horses and faithful servants. Preserving the plunder of Moscow
was preferred by most, to the pleasure of saving a comrade. We
heard around us the groans of the dying, and the plaintive voice
of those who were abandoned; but all were deaf to their cries,
and if any one approached them when on the point of death, it was
for the purpose of stripping them, and searching whether they
had any remains of food.” P. 345.
Nov. 17. —“Liadoui being in Lithuania, we thought that it
would be respected as belonging to ancient Poland. The next
morning we left it before day-break; but to our great astonish-
ment, were, according to custom, lighted by the fire of the build-
ings which began to burn. This was the occasion of one of the
most dreadful events that occurred in our retreat. My pen would
shrink from its office, if the relation of so many misfortunes had
any other object or moral, than that of holding up to detestation
the fatal ambition that forced civilized people to make war like
barbarians. &
“Amongst the burning houses were three large barns filled
with poor soldiers, chiefly wounded. They could not escape from
two of these, without passing through the one in front, which
was on fire; the most active saved themselves by leaping out of
tne windows, but all those who were sick or crippled, not having
strength to move, saw the flames advancing rapidly to devour
them. Touched by their shrieks, some, who were least hardened,
endeavoured in vain to save them: we could only see them half
buried under the burning rafters. Through whirlwinds of smoke,
they entreated their comrades to shorten their sufferings by de-
priving them of life, and from motives of humanity, we thought
it our duty to comply with their wishes. As there were some who,
notwithstanding, still survived, we heard them with feeble voices
crying, “Fire on us! fire on us ! at the head! at the head / do not
miss " These heart-rending cries did not cease till the whole were
consumed.” P. 363.
Nov. 27. THE PASSAGE of THE BEREzinA.—“They who from
weariness and ignorance of danger, were less eager to cross the
C
18
river, endeavoured to light a fire, and to repose from their
fatigues. In these bivouacs we saw to what a degree of bru-
tality excess of misery will lead. We there saw men fighting
for a morsel of bread. If any one, benumbed with cold, drew
near a fire, the soldiers to whom it belonged inhumanly drove
him away; and if a parching thirst forced you to beg a drop of
water from him who had a full bowl, the refusal was always ac-
companied with abuse. We often heard even men of education,
who had been friends, quarrelling for a handful of straw, or for
a part of the dead horse they were attempting to cut up. This
campaign was the more frightful, as it demoralized our charac-
ters, and gave birth to vices till then unknown to us; they who
had been generous, humane, and upright, became selfish, avaricious,
cruel, and unjust.” P. 364.
28. —“There were two bridges, one for the carriages, the
other for the infantry; but the crowd was so great, and the
approaches so dangerous, that the throng collected on the bank of
the Berezina became incapable of moving. In spite of these
difficulties, some who were on foot saved themselves by their
perseverance; but about 8 o'clock in the morning, the bridge
reserved for the carriages having broken down, the baggage and
artillery advanced to the other, and attempted to force a
passage. Then began a frightful contest between the infantry
and the cavalry, in which many of them perished by the hands of
their comrades; a still greater number were suffocated at the foot
of the bridge, where the carcasses of men and horses obstructed
the road to such a degree, that to approach the river, it was ne-
cessary to climb over the bodies of those who had been crushed.
Some of them were still alive, and struggling with the agonies of
death. In order to extricate themselves, they caught hold ol
those who were marching over them, but the latter disengaged
themselves with violence, and trampled them under their feet.
Whilst they contended with so much fury, the following multi-
tude, like a raging wave, incessantly overwhelmed fresh victims.”
P. 385.
ln the midst of this dreadful confusion, the Russians made a
furious attack on the rear-guard.
“ In the heat of the engagement many balls fell on the
19
miserable crowd, that for three days had been pressing round the
bridge, and even some shells burst in the midst of them. Terror
and despair then took possession of every heart anxious for self-
preservation; women and children, who had escaped so many
disasters, seemed to have been preserved to experience a death
still more deplorable. Leaving their carriages, they ran to em-
brace the knees of the first person they met, and implored him
with tears to take them to the other side. The sick and wounded,
seated on the trunk of a tree, or supported on crutches, looked
eagerly for some friend that could assist them; but their cries were
lost in the air, every one thought only of his own safety.” P. 390.
“On seeing the enemy, those who had not crossed, mingling
with the Poles, rushed towards the bridge; artillery, baggage,
cavalry, and infantry, all endeavoured to pass first. The strong
threw into the water the weak, who impeded their advance, and
trampled under foot the sick and wounded whom they found in
their way. Many hundreds were crushed under the wheels of the
artillery: others, who had hoped to save themselves by swim-
ming, were frozen in the river, or perished by slipping from the ice.
Thousands and thousands of hopeless victims, notwithstanding these
sorrowful examples, threw themselves into the Berezina, where they
nearly all perished in convulsions of grief and despair.
“The division of Girard succeeded by force of arms in over-
coming all the obstacles that retarded their march, and, scaling the
mountain of dead bodies that obstructed the road, gained the op-
posite shore, where the Russians would soon have followed them,
if they had not immediately set fire to the bridge.
“Many of those who were left on the other bank with the
prospect of the most horrible death, attempted to cross the bridge
through the flames, but midway they threw themselves into the
river to avoid being burnt. At length, the Russians having made
themselves masters of the field of battle, our troops retired; the
passage of the river ceased, and the most tremendous uproar was
succeeded by a death-like silence.” P. 393.
“In our march to Zembin, we ascended the right bank of the
river, whence we could distinctly see all that passed on the other
side. The cold was intense, and the wind howled frightfully:
towards the close of the day, the darkness was illumined by the
20
numerous fires of the enemy, who occupied the hills. At the
feet of these heights, groaned our companions, devoted to death:
never had they experienced moments so dreadful as on this dis-
astrous night. All the horrors that can be conceived by the imagi-
nation, would convey but a faint impression of what they endured.
The elements, let loose, seemed to have combined to afflict all
nature, and to chastise man. The conquerors and the conquered
were overwhelmed with sufferings. The former, however, had
enormous piles of burning wood, whilst the latter had neither fire
nor shelter; their groans alone indicated the spot that contained so
many unfortunate victims.” P. 394.
Dec. 5.-" At every step we saw brave officers supported on
pine branches, covered with rags, with their hair and beards
matted with icicles. These warriors, once the terror of our ene-
mies, and the conquerors of two-thirds of Europe, having lost
their noble mien, dragged themselves slowly along, and could not
obtain a look of pity from the soldiers they had commanded. Their
situation was the more deplorable, as whoever had not strength
to march was abandoned, and every one who was abandoned, in
one hour afterwards was a dead man. Every bivouac presented
us the next day with the appearance of a field of battle. When-
ever a soldier sunk from fatigue, his next neighbour rushed on
him and stripped him of his clothes, even before he was dead.
Every moment we heard them begging the aid of some charitable
hand: ‘My comrades,' exclaimed one with a heart - rending
voice, “help me to rise; deign to lend me a hand to pursue my
march.' All passed by without even regarding him. ‘Ah : I
conjure you not to abandon me to the enemy: in the name of
humanity grant me the trifling assistance I ask: help me to
rise.’ Instead of being moved by a prayer so touching, they
considered him as already dead, and began to strip him: we then
heard his cries, ‘Help! help! they murder me! Why do you
trample me under your feet? Why do you take from me the re-
mainder of my money and my bread : You even take away my
clothes ' If some officer, urged by generous feelings, did not
arrive in time to prevent it, many in the like situation would have
been assassinated by their own comrades.” P. 407.
Dec. 8.-“The road was covered with soldiers who no longer
21
retained the human form, and whom the enemy disdained to take
prisoners. Every day furnished scenes too painful to relate.
Some had lost their hearing, others their speech, and many, by
excessive cold and hunger, were reduced to such a state of stupid
phrenzy, that they roasted the dead bodies for food, and even
gnawed their own hands and arms. Some, who were too weak to
lift a piece of wood, or to roll a stone towards the fire, sat down
upon their dead companions, and with an unmoved countenance,
gazed upon the burning logs. When they were consumed, these
livid spectres, unable to get up, fell by the side of those on whom
they had been seated. Many, in a state of mental alienation, in
order to warm themselves, plunged their bare feet into the fire;
some, with a convulsive laugh, threw themselves into the flames,
and uttering shocking cries, perished in the most horrible contor-
tions; others in a state of equal madness, followed their example,
and shared the same fate l’” P. 410.
Dec. 9.—“Every day's march presented us with a repetition
of the mournful scenes of which I have given a faint sketch.
Our hearts, completely hardened by these disgusting pictures,
lost all sensibility. We were reduced to a state of brutality
that left us no feeling but the instinct of self-preservation.”
P. 412.
Dec. 12.-“Exhausted by one of the longest and most fatiguing
marches, we reached Kowno, where the wrecks of each corps
were reunited. They encamped as usual in the streets; and as
we knew that our deplorable situation did not admit of our main-
taining any position, the magazines, which were well stored, were
given up to pillage. We had an immediate and abundant supply
of clothing, flour, and rum. Our quarters were filled with broken
casks, and the liquor that was spilled formed a pool in the public
square. The soldiers who had been long deprived of this beverage
drank to excess, and more than twelve hundred of them, in a state
of intoxication, lay down to sleep in the houses or on the snow, and
were frozen to death.” P. 423.
* “ Multitudes of these desolate fugitives lost their speech, others were
seized with frenzy, and many were so maddened by the extremes of pain and
hunger, that they tore the dead bodies of their comrades into pieces, and ſeasted
on the remains !”—Porter, p. 377.
22
“At length, on the morning of the 13th December, of Four
HUNDRED THousAND warriors who passed the Niemen near Kowno,
on opening the campaign, scarcely TwenTY THousAND repassed
it, of whom at least two-thirds had not seen the Kremlin "
P. 427.
Porter in his narrative fully corroborates the statements of La-
baume, respecting the sufferings of the French; but is silent on
those sustained by the Russians, who, he says, “ though out under
all the inclemencies of the season, hardly felt its fierceness.” p. 300.
He expatiates on their brilliant exploits, on “the overwhelming
power of the Cossac arm,” on the vengeful retribution of the
Cossac sword, on the “miracles of bravery” performed by the
p
“clouds of Donskoy heroes;" and in a strain well suited to “the
hyperbole of fiction,” informs us, that “ darkness and light were
the same to the Cossac, the blaze of his own ardour was suffi-
cient.” p. 306. From a recent work, attributed to the pen of
Sir Robert Wilson, we learn, that they were not exempt from cala-
mity, although they were much better provided than the French.*
“During the retreat, a ducat, then worth one pound sterling,
was, with thanks, the price of a single horse-shoe, even in the
Russian army.” p. 24. “The Russian army under Kutusow,
which, in the commencement of the pursuit, had amounted to
one hundred and twenty thousand effective men, could not array
thirty-five thousand on the frontier of the Duchy of Warsaw.—
There were many companies without a single man, and many
battalions with not so many as fifty.” p. 32. “Such had been
the destruction, even amongst the Russians, that a reinforcement
of ten thousand men, which had marched from Wilna, arrived only
with fifteen hundred; and of them seven hundred were next day
in the hospitals, or rather the charnel-house of that city.”
“In the hospitals of Wilna there were left above 17,000 dead
and dying, frozen and freezing; the bodies of the former broken
up, served to stop the cavities in windows, floors, and walls;
but in one of the corridores of the Great Convent, above 1,500
bodies were piled up transversely, as pigs of lead or iron. When
these were finally removed on sledges to be burnt, the most ex-
* Sketch of the Military ai.d Political Power in Russia in the year 1817, 4th
Edition, (London, 1817.)
23
traordinary figures were presented by the variety of their atti-
tudes, for none seem to have been frozen in a composed state.
Each was fixed in the last action of his life, in the last direction
given to his limbs; even the eyes retained the last expression,
either of anger, pain, or entreaty. In the roads, men were
collected round the burning ruins of their cottages, which a mad
spirit of destruction had fired, picking and eating the burnt
bodies of fellow men, while thousands of horses were moaning in
agony, with their flesh mangled and hacked to satisfy the crav-
ings of a hunger that knew no pity. In many of the sheds, men
scarcely alive, had heaped on their frozen bodies human carcasses,
which, festering by the communication of animal heat, had
mingled the dying and the dead in one mass of putrefaction.”
p. 34. “The Vistula was passed; and the main Russian army,
reduced by farther sickness and exertion, mustered only eighteen
thousand men, when the campaign was closed by the occupation
of Kalish l’’ P. 35.
Such was the catastrophe of this memorable campaign. On a
moderate computation FIVE HUNDRED THous AND lives were lost
in one hundred and seventy-three days
From the details of misery and crime which have been selected
from the Russian campaign, we may form some estimate of the
evils which are inflicted on the world by the desolating scourge of
war. Let it not be imagined that these evils were peculiar to
this campaign, or that atrocious cruelty is exclusively confined to
the soldiers of any one nation: they are the legitimate offspring
of war, and the pages of history are stained with their parallels.
If it be said that the colouring is too strong, we ask what lan-
guage can heighten the scenes of Smolensk, Borodino, and Malo
Jaroslavetz ; the tragical end of the sufferers in the hospitals of
Moscow, Liadoui, and Wilna ; the pillage and destruction of
Moscow ; the passage of the Wop and of the Berezina, or the
varied and countless horrors of the retreat?
If we examine the spirit, the practice, and the laws of war, by
me Christian test, where shall we discover any traces of the
Christian spirit 2 Are they not, on the contrary, in every respect
the reverse of the precepts of the Prince of Peace : Are not
24
selfishness and indifference the predominant feelings of an army
Are not theft and burglary considered venial in war, and a vio-
lation of the principles of morality, under existing circumstances,
justifiable, and sometimes even meritorious ! Thus crimes, which
in this enlightened country would incur the popular odium and
the forfeiture of life, are palliated under softer appellations, and
are committed without offence to the moral feelings of the public.
The perpetrator of a single murder is branded with infamy and
doomed to expiate his crime by an ignominious death : but to
take away the lives of myriads in war is deemed glorious and
honourable. On what principles of reason, of humanity, or of
religion, can such a perversion of terms be justified ? The writers
of contending nations may describe a massacre in glowing lan-
guage, and claim for their respective countrymen the honours of
a glorious victory; the vaulted roof of a cathedral may ring with
the solemn notes of a Te Deum, and the praises of a conqueror;
and, in attending the triumphant celebration, the spectator may
be dazzled with the imaginary grandeur of martial fame; but
the more appropriate scene of commemoration is the field of
battle, drenched with rivers of blood; and the more appropriate
music, the groans of the wounded, and the responsive lamenta-
,tions of the hundreds of thousands, who on a day like that of
Borodino, have lost their husbands, their fathers, their sons, and
their brothers. But what is the value of human life, or what
the importance of human woe, in the view of those who can
delight in such scenes 2 We speak with abhorrence of the bar-
barous and degrading superstitions by which human victims are
offered in sacrifice to devils ; but can we for a moment suppose,
that our military sacrifices are acceptable and well pleasing in the
sight of God? And whilst we give our sanction and support to
war, do we not uphold a system more sanguinary, more cruel, and
more extensively destructive than any of the heathen rites which
we condemn?
R. Clay, Printer, 7, Bread Street Hill, Cheapside.
Tract No. VI. of the Society for the Promotion of
Permanent and Universal Peace.
ON
UNIVERSAL PEACE;
BEING EXTRACTS FROM
A DISC O U R S E.
DELIVERED IN OCTOBER 1813.
BY THE
REV. DAVID BOGUE, D. D.
“They shall sit every man under his vine and under his fig-tree; and none shall
make them afraid: for the mouth of the Lord of hosts hath spoken it.”
Micah iv. 4,
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ing to shew that War is inconsistent with the spirit of
Christianity, and the true interests of mankind; and to
point out the means best calculated to maintain Permanent
and Universal Peace, upon the basis of Christian Principles.
Its labours are not limited by Local attachments, nor cir-
cumscribed by Geographical Boundaries, but extend to the
whole human race.
-*.
RoB ERT MARSDEN, Esq. Chairman.
SAMUEL GURNEY, Esq. Treasurer. -
Rev. JAMES HARGREAves, Honorary Home Secretary.
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*** It is requested that all Communications may be for-
warded to the respective Officers of the PEACE SocIETY,
directed to the DEPoSITORY, Star Court, Bread Street,
Cheapside.
BRIEF IMIEMIO IIR
OF
THE REV. DAVID BOGUE, D. D.
— Q-
THE Author of the following Tract being deceased, a brief account
of him may not be unacceptable to the reader.—DAVID Bogue, the
fourth son of John Bogue, Esq., Laird of Halydown, Berwickshire,
was born on the 1st of March, 1750. His parents gave him a re-
ligious and classical education, which was completed at the University
of Edinburgh. He was licensed to preach in connexion with the
Presbyterian Church, but his ordination was prevented by his pre-
ference of the Independent to the Presbyterian mode of church
government. This circumstance probably brought him to England,
and led to his connexion with the Rev. William Smith, pastor of an
Independent Church in Silver Street, London, in the year 1774. He
removed to Gosport in 1777, which proved to be the scene of his
future ministerial labours till his death.
The superintendence of the education of young men for the mi-
nistry and for missionaries was added to the ministerial duties of
Dr. Bogue. He was also unremitting in his endeavours to promote
the objects of the London Missionary Society. These several
engagements he fulfilled much to the satisfaction of those with whom
he was connected.
We now proceed to notice a trait in Dr. Bogue's character, which
has been nearly, if not quite, overlooked by his biographers, though
it reflects credit on the consistency of his Christian views, and on
his honesty and zeal in avowing them ; as, with respect to the point .
to which we advert, he stood nearly alone, unsupported by his
coadjutors and fellow-labourers in the ministry of the Gospel. When
the mind is imbued with an earnest desire for the salvation of the
heathen, we are not to be surprised if it anticipates with pleasure the
period when “the kingdoms of this world" shall “become the king-
doms of our Lord and of his Christ.” To these delightful anticipations,
iv MF MOIR OF DR. BQū UE,
and to their effects on the mind of Dr. Bogue, we are probably in-
debted for his “Discourses on the Millennium,” published in 1818.
Of this publication Mr. Griffin remarks: “It is a work considerably
in advance even of this enlightened age. It paints such a paradise
upon earth as the faith of some is unable to contemplate, or their
hope to realize ; but it is a copy from the word of God, and one
day the glorious reality shall be exhibited to the world of men and
angels, as evidence of the love, the faithfulness, and the power of
the great Head of the Church.” To no part of the work will these
observations more justly apply than to the sixth discourse, “On
Universal Peace,” delivered in October 1813. In this discourse the
author recommends those measures “for promoting peace among the
nations of the earth,” which were afterwards adopted by the London
Peace Society; a society to which he gave satisfactory proof of his
approval of its proceedings, by enrolling his name among its mem-
bers. The views which Dr. Bogue has taken of the important
subjects of peace and war, are so congenial with those of the Peace
Society, that the following Tract was selected from his sixth dis-
course, and, with the author's approbation, adopted as a tract of
that Society in the year 1819. We are only paying a debt due to
the memory of Dr. Bogue, by thus acknowledging the benefits that
the cause of Peace has derived from his advocacy in its behalf.
Dr. Bogue was attacked with his last illness when from home,
having gone to Brighton to attend a Missionary Meeting. The con-
flict was short, but his sufferings were acute : in the midst of them
he evinced that he knew whom he had believed.—He departed this
life on the 24th of October, 1825.
Convinced, as we are, that the success of those who are labouring
to promote the cause of the Gospel in the earth, depends upon their
feet being “shod with the preparation of the Gospel of PEACE,” we
earnestly recommend to Christians in general, and to the ministers of
the Gospel in particular, a candid and serious consideration of the
powerful and impressive reasoning in the following Tract: by it,
Dr. Bogue, “being dead, yet speaketh,” and the result to which it
leads may be summed up in the language of inspiration—“Not by
might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord of Hosts."
April, 1826.
ON
UNIVERSAL PEACE.
—(?–
MICAH Iv. 1–4.
“But in the last days it shall come to pass that the mountain of
the house of the Lord shall be established in the top of the mountains,
and it shall be eacalted above the hills; and people shall flon, unto
it. And many nations shall come, and say, Come, and let us go up
to the mountain of the Lord, and to the house of the God of Jacob ;
and he mill teach us of his nays, and ne mill malk in his paths : for
the lan' shall go forth of Zion, and the nord of the Lord from
Jerusalem. And he shall judge among many people, and rebuke
strong nations afar off: and they shall beat their snords into plough-
shares, and their spears into pruning-hooks : nation shall not lift up
a snord against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. But
they shall sit every man under his vine and under his fig-tree; and
none shall make them afraid : for the mouth of the Lord of hosts hatſ,
spoken it.”
Some of my hearers are perhaps ready to say, “How can these
things be? The representation given of the state of the world is
exceedingly delightful; but we are afraid it is too good to be true.”
Others have the same spirit of unbelief with the courtier, on whose
arm the king of Israel leaned, who answered the man of God, when
predicting immediate abundance in Samaria: “If the Lord would
make windows in heaven, this thing might be.” To give force to
their objection, they say—“Look at the face of Christendom: there
is not a nation upon earth which professes to believe the holy Scrip-
tures to be the word of God, but is engaged in war; and while
they are carrying on the contest with each other, all the Mahometan
and Pagan kingdoms are living at peace.” -
This discourse was delivered in October, 1813.
6
In the pages of the oldest records, which lie open to our view,
what read we of the polished empires of Asia, the Assyrian, and
the Persian, but their bloody wars what are the chronicles of
Greece and Rome, but the detail of their almost incessant and
sanguinary contests In a word, nar forms the essence of all the
most renowned histories of the ancient civilized nations. Might
it not be supposed, that bitter experience and superior advantages,
especially from the introduction of Christianity, would have given
a different colour to the conduct of modern States, – in which
civilization has been carried to a greater height, and to a wider
extent, than in ancient times? But the supposition, alas! will
not be found to be supported by facts. Of what is the mass of
the history of each country in Europe, the most cultivated portion
of mankind, and especially of this country, which accounts itself
the most polished of the whole; of what is the mass of its history
composed, but of its battles and its wars? Would there be no
reason, on a review of the annals of modern Europe, to conclude,
that the nations engaged in wars, and continued them till they
were exhausted ; and then, when men and money failed, they made
peace? But no sooner did they recover from their distress, and
become rich and prosperous, and able to fight again, than to war
they went, with their whole soul: so that the interval of peace
seemed only for the purpose of regaining their strength, that they
might contend with greater effect and eagerness than before. So
generally has this been the case, that a person would be ready to
believe war between neighbouring nations to be their natural state:
and the present condition of Europe, in which war has, with a short
intermission, raged for more than twenty years, seems to give
undeniable force to the conclusion. But let none despair of a better
order of things. -
When the holy angels proclaimed the Saviour's advent, this is
mentioned as one grand distinguishing attribute of his reign—
“peace on earth.” In the 72d Psalm, which contains a most
striking prophecy concerning the kingdom of the Redeemer, a
similar representation is given of the state of the world: v. 3.
“the mountains shall bring peace to the people, and the little
hills by righteousness;” and v. 7. “ In his days shall the
7
righteous flourish, and abundance of peace so long as the moon
endureth.”
The same doctrine is evidently contained in the 11th Chapter of
the Prophecies of Isaiah, v.4–9. As the natural accompaniment
of that righteousness, which shall be the girdle of Messiah's loins,
and that faithfulness, which shall be the girdle of his reins, “the
wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down
with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling
together; and a little child shall lead them. And the cow and
the bear shall feed; their young ones shall lie down together; and
the lion shall eat straw like the ox: And the sucking child shall
play on the hole of the asp; and the weaned child shall put his
hand on the cockatrice's den.” Do I strain these figures, when
I say that they denote the destruction of the evil passions which
reign in the hearts of men; and which make them, like the wild
beasts of the forest, tear each other to pieces; and like the dragons
of the wilderness, instil their deadly poison into the veins of
those who approach their dens ! To all this enmity and rage shall
succeed harmony and peace: the very nature of men will appear
to be changed, and they will dwell together in tranquillity and
love. That this is no fanciful comment, is evident from the inter-
pretation of God himself; for by a method no wise uncommon in
the sacred Scriptures, the Holy Spirit, after powerfully impressing
both the imagination and the heart with a profusion of the most
beautiful and interesting figures—by placing beneath these figures
a sentence of plain didactic language, instructs us so clearly in
their meaning, that he may run who reads. He has done so here,
v. 9. “They shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain.”
That the season of these joyful events is to be connected with the
glory of the latter days, when the religion of Jesus shall be uni-
versal, is demonstrated from the words which follow; “for the earth
shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the
sea.”
During that period, “nation shall not lift up sword against
nation.” Universal harmony will prevail. No desire of conquest
will then be found. Contented with their own territory, none
will seek to encroach on their neighbours' lands. Over the face
of the whole earth, peace shall reign, and the nations shall form
8
a holy brotherhood, emulous to promote each other's prosperity
and happiness. The art of murdering will then cease : “ they
shall learn war no more.” No naval nor military colleges shall
then exist: no time, no labour, no skill be employed to teach the
stripling and the recruit how to fight, and how to wound and slay.
The study then among Christ's disciples will be after the example
of their Master, “who came not to destroy men's lives, but to
save them.”
So discordant is this description with the general sentiments
and feelings and practice of mankind in the present day, that after
all the potent arguments adduced, some may still be inclined to
disbelieve the existence of such a state, and be ready to exclaim
with the voice of incredulity, “it is impossible.” The spirit of
God foreseeing this obduracy of heart, in order to remove every
doubt, inspired the prophet Micah to add to his prediction these
omnipotent words:—“For the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.”
He, whom the word of the faithful God will not satisfy, has no
higher evidence to receive, and must be left to the curse of his
unbelief: but surely every Christian must say, “the Lord hath
spoken, and I believe his word.”
Let your heart, Christian, sweetly repose on this delightful
scene; for wearied and harassed you must be with the din of
arms, with the sight of slaughter and of blood, and the widely
extended range of human misery. Turn your eyes away from
the hateful spectacle, and look forward to the joyful season, when
war shall be unknown, but in tradition and in name; and when all
the nations of the world shall dwell together, from generation to
generation, in peace and love. Now the aim of every ruler in
Christendom is to do all the injury in his power to the nations
with which he is at war. Now men of the most gigantic minds,
enlarged by science, and corrected by extensive observation and
experience, are employing all their emergies, night and day, in
inventing methods, by which slaughter and desolation may be
most widely scattered. Now hundreds of thousands of men, of
the greatest personal strength and courage, are enduring fatigues,
are suffering privations, are exposing themselves to dangers and
deaths beyond what words can express, to carry the plans or
others into execution, by spreading destruction as extensively as
9
possible; and in a way which may be most severely felt. What
Christian's heart but must—I am afraid I can only say, but ought
to sicken at the view, and bewail the present state of things, as
the disgrace of our nature, and still more of our profession as the
disciples of Jesus Christ. How solacing is it to look forward to
the period predicted in the text | Then the rulers of the world,
while their first cares are employed for the happiness of their own
people, will also extend their concern to other nations, and strive to
promote their welfare and prosperity as widely as they can. Then,
men of superior minds and talents will exercise them, in endeavour-
ing to make discoveries, by which other countries as well as their
own may reap essential benefit. Then, the vigour and energy of
the comeliest youth will be engaged in the peaceful occupations of
domestic life; and such as leave their native land, will endeavour
to promote the happiness of the regions to which they go.—But still
some may say, “How can these things be 7”
So different is that state of things from the present, or from any
n!hich the norld has yet eachibited, that it may appear to some a
mere chimera—a Utopian dream. But let such persons weigh the
folloning considerations:
First. The natural result of the doctrines and precepts of the
Gospel. Hear its language, Matt. xxii. 37, 38, 39. “Thou shalt
love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and
with all thy mind: This is the first and great commandment.
And the second is like unto it; Thou shalt love thy neighbour as
thyself.” Matt. v. 43, 44. “Ye have heard that it hath been said,
Thou shalt love thy neighbour and hate thine enemy. But I say
unto you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to
them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you
and persecute you.” Rom. xii. 19, 20, 21. “Dearly beloved,
avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath; for it is
written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord. Therefore
If thine enemy hunger, feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink; for in
so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head. Be not overcome
of evil, but overcome evil with good.” Of the spirit and commands
of the Gospel, these passages furnish a fair specimen, and teach us
what Christians ought to be. Do these encourage or even permit
1()
a disciple of Jesus to take away the precious life of the inhabitant
of another country, more than of one of his own—or indeed to injure
him in the smallest degree ? You who are acquainted with the
Bible, know that it every where enjoins love and good-will to men ;
and commands us to promote their happiness to the utmost of our
power. If all mankind were under the influence of these principles,
would they not produce universal peace 7
Second. The nature of Christianity will be better understood in
all its parts. When the religion of Jesus was first propagated in
the world, some of its doctrines and precepts were peculiarly in
opposition to the sentiments and dispositions both of the Jews and
Gentiles; hence they were either rejected or perverted. Against
these corruptions, several of the Epistles of the New Testament
are directly levelled: but, alas ! too many of them have retained
their influence to the present day. This has been especially the
case, with respect to that love which the disciples of Christ ought
to bear to the whole human race; as to the way in which it should
be manifested ; and particularly as to the manner in which
Christians, considered in their relation as subjects of civil society,
ought to demean themselves towards the members of other com-
munities, or subjects of other governments. How many Chris-
tians, who, acting as individuals, would be filled with horror at
the thought of taking away the life of a man of another country,
for any provocation which could be given,-can, when acting as
members of the commonwealth, put to death men of other lands
without remorse, and even glory in the deed, as conferring a
title to honour and renown. The obligation of the followers of
Jesus to the exercise of universal love and of good-will to man-
kind, will be both clearly understood and deeply felt. It will be
ascertained, that individual accountableness runs through every
relation in which man can be placed ;-that a Christian cannot
lend his influence or his energies to execute the designs of caprice,
avarice, ambition, or revenge;—and that when mixed with a
hundred thousand of his species, he is no more justified in taking
away the life of a man of another country for those ends, than if
he acted by himself alone. Christians are men of peace, and
should never disturb the peace of society: their religion will teach
I l
them that in evil times, if they are not allowed to be passive, their
duty is to suffer injury themselves, in order to avoid doing injury to
others.
Third. In consequence of such a change of views, the true spirit
of the Gospel will be imbibed by every Christian individual: and
the number of these individuals will be so great, as to comprehend
the generality of mankind. To love the whole family of Adam,
and to manifest this love to them in every relation, both public
and private, will be the predominant temper in civil society. To
abstain from doing injury to men of other countries, will have
equal authority over his conscience, as not to commit adultery and
not to be guilty of sacrilege. To exercise benevolence towards all,
and to endeavour, by every means in his power, to promote the hap-
piness of all, will be accounted of like obligation by the Christian,
as loving his brothers and sisters, and honouring his father and his
mother.
Fourth. Those evil principles, which now reign in the hearts of
the mass of mankind, and which are the causes of war, shall be then
destroyed. “From whence come wars and fightings among you?”
is a question asked by the apostle James, ch. iv. 1, 2, and he
returns an answer, which develops the origin of every war that
has since been waged. “Come they not hence, even from your
lusts that war in your members ? Ye lust, and have not ; ye kill,
and desire to have, and cannot obtain; ye fight and war.” Such
is the course from the fountain to the ocean. But what are those
“lusts,” or, in other words, those desires and passions of which
he speaks 7 Are they a peculiar form of malignity ? Has the
evil spirit first kindled them in the flames of hell, and hastened
with them to earth, and thrust them still burning into the heart
of one, whom he had before marked as fit for his purpose, on
account of his singular wickedness? No such thing. They are none
of them of an uncommon kind: none but the ordinary passions on
the human heart—pride, ambition, caprice, false honour, avarice,
sensuality, malice, envy, and hatred. These lusts raging in the
breast of a mean man, form a drunkard, an adulterer, a thief, a
robber, or an assassin: when they operate with all their strength in
the bosoms of the rulers of the world, they produce war and
12
slaughter, and the tears of ten thousand widows and orphans, and
the desolation and misery of nations.
Let these evil passions be subdued, and “wars will cease unto
the ends of the earth, the bow will be broken, the spear cut
asunder, and the chariot will be burned in the fire.” That such
will be the case, we may naturally conclude—when it is considered,
that in the place of those hateful lusts, love to God and love to
man, meekness, humility, forgiveness of injuries, and ardent bene-
volence to every thing human, will fill the soul, and bear absolute
sway over all its powers.
Fifth. These principles will regulate the conduct of nations in
all their intercourse with each other. Multitudes of individuals in
their transactions with their fellows, have acted under the influence
of the precepts of the Gospel; but to individuals the operation of
them has been confined. No one nation, since the day that Pilate
testified of Christ, “I find no fault in this man”—and yet con-
demned him to death, ever administered a system of government
according to Christian principles, or pursued a regular succession
of political measures, under the influence of the spirit of Christian
benevolence.”
An objection has been often raised, that if a nation,-for example,
this to mhich we belong, mere to act upon these principles, and refuse
to go to war, it mould soon be swalloned up by other nations. In
answer to this, let the folloning things be considered:
First. No instance of this pacific spirit in a community has yet
occurred in the history of the world: no proof can therefore be
* We may quote the example of Pennsylvania, which settlement was esta-
blished, and long conducted on Gospel principles. See Clarkson's Life of Penn.
The Edinburgh Review, in their critique of this Work, say, in allusion to Penn's
celebrated Treaty with the Indians, “Such indeed was the spirit in which the
negociation was entered into, and the corresponding settlements conducted, that
for the space of more than seventy years, and so long indeed as the Quakers
retained the chief power in the government, the peace and amity which had
been thus solemnly promised and concluded, never was violated; and a large,
though solitary, example afforded of the facility with which they, who are really
singere and friendly in their views, may live in harmony with those who are
supposed to be peculiarly fierce and faithless.” -
13
brought against it from facts. It is an untried system. Long has
the method of nation injuring nation been practised—and practised
without any lasting good effect. Let men now try the way of
abstaining from injury and of conferring benefits; and thus heap
coals of fire upon the heads of their enemies. It cannot possibly
succeed worse: but it may have unspeakably happier results.
Second. A person of a humble, pacific spirit, leads the most quiet
life. Is it not seen, that an inoffensive deportment, especially when
it is united to uprightness and sanctity, preserves its possessor from
many quarrels in which others are involved, and from many injuries
which the quarrelsome sustain' But why should it not be so with
nations too ! Like causes produce like effects; and if nations were
as exemplary in those virtues as individuals are, and as careful to
avoid giving offence, and as slow in taking it, the number of their
wars would be astonishingly diminished. If, on some occasions,
the most peaceable are obliged to have recourse to the decision of
the law for the redress of a grievance, why could not a council of
modern Amphictyons be established in Europe, to settle national
disputes? Surely the benign spirit of the Gospel should long ere
now have taught Christendom to adopt an institution, of which the
pagan wisdom of ancient Greece set them so charming and in-
structive an example.
Third. The hitherto untried exercise of active benevolence by
such a nation, would tend still more effectually to preserve peace
and prevent war. There have been individuals, who, by adding to
dignity and sanctity of personal character a course of unwearied
compassion for the distressed, have risen to so high esteem in the
general sentiments of mankind, that the very worst of men have
felt an awe of reverence even for their name, and have been afraid
not only to do them an injury, but even to offer them an insult.
Why should not this be the case also with communities : It would,
if they pursued a similar conduct. Great Britain has often sent
fleets, and fire-ships, and bombs, and armed men, with all their
artillery of destruction, to burn and destroy cities, and put the
defenders to death, if they resist. The natural consequence has
been, that multitudes of them have been slain; numerous families of
peaceable inhabitants, consisting of fathers and mothers, sons and
daughters, and infants at the breast, have been buried under the
14
ruins of their dwelling, or dashed to pieces in the streets, while the
surrounding country has been mournfully desolated. What is the
effect of this warfare? Every survivor's heart is filled with hatred
of the invaders, and burns with revenge. The same spirit he
conveys down as an inheritance to his children; and let it be
remembered, “ that those are no little enemies.” -
Let us suppose that, instead of such an armament, our rulers
were to commission ships laden with corn, and clothes, and money,
at only half the amount of expense, and to accompany the gift
with a letter to the government of a neighbouring country to this
effect: “Through the goodness of God, we have had an abundant
harvest, and hearing that you have not, we send a present of corn
to the widows and the fatherless, the orphan, the blind, and the
lame. As many of them may be unprovided with raiment for the
inclemency of winter, accept of the clothing which will be deli-
vered to you by our fleet, and divide among those who are in
the greatest distress, the money which our messengers carry in
their hands.” What influence would such conduct have upon the
people of that country 7 Would it leave any stings behind in their
souls? No. It would conciliate the esteem and affection of all.
Tell them after this, “Britain wishes to injure you.” No. They
would say, it cannot be : it is impossible that the people of that
land should desire to do us harm. Command them to buckle on
their armour, and wage war with the English. They would answer,
“We cannot fight with them: the weapons would drop from our
hands: we love them too well to hurt them: continue in peace.”
If any State would act in this way to its neighbours, it would have
no enemies: the sound of war would not be heard in its do-
minions.
Fourth. A nation so much under the influence of the Gospel, as
to feel the obligation to live at peace with its neighbours, would
diffuse, in a considerable measure, the same spirit among them. No
people can have arrived at so exalted a state of wisdom and good-
mess, without having made a powerful impression on all the
countries around. By diplomatic characters, the principles have
been conveyed into the cabinets of the rulers of these countries;
they have been propagated in conversation by travellers—in ten
thousand respectable domestic groups: above all, they have been
15
widely disseminated by books, circulated through the mass of the
people by converts to the cause. The natural force of these
principles will recommend them to men of intelligence; their ex-
cellence to philanthropists, and their claims of submission from
the authority of God, to all who regulate their conduct by the
Divine will. Hence there would be a progress towards the spirit
of peace in every land. While the highly favoured nation was
enjoying the fruits of autumn, and feasting on them with delight,
in some countries the summer would be commencing, in others,
the spring would be seen to advance, and in the latest, the
swelling of the buds would denote its speedy approach. From
the growth of the pacific principle in neighbouring regions, the
facility of living at peace would be astonishingly increased; and
the wise and happy nation, determined to act on the maxims of
the Gospel, would find its difficulties diminished from year to year,
and its system of love gaining ground from day to day ! O that
our country would set the example to the world, and commence
the reign of peace on earth, and good-will towards men of every
land
Fifth. To all these considerations, add the existence and nature
of divine Providence. Is it at all unreasonable to suppose, that a
nation living under the influence of the spirit of the Gospel, and
uniformly acting according to its pacific principles, would expe-
rience the peculiar protection of the great Governor of the world?
How remarkable, in this respect, was his care over Israel of old,
when they faithfully kept his covenant and his testimonies; none
of the neighbouring nations desired their land, or disturbed their
repose. During the time of the theocracy, it was only when they
rebelled against God that they felt the scourge of war, and the
hostile rage of the people around them. Is it irrational to con-
ceive, that if any one country were to be regulated in all its
domestic measures, and in all its foreign relations, by the spirit
of the Gospel, it would be the peculiar charge of God, and enjoy
the smiles of his approbation, and the guardianship of his provi-
dence, in a degree hitherto unknown since the commencement
of the Christian era, because such Christian conduct in a govern-
ment has been unknown 2 Individuals will have rewards and
16
punishments dispensed to them in a future state; but there nations,
as such, will have no existence. Is it improper then to argue, that
virtuous and pious nations will consequently have their reward in a
present world? and as the blessings bestowed in this form have
been observed to have an intimate connexion with the virtues dis-
played, what is more reasonable than to conclude—that on a nation,
the lover and advocate of peace, the God of peace will bestow the
blessing of peace 2
But the foregoing objection, which I hope now occasions no
more hesitation in your minds, is not the only difficulty that is felt
on the subject: another is frequently brought forward. “If the
love of peace, producing the most determined enmity to war, be the
spirit of Christianity, and the very essence of one part of its prin-
ciples, how comes it to pass, that so little of it has appeared in the
dispositions, in the deportment, and in the writings of persons pro-
fessing to be the disciples of Christ?” The following considerations
will, I hope, solve the difficulty, and furnish a satisfactory answer
to the objection.
That there has been, in the minds of the mass of persons profess-
ing Christianity, a gross ignorance of this feature of the Gospel, is
too evident to be denied: and we can sufficiently account for its
existence, from a variety of causes operating with mighty force
upon the human heart; which, inheriting a deep depravity from the
first parents of mankind, is unapt to receive principles contrary to
its evil inclinations, and that would stop the torrent of malevolent
passions.
To the spirit of peace, the prejudices of education are all op-
posed. The books which the scholar learns to read, were in
general written under the influence of that ferocious depravity.
They teach the child to hate or to despise every nation but his
own; they represent war as the theatre of glory ; they tell him to
rejoice in the miseries inflicted on the people of another country by
those of his own; and they render him passionately ambitious to
wear the ensanguined laurels of victory, by achieving something in
the work of destruction, which will be above the common standard.
Unhappy youth ! who receives such lessons from his master and his
books, and has his soul so early contaminated, and his principle.
17
polluted in their source | Though he may afterwards become a
Christian, how seldorn are these unchristian sentiments eradicated
from his breast. -
The spirit of the men of the world has likewise had consider-
able influence, in preventing the growth of the spirit of peace.
Hitherto, those who deny themselves, take up their cross, and
follow Christ, have been few in number compared with the un-
godly ; and their strength has not lain among those classes in
society which are pre-eminent in rank, in wealth, and in litera-
ture; and which, from these advantages, sway the public mind
almost without control. On this account, not only the sentiments
of Christians have had little weight, but they themselves have sus-
tained no small injury from the influence of those exalted person-
ages, both on their opinions and their conduct, and especially in
reference to the subject before us. This I consider as one very
powerful cause of the unchristian spirit of the disciples of Jesus in
respect of war.
An unhappy misconception of the Jewish economy, has led
many into error respecting the doctrine of Christianity on this
point. The state of that people was singular. The land of Canaan
was their inheritance, by the free gift of Jehovah himself; and
they were authorised by him to take possession, by extirpating the
nations that inhabited it, whose iniquities were full. Afterwards,
when this land, the heritage of the Lord, was invaded, they were
commanded to go to war, and expel the invaders with the edge
of the sword. All this is peculiar to that people, and has no
parallel in the history of mankind. When, weary of the theocracy,
they had obtained what they so eagerly desired—kings like the
nations around them, many of their wars were like the wars of
those nations,—wars of ambition, of covetousness, of hatred and
revenge, and fall under the general sentence of condemnation from
the Gospel of Christ. From not attending to this difference of
circumstances, many Christians have considered all those wars
as the wars of the Lord ;-have conceived themselves justified in
being advocates of war, and bound to approve the wars in which
their country was engaged ; and have supposed theirs was like
Canaan of old, God's favourite land. Hence they have made
Jehovah a party in their quarrels; and have weakly and wickedly
B
18
imagined that the common Father of mankind would degrade Him-
self, by assuming the character of the topical deity of their country;
and pour out his wrath on the nations contending with them,
because they are God's chosen people. How large a portion of the
disciples of Christ has been hereby led astray from the pacific spirit
of the Gospel, it is painful to relate. Should I not rather say, how
small is the number of Christians which has not been drawn away
from the simplicity of Christ, and has escaped the contagion of this
Jewish spirit, which has for ages overspread and defiled the Chris-
tian Church.
From the prevalence of a pagan spirit, multitudes that profess
Christianity have lost sight of the peaceful genius of the Gospel,
and become the advocates of bloodshed and of war. The ancient
writers of Greece and Rome are the idols of modern times, in most
countries of Europe. To the generous youth in the middle and
superior classes of society, they are the books of education in our
public schools—and in what veneration are they held ! From them,
among other evils, the youth imbibe a pagan morality, which.
instead of flowing from the wisdom from above, which “is first
pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated, full of mercy
and good fruits,”—more resembles that from beneath, “which is
earthly, sensual, and devilish.” This pagan morality, far from in-
culcating or p ssessing humility, meekness, benevolence, and peace
—those essential attributes of the Gospel—is selfish, proud, am-
bitious, savage, hates other nations, despises the mass of mankind,
and seeks distinction and honour in the field of battle, and amidst
heaps of the slain. With such sentiments have the greater part
of statesmen and nobles come from the school and the college,
into the senate and the cabinet. Such is the morality which is most
commonly found in the speeches of the most eloquent public men:
and the maxims generally recommended and adopted, accord much
more with the sentiments of the Grecian and Roman classics,
than with the spirit of the evangelists and apostles of Christ.
From the influence of such a morality, millions of the youth of
Europe have been brought to an untimely grave, who would have
been spared till the natural termination of life—had those at the
helm of public affairs been directed in their course by the principles
of the glorious Gospel. But instead of a paragraph, a volume
19
would be necessary to delineate all the evils which have sprung
from the prevalence of a pagan morality, in the higher walks of life.
From them it has descended to the humbler stations of society, and
thus has pervaded the general mass of the community: and from
the highest to the lowest class, it operates with mighty power, as
one of the chief causes why men have not imbibed nor acted in that
spirit of peace which Christianity enjoins.
From these sources have flowed the ignorance and the dislike
of the pacific spirit of the Gospel, and the approbation and ardent
love of war, which have so much dishonoured the Christian name.
They do not, you perceive, weaken in the smallest degree the force
of the arguments which have been adduced, and which demonstrate
the religion of Jesus to be the constant friend of peace, and the
inveterate foe of war.
If this be the doctrine of the New Testament, how much is it
to be lamented that multitudes who profess to be Christians, are
opposed to it, both in sentiments and in practice. If we trace wars
to their origin, the apostle James tells us what that is; and it is so
bad, that it ought not to find one advocate among those who name
the name of Jesus. But alas! the generality of them enter as keenly
into the quarrels of nations, as any of the men of the world can.
Yet surely the influence of Christian principles, the feeling of that
love which is due to all the children of men, and the awful thought,
of multitudes of immortal souls being hurried unprepared to the
tribunal of God, should repress this spirit, and should produce an
unquenchable desire of peace on earth ; which the sight of so much
misery before our eyes from the ravages of war ought, if possible,
to heighten.
But what is still more to be bewailed, ministers of Christ, who
ought to be patterns of peace and love, have drunk into the spirit
of war, and sought to make their God a party in every conten-
tion in which their country has happened to be engaged. They
pray to him for victory over its enemies; they give Him thanks
when ten or twenty thousand of their foes are destroyed, and in
louder strains if still more have been slain ; and in their dis-
courses to their flock, endeavour to inspirit them to battle and to
bloodshed. Surely the ministers of Jesus should never sound the
wharwhoop — prayers for peace and good-will towards men, bette
20
become the lips of the servants of the Prince of Peace. How
displeasing to God must such conduct be How greatly is he
dishonoured by it! What miseries does war bring on the bodies,
and especially on the souls of men; and these not prevented,
but encouraged, by persons who profess to love God with all their
heart, and their neighbour as themselves! What pity is due to
the men who share the most deeply in these miseries; who, from
the constitution of civil society, are not the cause of the contest,
but the instruments constrained to act their hazardous and painful
part. The Most High beholds all with an impartial eye, and will
execute righteous judgment. -
We have reason to bless God, that the number of those Chris-
tians, who perceive and feel their obligations to seek the peace of
mankind, is increasing from day to day. In the first ages of the
Church, there were some who understood this to be the doctrine of
the Gospel. At the Reformation, it had also its advocates : but
they unhappily appended to it other sentiments, which were un-
founded, and thus detracted from the weight of their testimony to
peace. Since that time, none have been so faithful witnesses to the
pacific spirit of the religion of Jesus as the Quakers; and had all
the rulers of Christendom been of that denomination for the last
hundred and fifty years, the oceans of blood shed in wars would
have no existence—and how much happier a countenance would
Europe have worn than she now wears For more than a century
after their rise, few besides themselves adopted their peaceful creed.
But of late, it has been embraced by considerable numbers among
every sect; and there is reason to conclude, that if it has made
converts in the most unfavourable circumstances, its progress will
be rapid when the state of the world, by the restoration of peace,
shall be more congenial to its claims.
All the disciples of Christ should imbibe the spirit of peace. It
displays unspeakable mercy in God, that while individuals, who
have been made partakers of his grace, maintain sentiments inju-
rious to his honour, and the happiness of man, he should yet
compassionately hold communion with them. But these unchristian
opinions certainly prevent them from enjoying those full commu-
nications, which God would otherwise impart. Let these old
things, which belong to the old man, be done away, and all things
21
become new. Understand your calling, brethren : It is from
darkness into marvellous light, that ye may shine as lights in the
world, that ye may do no harm to any person of any country, but
all the good in your power to all mankind. This was the spirit of
your Master and of his religion: let it be yours; and let the ardour
and universality of your benevolence continually increase.
Above all, let the ministers of Christ be men of peace, and ad-
vocates for the peace of the world. If we seek to inflame the
malevolent passions of the soul, who shall be found to cool them 7
The people of the world talk of glory from victory and conquest;
but we know that honour and happiness can arise only from doing
the will of God, and living in subjection to Him, and in peace
with men. Let us tell the world so, and call them away from their
angry contests for mastery, to dwell in love. O that those who
preach to emperors and kings, to ministers of state, to senates
and to parliaments, would lift up their voice like a trumpet, and
proclaim to them from the great Jehovah and from Jesus Christ,
who shed his blood for sinners, to save them from misery, that
the religion of the New Testament is a religion of peace;—and
that for the blood of every man slain in war, the Almighty Ruler
of the universe will demand an account from those who direct the
affairs of nations, and decree violence and war, and not pursue
peace with their whole heart.
The co-operation of all enlightened Christians to diffuse these
benevolent principles, would do much to promote the peace of
the world. The great changes in the moral world, which are
pregnant with happiness to man, are only to be brought about
by the most vigorous exertions of moral principle in the breast
of the wise and good. It is from the operation of principles,
that the peaceful state of the world is to be produced: and
these principles must be disseminated by those in whose hearts
they reign. Few they may be at first; but the number will
continually increase. Let every one consider what he can do to
promote the grand work, and let him do it without delay. He that
has nothing else, has a tongue to plead the cause of peace in his
domestic circle, and infuse his sentiments into the minds of his
neighbours too, and his acquaintances, and those he meets with in
the way. Another can write clearly and forcibly: let his letters to
22
his friends bear testimony to his zeal, and let him compose tracts, to
enlighten society on the subject. A third has a talent for poetry:
let him in tuneful numbers touch the reader's heart, with a delinea-
tion of the miseries of war and the blessings of peace. A fourth
possesses wealth, and he can purchase these publications, and spread
them far and wide. A fifth is a man of genius, and could in a fuller
and more elaborate treatise give an extensive as well as an impressive
view of the doctrine: let him consecrate his powers to this service,
in honour of the Prince of Peace. A sixth has the eloquence of
Apollos; and he can stand up in a public assembly, and arrest the
attention and move the heart of every hearer: let him cry aloud and
spare not, and merit the title of the orator of peace. The ministers of
Christ from the pulpit (and it is no improper theme for that hallowed
place) can lead their audience to a sight of the sources of wars,
those lusts which war in the members, and unveil their deformity ;
and can display with success the charming beauties of peace on earth
and good-will to men.
To collect the force of all these into one centre, from which the
rays of light and heat may be emitted, in every direction, with more
powerful energy, is a thing of high importance. This effect an asso-
ciation will produce; and as we live in an age of societies to combine
individual efforts for public benefit, why should not one be formed
for promoting peace among the nations of the earth 2 If such a
society were formed, and were to exert itself with becoming activity,
in ten years' time the pacific principle would be so widely diffused
through every rank in the community, that it would be no easy
matter (the expression is too cold)—it would be inconceivably difficult
—nay, almost impossible, to prevail on the people of Great Britain
to engage in war. The subject, every one will allow, merits all the
attention that can be given it. We want a man, wise, good, benevo-
lent, and zealous, to lay the foundation stone of this temple of peace;
and aid in demolishing the capitol of war, that its stones may be
taken to build the walls of this sacred edifice.
O that He would call forth some wise, pious, enlightened, ardent
philanthropist, who shall form this determination in his heart, and
carry it into execution l—“To convince mankind that Christianity
forbids war, to banish the idea of its lawfulness from their creed, and
the love of its practice from their hearts; and to make all men seek
23
peace with their whole soul, and pursue it with all their might, till it
establish an universal reign over human nature, shall be the grand
object of my existence on earth.” And how exalted an object of
benevolence does he choose! The suffering of the tenants of a prison-
house, in comparison of the miseries of war, is but as the anguish of
a single family pining away and dying for want, when placed by the
side of a whole populous province desolated by famine, which has
consumed all its inhabitants. Even the more extensive calamities
of the African slave trade, drawn up in array before the ravages
and tortures and horrors of war, are but like the hill Mizar com-
pared to Lebanon. What blessings will not descend on the head
and heart of the man who devotes himself to the destruction of this
monstrous foe of human happiness?
The influence of the female sex is universally acknowledged and
felt. I want that influence to diffuse peace and love over the face of
the earth. I scarcely know how to address myself to respectable
matrons, who after nursing their sons with the tenderest affection,
send them away to the work of desolation, and rejoice at their
Šuccess—when they make women like yourselves widows, and their
children fatherless; or overwhelm an aged father and mother with
sorrow, because their boy perished in the field by your young hero's
sword: and then they praise God for what their sons have done.
A thousand times rather would I that God had said concerning me
—“Write this man childless”—than that a son of mine had ever
imbrued his hands in the blood of man his brother.
A greater number of celebrated female writers than the present,
no age has produced. But what grave essay in prose, or what
poetic effusion of yours, do we find to bring war into disgrace, and
to awaken the horror of every feeling heart against its miseries and
its crimes? In which of your works have you come forth as the
advocates of humanity and the champions of peace? Tell me, that
I may withdraw the censure. You are silent: you blush at this
reproach, and well you may :—they may justly be the most burning
blushes that ever reddened the female cheek. Had you employed
your tender eloquence in the cause of humanity and peace, ten
thousands of ingenuous youths, whose hearts' flood was poured out
on the ground, and whose faces were bloodless and pale in death,
as they lay in the open field,—had been spared, and now adorning
24
both the domestic circle and society with their presence and their
affection. To speak thus grieves me to the heart; but I am compelled
to do it—for there are seasons when truth must be spoken, however
painful it may be both to the speaker and the auditor. You blush
for your neglect: but I must have more than blushes—I want fruits
meet for repentance. My earnest wish is to see you become the
determined foes of war, and the most ardent friends of peace. I
long to hear you plead with all your souls (and who can plead like
you?) for the harmony of the world, and peace among the nations. If
every intelligent and pious and benevolent female would engage heart
and hand in the work, the success would be beyond conception great.
Oh! if all the ministers of the Gospel would unite in this labour
of love and work of peace, what wonders would be done ! What
an amazing change for the better would be produced | Shall I
bring arguments to convince or motives to induce you to ſift up
your voice for the peace of the world? I will not bring one. If
you refuse your aid—“go, strip yourselves of the robes of office,
depart and officiate at the altars of some savage idol, who delights in
slaughter and in blood.” But why do I speak thus : Surely none
of you, my brethren, will refuse to come forth to the help of the
Lord against the mighty foes of human happiness. On the contrary,
each will exert himself in the glorious cause, and endeavour to excel
every other, in maintaining the honour of the Prince of Peace; and
strive that there may not be an individual in his flock who has not
imbibed the principles of peace. Such a union of efforts will, through
the divine blessing, infallibly gain the day; and in prayer for this
blessing, let every heart be continually lifted up to the God of all
grace |
R. Clay, Printer, 7, Breat Street is ill, Cheapside.
Tract No. VII. of the Society for the Promotion of
Permanent and Universal Peace.
OBSERVATIONS
{ON THE
A PPLICA BI LITY OF THE
PACIFIC PRINCIPLES OF THE NEW TESTAMENT
TO THE
Cottbutt of §tattg:
AND
ON THE LIMITATIONS WHICH THOSE PRINCIPLES IMPOSE
ON THE RIGHTS OF
S E L F-D EF E N C E.
-- ~< **—
BY JONATHAN DYMON D.
STEREOTYPE EDITION.
39.01170 it :
PRINTED BY R. CLAY, BREAD-STREET-HILL ;
SOLID BY
H A MILTO N, A D A MS, & CO. PATE R N O S T E R ROW ;
BY ALL OTHER BOOKSELLERs ; AND
AT THE DEPOSITORY, STAR COURT, BREAD streeT, CHEAPSIDE.
1832.
Price 2d.
The object of THE SOCIETY for the PROMOTION
of PERMAN ENT and UNIVERSAL PEACE, is to
print and circulate Tracts, and to diffuse information tend-
ing to shew that War is inconsistent with the spirit of
Christianity, and the true interests of mankind; and to
point out the means best calculated to maintain Permanent
and Universal Peace, upon the basis of Christian Principles.
Its labours are not limited by Local attachments, nor cir-
cumscribed by Geographical Boundaries, but extend to the
whole human race.
RoBERT MARS DEN, Esq. Chairman.
SAMUEL GURNEY, Esq. Treasurer.
Rev. JAMES HARG REAVEs, Honorary Home Secretary.
Rev. THOMAS Wood, Honorary Foreign Secretary.
Joh N BE VANs, Assistant Secretary and Collector.
*-
*** It is requested that all Communications may be for-
warded to the respective Officers of the PEACE Society,
directed to the DE POSITORY, Star Court, Bread Street,
Cheapside.
OBSERVATIONS, &c.
THAT Christianity is a system of Peace, and that its principles
are utterly incompatible with the violent passions—with the in-
flicting of injuries—with retaliation and revenge,_are truths on
which, since no one disputes them, it is not necessary to insist.
The pacific precepts of the New Testament are so reiterated,
they are enforced by such awful sanctions, and the consequent
duties of forbearance and love are so interwoven with the whole
system of Christianity, that none can question the obligation
of those duties without questioning the authority of Christianity
itself. .
Yet it is found, that the ordinary practice of mankind, indivi-
dually and nationally, is inconsistent with these duties, and that
the systems of moralists are far indeed from enforcing their obli-
gation, in that degree, or to that extent, in which they are en-
forced by the New Testament: so that although we acknowledge,
in general language, the authority of the pacific precepts of the
Gospel, yet in the application of these precepts to our conduct
in life, we find endless excuses for disobeying them, and endless
casuistry to justify our disobedience. It is the purpose of the
present Essay to offer some observations upon this casuistry and
these excuses.
There have been several works recently published, to diffuse and
advocate the sentiment, that War is absolutely incompatible with the
B 2
4
Christian religion. To these the reader is referred”: a perusal
of some of them, previously to the examination of the present
Essay, would enable him more accurately to appreciate the obser-
vations which it contains; since he would thus be led, from the
contemplation of the pure and authoritative precepts of Chris-
tianity, to the consideration of those arguments which are urged
in opposition to them by philosophical morality, and which are
adduced from considerations of expediency and self-preservation.
The argument to which, perhaps, the greatest importance is
attached by the advocate of war, and by which thinking men are
chiefly induced to acquiesce in its lawfulness, is this :—That a
distinction is to be made between rules mhich apply to us as indivi-
duals, and rules nºbich apply to us as subjects of the state; and that
the pacific injunctions of Christ in his sermon on the mount, and all
the other kindred commands and prohibitions of the Christian Scrip-
tures, have no reference to our conduct as Members of the political
body. It should be observed, in relation to this argument, that
some of those who so think, acknowledge that the peaceable, for-
bearing, forgiving dispositions of Christianity, are absolutely obli-
gatory upon individuals in their full extent: this acknowledgment
the reader is solicited to bear in his recollection.
Now it is obvious, that the proof of the rectitude of this
distinction must be expected from those who make it. Chris-
tianity propounds general rules, of which, in some cases, the
advocate of War denies the applicability. He, therefore, is to
produce the reason and the authority for the exception. Now we
would remind him that general rules are binding, unless their
inapplicability can be clearly shown. We would remind him that
the general rules in question are laid down by the commissioned
* See the other Tracts of the Society for the Promotion of Permanent and
Universal Peace ;-1st. The Substance of a Pamphlet entitled, A Solemn Review of
the Custom of War, &c.—2d. War inconsistent with the Doctrines and Example
of Jesus Christ. By J. Scott.—3d. An Essay on the Doctrines and Practice of
the Early Christians as they relate to War, &c. By Thomas Clarkson, M. A.—
4th. Extracts from the Writings of Erasmus, on the Subject of War.—5th. Sketches
of the Horrors of War, chiefly selected from Labaume's Narrative of the Cam-
paign in Russia in 1812. By Evan Rees.—6th. On Universal Peace; being Ex-
tracts from a Discourse delivered in October, 1813, by Rev. David Bogue, D. D.
5
ministers of Jesus Christ, and by Jesus Christ himself; and we
would recommend him therefore, to hesitate before he institutes
exceptions to those rules, upon any authority inferior to the au-
thority which made them.
The foundation for the distinction between the duties of indi-
viduals and those of communities, must, we suppose, be sought
in one of these two positions:
1. That as no laws exist, of general authority amongst nations,
by which one state is protected from the violence of another, it is
necessary that each independent community should protect itself:
and that the security of a nation cannot sometimes be maintained
otherwise than by War.
2. That as the general utility and expediency of actions is the
foundation of their moral qualities, and as it is sometimes most
conducive to general utility and expediency that there should be
a war; war is therefore, sometimes, lawful.
The first of these positions will probably be thus enforced. If
an individual suffers aggression, there is in every state an acknow-
ledged, legal, and constitutional power to which he can apply, that
is above himself and above the aggressor; a power by which the
bad passions of those around him are restrained, or by which
their aggressions are punished. But amongst nations there is no
acknowledged superior or common arbitrator. War, therefore, is
the only means which one nation possesses of protecting itself from
the aggression of another.
This, certainly, is plausible reasoning: but it happens to this
argument as to many others, that it assumes that as established,
which has not been proved, and upon the proof of which the truth
of the whole argument depends. It assumes, That the reason
why an individual is not permitted to use violence, is, that the
lans will use it for him. And in this the fallacy of the position
consists: for the foundation of the duty of forbearance in private
life is not that the laws will punish aggression, but that Christianity
requires forbearance. Undoubtedly, if the existence of a common
arbitrator were the only foundation of the duty of forbearance,
the duty would not be binding upon nations. But that which we
require to be proved is this—that Christianity exonerates nations
from those duties which she has imposed upon individuals. This,
6
the present argument does not prove; and, in truth, with a singu-
lar unhappiness in its application, it assumes, in effect, that she has
imposed these duties upon neither the one nor the other.
If it be said that Christianity allows to individuals some degree
and kind of resistance, and that some resistance is therefore lawful
to states, we do not deny it. But if it be said that the degree of
lawful resistance extends to the slaughter of our fellow-Christians—
that it extends to war—we do deny it: We say that the rules of
Christianity" cannot, by any possible latitude of interpretation, be
made to extend to it. The duty of forbearance, then, is antecedent
to all considerations respecting the political condition of man; and
whether he be under the protection of laws or not, the duty of
forbearance is imposed.
The only truth which appears to be elicited by the present
argument, is, that the difficulty of obeying the forbearing rules
of Christianity, is greater in the case of nations than in the case
of individuals: The obligation to obey them is the same in both.
Nor let any one urge the difficulty of obedience in opposition to
the duty; for he who does this, has yet to learn one of the most
awful rules of his religion—a rule that was enforced by the pre-
cepts, and more especially by the example, of Christ, of apostles
and of martyrs, the rule which requires that we should be “obe-
It is not however to be inferred, that we believe the task of
forbearance would be as difficult in practice as it appears to be in
theory. Our interests are commonly promoted by the discharge
of our duties, and we hope hereafter to demonstrate, that the
practice of the duty of forbearance is not likely to form any ex-
emption to this general result.
And, with respect to the second position—That War is justified
by eacpediency, we shall quote the reasoning of one of its ablest
advocates, Dr. Paley ; and attempt to examine it by such prin-
ciples as appear to us to be simple, sound, and christian.
“The only distinction,” says he, “that exists between the case
* When we speak of the Rules of Christianity, we refer not only to its express
precepts, but to the duties which necessarily result from its moral principles—from
the spirit and great characteristics of the whole system.
7
of independent states and independent individuals, is founded in
this circumstance; that the particular consequence sometimes
appears to exceed the value of the general rule;” or, in less tech-
nical words, that a greater disadvantage may arise from obeying
the commands of Christianity, than from transgressing them.
Fapediency, it is said, is the test of moral rectitude, and the standard
of our duty. If we believe that it will be most expedient to disregard
the general obligations of Christianity, that belief is the justifying
motive for disregarding them. Dr. Paley proceeds to say, “In the
transactions of private persons, no advantage that results from the
breach of a general law of justice, can compensate to the public
for the violation of a law; in the concerns of empire this may
sometimes be doubted.” He says there may be cases in which the
“magnitude of the particular evil induces us to call in question the
obligation of the general rule.”—“Situations may be feigned, and
consequently may possibly arise, in which the general tendency is
outweighed by the enormity of the particular mischief.” Of the
doubts which must arise as to the occasions when the “obligation”
of christian laws ceases, he however says, that “moral philosophy
furnishes no precise solution;” and he candidly acknowledges “the
danger of leaving it to the sufferer to decide upon the comparison of
particular and general consequences, and the still greater danger of
such decisions being drawn into future precedents. If treaties,
for instance, be no longer binding than while they are convenient,
or until the inconveniency ascend to a certain point, (which point
must be fixed by the judgment, or rather by the feelings of the
complaining party,)—one, and almost the only method of averting
or closing the calamities of war, of preventing or putting a stop
to the destruction of mankind, is lost to the world for ever.” And
in retrospect of the indeterminateness of these rules of conduct, he
says finally, “these however are the principles upon which the
calculation is to be formed.” And thus does Dr. Paley indirectly
admit the insufficiency of christian principles on occasions which
most materially affect the happiness and welfare of mankind!!!
It is obvious that this reasoning proceeds upon the principle that
it is lanful to do evil that good may come. If good will come by
* Moral and Political Philosophy, Chap. “Of War and Military Establishments.”
8
violating a treaty, we may violate it.” If good will come by
slaughtering other men, we may slaughter them. We know that
the advocate of Expediency will tell us, that that is not evil of which
good, in the aggregate, comes; and that the good or evil of actions
consists in the good or evil of their general consequences.—We
appeal to the understanding and the conscience of the reader—Is
this distinction honest to the meaning of the apostle? Did he intend
to tell his readers that they might violate their solemn promises,
that they might destroy their fellow-christians, in order that good
might come 2 If he did mean this, surely there was little truth in
the declaration of the same apostle, that he used great plainness of
speech.
We are told that “whatever is eaſpedient is right.” We shall not
quarrel with the dogma; but how is expediency to be determined 2
By the calculations and guessings of men, or by the knowledge and
foresight of God? Expediency may be the test of our duties, but
what is the test of expediency —Obviously, we think, it is this;
the decisions which God has made known respecting nhat is best for
man. Calculations of Expediency, of “particular and general
consequences,” are not intrusted to us, for this most satisfactory s
reason—that we cannot make them. The calculation, to be any
thing better than vague guessing, requires prescience; and where
is prescience to be sought 7 Now it is conceded by our opponents,
that the only Possessor of prescience has declared that the for-
bearing, non-resisting character, is best for man. t Yet we are told
that sometimes it is not best, that sometimes it is “inexpedient.”
How do we discover this 2 The Promulgator of the law has
never intimated it. Whence, then, do we derive the right of sub-
stituting our computations for his prescience : Or having obtained
it, what is the limit to its exercise ? If, because we calculate that
obedience will not be beneficial, we may dispense with his laws in
one instance, why may we not dispense with them in ten? Why may
we not abrogate them altogether ?
The right is however claimed ; and how is it to be exercised ?
* Moral and Political Philosophy, Chap. Of War and Military Establish-
monts.”
f An admirable illustration and defence of this truth will be found in another
work of Dr. Paley's, See Evidences of Christianity, Part II. Chap. II.
9
We are told that the duty of obedience “may sometimes be
doubted"—that in some cases we are induced to “call in question”
the obligation of the christian rule that “ situations may be
feigned,” that circumstances “may possibly arise,” in which we
are at liberty to dispense with it—that still it is dangerous to leave
“it to the sufferer to decide” when the obligation of the rule
ceases; and that of all these doubts “philosophy furnishes no precise
solution!”—We know not how to contend against such principles
as these. An argument might be repelled; the assertion of a fact
might be disproved ; but what answer can be made to “possi-
bilities” and “doubts?” They who are at liberty to guess that
christian laws may sometimes be suspended, are at liberty to guess
that Jupiter is a fixed star, or that the existence of America is a fic-
tion. What answer the man of science would make to such sup-
positions we do not know, and we do not know what answer to
make to ours. Amongst a community which had to decide on the
“particular and general consequences” of some political measure
which involved the sacrifice of the principles of Christianity, there
would of necessity be an endless variety of opinions. Some would
think it expedient to supersede the law of Christianity, and some
would think the evil of obeying the law, less than the evil of
transgressing it. Some would think that the “particular mischief.”
outweighed the “general rule,” and some that the “general rule”
outweighed the “particular mischief.” And in this chaos of
opinion, what is the line of rectitude, or how is it to be discovered?
Or is that rectitude which appears to each separate individual to
be right? And are there as many species of truth, as there are
discordancies of opinion?—Is this the simplicity of the Gospel?
Is this the path in which a wayfaring man, though a fool, shall
not err 7
These are the principles of Expediency on which it is argued that
the duties which attach to private life do not attach to citizens.—
We think it will be obvious to the eye of candour, that they are
exceedingly indeterminate and vague. Little more appears to be
done by Dr. Paley than to exhibit their doubtfulness. In truth, we
do not know whether he has argued better in favour of his posi-
tion, or against it. To us it appears that he has evinced it to be
fallacious; for we do not think that any thing can be Christian
| 0
Truth, which cannot be more distinctly proved. But whatever
may be thought of the conclusion, the reader will certainly perceive
that the whole question, as handled by Dr. Paley, is involved in
extreme vagueness and indecision: an indecision and vagueness,
which it is difficult to conceive that Christianity ever intended
should be hung over the very greatest question of practical mora-
lity that man has to determine; over the question that asks whether
the followers of Christ are at liberty to destroy one another. That
war is, under any circumstances, sanctioned by Christianity, from
whose principles it is acknowledged to be “abhorrent,” ought to
be clearly made out. It ought to be obvious at once. It ought
not to be necessary to ascertaining it, that a critical investigation
should be made, of questions which ordinary men cannot compre-
hend, and which, if they comprehended them, they could not
determine; and, above all, that investigation ought not to end, as
we have seen it does end, in vague indecision—in “doubts,” of
which even “philosophy furnishes no precise solution.” But
when this indecision and vagueness are brought to oppose the
christian evidence for peace—when it is contended, not only that
it militates against that evidence, but that it outbalances and super-
sedes it—we would say of such an argument that it is not only
weak, but idle: of such a conclusion, that it is not only unsound,
but preposterous.
That the pacific injunctions of the Christian Scriptures do apply
to us under every circumstance of life, whether private or public,
is evident from the universality of christian obligation. The lan-
guage of Christianity, upon the obligation of her moral laws, is
essentially this—“What I say unto you, I say unto all.” The
pacific laws of our religion, then, are binding upon all men; upon
the King, and upon every individual who advises him, upon every
member of a legislature, upon every officer and agent, and upon
every private citizen. How then can that be lawful for a body of
men which is unlawful for each individual? How, if one be disobe-
dient, can his offence make disobedience lawful to all? We maintain
yet more, and say, that to dismiss christian benevolence as subjects,
and to retain it as individuals, is simply impossible. He who
possesses that subjugation of the affections, and that universality
of benevolence, by which he is influenced to do good to those who
1 I
hate him, and to love his enemies in private life, cannot, without
abandoning those dispositions, kill other men because they are
called public enemies.
The whole position, therefore, that the pacific commands and
prohibitions of the Christian Scriptures do not apply to our con-
duct as subjects of a state, appears to be a fallacy. Some of the
arguments which are brought to support it, so flippantly dispense
with the principles of Christian Obligation, so gratuitously assume
that because obedience may be difficult, obedience is not required,
that they are rather an excuse for the distinction than a justification
of it—and some are so lamentably vague and indeterminate, the
principles which are proposed are so technical, so inapplicable to the
circumstances of society, and in truth, so incapable of being prac-
tically applied, that it is not credible that they were designed to
suspend the obligation of rules, which were imposed by a Reve-
lation from Heaven.
We refer again to Dr. Paley. After the defensibility of War
has been proved, or assumed, in the manner which we have exhi-
bited, he states the occasions upon which he determines that wars
become justifiable. “The objects of just war,” says he, “are
precaution, defence, or reparation.”—“Every just war supposes an
injury perpetrated, attempted, or feared.
We shall acknowledge, that if these be justifying motives to war,
we see very little purpose in talking of morality upon the subject.
It is in vain to expatiate on moral obligations, if we are at liberty to
declare war whenever an “injury is feared.” An injury, without
limit to its insignificance! A fear, without stipulation for its rea-
sonableness! The judges, also, of the reasonableness of fear, are
to be they who are under its influence; and who so likely to
judge amiss as those who are afraid 7 Dr. Paley himself has told us
that “a man who has to reason about his duty when the temptation
to transgress it is upon him, is almost sure to reason himself into
an error.” The necessity for this ill-timed reasoning, and the
allowance of it, is amongst the capital objections to his philosophy.
It tells us that a people may suspend the laws of God when they
think it is “expedient;" and they are to judge of this expe-
diency when the temptation to transgression is before them —Has
I 2
Christianity left the lawfulness of human destruction to be deter-
mined upon such principles as these ?
Violence and rapine and ambition, are not to be restrained by
morality like this. It may serve for the speculations of a study;
but we will venture to affirm that mankind will never be controlled
by it. Moral rules are useless, if, from their own nature, they
cannot be, or will not be applied.—Who believes that if kings and
conquerors may fight when they have fears, they will not fight when
they have them not ? The morality allows too much latitude to
the passions, to retain any practical restraint upon them. And a
morality that will not be practised, we had almost said, that cannot
be practised, is an useless morality. It is a theory of morals. We
want clearer and more exclusive rules; we want more obvious and
immediate sanctions. It were in vain for a philosopher to say to a
general who was burning for glory, “you are at liberty to engage in
the war, provided you have suffered, or fear you will suffer an injury;
otherwise Christianity prohibits it.”—He will tell him of twenty inju-
ries that have been suffered, of a hundred that have been attempted,
and of ten thousand that he fears. And what answer can the philo-
sopher make to him :
Perhaps some of those who may be willing to give a patient
attention to other parts of our reasoning, will be disposed to
withdraw it, when they hear the unlawfulness of defensive war
unequivocally maintained. But it matters not ; our business is
with what appears to us to be truth: if truth surprises the reader,
we cannot help it—-still it is truth.
Upon the question of defensive war, we would beg the reader to
bear in his recollection, that every feeling of his nature is enlisted
against us; and we would beg him, knowing this, to attain as com-
plete an abstraction from the influence of those feelings as shall be
in his power. This he will do, if he is honest in the inquiry for truth.
It is not necessary to conceal that the principles which we maintain
may sometimes demand the sacrifice of our apparent interests. Such
sacrifices Christianity has been wont to require : they are the tests of
our fidelity; and among our readers we believe some will be found,
who, if they can be assured that we speak the language of Chris-
tianity, will require no other inducement to obedience.
13
The lawfulness of defensive war, is commonly simplified to the
right of self-defence. This is one of the strong-holds of the defender
of war, the almost final fastness to which he retires. The instinct
of self-preservation, it is said, is an instinct of nature; and therefore
mhatever is necessary to self-preservation, is accordant mith the mill
of God. This is specious, but, like many other specious arguments,
it is sound in its premises, but, as we think, fallacious in its con-
clusions. That the instinct of self-preservation is an instinct of
nature, is clear—that, because it is an instinct of nature, we have a
right to kill other men, is not clear.
The fallacy of the whole argument appears to consist in this,
that it assumes that an instinct of our animal nature is a law of
paramount authority. On the contrary, Christianity requires of us
that we restrain and keep under subjection to its precepts our
natural instincts or propensities; for he who will be at the trouble
of making the inquiry, will find that a regulation of these instincts,
and a restriction of their exercise, is a prominent object of the
Christian morality; and we think it is plain that this regulation and
restriction apply to the instinct before us, “If any man will be
my disciple,” says Christ, “let him deny himself, and take up his
cross, and follow me ; for whosoever will save his life shall lose it,
and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it.” Matt.
xvi. 24, 25. See also Matt. x. 37 to 39. We do not maintain
that any natural instinct is to be eradicated, but that all of them are
to be regulated and restrained; and we maintain this of the instinct
of self-preservation.
What, indeed, are the dispositions and actions to which the instinct
of self-preservation too often prompts, but actions and dispositions
which Christianity forbids? They are non-forbearance, resistance,
retaliation of injuries. The truth is, that it is to the principle of
defence that the peaceable precepts of Christianity are directed.
The principle of offence appears not to have even suggested itself.
It is “resist not evil;” it is “overcome evil with good;” it is “do
good to them that hate you ;” it is “love your enemies;” it is
“render not evil for evil;” it is “Whoso smiteth thee on one cheek.”
All this supposes previous offence, or injury, or violence; and it is
then that forbearance is enjoined.
“The chief aim,” says a judicious author, “of those who argue in
14
behalf of defensive war, is directed at the passions;” and accord-
ingly, the case of an assassin will doubtless be brought against us.
We shall be asked—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.t
We have referred to this utmost possible extremity, because we
are willing to meet objections of whatever nature, and because, by
stating this, which is enforced by all our prejudices and all our
instincts, we shall at least shew that we give to those who differ
from us a fair, an open, and a candid recognition of all the conse-
quences of our principles. We would however beg the same
candour of the reader, and remind him, that were they unable to
abide this test, the case of the ruffian has little practical reference
to war. We remind him of this, not because we doubt whether our
principles can be supported, but because, if he should think that in
this case we do not support them, he will yet recollect that very
few wars are proved to be lawful. Of the wars which are prose-
cuted, some are simply wars of aggression; some are for the
maintenance of a balance of power; some are in assertion of
technical rights, and some, undoubtedly, to repel invasion. The
last are perhaps the fewest; and of these only it can be said that
they bear any analogy whatever to the case which is supposed;
and even in these, the analogy is seldom complete. It has rarely
indeed happened that wars have been undertaken simply for the
preservation of life, and that no other alternative has remained to a
people, than to kill, or to be killed. And let it be remembered,
* The Lawfulness of Defensive War impartially considered, by a Member of the
Church of England.
t The reader will not suppose that when we maintain that the temper and spirit
of Christianity require us not to kill an assassin, we assert that no resistance ought to
be made to him. Although every attempt to specify the precise nature and degree of
lawful resistance would probably be vain, yet we are ready to allow that some species
of self-defence are lawful, and indeed obligatory. A man may expostulate with an
assassin—he may disarm him—these, and many other similar things he may do, and
in doing them he would, doubtless, not only consult his own preservation, but he would
be performing an act of very great benevolence towards the aggressor.
15
that unless this alternative only remains, the case of the ruffian is
irrelevant; it applies not, practically, to the subject.
We do not know what those persons mean, who say, that we are
authorised to kill an assassin by the lan) of nature. Principles like
this, heedlessly assumed as of self-evident truth, are often the
starting-post of our errors; the point of divergency from rectitude,
from which our after obliquities proceed. Some men seem to
talk of the laws of nature, as if nature were a legislatress who
had sat and framed laws for the government of mankind. Nature
makes no laws. A law implies a legislator; and there is no
legislator upon the principles of human duty, but God. If, by
wne “law of nature,” is meant any thing of which the sanctions
or obligations are different from those of Revelation, it is obvious
that we have set up a moral system of our own, and in opposition
to that which has been established by Heaven. If we mean by
the “law of nature,”
nothing but that which is accordant with
Revelation, to what purpose do we refer to it at all? We do not
suppose that any sober moralist will statedly advance the laws of
nature in opposition to the laws of God: but we think that to
advance them at all—that to refer to any principle or law, in
determination of our duty, irrespectively of the simple will of
God, is always dangerous; for there will be many, who, when
they are referred for direction to such law or principle, will regard
it, in their practice, as a final standard of truth. We believe that
a reference to the laws of nature has seldom illustrated our duties,
and never induced us to perform them; and that it has hitherto
answered little other purpose than that of amusing the lovers of
philosophical morality.
The mode of proving, or of stating, the right to kill an assassin,
is this:—“There is one case in which all extremities are justifiable;
namely, when our life is assaulted, and it becomes necessary for
our preservation to kill the assailant. This is evident in a state of
nature; unless it can be shewn that we are bound to prefer the
aggressor's life to our own; that is to say, to love our enemy
better than ourselves, which can never be a debt of justice, nor
any where appears to be a duty of charity.” If we were disposed
to hold argumentation like this, we would say, that although we
* Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy.
16
may not be required to love our enemies better than ourselves, we
are required to love them as ourselves, and that in the supposed
case, it still would be a question equally balanced, which life ought
to be sacrificed ; for it is quite clear that if we kill the assailant,
we love him less than ourselves, which may, perhaps, militate a
little against “a duty of charity.” But the truth is, that the
question is not whether we should love our enemy better than our-
selves, but whether we should sacrifice the laws of Christianity in
order to preserve our lives—whether we should prefer the interests
of religion to our own—whether we should be willing to “lose our
life for Christ's sake and the gospel's.”
This system of counter-crime is of very loose tendency. The
assailant violates his duties by attempting to kill me, and I, there-
fore, am to violate mine by actually killing him. Is his meditated
crime then, a justification of my perpetrated crime 7 In the case
of a condemned Christian martyr, who was about to be led to the
stake, it is supposable, that by having contrived a mine, he may
preserve his life by suddenly firing it and blowing his persecutors
into the air. Would Christianity justify the act 7 Or what should
we say of him if he committed it? We should say that whatever his
faith might be, his practice was very unsound; that he might
profess to believe the gospel, but that he certainly did not fulfil its
duties. Now we contend, that for all the purposes of the argument,
the cases of the martyr and the assaulted person are precisely
similar. He who was about to be led to the stake, and he who
was about to lose his life by the assassin, are both required to re-
gulate their conduct by the same laws, and are both to be prepared
to offer up their lives in testimony of their allegiance to Christianity;
the one in allegiance to her, in opposition to the violation of her
moral principles and her moral spirit; and the other, in opposition
to errors in belief or to ecclesiastical corruptions. It is therefore
in vain to argue that the victim of persecution would have suffered
for religion's sake, for so also would the victim of the ruffian.
There is nothing in the sanctions of Christianity, which implies that
obedience to her moral law is of less consequence than an adherence
to her faith; nor as it respects the welfare of the world, does the
consequence appear to be less ; for he who, by his fidelity to
Christianity, promotes the diffusion of Christian dispositions and of
17
peace, contributes, perhaps, as much to the happiness of mankind,
as he, who by the same fidelity, recommends the acceptance of an
accurate creed.
The reader is especially requested to consider, that if Christianity
allows us to kill one another in self-defence, she allows war, without
restriction to self-defence. Let us try what would have been the
result if the christian Scriptures had thus placed human life at our
disposal: suppose they had said—You may kill a ruffian in your
onn defence, but you may not enter into a defensive nar. The pro-
hibition would admit, not of some exceptions to its application—the
exceptions would be so many, that no prohibition would be left; be-
cause there is no practical limit to the right of self-defence, until we
arrive at defensive war. If one man may kill one, two may kill
two, and ten may kill ten, and an army may kill an army :—and
this is defensive nar. Supposing again, the christian Scriptures
had said, An army may fight in its on n defence, but not for any other
purpose:–We do not say that the exceptions to this rule would be
so many as wholly to nullify the rule itself; but we say that who-
ever will attempt to apply it in practice, will find that he has a very
wide range of justifiable warfare; a range that will embrace many
more wars than moralists, laxer than we shall suppose him to be,
are willing to defend. If an army may fight in defence of their
own lives, they may, and they must fight in defence of the lives of
others: If they may fight in defence of the lives of others, they will
fight in defence of their property: If in defence of property, they
will fight in defence of political rights: If in defence of rights, they
will fight in promotion of interests: If in promotion of interests,
they will fight in promotion of their glory and their crimes. Now
let any man of honesty look over the gradations by which we arrive
at this climax, and we believe he will find that, in practice, no curb
can be placed upon the conduct of an army until they reach it.
There is, indeed, a wide distance between fighting in defence of
life, and fighting in furtherance of our crimes; but the steps which
lead from one to the other will follow in inevitable succession. We
know that the letter of the supposed rule excludes it, but we know
that such a rule would be a letter only. It is very easy for us to
sit in our studies, and to point the commas, and semicolons, and
periods of the soldier's career; it is very easy for us to say he
No. 7. XE
H.8
shall stop at defence of life, or at protection of property, or at the
support of rights; but armies will never listen to us—we shall be
only the Xerxes of mortality throwing our idle chains into the
tempestuous ocean of human slaughter.
What is the testimony of experience 7 When nations are mutually
exasperated, and armies are levied, and battles are fought, does not
every one know that with whatever motives of defence one party
may have begun the contest, both in turn become aggressors ? In
the fury of slaughter, soldiers do not attend, they cannot attend, to
questions of aggression. Their business is destruction, and their
business they will perform. If the army of defence obtains success,
it soon becomes an army of aggression. Having repelled the in-
vader, it begins to punish him. If a war is once begun, it is vain
to think of distinctions of aggression and defence. Moralists may
talk of distinctions, but soldiers will make none; and none can be
made : it is without the limits of possibility.
But indeed, what is defensive war 7 A celebrated moralist defines
it to be, war, undertaken in consequence of “an injury perpetrated,
attempted, or feared;” which shows with sufficient clearness, how
little the assassin concerns the question, for fear respecting life does
not enter into the calculation of “injuries.” So then, if we fear
some injury to our purses, or to our “honour,” we are allowed
to send an army to the country that gives us fear, and to slaughter
its inhabitants; and this, we are told, is defensive war. By this
system of reasoning, which has been happily called “martial logic,”
there will be little difficulty in proving any war to be defensive.
Now we say that if Christianity allows defensive war, she allows all
war—except indeed that of simple aggression ; and by the rules
of this morality, the aggressor is difficult of discovery; for he
whom we choose to “fear,” may say that he had previous “fear”
of us, and that his “fear” prompted the hostile symptoms which
made us “fear” again.--The truth is, that to attempt to make any
distinctions upon the subject, is vain. War must be wholly for-
bidden, or allowed, without restriction to defence; for no definitions
of lawful and unlawful war, will be, or can be, attended to. If the
* We again quote the words of Dr. Paley in his Chapter on “War and Military
Establishments.”
19
principles of Christianity, in any case, or for any purpose, allow
armies to meet and to slaughter one another, her principles will
never conduct us to the period which prophecy has assured us they
shall produce. There is no hope of an eradication of war but by an
absolute and total abandonment of it.
What then is the principle for which we contend? An unreasoning
reliance upon Providence for defence in all those cases in myhich me
should violate His lan's by defending ourselves. The principle can
claim a species of merit, which must at least be denied to some
systems of morality—that of simplicity, of easiness of apprehension,
of adaptation to every understanding, of applicability to every cir-
cumstance of life.
If a wisdom which we acknowledge to be unerring, has deter-
mined and declared that any given conduct is right, and that it
is good for man, it appears preposterous and irreverent to argue
that another can be better. The Almighty certainly knon's our
interests; He has declared that they are promoted by the ob-
servance of his pacific laws; and if, therefore, he has not directed
us in the path which promotes them, the conclusion is inevitable,
that he has voluntarily directed us amiss.-Will the advocate of
war abide this conclusion ? And if he will not, how will he avoid
the opposite conclusion, that the path of forbearance is the path of
expediency Ż
It would seem to be a position of very simple truth, that it
becomes an erring being, to regulate his actions by an acquiescent
reference to an unerring will. That it is necessary for any of
these erring beings, formally to insist upon this truth, and systemati-
cally to prove it to their fellows, may reasonably be a subject of
grief and of shame. But the hardihood of guilt denies the truth,
and the speculativeness of philosophy practically supersedes it;-
and the necessity therefore remains.
Seeing that the duties of the religion which God has imparted
to mankind require non-resistance, it surely is reasonable to believe,
even without a reference to experience, that he will make our
non-resistance subservient to our interests—that if, for the purpose
of eonforming to his will, we subject ourselves to difficulty or
danger, he will protect us in our obedience, and direct it to our
benefit—that if he requires us not to engage in war, he will
20
preserve us in peace—that he will not desert those who have no
other protection, and who have abandoned all other protection,
because they confide in His alone.
And if we refer to experience, we shall find that the reason-
ableness of this confidence is confirmed. There have been thou-
sands who have confided in heaven, in opposition to all their
apparent interests: but of these thousands, has any one eventually
said, that he repented his confidence, or that he reposed it in vain?
—And if we choose to exclude all reference to futurity in the
contemplation of our interests, we believe it will be found that
even in relation only to the present state of existence, the
testimony of experience is, that forbearance is most conducive to
them.
Integer vitae scelerisque purus
Non eget Mauri jaculis neque arcu,
Nec venematis gravidā sagittis,
Fusce, pharetrá.
And the same truth is delivered by much higher authority than
that of Horace, and in much stronger language ;-‘‘If a man's
ways please the Lord, he maketh even his enemies to be at peace
mith him.”
The reader of American history will recollect that in the be-
ginning of the last century, a desultory and most dreadful warfäre
was carried on by the natives against the European settlers;–a
warfare that was provoked, as such warfare has almost always
originally been, by the injuries and violence of Christians !!! The
mode of destruction was secret and sudden. The barbarians some-
times laid in wait for those who might come within their reach
on the highway or in the fields, and shot them without warning;
and sometimes they attacked the Europeans in their houses,
* From
this horrible warfare, the inhabitants sought safety by abandoming
their homes, and retiring to fortified places, or to the neighbour-
hood of garrisons: and those whom necessity still compelled to
“scalping some, and knocking out the brains of others.’
pass beyond the limits of such protection, provided themselves
with arms for their defence. But amidst this desolation and uni-
versal terror, the Society of Friends, who were a considerable
proportion of the whole population, were stedfast to their principles.
2]
They would neither retire to garrisons, nor provide themselves
with arms. They remained openly in the country, whilst the
rest were flying to the forts. They still pursued their occupations
in the fields or at their homes, without a weapon either for annoy-
ance or defence. And what was their fate? They lived in security
and quiet. The habitation, which, to his armed neighbour, was
the scene of murder and of the scalping knife, was to the unarmed
Quaker a place of safety and of peace.
Three of the Society were, however, killed. And who were
they : They were three who abandoned their principles. Two
of these victims were men, who, in the simple language of the
narrator, “used to go to their labour without any weapons, and
trusted to the Almighty, and depended on His providence to pro-
tect them; (it being their principle not to use weapons of war to
offend others or to defend themselves); but a spirit of distrust
taking place in their minds, they took weapons of war to defend
themselves; and the Indians, who had seen them several times
without them and let them alone, saying they were peaceable
men and hurt nobody, therefore they would not hurt them,-
now seeing them have guns, and supposing they designed to
kill the Indians, they therefore shot the men dead.”—The third
whose life was sacrificed, was a woman, who “ had remained in
her habitation,” not thinking herself warranted in going “ to a
fortified place for preservation, neither she, her son, nor daughter,
nor to take thither the little ones; but the poor woman after some
time began to let in a slavish fear, and advised her children to
go with her to a fort not far from their dwelling.” She went ;
and shortly afterwards “the bloody, cruel Indians, lay by the
way, and killed her.”
* See “ Select Anecdotes, &c. by John Barclay,” p. 71–79. In this little
volume, we have found some illustrations of the policy of the principles which we
maintain in the case of personal attack. Barclay, the celebrated apologist, was
attacked by a highwayman. He made no other resistance than a calm expostu-
lation. The felon dropped his presented pistol, and offered no farther violence.
A Leonard Fell was assaulted by a highway robber, who plundered him of his
money and his horse, and afterwards threatened to blow out his brains. Fell
solemnly spoke to the robber on the wickedness of his life. The man was asto-
nished :–he declared he would take neither his money nor his horse, and returned
22
The fate of the Quakers during the rebellion in Ireland was
nearly similar. It is well known that the rebellion was a time not
only of open war, but of cold-blooded murder. Yet the Quakers
were preserved in a very remarkable manner. Strangers passing
by their houses and seeing them uninjured, with ruins on either
hand, would frequently, without knowing to whom they belonged,
say that they were Quakers' houses.” -
It were to no purpose to say, in opposition to the evidence
of these facts, that they form an exception to a general rule.—
The exception to the rule consists in the trial of the experiment of
non-resistance, not in its success. Neither were it to any purpose
to say that the savages of America, or the contending parties in
Ireland, spared the Quakers because they were previously known
to be an unoffending people, or because the Quakers had pre-
viously gained the love of these by forbearance or good offices:
we concede all this ; it is the very argument which we maintain.
We say, that an uniform, undeviating regard to the peaceable
obligations of Christianity, becomes the safeguard of those nho
practise it. We venture to maintain that no reason whatever can
be assigned, why the fate of the Quakers would not be the fate of
all who, relying on the protection of “The Prince of Peace,”
should adopt their conduct. No reason can be assigned why,
if their number had been multiplied ten-fold or a hundred-fold,
they would not have been preserved. If there be such a reason,
let us hear it. The American and Irish Quakers were, to the
rest of the community, what one nation is to a continent. And
we must require the advocate of war to produce (that which
has never yet been produced) a reason for believing, that al-
though individuals exposed to destruction were preserved, a
nation exposed to destruction would be destroyed. We do not,
however, say, that if a people, in the customary state of men's
passions, should be assailed by an invader, and should, on a
sudden, choose to declare that they would try whether Providence
them both.-“If thine enemy hunger, feed him, for in so doing thou shalt heap.
coals of fire upon his head.” -
* The preservation of the Moravians, too, whose conduct was pacific, was exceed-
ingly remarkable.
23
would protect them—of such a people, we do not say that they
would experience protection, and that none of them would be
killed. But we say that the evidence of experience is, that a
people who habitually regard the obligations of Christianity in
their conduct towards other men, and who stedfastly refuse, regard-
less of consequences, to engage in acts of hostility, do eaſperience
protection in their peacefulness: and it matters nothing to the
argument, whether we refer that protection to the immediate
agency of Providence, or to the influence of such conduct upon
the minds of men.
Such has been the experience of the unoffending and unresisting,
in individual life. A national example of a refusal to bear arms, has
only once been exhibited to the world: but that one example has
proved, so far as its political circumstances enabled it, all that
humanity could desire, and all that scepticism could demand, in
favour of our argument.
It has been the ordinary practice of those who have colonized
distant countries, to force a footing, or to maintain it with the
sword. One of the first objects has been to build a fort, and
to provide a military force. The adventurers became soldiers,
and the colony a garrison. Pennsylvania was, however, colo-
nized by men who believed that war was absolutely incompatible
with Christianity, and who, therefore, resolved not to practise it.
Having determined not to fight, they maintained no soldiers,
and possessed no arms. They planted themselves in a country
that was surrounded by savages, and by savages who knew they
were unarmed. If easiness of conquest, or incapability of defence,
could subject them to outrage, the Pennsylvanians might have
been the very sport of violence. Plunderers might have robbed
them without retaliation, and armies might have slaughtered them
without resistance. If they did not give a temptation to outrage,
no temptation could be given. But these were the people who
possessed their country in security, whilst those around them were
trembling for their existence. This was a land of peace, whilst
every other was a land of war. The conclusion is inevitable,
although it is extraordinary—they wanted not arms, because they
nould not use them.
These Indians were sufficiently ready to commit outrages upon
24
other states, and often visited them with desolation and slaughter;
with that sort of desolation, and that sort of slaughter, which might
beexpected from men whom civilization had not reclaimed from
cruelty, and whom religion had not awed into forbearance. “But
whatever the quarrels of the Pennsylvanian Indians were with
others, they uniformly respected, and held as it were sacred, the
territories of William Penn.” “The Pennsylvanians never lost
man, woman, or child, by them, which neither the colony of Mary-
land, nor that of Virginia, could say, no more than the great colony
of New England.t
The security and quiet of Pennsylvania was not a transient free-
dom from war, such as might accidentally happen to any nation.
She continued to enjoy it “for more than seventy years,”f and
“subsisted in the midst of six Indian nations, without so much as
a militia for her defence.”$ “The Pennsylvanians became armed,
though without arms; they became strong, though without strength;
they became safe, without the ordinary means of safety. The con-
stable's staff was the only instrument of authority amongst them for
the greater part of a century; and never, during the administration
of Penn, or that of his proper successors, was there a quarrel or a
war.”
We cannot wonder that these people were not molested—
extraordinary and unexampled as their security was. There is
something so noble in this perfect confidence in the Supreme
5
Protector, in this utter exclusion of “slavish fear,” in this volun-
tary relinquishment of the means of injury or defence, that we
do not wonder that even ferocity could be disarmed by such
virtue. A people, generously living without arms, amidst nations
of warriors! Who would attack a people such as this? There
are few men so abandoned as not to respect such confidence. It
were a peculiar and an unusual intensity of wickedness that would
not even revere it. *
And when was the security of Pennsylvania molested, and its
peace destroyed?—When the men who had directed its counsels,
and who would not engage in nar, were outvoted in its legisla-
ture:—when they, who supposed that there was greater security in
* Clarkson. t Oldmixon, Anno 1708. * Proud.
§ Oldmixon. | Clarkson, Life of Penn
25
the snord than in Christianity, became the predominating body.
From that hour, the Pennsylvanians transferred their confidence
in christian principles, to a confidence in their arms; and from
that hour to the present they have been subject to war.
Such is the evidence, derived from a national example, of the con-
sequences of a pursuit of the christian policy in relation to war.
Here are a people who absolutely refused to fight, and who incapa-
citated themselves for resistance by refusing to possess arms; and
these are the people whose land, amidst surrounding broils and
slaughter, was selected as a land of security and peace. . The only
national opportunity which the virtue of the christian world has
afforded us, of ascertaining the safety of relying upon God for de-
fence, has determined that it is safe. . + -- "
If the evidence which we possess do not satisfy us of the safety
of confiding in God, what evidence do we ask, or what can we
receive? We have his promise that he will protect those who
abandon their seeming interests in the performance of his will, and
we have the testimony of those who have confided in him, that he
has protected them. Can the advocate of war produce one single
instance in the history of man, of a person who had given an uncon-
ditional obedience to the will of heaven, and who did not find that
his conduct was nºise as well as virtuous, that it accorded with his
interests as well as with his duty? We ask the same question in
relation to the peculiar obligations to non-resistance. Where is the
man who regrets that, in observance of the forbearing duties of
Christianity, he consigned his preservation to the superintendance
of God? And the solitary national example that is before us, con-
firms the testimony of private life; for there is sufficient reason for
believing that no nation, in modern ages, has possessed so large a
portion of virtue or of happiness, as Pennsylvania before it had seen
human blood. We would therefore repeat the question—what
evidence do we ask, or can we receive?
This is the point from which we wander--we Do Not BELIEVE IN
THE PRovidence of God. When this statement is formally made
to us, we think, perhaps, that it is not true; but our practice is an
evidence of its truth—for if we did believe, we should also confide
in it, and should be willing to stake upon it the consequences of our
No. 7. C
26
obedience.* We can talk with sufficient fluency of “trusting in
providence,” but in the application of it to our conduct in life, we
know wonderfully little. Who is it that confides in Divine provi-
dence, and for what does he trust Him? Does his confidence induce
him to set aside his own views of interest and safety, and simply
to obey precepts which appear inexpedient and unsafe 7 This
is the confidence that is of value, and of which so little is known.
There are many who believe that war is disallowed by Christianity,
and who would rejoice that it were for ever abolished, but there
are few who are willing to maintain an undaunted and unyielding
stand against it. They can talk of the loveliness of peace, aye, and
argue against the lawfulness of war; but when difficulty or suffering
would be the consequence, they will not refuse to do what they
know to be unlawful, they will not practise the peacefulness which
they say they admire. Those, who are ready to sustain the conse-
quences of undeviating obedience, are the supporters of whom
Christianity stands in need. She wants men who are willing to
* suffer for her principles.
It is necessary for us to know by what principles we are governed.
Are we regulated by the injunctions of God, or are we not? If there
be any lesson of morality which it is of importance to mankind to
learn, and if there be any which they have not yet learnt, it is the
necessity of simply performing the duties of Christianity without
reference to consequences. If we could persuade ourselves to
do this, we should certainly pass life with greater consistency of
conduct, and, as we firmly believe, in greater enjoyment and
greater peace. The world has had many examples of such fidelity
and confidence. Who have been the christian martyrs of all
ages, but men who maintained their fidelity to Christianity regard-
less of consequences ! They were faithful to the christian creed;
me ought to be faithful to the christian morality; without morality
the profession of a creed is vain. Nay, we have seen that there
have been martyrs to the duties of morality, and to these very
* “The dread of being destroyed by our enemics if we do not go to war with
them, is a plain and unequivocal proof of our disbelief in the superintendance of
Divine Providence.” The Lawfulness of Defensive War impartially considered; by a
Clergyman of the Church of England.
27
duties of peacefulness. The duties remain the same, but where is
our obedience 2
We hope, for the sake of his understanding and his heart, that
the reader will not say we reason on the supposition that the world
was, what it is not; and that, although these duties may be binding
upon us when the world shall become purer, we must now ac-
commodate ourselves to the state of things as they are. This is
to say, that, in a land of assassins, assassination would be right.
If no one begins to reform his practice, until others have begun
before him, reformation will never be begun. If apostles, or martyrs,
or reformers, had “accommodated themselves to the existing state
of things,” where had now been Christianity? The business of
reformation belongs to him who sees that reformation is required.
The world has no other human means of amendment. If you be-
lieve that war is not allowed by Christianity, it is your business to
act consistently with such belief; and if fear or distrust should raise
questions on the consequences, or, if you seek to know why some
others differ in their views or conduct, apply the words of the
Saviour—“what is that to thee?—follow thou Me.”
Our great misfortune in the examination of the duties of Christi-
anity, is, that we do not contemplate them with sufficient simplicity.
We do not estimate them without some addition or abatement of our
own; there is almost always some intervening medium. A sort of
half-transparent glass is hung before each individual, which possesses
various shades of colour, and presents objects with endless varieties
of distortion. This glass is coloured by our education and our pas-
sions. The perfection of moral culture is to remove it from before
us; for then, and only then, we see the duties of Christianity as they
are. Simple obedience without reference to consequences, is our
great duty. We know that philosophers have told us otherwise:
we know that we have been referred, for the determination of our
duties, to calculations of expediency and of the future consequences
of our actions:—but we believe that in whatever degree this phi-
losophy directs us to forbear an unconditional obedience to the
rules of our religion, it will be found, that when Christianity shall
advance in her purity and her power, she will sweep it from the
earth with the besom of destruction. For God has promised that
“they shall not hurt nor destroy in all His holy mountain.” That a
28
period like this will come, we are not able to doubt: we believe it,
because it is not credible that He will always endure the destruction
of man by man; because he has declared that he will not endure
it; and because we think there is a perceptible approach of that
period in which he will say, “It is enough.” In this belief we
rejoice: we rejoice that the number is increasing of those who
are asking “shall the sword devour for ever?” and of those who,
whatever be the opinions or the practice of others, are openly
saying, “I am for peace.”t
* 2 S3m. xy.tv. 16. * Peºiſm cxx. 1.
R. Clay, Printer, 7, Bread-street-Hill, Cheapside.
Tract No. VIII. of the Society for the Promotion
of Permanent and Universal Peace.
AN
EXAMINATION
OF THE
PRINCIPLES
WHICH ARE CONSIDERED TO SUPPORT
THE PRACTICE OF WAR.
BY A LADY.
O glory, glory !—mighty one on earth—
& 4. * Q tº º
How many a wond'ring eye is turned to thee,
In admiration lost. Short-sighted men!
Thy furious wave gives no fertility—
Thy waters, hurrying fiercely o'er the plain,
Bring nought but desolation and distress,
And leave the flowery vale a wilderness.”
Russian Anthology.
STEREOTYPE EDITION.
3.0müom :
PRINTED BY R. CLAY, BREAD-STREET-HILL;
SOLD BY
HAMILTON, ADAMS, & Co. PATERNO STER Row;
BY ALL OTHER BOOKSELLERs ; AND
AT THE DEPOSITORY, STAR COURT, BREAD streET, cHEAPSIDE.
1832.
Price 4d.
The object of THE SOCIETY for the PROMOTION
of PERMAN ENT and UNIVERSAL PEACE, is to
print and circulate Tracts, and to diffuse information tend-
ing to shew that War is inconsistent with the spirit of
Christianity, and the true interests of mankind; and to
point out the means best calculated to maintain Permanent
and Universal Peace, upon the basis of Christian Principles.
Its labours are not limited by Local attachments, nor cir-
cumscribed by Geographical Boundaries, but eartend to the
whole human race.
RoBER'r MARS DEN, Esq. Chairman.
SAMUEL GURNEY, Esq. Treasurer.
Rev. JAMES HARGREAVES, Honorary Home Secretary.
Rev. Thom As WooD, Honorary Foreign Secretary.
John Bev ANs, Assistant Secretary and Collector.
*...* It is requested that all Communications may be for-
warded to the respective Officers of the PEACE SocIETY,
directed to the Depository, Star Court, Bread Street,
Cheapside.
ADVERTISEMENT.
The folloning Essay first made its appearance in “The Herald
of Peace,” for the year 1823, Vol. II. pp. 84 & 142, of the New
Series of that nork. The cogency of its arguments, and the instruc-
tive and interesting facts by which they are illustrated, have induced
the Committee of the Peace Society, mith the permission of the
Author, to adopt it as one of their Tracts. It is an additional
gratification that they are enabled in this Essay to present the
Public nith the literary labours of a female pen. The retiring and
unobtrusive character of the sex does not prohibit them from
employing their literary talents in the eaſposure and condemnation
of practices nºmich are subversive of the social and domestic virtues.
And may they be encouraged to eacert the ponyerful influence they
possess in favour of the Christian charities and graces, which are,
at the same time, the protection and the ornament of Woman.
August, 1825.
AN EXAMINATION, &c.
WHEN we retrace the history of Man, from the savage to the
civilized state, we see him at first the slave of corporeal wants, and
scarcely conscious of the possession of reflective powers, gradually
emerging from the obscurity of ignorance and barbarism, and exert-
ing his newly awakened faculties in the discovery of truths which
tend to raise him to the dignity of an intellectual being. We see
the inventive arts, originally confined to the manufacture of the
simplest necessaries, elevated, by the combined force of genius and
industry, till they contribute to the production of all that can gratify
or enlighten humanity. We contemplate the mind of man—once
barren as the desert heath, over which he roamed in search of food—
adorned by the culture of succeeding generations, and become capa-
ble of comprehending within its limits a vast extent of knowledge;
penetrating into the mysterious operations of nature, measuring the
distances of the heavenly bodies, and raising its speculations beyond
the boundaries of visible existence, to the regions of infinity. We
rejoice in tracing the development of mental energies,--we seem to
behold human nature emulating the perfection of a superior order of
beings, and we exult in the name of Man. But while we would fain
indulge without restraint the pleasing emotions of admiration of the
past, and hope for the future, our attention is painfully and irresistibly
attracted by one gloomy cloud, that overshadows the picture—one
dark thread interwoven throughout the varied tissue of history—
one deep and bloody stain, that pervades the whole current of human
affairs. Yes, the Savage has forsaken his abode in the rocks—
temples and palaces have arisen on the ruins of hovels—the day-
6
spring of religious truth has dispersed the shades of superstition;–
but throughout each changing scene—beneath the pure sun-beams of
gospel light, as amidst the thick darkness of paganism, in every age
and in every clime, WAR has maintained her desolating empire over
mankind. The sage, the patriot, and the philosopher, far from
repressing, have united in extending her wide-spreading sway:
Poetry has consecrated the harp to her praise;—Glory has entwined
with her choicest wreaths the blood-stained brow of the destroyer;
—she has seized the mask of liberty—profaned the name of religion,
and amidst the general shout of triumph, feeble and unregarded
have been the efforts of those few who have raised their opposing
voice against the common delusion,--who have sought to snatch
from the victor his ill-earned meed of applause,_who have dared to
deny that man has an absolute unalienable right of inflicting misery
and death on his fellow-man.
So universally prevalent has been the opinion, that an appeal to
the sword is both an effectual and justifiable method of deciding con-
troversies between nations; so extensively has this idea influenced the
temour of human institutions, pervaded the whole mass of literature,
and interwoven itself with the deeply-rooted prejudices of education,
that an attempt to prove the entire system to be founded in error and
delusion, incurs the risk of being classed among the schemes, of the
weak, though benevolent visionary. Yet if the impartial observer of
mankind were asked, What practice has given birth to the greatest
share of unmixed evil? he would answer—War. Or were he asked,
What custom is the most degrading to the character of a man, and
the most directly repugnant to the spirit of a religion professed by a
majority of the civilized world? he would still answer—War. Indeed,
that the practice of mutual slaughter should ever for one moment
have been deemed compatible with the doctrines of peace and
harmony, might well excite his unmingled surprise. The unen-
lightened judgment is too apt to follow the leading of passion ;
fixed habits of feeling and action are not easily broken through ; he
would not therefore wonder to see the untaught savage rushing with
blind fury against his brother; he would not start with astonishment
when he beheld the heathen, who devotes his children in flames to
the infernal deities, scattering death and terror around him, and
triumphing with fiend-like exultation in the havoc he has committed.
Their conduct might be excusable; it would be the natural result of
Amy
(ſ
previous association; but could he have conceived that a people
styling themselves followers of the Prince of Peace, should sanction
by their authority and example, the atrocious practice of immolating
human victims at the shrine of policy or ambition? a practice, which
to the Christian, who pretends to make Revelation alone the standard
of his conduct, is so positively forbidden, that to convince him of its
enormity, it might be thought sufficient to refer him to that standard.
The Scripture evidences on this point appear so clear and indis-
putable, that had we not seen the various denominations of Christians,
with few exceptions, united in despising or evading their force, we
might fancy it superfluous to offer them to the attention of the pro-
fessed believer. The advent of the long-expected Redeemer was
announced with the emphatic declaration of “Peace on earth,”—that
peace which, finding no place in the sanguinary code of pagan mo-
rality, it was one leading object of his heavenly mission to introduce.
He taught that the mortal state of man is but the infancy of his exist-
ence; that he is sent into this world not to revel in any gratifications
the world can afford, but by the exercise of self-denying vigilance,
and the participation of heavenly grace, to prepare for an entrance
into mansions of eternal bliss, or, by their neglect to plunge into
irremediable ruin. To him who habitually contemplates these
impressive truths, early allurements have lost their charm, terrestrial
power is contemptible; and it was thus by lowering the value of
those objects which have excited the bitterest contests among men,
that our divine Instructor sought to exterminate the seeds of dissen-
sion. In conformity with these principles, is the direct prohibition
of every wanton aggression upon the rights of another, every attempt
at selfish aggrandizement by the violation of another's interest.
And if the authority of Scripture be admitted as conclusive
against the sophistry of Ambition, not less unequivocal surely are
those passages which deny the assumed lawfulness of revenge. ,
Under a former dispensation, indeed, God had allowed to the weak- .
ness of mankind, perhaps in order to teach them more effectually
the measure of justice due from each one to his neighbour, a certain
limited right of retaliation. He had permitted them in specified
instances to demand “an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.”
But the Author of our faith expressly abrogated that dispensation,
given only to prepare the way for a purer and more spiritual doctrine.
He commands his disciples not only to abstain from resisting evil,
8
but to forgive the trespasses of others, even as they hope to be
themselves forgiven: not only to refrain from cursing, but to bless
their enemies; not only to bless, but to cherish towards them those
affections of sympathy and benevolence to which Christianity applies,
in its highest and holiest sense, the appellation of love.
Let us pause a moment for reflection, and seriously inquire
whether it be possible to evade the obligation of these precepts, but
by a process that would tend to annul the authority of all revealed
religion. Is it possible that any one who firmly believes the divine
origin of Christianity, can hesitate in acknowledging every deed of
violence towards man to be an act of rebellion against God 7 Or will
it be alleged that those doctrines which prohibit the resentment of
private injuries, are inapplicable to the case of public wrongs' What!
does the law forbid the murder of an individual, and does it license
the murder of thousands ! Does it bar the indulgence of angry
passions against an offending neighbour, and does it authorise feelings
of hatred, deeds of cruelty towards unoffending multitudes? Or, can
public authority alter the nature of right and wrong? Surely no man
can possess practically the principle of loving his enemy, but he must
love him under all circumstances. But who can love an enemy and
kill him f*
Again, while we observe the life of our holy exemplar, (remember-
ing that “If any man have not the Spirit of Christ he is none of his,”)
let us impartially consider whether it is conceivable that HE should
by any circumstances have been induced to employ the weapons of
earthly warfare. Or, perhaps, the dreadful inconsistency between the
military spirit and the spirit of Christianity may be brought more
immediately home to our bosoms, if we compare the dispositions
produced in the mind of man by the influence of piety, with the
temper that animates him to the work of destruction. Behold him
prostrate at the footstool of infinite mercy, seeking pardon for
unnumbered transgressions, and pouring forth his earnest prayer for
the universal prevalence of holiness and charity: hear him, while
arising from the posture of humble supplication, imprecate vengeance
upon his fellow-sinners; or, seizing the instruments of death, see him
rush into the field of battle, burning with ardent desire to precipi-
tate hundreds of his brethren into the presence of their all-righteous
Judge, before whose awfully strict tribunal he will most assuredly be
* Clarkson's Portraiture of Quakerism.
9
summoned, and where, face to face with his murdered foe, he will be
called upon to render an account for the blood he has spilt. Oh!
Christian, if you be indeed a disciple of Jesus, not in word only, but
in truth and sincerity, lay your hand upon your heart, and say whether
these things ought to be. Say whether it is possible that the all-
gracious Father should contemplate with approbation the mutual
destruction of his creatures, children of the same providence, heirs of
the same salvation, Explain if you are able with what consistency
the warrior can intreat to be delivered from temptation, or pray that
the will of God be done on earth as it is in heaven. But if you can-
not explain these things, then acknowledge that the spirit of Christ
and the spirit of war are utterly and for ever irreconcilable.
There are many, however, who, relinquishing, upon scripture
grounds, the right of retaliation, yet maintain that defensive war is
not only in itself just and necessary, but absolutely unavoidable.
To this it might be sufficient to reply, that if the requisitions of
the Gospel be without restriction, our obedience must also be uncon-
ditional. We are not at liberty to forsake the straight path of duty
upon motives of imagined expediency. We must not do evil that
good may come. The most effectual defence, moral resistance,
that which was perpetually practised by the Apostle Paul, and
exemplified in our Saviour himself, when interrogated before Pilate,
the Scriptures do indeed sanction; but forcible resistance never.
We may remark, too, that unreserved submission to the will of a
perfectly excellent and omniscient Being must be in the end most
truly expedient. The highest virtue is the highest wisdom.
Human intellect in its widest range embraces but a narrow and
limited prospect. Man sees but a part of the system of divine
government, and thence presumptuously judges of the whole. But
the Creator of the universe comprehends in a glance the vast chain
of cause and effect. His laws are therefore founded upon the most
perfect knowledge of consequences; and as they are the institutions
of infinite wisdom combined with infinite benevolence, entire obe-
dience must finally tend to produce the greatest sum of happiness.
The more enlightened we become, the more our minds are freed
from the beclouding influence of ignorance and selfishness; the
more distinctly shall we be enabled to perceive the grand purposes
of divine legislation. And even where the imperfection of our
vision prevents us from clearly discerning these purposes, it is
I 0
surely our safest, as well as wisest plan, by a strict adherence to that
rule which we are convinced is derived from more extended views
than we can possibly attain, to co-operate in their promotion.
But if the advocates of War refuse to encounter the arguments of
religion, we will not shrink from meeting them on their own ground.
We will undertake to prove that, even in the imagined strong-hold
of justice and expediency, their position is untenable, and that war is
the source of infinitely more injustice and misery than it professes
to remedy. It is not unusual, in discussing this subject, to hear
extreme cases brought forward as arguments that shall affect the
general conclusion. But this is not fair. There may be instances in
which a falsehood may save the life of an innocent man. Is it there-
fore inferred that lying is a justifiable practice, or that the principle
of veracity ought not to be inviolable 7 No: for the admission of
such an exception would be productive of far greater evil than its
unqualified rejection. Let the question then be placed on its broadest
foundation: Is the alleged right of warfare, upon the whole, a
benefit or an injury to mankind? In investigating this point, we
shall not attempt to deny, that under the superintendance of that
controlling Providence, which makes even the crimes of men sub-
servient to the ends of inscrutable wisdom, War may have been
occasionally employed as an instrument in the production of good.
It may sometimes have aided in diffusing the blessings of civili-
zation, and often have proved a means of humbling the pride, and
chastising the vices of nations. Perhaps, too, it may be intended
that its accompanying miseries should finally work out the extirpa-
tion of the principle in which they originate, and by displaying, in
the most forcible manner, the folly and mischief of contention,
enable us to set a higher value on the blessings of Peace. These
however are not the motives which impel men to engage in wars.
Where they are any better than the promptings of selfish pride,
veiled under a thin pretence of patriotism, it is commonly by an
idea either of the justice, the policy, or the necessity of fighting,
that every contending party is actuated. Let us, then, examine in
what degree the practice of war has contributed to the triumph of
justice. Each party usually professes to fight under her banners,
but the right cannot be enlisted on both sides, and can probably
remain with neither. Who, then, shall decide where it exists, and by
what principle shall it be determined how far the cause of justice
l 1
may be vindicated, without an infringement of her laws 2 If we
admit as a rule the equal retaliation of wrongs, it must be allowed
that any degree of punishment inflicted beyond the exact measure
of injury received, is unjust, and becomes itself a wrong, demanding
in its turn a similar repayment—thus opening the door to an endless
succession of hostilities. +.
It is worthy of notice, that nearly all those wars, by a series of
which Rome obtained the dominion of the world, were undertaken
on the pretence, not always unfairly alleged, either of self-defence,
or of generous protection afforded to her injured neighbours. From
the very circumstances of her settlement, Rome was early an object
of suspicion to the surrounding states: they attacked her repeatedly,
and she was victorious : her growing power spread the alarm into
remote provinces, and the Samnite and Tarentine wars, by the
conclusion of which Rome became mistress of Italy, appear to have
originated in the provocations she had received. It was under
pretence of defending the Mamertines, that she attacked the
Carthaginians, and conquered Sicily. At the commencement of the
second Punic War, she really acted in a great measure defensively;
but found it necessary, in her onn defence, to begin, and finally com-
plete the conquest of Spain. The Macedonian king had joined her
enemies, and she was obliged, still in her own defence and for the
protection of her allies, to reduce the whole of Greece to a Roman
province. She next discovered that the entire demolition of Car-
thage was essential to her own security; and it was by assisting her
Numidian friends that she acquired the sovereignty of the north-
west coast of Africa. The Romans afterwards applied their force to
check the devastations of Mithridates; and in consequence of their
success in this conflict, Syria, Armenia, and a great part of Asia
Minor, were compelled to submit to their yoke. In their wars with
the Gauls, the latter were certainly the original aggressors, and
furnished their enemies with the plea of necessity for subduing the
whole of Cisalpine Gaul, as well as a considerable territory on the
other side of the Alps. Then the Roman province was never secure
from the incursions of hostile neighbours, and the Gallic allies
demanded the assistance of Caesar against their enemies; these ene-
mies received aid from the Britons, and Caesar in short found himself
obliged to bring the whole of Gaul and a great part of Britain into
subjection. These instances have been adduced to prove that even
12
in those wars which, if we might judge by their results, seem the
least likely to admit of it, the plea of self-defence has been made
available:—and from an examination of modern history, similar con-
clusions would undoubtedly be obtained. All who have witnessed
the events of the last thirty years are competent to decide whether
the plea of justifiable resistance did not afford Buonaparte a fair
pretext for the commencement of his career of unbridled
ambition. 3.
Defensive warfare is therefore objectionable, not only on the ge-
neral principle that all war is unlawful, but because the admittance
of this exception has been in fact the base of the greatest proportion
of offensive wars. Few wars continue simply and entirely defensive;
and numerous are the instances, where a nation originally taking up
arms for her own protection, has become in her turn not only the
aggressor, but the conqueror of surrounding nations; and her rulers,
yielding to the ambitious desires generated by military success,
from the patriotic defenders, have been converted into the tyrannical
enslavers of their country. Despotic government at home...is one
of the most frequent and most fatal consequences of successful enter-
prise abroad. The Athenians had reason to be jealous of their
victorious generals. It will be found, too, in pursuing these in-
quiries, that those whose rights are to be so vigilantly guarded,—to
whose claims every other claim must be sacrificed, and whose dearest
interests are staked upon the event of a battle, are not in general the
great body of the people. They are almost always the elevated few,
the governors of the multitude, in whose concerns the thousands that
bleed and starve for them have no more natural participation than in
the affairs of their antipodes. For proofs of this assertion we need
not confine our research to the annals of despotism. Witness the
harsh aristocracies of the Swiss cantons during the middle ages;
witness even the boasted glories of Rome, whose citizens, when, after
extorting their freedom from the reluctant grasp of their senatorial
masters, they were contending against the attacks of foreign ene-
mies, scrupled not to detain under the most galling yoke of slavery,
a class of their fellow-men far exceeding themselves in number, or
to stigmatize with the most opprobrious epithets, and quell with the
most unrelenting fury, the desperate efforts of their victims for
emancipation.
But, putting the most favourable case;—suppose a petty state
J3
*
oppressed by her more powerful neighbour; she appeals to arms, and
after a series of severe and bloody struggles, in the course of which
the accumulated mass of individual suffering, probably, greatly out-
weighs the original grievance, the stronger party in ninety-nine
cases out of a hundred gains the ascendancy, and the vanquished
is compelled to submit to oppressions ten-fold redoubled,—to
insults ten-fold aggravated. History may present a few brilliant
exceptions, where the energy of real enthusiasm has overpowered
the force of multitude,-but they will not invalidate the general
argument—they will not shew that certain guilt and wretchedness
have not been incurred for the sake of contingent good—nor
will they prove that the same end might not have been attained
by far more efficacious and unexceptionable means. The best
cause committed to the hazard of war, is a lot thrown into
the vase from which fortune selects her favourites at random:
it is a complicated question of right and wrong, decided by the
barbarous ordeal of gothic superstition. Hear the opinion of one,
whom experience had probably better qualified than any other
human being to compute the chances of battle. “The fate of a
battle,” said Napoleon, “is the result of a moment—of a thought;
the hostile forces advance with various combinations, they attack
each other and fight for a certain time; the critical moment arrives,<-
a mental flash decides, and the forces in reserve accomplish the
object.”—And again, “The success of war depends so much on
quick-sightedness—on seizing the right moment, that the battle of
Austerlitz, which was so completely won, would have been lost if
I had attacked six hours sooner.” To such a chance then is the
cause of justice entrusted,—such are the hopes to which the lives
and liberties of millions are sacrificed!
In examining the expediency of War, upon the principles of
policy, some of those evils which are its inseparable attendants
will first be stated; and afterwards, by historical investigation, it
will be discovered how far either contending party has ordinarily
attained the object which each was willing to purchase at so enormous
a price. H
The existence of the immediate tangible miseries of war, H
famine, pestilence, and death, though too seldom realized to the
imagination, is too obvious to require proof.
Among the dreadful results of the military system, there are none
14
which deserve to be more impressively considered than its demoral-
izing effects, with regard to the actors: they are indeed such as
might naturally be anticipated, where man—intellectual man—
reduced to the state of a machine, is obliged at the will of a superior
habitually to commit deeds of sanguinary cruelty, the most revolting
to his unperverted feelings. Acts of treachery and violence, which
in private life would consign their perpetrator to perpetual infamy,
are in war accounted not only justifiable, but praiseworthy exploits.
Is it possible that such a relaxation of moral principle should
take place, without producing corresponding effects on the general
character? Look at an army, a body composed of several thousand
reflecting beings, subjected to the most degrading prostration of
will and understanding, and valued only in proportion to their
physical power: what a field for the destruction of every ennobling
virtue, every sentiment of humanity, generosity, and indepen-
dence 1 Even where the troops enter with unfeigned zeal into the
cause of their leaders, the result is not more favourable to morality.
Repeated acts of violence generate similar habits: the injuries
of the adverse party provoke reprisals,<-a system of mutual
ferocity ensues, and we not unfrequently see a whole people, who
had originally embarked with all the purity of mistaken enthusiasm,
in a cause of justice, changing characters with their oppressors, and
becoming in their turn the wanton perpetrators of every atrocious
outrage that can disgrace humanity. Of this fact the pages of
history unhappily furnish abundant illustration,-a few traits will
suffice.
Perhaps there never was a war undertaken from more disinterested
motives by the generals, or engaged in with more unanimous self-
devotion on the part of the soldiers, than the war of the French
royalists, in La Vendée. Hear the testimony borne to their cha-
racter in the beginning of 1794, by an eye-witness of their actions.
“Their bravery and enthusiasm had not effaced their natural gentle-
mess: their love and respect for religion, although unenlightened,
contributed to increase this sentiment. In the early part of the
war, before the atrocities of the republicans had inspired the desire
of vengeance and reprisals, the Vendean army was no less touching
by its virtues, than admirable for its courage. None of the dis-
orders which usually accompany war, stained the victories of the
royalists: towns entered by force were not pillaged, the vanquished
15
were never ill treated ; neither ransom nor contribution were
exacted,” &c. Now turn to a portrait of their conduct a few months
later, drawn by the same hand: “The fury of the peasants was
augmented by the battle and victory: they gave no quarter; in
vain did their chiefs cry out to the republicans, ‘Throw down your
arms and you shall be unhurt: the soldiers massacred them, not-
withstanding. When they arrived in the town, the carnage became
still more horrible. Monsieur de Lescure, who commanded the
advanced guard, had passed through Chatillon, in pursuit of the
fugitives, and had given order for the safe detention of several
hundred prisoners: the peasants, instead of obeying him, began to
murder them in cold blood: Monsieur de Marigny led them on.
The soldiers even levelled their pieces at Monsieur D'Elbée, and
others, who endeavoured to oppose them. As soon as Monsieur
de Lescure was informed of these horrors, he hastened to the
spot; sixty persons whom he had just taken threw themselves
about him, clinging to his clothes, and to his horse. He went
to the prison and the disorder ceased, for the soldiers respected him
too much not to obey him. But Monsieur de Marigny, frantic with
rage, exclaimed, ‘Begone, and suffer me to kill these monsters;
they were the incendiaries who burnt your castle.’ The massacre
was thus stopped at Chatillon, but many of the wretched fugitives
were assassinated in the farm-houses whither they had fled,” &c.
At another period, the writer adds, “ M. de Marigny continued to
give occasional proofs of cruelty; the other officers did not indeed
imitate him, but they no longer opposed his vengeance. It is
thus that civil war transforms the very nature of man. M. de
Marigny, one of the gentlest and best of men, had been rendered
blood-thirsty.” Nay, the amiable authoress says of herself, “I
confess that this day, finding on the road the dead bodies of many
republicans, I was urged by a kind of secret and involuntary rage
silently to spur forward my horse, and trample under foot the
remains of those who had killed M. de Lescure.”
During the opposition maintained by the Swiss Republics in the
15th century, against the unrighteous pretensions of France and
Austria, the following and other similar circumstances took place ;
“ They,” that is, the Swiss, “possessed themselves of Mont
Avenche, Payerne, Estavoyer, Yverdun, and many other places:
* Memoires de Madame de La Roche Jaquelin.
16
and frequently massacred in cold blood the garrisons of castles
taken by assault. At Les-cles, eighteen soldiers found alive in the
fort were beheaded by a valet, who only saved his own life by con-
senting to this odious deed. At Estavoyer, of all the garrison and
all the population, both of town and castle, only twenty-four sur-
vived, and the executioner attending the army was himself murdered
for suffering these, or other devoted victims, to escape.”
These instances have been intentionally selected from wars under-
taken with a sincerity and disinterestedness, which, if any principle
could have withstood the influence of habit and example, might have
been expected to preserve valour from the taint of barbarity. One
anecdote, however, from Schiller's History of the Thirty-years' War,
deserves insertion in this place; it relates to the taking of Magde-
burg, by the soldiers of the Catholic League: “Here commenced
a scene, to describe which history has no language, poetry no pencil.
Neither the innocence of childhood, nor the debility of old age;
neither youth, sex, beauty, nor condition, could disarm the fury
of the conquerors.” “Fifty-three dead bodies of women, who had
been beheaded, were found in the cathedral; the Croats amused
themselves in throwing children into the flames; Pappenheim's
Walloons in murdering infants at the breast. Some officers of
the Catholic League, shocked at these frightful scenes, entreated
Tilly to stop the effusion of blood. “Return in an hour,’ was his
stern answer, ‘ the soldier must have some renard for his toils.’
The massacre lasted with incessant fury until the smoke and flames
interrupted the plunderers. To augment the confusion, and prevent
the resistanceof the inhabitants, the town had been set on fire in
different quarters, a storm arose which spread the flames with
rapidity, and soon made them universal. The horrors of the scene
were augmented by the dead bodies, falling ruins, and streams of
blood; the atmosphere was heated, the intenseness of the vapour at
length compelled the conquerors to take refuge in their camp,” &c.
. . . . “The entire amount of the slaughtered was calculated at
thirty thousand.” The entry of the General took place on the 14th,
“ the neat day a solemn mass nas performed, and Te Deum sung
wnder a discharge of artillery / / /*
Such are, then, the demoralizing consequences of War. Now let
its effects upon the general prosperity of a country be observed.
* Simond's Switzerland.
17
The science of Political Economy is at present so well under-
stood, that it is no longer a disputed question, whether restrictions
upon the freedom of commercial intercourse are, upon the whole,
disadvantageous. The principle, that the wealth of every nation
is best promoted by her being enabled freely to dispose of her
superfluous produce, in exchange for the superfluous produce of
other climates, is adopted by the most enlightened statesmen of our
times. As the supply of every article is finally regulated by the
demand, it is reasonable to imagine, that if it were possible to re-
move all artificial restraints upon commerce, the balance of trade
would ultimately find its level throughout the world, and the greatest
sum of comfort and enjoyment accrue to mankind at large. But in
War, each party endeavours to injure the trade of her adversary,
by prohibiting the importation of her commodities; and the advan-
tages of a free market are thus unnaturally sacrificed on both sides.
Again, the strength of a nation consists not in the numerical amount
of its population, but in the proportion of productive labourers it
contains. War creates a vast number of unproductive labourers,
the expense of whose maintenance diminishes the profits of the rest
of the community. The most permanently advantageous employ-
ment of industry is in the production of those goods, the demand
for which is least liable to fluctuation. Now war calls into existence
a variety of trades and professions, the necessity for whose exercise
ceases with the cessation of hostilities, and a multitude of individuals
thus become unprofitable consumers, and at the return of peace are
thrown back a dead weight upon the country. When to these consi-
derations is added that of the absolute waste of necessaries always
occasioned by military measures, the magazines of provisions that
are destroyed in order to prevent their falling into the hands of the
enemy, we shall be tempted to doubt whether even the complete
attainment of the desired object would compensate, to either party,
the damage and loss attending its pursuit.
It will not, however, be difficult to show, that wars have generally
been, to all parties concerned in them, as fruitless in their end, as
injurious in their progress. Indeed, how should it be otherwise,
unless where the contest is so unequal as to leave the weaker party
entirely overpowered? The loss of a battle may render the people
desirous of a temporary respite from the miseries of war, but it
has no tendency to produce an adjustment of differences. Treaties
No. 8. B
18
of peace, the fruit, not of moderation, but of necessity, will be
observed as faithfully as they usually are—and, after a convenient.
breathing time, hostilities will be renewed on both sides with in-
creased animosity.* 4.
A work that should exhibit, in a brief, but comprehensive review,
a statement of the actual product of wars, with their counter-balance
of cost, from the earliest date of authentic history to the present day,
would be an invaluable treasure. As the present inquiries, however,
are necessarily restricted, by the limits of this Essay, within a short
period, the continental wars in which England was any way engaged
during the latter part of the 17th and the 18th centuries, will be
selected as their object. - -
No sooner had William III. ascended the throne of England, than
the nation engaged as a principal in the war carried on against France
by Austria, Holland, and Spain. Her intentions, as set forth in the
declaration of war, were to assist the Emperor of Germany, to
repel the encroachments of the French upon the Newfoundland
fishery, and to recover possession of Hudson's Bay,–to maintain
the interests of English commerce, and the supremacy of the English
flag,-to protect her Protestant fellow-countrymen in France, and to
oblige Louis to withdraw his support from the cause of the Stuarts.f
The Dutch complained chiefly of injuries to their trade; the Em-
peror, of the aggressions of Louis in general, and the seizure of the
* A few extracts from the Annual Registers for 1760 and 1761, will serve to
confirm and illustrate these remarks.-" If all the wars which have harassed Europe
for more than a century had not proved it, the events of the last campaign must have
satisfied every thinking man that victories do not decide the fate of nations. Four
most bloody, and, to all appearance, most ruinous defeats, which he suffered in that
year, had despoiled the King of Prussia of no more than a single town.” . . . . .
“Fortune has decided nothing by the events of five years' war. We have seen
armies, after a complete victory, obliged to act as if they had been defeated, and
after defeat, taking an offensive part with success, and reaping all the fruits of vic-
tory.” . . . “The balance of power, the pride of modern policy, has been the origin
of innumerable and fruitless wars. That political torture by which powers are to
be enlarged or abridged, according to a standard perhaps not very accurately ima-
gimed, ever has been, and, it is to be feared, will always continue, a cause of infinite
contention and bloodshed.” . . . “All parties in the diffusive operations” of modern
war, “ have, of necessity, their strong and weak sides. What they gain in one part
is lost in another, and, in the conclusion, their affairs become so balanced, that all
the powers concerned are certain to lose a great deal, the most fortunate acquire
little, and what they do acquire, is never in any reasonable proportion to charge or
loss.” . . . “This sort of balance being produced, the peace of conquest becomes im-
practicable. It would prove of infinite moment to the tranquillity of mankind, that
this point were sufficiently regarded, and that they would willingly adopt that system
of equality, to which, sooner or later, with more or fewer struggles, they are so often
compelled to submit.”
t Tindal.
19
Palatinate in particular. At the termination of seven years' war,
during which Italy, Germany, France, Hungary, and Spain, had been
deluged with blood; the commerce of England almost ruined, and
the burden of the national debtº entailed upon posterity, a tem-
porary suspension of hostilities was produced by the treaty of
Ryswick. By this treaty, the claims of the Palatinate were left to
arbitration: and although Louis gratified the honour of the Emperor
by demolishing the fortifications on the right bank of the Rhine, yet
subsequent events proved this boundary to be little more than ideal.f
In those places, which were restored to Austria, it was stipulated on
the part of France, that the Catholic worship should be continued
in the same state as it was then exercised; in consequence of which,
1922; churches were compelled either to abjure their religion, or
suffer the penalties attached to its profession. A memorial was pre-
sented to Louis in behalf of his persecuted Protestant subjects, but
upon its rejection they were abandoned to their fate. Let it never
be forgotten that a zeal for the Protestant cause was one of William's
ostensible motives for entering upon this war. To Spain, indeed,
the King of France made some apparent concessions, but with the
design, afterwards carried into execution, of more easily ensuring
the whole kingdom to the House of Bourbon; while, by leaving the
question of the Spanish succession undetermined, it became evident
that Europe was again to be the theatre of a new war, derived from
the very evils the late contest was intended to obviate. The
English on their part had deserted their German allies; the dispute
concerning Hudson's Bay was referred to future arbitration, and how
far the remaining objects of their declaration, as well as the freedom
of commerce to the Dutch, were eventually promoted, will be best
shown by the respective declarations of each nation in 1702. Here
the English remonstrate against fresh infringements of their com-
mercial rights, and against the continued countenance afforded to
the Pretender. The Dutch declare that “the Republic is deprived of
a barrier for which she had already maintained two bloody wars;”
* At the expulsion of James, the nation was encumbered with no other debt than
that of 664,2631. to the bankers, which was charged upon the hereditary excise, in the
12th of King William, and of 60,000l. to the servants of Charles the Second, which
was provided for in the first Session of Parliament after the Revolution. But in
consequence of the continued wars during the whole of King William's reign, above
61,000,000l. were voted by Parliament for the public expenditure, and on the 31st
of December, 1701, the nation was encumbered with a permanent debt of 6,748,780.
the annual interest on which amounted to 566,165l. (Rees' Cyclopædia.)
f Coxe's Memoirs of the House of Austria. 3: Ibid. § ibid.
B 2 8
20
and that “the late treaty was no sooner ratified,” than the French
recommenced their encroachments on her trade.” The House of
Austria claimed by right of inheritance, and by virtue of the par-
tition treaty signed in 1700, a principal part of the kingdom and
dependencies of Spain, which the French monarch had already suc-
ceeded in appropriating to the Bourbon family. England and Hol-
land also thought themselves interested in preventing the growth
of the power which might result from an union between these two
kingdoms. The King of France, of course, in his counter-decla-
ration, charged the allies with being the aggressors,t and asserted
the justice and necessity of self-defence. After all the sanguinary
battles fought in pursuit of these objects, between the years 1702
and 1714, the following were the principal conditions of the peace
of Utrecht. The grand aim of the confederacy, which had been
to effect a permanent separation between the French and Spanish
crowns, was secured only by an unguaranteed promise on the part
of the Bourbon family, that the two kingdoms should never be
united; a renunciation to which they readily consented, having
declared it to be null and void by the fundamental laws of France;
and one which, in the words of a protest entered in the House of
Lords, was so fallacious, that no reasonable man, much less whole
nations, could ever look upon it as any security.t The commercial
treaty procured for England was so exceedingly unfavourable to the
interests of trade, that the bill for rendering it effectual was rejected
by the Commons, in consequence of the numerous petitions against it
from merchants in all parts of the country. No alteration was pro-
duced in Louis's conduct towards the Pretender, by his enforced
recognition of the Queen's title. The Dutch were hurried into a
treaty, in many respects less advantageous than one by which their
pensionary Heinsius had declared they would lose the fruit of all the
blood and treasure hitherto expended. And with regard to Austria,
Marshal Villars justly remarked, that “after a war of fourteen years,
during which the Emperor and King of France had nearly quitted
their respective capitals, Spain had seen two rival kings in Madrid,
and almost all the petty states of Italy had changed their sovereigns;
a war which had desolated the greater part of Europe, was con-
cluded on the very terms which might have been procured at the
* Tinda!. + Ibid. # Ibid.
2]
commencement of hostilities.”* The grants of parliament in the
course of thirteen years had exceeded eighty millions, and at the
death of Queen Anne the debt amounted to 50,644,306l. requiring
2,811,903l. to be annually raised in taxes on the labour and pro-
perty of the people towards paying the interest of it.t
The next war in which England engaged, in 1718, had for its pro-
fessed object the protection of her merchants against the Spaniards:
it was also intended, by obliging the King of Spain to accede to the
quadruple alliance, to secure to the Emperor of Germany the un-
disturbed possession of Sicily. Philip was indeed forced to comply
with the demands of the allies; but the continued depredations
upon British vessels soon became again a subject of complaint; and
in 1735, at the termination of the Austrian war with France and
Spain, the dominion of Sicily was restored to the latter. -
The dreadful conflicts to which the disputed claim to the Polish
throne soon after gave rise, appear to have originated in the restless
ambition of all the belligerent powers, and led to the destruction of
the independence, and even national existence of Poland. Charles
the Sixth of Austria, by his uncontrollable love of war, reduced his
once flourishing dominions to the lowest state of degradation and
weakness. In 1739, England renewed hostilities with Spain on the
old pretence, and four years after entered into a new war with
France. At the peace of 1748, when a general restitution of con-
quests took place, nearly thirty millions had been added to the
national debt, the trade of the country was encumbered with addi-
tional customs and excise, and the nation, in regard to its foreign
possessions, exactly in the same state as at the commencement of
the war.ſ Nor had the continental powers, whose quarrels (prose-
cuted for seven years with the utmost animosity) were also decided
at the conferences of Aix la Chapelle, any better ground of satisfac-
tion. France had failed in her object of dispossessing the Austrian
princess of her hereditary dominions. Maria Theresa, whose con-
tested claims had been the original source of the war, was so little
pleased by its conclusion, that she was incapable of restraining her
chagrin, and informed the British ambassador, when he requested
permission to offer his congratulations on the return of peace, that
compliments of condolence would be more appropriate:$ while
* Coxe. # Rees' Cyclopædia. : Ibid. § Coxe.
22
the acquisition of Silesia by the King of Prussia, who seems to
have been the only gaining party, proved the cause of a fresh war,
which broke out in 1756, and which, supported by the mutual am-
bition of Frederick and the Empress-queen, and subsequently con-
nected with the disputes of the French and English respecting their
territorial limits in America, gradually drew all the states of Europe
within its focus, and extended its ravages to Asia, Africa, and Ame-
rica. With the hope of furthering her success in this war, Maria
Theresa relinquished the friendship of the English, to whose assis-
tance she had been principally indebted for the preservation of her
crown;–while by her alliance with France,—by her neglect of the
barrier towns in the Netherlands,-and by the family compact be-
tween the two houses of Bourbon, to which the events of the war
gave birth, -the whole system of continental policy, to the mainte-
nance of which the peace of Europe had been sacrificed for more
than a century, was at once overthrown.
“The pacification, which in 1763 terminated this war, placed the
affairs of Germany in precisely the same situation as at the com-
mencement of hostilities, and both parties (Prussia and Austria,)
after an immense waste of blood and treasure, derived from it no
other benefit than that of experiencing each other's strength, and a
dread of renewing the calamities of so destructive a contest.” The
English wrested Florida and Minorca from Spain, and restored them
again by the treaty of 1783. The differences between France and
England in the East and West Indies, and in Africa, were com-
promised by mutual concessions, and the national debt had been
augmented from 75,071,264l. to 146,582,844l. It was, however,
confidently asserted, that by the additional security which the acqui-
sition of Canada had afforded to her colonies in North America,
Great Britain would ultimately acquire ample indemnification for all
her losses, in the increasing trade and prosperity of the colonies, and
in the gradual diminution of her debt; which would result from her
being saved more effectually than by any other method from the
necessity of another war.t
But mark the short-sighted calculations of such politicians! It was in
order to lessen the weight of the debt incurred in the pursuit of these
very objects, that Great Britain made that attempt upon the liberties
* Coxe. # Annual Register for 1762.
23
of her American subjects, which, after reviving the horrors of war
on both sides of the globe, and costing the lives of a hundred thou-
sand British soldiers, terminated in the entire loss of those colonies,
and in the addition of nearly a hundred millions to the burdens o.
the nation. On the part of France, who had been drawn into the
American war, nothing was acquired by the treaty of 1783; the
Duch lost some commercial privileges, and the Spaniards simply
regained what they had been deprived of in the preceding war.
Such were the results of the conflicts that desolated Christendom
during a great part of the two last centuries. :
It is unnecessary at present to review the motives and conse-
quences of those wars which, beginning in 1792, were for upwards
of twenty years the source of more widely diffused misery, and a
greater waste of life and property, than has ever before been
known,--because Europe in general is now fully competent to
decide whether they have contributed in any adequate proportion to
the advancement of liberty and true happiness; and we may safely
leave England to determine how far they have ultimately tended to
promote her internal and commercial prosperity. - -
The vague notions of justice and expediency being set aside by
an attentive examination of facts, the defenders of War have re-
course to their last argument—it is that which upheld the Slave
Trade, and which has been employed to justify every injustice since
the world began—the argument of necessity. “We admit,” they
say, “the truth of all your statements: we allow that War is
scarcely ever effectual to the particular end proposed, and that it is
the source of innumerable evils; but still we affirm, that these evils
are unavoidable, and that a people who should regulate their conduct
by the pacific maxims you recommend, would be attacked and in-
evitably annihilated by their less scrupulous neighbours.” To this it
may be replied, in the first place, that the experiment has never been
fairly tried. We have, it is true, seen nations submitting to an
ignominious yoke, impelled by fear or imbecility; but where the
principles of action are totally different, we have no right to predict
similar results. The fashion of settling disputes at the point of the
sword has been pursued long enough to convince the most pre-
judiced observer that it is attended with incalculable mischief. Is it
not then at least worth while to try whether a contrary method might
24
not be productive of less evil? In the only instance on record, in
which such a line of policy has been steadily adopted, it proved
completely successful. We know that to the arguments in favour of
inviolable peace, adduced from the history of Pennsylvania, it is
commonly objected, that as William Penn and his followers had to
deal only with uncivilized Indians, the principles which were found
equal to their emergencies can afford no rule of action amidst the
complicated relations of European states. This is plausible. But
since the English, the Dutch, and indeed all preceding settlers had
been involved in perpetual hostilities with the natives, it must be
granted that if William Penn had never made the experiment, we
should have had precisely the same reason for maintaining the im-
practicability of establishing any colony upon peaceable principles,
which the present advocates of War allege against the possibility of
ensuring to these principles a universal reception.
“But how,” it is asked, “if the lawfulness of War be denied, is
liberty, that choicest blessing on earth, to be preserved?” Do we
then undervalue liberty 7 God forbid. No, we would cherish her
as the dearest gift of heaven, and at her altar we would cheerfully
sacrifice all the treasure we possess; all but the treasure of a pure
conscience and an unspotted life. The doctrine of non-resistance,
in the sense of unqualified submission, is alike degrading to the
character, and subversive of the rights of man. There does, how-
ever, exist a principle, which, though little appreciated, because
seldom brought into action, is yet fully adequate to the preservation
of liberty—the principle of MORAL RESISTANCE. Its power
is infinitely superior to the force of arms, not only because free from
the imputation of blood-guiltiness, but because not, like the opera-
tions of physical strength, liable to uncertainty in its effects. The
event of a battle is always doubtful; but the opposition of steady,
persevering non-compliance, no victory can subdue. No man can be
literally compelled to obey the commands of another. Would any
ruler attempt to invade the liberties of a nation, when he was per-
fectly assured that all his efforts would be utterly unavailing in pro-
ducing obedience to his decrees, and that, after baffling the last
resources of tyranny, resolution would remain as immoveable as at
the beginning of the contest ? It would be like attempting with a
knife to cut against the solid rock:—physical resistance is the clash
25
of opposing lances in the tilt-yard, where it is an even chance which
shall first shiver the other to pieces. Hampden did more for the
liberties of his country, when he steadfastly refused to submit to the
illegal imposition of twenty shillings, than when he took up arms in
defence of those liberties. And if all Englishmen had been Hamp-
dens, there would have been no Charles to tyrannize—no Cromwell
to usurp. -
With respect to internal reforms, experience has surely manifested
that they are seldom permanently effected by violence. It is by the
strong voice of public opinion—that voice, the power of which is daily
increasing, and against the unanimous expression of which no corrupt
system of government can long maintain its ground, that effectual
reform is alone to be accomplished. It was by the plan of passive
endurance—of calm unbending fortitude, that Christianity obtained
her footing among men. If the early Christians had flown to arms
in defence of their principles, the probability is, that they would
have sunk beneath the overpowering weight of numbers. But the
sword was not their instrument of warfare, and their weapons were
unconquerable by earthly force. The cause of Christianity, it is
true, was under the special protection of Divine Providence; but
may it not be added, that the same protection will be afforded to all
who, in a firm reliance on that Providence, conform their actions
unreservedly to the will of heaven? If it be said, that such a mode
of proceeding would involve a great deal of passive suffering, we
answer, first, perhaps not so much as is invariably produced by
measures of active resistance—and, secondly, that this system once
established, the practice of War would necessarily cease, as devoid
of object. 4.
We call upon all, who are capable of discerning the mischief and ulti-
mate inutility of War, to unite in diffusing those sentiments which will
lead to the discovery of some better means of adjusting differences,<
some “more dignified tribunal” than the field of battle. Why should
there not be a congress of nations* to combine the energies of all in
* Since this Tract was written, the official document relative to the settlement
of some differences between the Governments of Great Britain and the United
States of America, by arbitration, has been laid before Parliament by Lord Liver-
pool and Mr. Canning, or the author would probably have adverted to it. The
mode adopted by the two governments was, first, for each respectively to appoint a
commissioner to settle the points in dispute between them; and, provided the
26
the promotion of one common interest? Let us urge home to the
conscience and understanding of every rational creature, the neces-
sity of an adherence to fixed principles. Half the mischief in the
world arises from men's forsaking those grand general rules of Chris-
tianity which are calculated to secure the greatest eventual sum of
good, to go in quest of temporary expedients. It is this which fills
our streets with beggars, it is this which overspreads the earth with
slaughter. Perhaps it will be said that every general rule admits
of exceptions. True;—where these exceptions are deduced from
other general rules, but not where they are framed to suit the
exigencies of a particular case. When any class of exceptions,
however, proves on the whole productive of mischief, the rule by
which it is supported must be fallacious. If it be granted that the
universal adoption of pacific principles would conduce to the well-
being of mankind, we ask how it is possible that these principles
should become universal whilst any individual is permitted to claim
an exemption in his own favour? When every single nation is
determined on the preservation of peace, there will be an end to
contest. And though we are not so sanguine as to expect that in
the present state of public feeling and opinion any nation unjustly
attacked will abstain from using arms in her own defence; never-
theless we remain convinced that the best method of furthering the
entire abolition of War is, by placing it in its true light, to promote
the spread of those principles which, if generally adopted, would
arrest alike the hand of the invader, and the angry resistance of the
injured party, and which would, at all events, induce the rulers of
each country to exert their most strenuous endeavours in avoiding
every ground of offence and contention. Or if War must be con-
sidered a necessary evil, let it be regarded strictly as an evil—let
the warrior no longer be looked upon with feelings of admiration,
and we may venture to predict that his profession will not be of long
Commissioners. could not agree, finally to refer their differences to the decision
of some friendly power, to be mutually agreed upon by the two governments.
In the instance above referred to, the Commissioners disagreed, and the dif-
ference was referred to the Emperor of Russia, each party “engaging to con-
sider his decision final and conclusive.” It is therefore suggested whether the
same mode might not be adopted in settling any future differences between
nations, even in preferenee to forming a congress for that purpose proposed in
the text. The principle is the same, but the mode is less complex, and less
liable to objection; it has also the advantage of having been tried, and proved
successful.
27
continuance. If the judgment be impressed with the guilt and folly
of strife, it is well;—but it is not sufficient. There are illusions
which play round the heart, whose active energy bids defiance
to the sober calculations of reason. The understanding and the
passions exert a reciprocal influence ; and in order to insure the
practical conviction of the former, it is essentially requisite to
dissipate the false glare of the latter. Most of those erroneous
prepossessions which have tinged the sentiments of men with the
colours of military enthusiasm, originate either in partial views of
mankind,-in a superficial attention to particular evils, in the in-
fluence of prevailing custom, or in the exclusive contemplation of
that grandeur of design and sublimity of character, which are some-
times the accompaniments of warlike exploits, but with which they
are so falsely and so fatally considered as inseparably connected.
The quarrels of nations resemble, on a larger scale, the quarrels
of individuals. As a proud and selfish man, jealous of fancied
dignity, places his own interests in continual opposition to the in-
terests of another, and imagines they are best promoted by an
infringement of his neighbour's rights; so each nation, instead of
regarding herself as only one of the members of a great family,
“bound to co-operate for each other's benefit, and interested in
each other's well-being,” too often conceives that to injure and
depress the trade of foreign countries, is to exalt the prosperity of her
own. Reason and philanthropy do indeed teach us, “that one
nation thrives not upon the ruins of another,”t and that the welfare
of a part is ever conducive to the welfare of the whole; but preju-
dices imbibed in the cradle obtain a hold over the fancy, that is hardly
ever shaken off in after-life ; and as long as the infant tongue shall
be taught to lisp in accents of congratulation the happy news that
our armies have been victorious—that we have beaten our enemies,
and have killed several thousands of them—as long as the infant
mind shall be directed to dwell exclusively on the glories of its own
country; so long will degrading notions of national honour, -petty,
narrow misrepresentations of national policy, continue to oppose the
progress of all that is truly excellent, truly noble, and truly patriotic
in principle and in action.
A second kind of error consists in the little attention bestowed
* Sixth Report of the Peace Society. # Ibid.
28
upon details. We suffer the imagination to be seduced by floating
ideas of magnificence and grandeur; and, dazzled by the brilliant
results of a campaign, we neglect to examine closely the real
features of War, or we should shrink with horror from their odious
deformity. Does he, who celebrates with triumphant applause the
defeat of a rival nation, recollect, that at that very moment hundreds
are lying on the field of battle in the last agonies of death; that
hundreds more, crowded in miserable hospitals, are groaning on the
beds from which they will never arise, but with limbs mutilated,
bodies enfeebled, and health destroyed, to drag out the remains of a
tedious existence—a burthen to themselves, and a cause of never-
ceasing grief to their friends? Does he picture to himself the fond
wife, who, after listening for many hours in breathless anxiety to the
distant roar of that awful thunder, whose every peal is dismissing
multitudes to eternity—at the conclusion of the battle rushes eagerly
forward, only to meet the tidings that her husband—her friend—the
protector of her beloved children, whom she had that very morning
clasped to her bosom, warm with life and hope—lies now a bloody
corpse among heaps of slain 2 Does he think of desolated corn
fields, ruined villages, towns in flames, the wretched inhabitants
compelled at midnight to seek in the open fields a refuge from the
brutality of an infuriated soldiery—and, above all, does he seriously
reflect that these calamities are not the work of an over-heated
imagination—not the fanciful delineations of fictitious woe; but that
they are, at this present time,” actually endured, by beings of his own
species—beings with wants as numerous—feelings as acute as his
own 2 - -
The prevalent ascendancy of custom is a third cause by which the
judgment is biassed. Men cannot easily bring themselves to believe
that the force of intellect, the deliberations of councils, and the ener-
gies of nations, are wasted in support of a delusion. But is the
amount of means employed any standard by which to estimate the
utility of the end ? Have not whole communities expended their
strength, and philosophers their labours, in pursuit of objects now
universally acknowledged to be unimportant or permicious ! And if
the extent of any practice be admitted as an argument in favour of
its propriety, what abuse is there which may not be justified ?
* 1823.
29
But the most fertile source of all the warlike madness by which
the world has ever been afflicted, is the idea of GLORY, so unfor-
tunately attached to the spirit of military enterprise. This association
has been the more dangerously influential, because it frequently
derives its strength from an union with feelings that are in themselves
right and valuable. The sentiment which teaches us to despise a
mean and cowardly temper is natural and correct. Now meanness
and cowardice have indeed given birth to a quiet acquiescence under
injuries, though not to that magnanimous forbearance, that moral
resistance, which are only produced by truly Christian motives. As,
however, the immediate effects of each are similar, men forget to
distinguish between two principles, the most opposite in their origin
and tendency, and involve both in the same indiscriminating censure.
Again, self-devotion and courage are properly objects of respect.
The admirer of military honour, seeing these qualities exemplified
in his hero, admits them to their due rank in his esteem; but he ad-
mits with them sentiments and actions that, deprived of their adven-
titious companions, could only have excited unmingled disgust. Two
distinct ideas—the idea of grandeur of soul, and the idea of destructive
violence, become thenceforth united. Shall it then be said, that they
are necessarily and inseparably united? The time has been when a deed
of abstract revenge was hailed with similar enthusiasm, and from a
similar cause ; the idea of revenge had been associated with the
ideas of power and courage. The custom of feudal warfare was once
deemed so honourable, or so necessary, as to merit the sanction of
legislative authority. To expose to the hootings of popular deri-
sion the unhappy captives of her arms, was the crowning triumph of
polished Rome. All these feelings have passed away; we look
back upon them with curiosity and surprise: we almost wonder
they could ever have existed. And may not the time arrive when
national warfare shall be regarded among the relics of departed
barbarism; when men shall have learnt that the spirit of freedom
and heroic disinterestedness is worthy of more dignified associates
than rapine, injustice, and bloodshed?
Even at present, notwithstanding the habitual perversion of our
sentiments, the mind experiences a more exalted emotion of pleasure
in contemplating the enduring fortitude of the martyr, than the
active bravery of the warrior ; and an accidental trait of humanity
30
in the chronicles of war shines like a bright spot amid surrounding
darkness.”
When too, at seasons of intellectual expansion, we look upon this
earth as upon a mere speck in creation; the mighty shadow of
human glory vanishes into air. We laugh at the insignificant quar-
rels and imaginary importance of its inhabitants; who, like ants
swarming from their petty citadels, are disputing each their inch of
ground. We then feel that the real dignity of man can only con-
sist in that elevation of soul, that superiority of mind over matter, by
which he approaches the rank of angels. The courage of the bravest
soldier is in fact so greatly dependent on mere animal excitement,
and is so often found totally unconnected with all the nobler qualities
of heart and head, that it deserves rather to be classed with the
instinctive ferocity of the tiger, than with those lofty principles which
animate and sustain the true hero. -
Let us imagine a man, whose character, formed under the influence
of these principles, is unalloyed by any mixture of warlike delusion.
We see him consecrating all the faculties of his soul, not to the
destruction; but to the improvement of his species. His ardent and
comprehensive benevolence recognises no narrow limits of sect or
country. Regardless of personal interest, he pursues his philan-
thropic course, and rejoices to feel himself the friend of man, and
a follower of God. While he weeps over the blindness of his
brethren, he dedicates his life to their illumination. He does not
indeed seek to redress their grievances by rushing into the field of
battle; yet his are no idle wishes—no inactive speculations. He
can oppose unyielding fortitude to unrelenting tyranny; and he can
raise the voice of honest indignation against the wanton abuses of
power, until the energies of multitudes are aroused for their suppres-
sion. He loves glory, indeed; but it is the glory appropriated to the
* The following story, from the History of Switzerland, in the 14th century
will serve to illustrate this remark. “During the various disputes which
accompanied each successive election of an emperor, Soleure having embraced
the cause of Louis of Bavaria, was besieged by Duke Leopold; and a great
inundation of the Aar having carried away his works, machines, and bridges, a
great number of his men were in imminent danger of perishing. At this moment
the Soleurians, forgetful of all hostile considerations, put off in boats and rescued
them. The Duke was touched, and, unwilling to be outdone in magnanimity,
requested to be introduced into the town, with only thirty followers, presented
a banner, and made peace.” Is there any one who does not feel the beauty of
this anecdote, and who does not feel it the more forcibly from the strong
impression of contrast 7
3]
benefactor of his race. His eye is lighted up with enthusiasm, it
is the enthusiasm of benevolence. His spirit remains unmoved alike
amid the shafts of calumny, or the more open assaults of undisguised
enmity. Despised, persecuted, abandoned, he can still, in the testi-
mony of a good conscience, lift up his eyes to an unfailing Protector,
still breathe a prayer for the triumph of that great cause to which his
heart is devoted,—the downfal of error, and the universal diffusion
of light, love, and happiness among men. *
Who, that has dwelt upon a character like this, can turn to the
contemplation of the most splendid deeds ever enrolled in the annals
of military fame, and not feel the immeasurable distance between
the courage of a Christian and that of a Warrior, not confess that
there is a spirit of forbearance which, far from being the ally of
pusillanimous weakness, is fitted to excite the sublimest emotions of
admiration and respect? -
Since, then, it has been proved that the practice of war is directly
opposed to the tenour of Christianity,+that its chance of effecting
ultimate good is, in the most favourable case, extremely small, while
it is in its very nature productive of incalculable mischief, leaving to
the vanquished unmitigated misery, and to the victor a large pre-
ponderance of evil, balanced only by the disgraceful joy of selfish
exultation,--that it is almost always inadequate to the end proposed,
—that the cause of justice might be far better maintained by other
means, and that the spirit which supports it is founded in delusion,--
let every friend to humanity labour for its abolition. And let not
the advocates of peace despair, when they contemplate the apparent
magnitude of their task. They must not indeed expect, that a custom
so deeply rooted in the prejudices and passions of mankind, will be
speedily eradicated; but they may at least foretell that national wars
will not much longer be waged at the caprice of a few; for the tide
of public opinion has already advanced with such rapidity as will
authorize them to look forward with confidence to its final triumph.
And when they reflect on the important changes that opinion has
undergone, almost within their own memory;-the trade in human
flesh (enjoying scarcely less prescriptive sanction than the practice of
war) no longer vindicated as innocent;—prisons not as formerly the
abodes of unpitied wretchedness, where the criminal was doomed by
aggravated and disproportioned sufferings to expiate his crime, and
increase his guilt;—more especially, when they consider how power-
32
fully that intercourse, which now subsists among benevolent indi-
viduals of various countries, whom national differences had too long
kept asunder, and who have lately begun to combine in the promotion
of philanthropic purposes, must tend to restore alienated affection,
and to cement those bonds that unite man to man,—they will be
encouraged to persevere in their endeavours to infuse into the current
as it flows, a portion of that pacific spirit which alone can render its
stream permanently fertilizing. In this labour of love, none are too
insignificant to co-operate. It is by an union of individual exertions
that every great object is accomplished. If mothers, instead of
teaching their infant charge to gaze with delight on the trappings of
military preparations, or to listen with childish eagerness to the notes
of military music, would early instil into their minds those feelings
of universal sympathy, and that deep sense of the horrors of war,
which reason and religion alike inculcate;—if the young and fair
would bestow on the exertions of benevolence those smiles too often
the reward of sanguinary valour;—if they, whom heaven has gifted
with poetic talent, would dedicate to heaven's own cause an art so
fatally misemployed in the celebration of warlike achievements, we
might then hope that the rapid diffusion of Christian knowledge and
Christian piety, would hasten the arrival of that glorious period,
when throughout the world, “the work of righteousness shall be
PEACE, and the effect of righteousness quietness and assurance
for ever.”
* Isaiah.
F 1 N I See
R. Clay, Printer, 7, Bread Street Hill, Cheapside.
Tract No. IX. Part I. of the Society for the Pro-
motion of Permanent and Universal Peace.
THE
PRINCIPLES OF PEACE
E X E M P L IFI E D
THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS IN IRELAND,
During the Rebellion of the Year 1798
WITH
SOME PRELIMINARY AND CONCLUDING OBSERVATIONS.
-“Cº-
BY
THOMAS HANCOCK, M. D.
—“Q-
I N T H R E E P A R T S.
PART I.
STEREOTYPE EDITION.
30,0ttiſott :
Printed by R. Clay, Bread-Street-Hill;
AND SOLD BY
HAMILTON, ADAMS, & CO. 33, PATERNOSTER ROW;
AND ALL OTHER BOOKSELLERS;
AND AT THE DEPOSITORY, STAR courT, BREAD streET, CHEAPSIDE.
1833.
Price Sixpence.
The object of THE SOCIETY for the PROMOTION of
PERMANENT and UNIVERSAL PEACE, is to print and
circulate Tracts, and to diffuse information tending to shen that
War is inconsistent mith the spirit of Christianity, and the true
interests of mankind: and to point out the means best calculated
to maintain Permanent and Universal Peace, upon the basis of
Christian Principles. Its labours are not limited by Local
Attachments, nor circumscribed by Geographical Boundaries, but
eactend to the nyhole human race.
Rob ERT MARSDEN, Esq. Chairman.
SAMUEL GURNEY, Esq. Treasurer.
REv. JAMEs HARGREAves, Honorary Home Secretary.
REv. THoMAs Wood, Honorary Foreign Secretary.
John BEvans, Assistant Secretary and Collector.
*...* It is requested that all Communications may be forwarded to the
respective Officers of the PEACE SocIETY, directed to the DEPository,
Star Court, Bread Street, Cheapside, where Subscriptions are received;
and also at the Banking House of Messrs. Williams, Deacon, Labouchere,
Thornton, and Co. 20, Birchin Lane, Cornhill.
~
f
ADVERTISEMENT.
THE Fifth Tract of the Peace Society contained facts chiefly selected
from Labaume's Narrative of the Campaign in Russia, in 1812, ex-
hibiting the scenes of misery and desolation which the warlike spirit
produces on the earth. The present Publication, which the Committee
of the Peace Society has, with the permission of the worthy Author,
adopted as a Tract of that Society, exhibits facts of an opposite
character, facts which shew not only how the pacific principles of
the Gospel throw a protection around those who imbibe and act con-
sistently with them,--but they also shew how their influence calms
the turbulent passions, and lessens the horrors of war.
If it be objected that the facts here recorded relate almost exclu-
sively to one denomination of Christians, the Quakers, or Society of
Friends, whose principles on war are well known, but that if others
not of that persuasion had acted on the same principles, they would
have been exposed to all the fatal effects of party violence ; we
answer, that this is opposing hypothesis to fact, the same principles
of conduct being calculated to produce the same effects; when they
have not so done, it must be attributed to a misunderstanding or
doubt of the principles on which the persons acted; and even in such
cases of extremity, God is able to deliver those who trust in him, an
instance of which the reader will find in the preservation of the
Moravians at Gracehill, mentioned in Part II. of this Tract.
IV ADWERTISEMENT.
The objector cannot regret more than we do, that the facts should
almost exclusively relate to the Society of Friends; it would have
afforded us equal, if not greater pleasure, to have been able to pro-
duce similar facts of the members of the Established Church, or of
any other denomination of Christians: the time, we doubt not, will
arrive, and may it soon arrive, when they shall share with the Friends
the honour of supporting the pacific principles of the Gospel: till then
we can only record such facts as present themselves to our notice,
and may they stimulate the reader to obey the Christian language of
exhortation which they practically address to him, “Go, and do thou
likewise.”
March, 1828.
PR. E. F. A. C. E.
THE documents from which this brief narrative is compiled, have,
most of them, been some years in the author's possession. They
have been obtained from those who were concerned, either as actors
or eye-witnesses, in the scenes which are depicted. They contain
the names of such individuals as are alluded to in the narrative ; but
the author is placed under the necessity of generally withholding
them.*
Though some, amongst the individuals noticed, are now in the
silent grave, yet the nature of the scenes in which they were engaged,
requires that regard should be paid to their surviving friends and
immediate descendants. Associated, as were those scenes with the
heart-burnings of civil war, it is possible that, even at this distance
of time, the narrative might recall some feelings, in societies and
neighbourhoods, which, for the sake of harmony and good fellowship,
ought to be consigned to oblivion.
If this reason be entitled to consideration, in so far as it relates to
the descendants of those whose acts are recorded, the surviving
individuals, to whom allusion is made, have much stronger motives
to urge the concealment they have requested.
Under disadvantages which thus attach to the publication, the
author cannot do less than assure his reader of his undoubted belief
in the truth of the incidents that are recorded ; being personally
acquainted not only with some of the individuals, but of the writers
concerned, and knowing that they are entitled to the fullest credit.
But the documents being simply designed to shew in what manner
* The narrative respecting Ballitore, affords an exception.
vi PREFACE.
a number of persons, who followed the principles of peace, regu-
lated their conduct in a time of civil warfare, and, through divine
mercy, experienced preservation; and not having been collected to
set forth the praise, either of any individual or of any society, the
names of the actors are of minor importance.
As the heads of the Chapters will shew that some little arrange-
ment is attempted, it will readily occur to the reader that the order
of time could not be very strictly observed ; and he will therefore
find that a few events are narrated, for the purpose of classification,
after others, which, in fact, they preceded.
As the time will undoubtedly come — and no one can say how
soon it may arrive—when the Christian principles of peace will be
more generally received and acted upon in the world than they are
at present; every contribution, however small, pointing out the way
in which the followers of peace have endeavoured to obey their
Lord and Master's literal injunctions on this fundamental point, and
commemorating the blessed effects of their obedience, may have
some little weight in the balance, to determine the minds of hesi-
tating Christians on the side of peace.
And thus, although the store may happen to be slowly collected,
and the light to be very gradually diffused, an accumulation of
facts and testimonies from different parts of the world, and a con-
centration of light from the increasing convictions of truth in diffe-
rent minds, employed in examining this important question, may at
last be expected to work such a change of public sentiment in favour
of peace, as shall establish the principle incontrovertibly, that Chris-
tianity is altogether a religion of peace—a system of love and good-
will to men, whether viewed in the mode of its introduction or of .
its propagation, or in its principles, or in relation to the prophecies
respecting it.
It was announced with the angelic song of PEACE. It was founded
by the Prince of Peace. It depended so entirely on its own peace-
able armour—the meekness and lamb-like disposition of its am-
bassadors—to overcome its enemies, that it was propagated in direct
PREFACE. vii
defiance of the sword. It had so little dependence on the sword
to aid its progress, that it has never made a single conquest over
the minds of men, when its professed followers have used the sword
in its sacred name. It inculcates those dispositions in heart and
mind which can have no possible affinity with the pride of martial
glory, nor concord with the turbulence of military achievements.
Peace was the legacy bequeathed to his disciples by the great Head
of the Church. Upon the peace-makers he pronounced his blessing.
Peace was predicted to be the sign and supreme excellency of the
Messiah's kingdom in the latter days on the earth ; and the believer
in Scripture must be assured that a time will come when there will
be PERMANENT AND UNIVERSAL PEACE. All these things demon-
strate that a pure Christianity is identified with a state of peace :
and, surely, we have evidence enough from past history to convince
the most doubting in the present day, of the great preponderance,
in the scale of national glory, of peace over war; and to prove its
loveliness, its security, and its transcendent excellency.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
To PART I.
CHAP. I.
PAGE
PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONs on THE PRACTICAL INFLUENCE of PEACE-
ABLE DISPositions
Plea of Self-defence ............ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
Plea of Justice. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18
Plea of Necessity . . . . . . . . tº º º e º º e e s s & e g º e s e º e º e o 'º e o e o e o e º e º O © e 21
CHAP. II.
STATE of THE SocIETY of FRIENDS PREvious To, AND DURING THE
REBELLION © e º e º & © tº º tº e º 'º e º e º 'º º e º e º e º 9 e tº tº G & º gº tº º e º e º 'º e º 'º 31
Neutrality difficult in the time of Rebellion ...................... 32
The Society of Friends critically circumstanced ......... . . . . . . . . . 88
Precaution taken in destroying their arms.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84
An example in the conduct of a Friend.......................... ib.
This precaution considered to be salutary ......... & sº tº e º tº s e e º e º 'º º is 35
Anecdote and consistency of a Friend . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 36
He intercedes for a poor Family with the Commander.............. 37
He refuses to sell Ropes to the Military for the purpose of hanging the
disaffected . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38
Insurrection begun . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39
The Insurgents enter Ferns and treat him kindly.................. 40
He opens his house to the distressed . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41
Ingratitude of a Farmer towards another Friend.................. ib.
Fortitude of both these Friends when they were threatened with death.
for harbouring the distressed Fugitives ....... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 42, 43
The former in imminent danger . . . . . . • e s e e o e s e e s tº e º e º e º O e º e s = e e ib.
He certifies on behalf of his neighbours. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44
Soldiers’ confidence in a Friend . . . . . . e e s e o e s e e o 'º e s e e o e s e e s • e º o ib.
THE
PRINCIPLES OF PEACE,
&c. &c.
—sº-
CHAP. I.
Preliminary Observations on the practical Influence of Peaceable
Dispositions.
THERE are two different lights in which we may habitually regard
our fellow-creatures; either with feelings of good-will and affection,
or of distrust and suspicion, as we are disposed to take a favourable
view of human nature, or the contrary. According as we are
influenced by one or other of these dispositions, we shall be led to
attract our fellow-man towards us, or to repel him from us; to look
upon an erring brother with a degree of pity, and in a forgiving
spirit, (even when he harbours the most unjust feelings respecting us,)
or to place ourselves in a hostile attitude against him, even for the
slightest supposed offence. It is obvious that as, by our own con-
duct, we excite the good or evil propensities of others, so we must
expect to make ourselves liable to their effects. For if we display
those dispositions which lead to wrath and envy, we must look, in
the course of things, for the manifestation of similar feelings, at
least from the rude and undisciplined, who are not better informed.
It is in the nature of love, as it is of cruelty, to propagate its kind;
and, by our example, as well as by the immediate effect of our con-
duct, we make others peaceable or vindictive: these are natural
consequences. -
According, therefore, as we cultivate in ourselves the benevolent
or malevolent affections towards others, and excite corresponding
feelings in them, we may be assured, that such will be the
state of society in our immediate vicinity;-and, if we reason
from the less to the greater—from our own circle to the widest
IX.-PART. I B
10
sphere of our influence — such will be our friendly or unfriendly
relation to mankind universally, and consequently our influence in
promoting the happiness or misery of the world.
Now, though it must be acknowledged, that the principles above
stated are enforced in the clearest and strongest manner in the pre-
cepts of Christianity, and, moreover, that it is necessary the mind
should be deeply imbued with the peculiar spirit of Christian love,
before it can bring forth, in perfection, the fruits of peace and good-
will; yet, before the Gospel was ushered into the world, the human
mind had a glimpse of the excellence and utility of these principles.
For heathen philosophy has told us what ought to be the rule of
human conduct, and the practice of a wise and virtuous man, when
under opprobrium and wrong. It has told us that, by mildness,
anger may be appeased, even as “a soft answer turns away wrath;”
and that, by forbearance, animosity may be extinguished. Pytha-
goras, Epictetus, Plutarch, Seneca, and others, teach us many such
lessons.
But it was reserved for a light, clearer than that of either Greece
or Rome, to point out a surer road to peace than any of their wisest
sages seem to have been capable of imagining. That light was the
Gospel; that path was meekness, forgiveness of injuries, and for-
bearance : these duties were inculcated in the precept—To love our
enemies; and to do good unto all men.
The heathen, indeed, saw something of the excellence of this
principle; but did not so far anticipate Christianity as to trust their
lives and fortunes to its government. Their gods were implored
in danger; but idolatry vitiated their sacrifices. They knew nothing
of what it was “to stand still and see the salvation of God.”
The Jews advanced a step further : when the cause was not their
own, and their motive was not ambition ; or when danger was at
hand, and they meekly petitioned for divine aid; their enemies were
scattered “like chaff before the wind,” and they found that “one
could chase a thousand, and two put ten thousand to flight.” But
the Jews were not practically instructed, and perhaps the spirit of
the times did not permit them to be so, in the heart-softening lesson
of Christian charity, by meekness to disarm revenge. They do not
appear to have considered that one act of retaliation only prepared
the way for another.
| 1
The example of Christ and his apostles, and the history of Chris-
tianity itself, afford a practical proof of the pacific efficacy of the
Gospel, and of the universal love it breathes to the human family.
Thus a gradual illumination may be said to have beamed upon the
world —the light of nature and of reason;–the outward and typical
institutions of Moses;–the inward and spiritual dispensation of
Jesus Christ.
The law that resulted from the first was vague and uncertain :
Socrates and Cicero had no claims to the legislative or prophetic
character.
The Mosaic code was of a decided though rigid cast, partial
however, and adapted to the stubborn necks of a rebellious people.
The Gospel was of universal love, and as universal application;
intelligible to all, and unlimited in its range.
The first shone upon the human intellect, as through a mist ; and
the learned only could perceive the signs of divine wisdom in the
Law of Nature. The second struck upon the outward senses of a
peculiar people ; with signs, indeed, of awe and terror, and with
miraculous display of power; in its types and ordinances shadow-
ing out the substantial, and spiritual dispensation, which should
succeed.
The last was emitted from the Sun of Righteousness himself,
directly to the heart, with transcendently glorious manifestations of
divine love to the human family. This last dispensation has in
itself, therefore, the means of accomplishing that for which it was
designed—Peace on earth ; and, do we still wait for something
more perfect than we have yet received “Art thou He that
should come, or look we for another P’’
Now, whatever virtue it is incumbent upon a good man to
be always practising, that ought to be the governing principle of
every human society, from the contracted circles of families and
neighbourhoods, to the enlarged sphere of countries and king-
doms. For, all mankind is of one blood : and there is not one
code for individuals and another code for associations, either of
few or many. In respect to moral laws, there is not one code for
the prince, and another for the people. All men are equally bound
by the duties of religion. Christian virtue can no more be bent
from its firm and upright attitude, to suit the petty views of the
B 2
12
cunning and malicious, or even the specious views of political expe-
diency, than the main pillar of a temple can be bent from its per-
pendicular, without endangering the ruin of the whole edifice. If
the proposition be true, that Peace is a blessing, and War is a curse,
the motives and the causes of the one must be of a character
directly opposite to the motives and causes of the other; and, in
so far as human agency is concerned in promoting either, the bless-
ing will belong to the peacemaker or the curse to the violent. The
elements of Peace are in their nature and operation supremely vir-
tuous; the elements of war highly vicious. There is nothing of
seeming contempt which can rob the first of its excellence, nor of
gorgeous display which can hide the deformity of the last, and confer
upon it real glory. By what perverted modes of thinking, then, is
it, that a practice, which has even acquired the name of an art,
and has proved an engine of destruction to so many millions of the
human race, should continue to be trimmed with honours, and
idolized with praises We might reasonably wonder at the cir-
cumstance, if we did not on all sides perceive, that man, paradoxi-
cally enough, follows the evil which he abhors, and pursues his
present, with infinitely more ardour than he does his future, good.
That, in the case of War, he should be encouraged, by some wise
and good men, to reconcile to reason and justice the indulgence of
his malevolent feelings, is cause of still greater wonder, and certainly
of deep lamentation.
For, notwithstanding the force of these principles, in which, it
is expected, most will be agreed, at least in theory, when we come
to consider the actual state of man, and the prevalence of evil in the
world, we shall find that many specious arguments have been ad-
duced against the practical adoption of the principles of Peace. It
has been objected, that nations could not exist without War, – that
the wicked would overwhelm the good, and, although it may be a
deplorable, that it is still a necessary evil. Hence, even among the
professors of Christianity, self-preservation, which is called the first
law of nature, justice, and even necessity, have been urged, sepa-
rately and unitedly, as affording unanswerable reasons for maintain-
ing the attitude, and proceeding to the extremity, of War.
In our reasonings on this subject, it will be assumed, that the
contention between individuals, like that between states, arises from
13
the same principles; and that the same arguments will apply to both
CalSeSe
The plea of Self-defence, of Justice, and of Necessity will be
considered in order.
PLEA OF SELF-DEFENCE.
Self-defence, it must be allowed, offers a plausible argument in
favour of active resistance with the sword. It is, however, an
argument which would apply to animals devoid of reason, better
than to man, who is supereminently styled Rational. It is even
opposed by the analogy of nature; for, in strict unison with the
moral state of man, while, in some of its phenomena, nature exhibits
what are called physical evils, in other words, disorder and im-
perfection,-yet, in others, she displays the signs of most perfect
physical beauty and harmony, and of a workmanship eminently
divine. If there be any thing in such an analogy, it is against the
argument, taking the different circumstances of man and the brute
into consideration: for brutes do not war against their own kinds,
as was observed formerly by Juvenal. And again, those animals
which are designed to make prey of others for their support, are
formed with offensive weapons: while, on the other hand, their
prey are provided with natural means of escape or resistance.
But the human family is not divided in this way, into some naturally
armed and ferocious, and into others naturally unarmed and gentle.
We observe indeed that mankind is distinguished into those en-
dowed with physical, and those with moral power. But these
distinctions are more or less the effect of education and outward
circumstances. In all ages, however, the moral or intellectual
endowments of man, have had superiority over the physical, when
the energies of the former have been brought into full play; and,
in the unerring scale of justice, it has been provided, that the moral
influence and virtues of the good, should be a sufficient counter-
balance to the physical influence and vices of the bad.
We must conclude, therefore, that if the wise and good are re-
duced to the necessity of taking a part in any dispute, they are not
to take the part which will increase it, but that which will allay it :
{4
as, in this way only, can harmony be at last attained. We conclude,
that, if contests must needs arise, the only justifiable warfare in
which the wise and good can engage, is that of moral influence
against brute violence ; in short, that good dispositions are to be
opposed to evil—benevolent affections to malevolent—the principles
of Peace to the principles of War.
The argument for self-defence, by means of deadly weapons,
assumes, in its very principles, that man should always be armed
against his fellow-man, and that brute force is superior to reason :
consequently, that a rational being is not to be convinced and
persuaded and reconciled ; but that, when offering violence, he is
with summary vengeance to be overthrown by violence and put to
death, like one of the inferior animals. Now, it is a state of things
highly unbecoming to the dignity of rational creatures, – we say
the dignity when we speak of those, who are upon the Lord’s earth
setting an example to others both of the excellency of virtue, and of
the superiority of moral to physical acquirements—it is highly
derogatory to the character of moral and intellectual beings, that
they should go about armed with destructive weapons, in dread of
each other. Even a Roman Poet says:
“Integer vitae, scelerisque purus
Non eget Mauri jaculis, neque arcu.”
The man of blameless life, and pure in heart,
Needs not the bow, nor venom'd Moorish dart.
It may, indeed, be said, that the first aggressor forfeits the
claim and character of man, and, therefore, that he ought to be
treated like the brute. But that would be to say, that he, who is
urged to an act of violence in his defence, would also be justified
in laying aside the attributes of reason, and assuming those of the
brute, because his fellow-creature so far deviated from the line of
rationality as to set him the example ; it would be a plea for the
degradation of reason, not for its ascendency. Man is superior to
the brute, not by his physical but by his moral energies; and it
would be a low distinction if one man did not excel another by the
same moral energies. Therefore, if physical energies are put forth
on one side, moral energies are to be employed on the other. It is
not that the great and wise and good should come down to the level
of the mean and ignorant and depraved, so as to contend for
15
superiority with the weapons chosen by the latter ; but it is to be
considered a contest of virtue, honour, justice, integrity, benevolence,
and order, with vice, infamy, wrong, deceit, violence, and confusion.
Who can doubt, where such elements are fairly in opposition, to
which side Providence will ultimately give the victory fº
But when a human being, profligate and depraved, knows that
society is all up in arms, and that cruel and vindictive laws are in
operation against him, he will brave the worst, with the nerve and
desperation of one, who has never tasted the milk of human kindness
from any of his fellow-creatures, nor seen a tear of pity and com-
passion flowing for his sake. And so it is, when the worse part
of society are persuaded, that if they encounter the better part,
they will be resisted with violence, and if possible put to death ;
they will naturally prepare themselves with weapons of destruction,
and brace their nerves to cruelty; because they feel a conviction,
that those who would take their lives if they could, are brought
more to a level, in spirit and intention, with themselves. If they
were persuaded, on the contrary, that the better part would not
resist them to the last extremity, it is most probable that, whatever
might be their object, they would rarely attack any one with
bloody designs. When it can be shewn that men, taken collectively
or individually, can neither be brought to listen to reason, nor to
humanity, nor to religion ; and that reason, humanity, and religion,
have exhausted their power against violence, without effect, — when
it can be shewn that they pay no respect to the innocent, peaceable,
virtuous and benevolent ; then, indeed, the plea of self-defence, if
for no other end, yet for the sake of maintaining social and moral
order, might be admitted to have some weight.
We are however disposed to think — though it is a question some-
what abstruse and difficult to meddle with — that the proposition
is founded in truth, that it is not wholly by physical influence,
such as an armed police or a military force, that civil order is
maintained, even in heathen communities. If this should prove
* In hujusmodi certamine ac praelio, nonne, etiam si hominum deficient,
Dii ipsi immortales cogent ab his praeclarissimis virtutibus, tot et tanta vitia
superari ? Cicero.—In such a conflict between good and evil, even if human
efforts should be manting, would not the immortal gods themselves interfere
to prevent these eminent virtues being overcouie by such an array of anta-
gonist vices !
16
to be the case, is it credible that in Christian societies, right should
depend upon might to secure its ascendency It is the common
opinion, we know, that it is physical influence alone which enforces
subordination, and supports the rights of justice; and it would
be difficult, perhaps impossible, to convince the majority that
this is not the case. For so long as the views, and hopes, and
reasonings of men are outward, they will not rely upon providential
assistance or moral influence, even in the conscientious discharge
of their duty, nor will they admit it into their calculations.
When, indeed, the frame of civil society has been for a long time
leaning upon outward weapons for its support, its integrity appears
to be identified with them ; so that to take them away would seem
to unhinge the whole structure, and to expose it to certain ruin. If
a question, therefore, as to its preservation in this state, should
arise, probably no prudent man would recommend an immediate
change to an opposite state. For, unless the whole movements of
the social system, should at the same time be regulated by a truly
Christian spirit, half measures would be injurious : (as any adulte-
ration of that which is pure, with that which is not so, both in
principle and practice, is sure to rob the first of its essential cha-
racters ;) and would produce worse consequences than seem to
await schemes entirely constructed on principles of outward expe-
diency, which have no relation at all to a future state of retribution.
But, notwithstanding this admission— (and it is by no means to be
understood as any concession in favour of violence) — whatever aid
physical power may contribute to the maintenance of civil order, in
societies whose institutions are not all established on a basis of
true wisdom, after the Christian model, there is reason to think
that it is the ascendency of moral influence, after all, which mainly
supports the fabric, and that the great bulwarks of civil order rest
on a firmer foundation than any outward visible means of defence.
If physical influence constituted the only means of maintaining
civil order, evil-doers would plainly have the advantage, as to their
physical strength; because the disposition to violence is more
universal in the world than the disposition to peace and forbearance.
Upon the principle therefore that the greatest amount of physical force
ought to maintain an ascendency in human affairs, violence and out-
rage should prevail, so as to subvert all laws, both divine and human.
17
But there is no human society, which subsists in such a state
of anarchy. Therefore, there are other principles than those of
violence and outrage, which operate in the human mind to prevent it.
For, what else should restrain the multitude of evil-doers, from
rising against the good, and supporting the law of vice and the
dominion of violence 2 It is certain that physical power would
be in their hands to effect these objects, if some moral checks did
not prevent them.
Surely, these checks are, the natural feelings of the heart coéval
with the first impressions of right and wrong, the reverence of law
and justice, the natural sense of religion, and the consciousness that
all the better feelings of mankind, as well as their own secret
convictions, would be in array against them, if they should be
profligate enough to make the attempt.
It is not the fear of those punishments which are inflicted by the
law, as was observed by Cicero, that alone restrains the violent.
If this were the only feeling, violence would soon be triumphant
over law. -
Law maintains its ascendency, because it is founded in justice;
and justice is formidable to the wicked, because it is an institution
of the Deity, from the force and sensible obligation of which no
man can free his mind, except by a series of gradations in vice, and
by reiterated acts of disobedience.
The Almighty, therefore, has himself appointed the checks,
which, we may presume, will for ever prevent the universal dominion
of vice over virtue.
As to the argument for self-defence then, little, upon the Chris-
tian scheme, can be said in its support. For, even if we surrender
the principle of good-will, which ought to bind every disciple of a
benevolent Lord, the Christian Religion requires that all its
followers should have their daily supplies from the Captain of
their Salvation ; and that in all their wants they should derive
their sufficiency from Him alone,—in all their perils should seek
his aid, in all their afflictions, his spiritual consolation. It can
scarcely be necessary to say, that the strength of the true Christian
is the ability with which he may be endowed by his Divine Master,
either to think, to speak, or to act. He has no independent existence.
In Him he lives and moves and has his being. He has no might of
18
his own — certainly none that will ever avail him, to encounter the
powers of darkness, which are his only enemies, with effect.
PLEA OF JUSTICE.
Justice is either relative or absolute. According to the diversity
of human laws, every community may have its peculiar notions of
justice—and this is relative; there is, notwithstanding, a principle
of justice, which is fixed on an immutable foundation, and applies
to an unerring standard. Every act of aggression on life or pro-
perty implies injustice; and as injustice ought to be punished, it
must be lawful to prevent it, so far as man is clearly commissioned
with authority to do so from his Maker. The Greeks, while they
differed among themselves, had motions of justice differing in some
respects from those of the Romans. Both, like the Persians, In-
dians, and Chinese, formed their systems of jurisprudence from the
light of nature. Wrong, and outrage, therefore, have been restrained
and punished, according to the notions of natural justice in different
countries, unenlightened by divine laws. Now, the divine laws from
which justice has emanated, have been varied, for wise purposes, in
different ages and dispensations to man, as it has pleased the divine
Author to promulgate either a Law of Fear, or a Law of Love.—
And the institutions of Christianity, being founded on the latter law,
are more merciful than the institutions of Moses, who was commis-
sioned with the former. Therefore the law of love should be
fundumentally “part and parcel of the laws " and institutions of
every Christian government. If these laws of Christianity are not in
themselves adequate to the support and order of Christian states, then
Christ came into the world to propose a system of rules inapplicable
to human society. But the latter supposition cannot for a moment be
entertained, and therefore we must reject the former, and conclude,
that the merciful institutions of Christianity are in themselves abun-
dantly adequate to the support and order of Christian states. In all
that concerned inward purity of heart, and every avenue that might
lead to defilement, a stricter discipline was imposed upon the Chris-
tian than upon the Jew; but in all that concerned the use of outward
forms and ceremonies, the Christian was released from a heavy yoke
19
...ien was laid upon the Jew. So, then, the harsher code of the
Jew has been superseded by the milder code of the Christian.
Now, as for the most part, it was the law of retaliation which
measured judgment to the Hebrew transgressor, and justice to
him that was injured; so it is, for the most part, the law of mercy
which is appointed to administer justice between Christians. Beyond
this, every act of undue severity, either of individuals or of society,
against offenders, is a violation of the precepts of Christianity, and, so
far an act of injustice, and of rebellion against its merciful govern-
ment; whatever excuses may be made as of expediency and necessity,
on the score of civil order. When the professed upholders of Christian
law wilfully transgress its precepts, on the presumption that these
are too weak to bind the lawless, they themselves give to the world
a most pernicious example of practical unbelief. And their example
is not lost; for infidelity openly points at the inconsistency, and
rails at these benign institutions for their supposed inefficacy, which
the Christian senator has not the courage to act upon and to enforce,
though he is ready to boast of their supreme authority.
Christ, the Divine Lawgiver, was not merely satisfied to have the
conduct exempt from the guilt of any gross immorality; he required
the heart also to be free from stain. Hence he constrasted those
capital offences, that were already denounced in the Jewish code,
with the first buddings of unlawful desire, from which they sprung ;
and therefore struck at the root, by forbidding even the least ap-
pearance of evil in the heart itself to be encouraged. The Jewish
law commanded: Thou shalt not kill. — The Christian : Thou shalt
not even be angry with thy brother. The Jewish law says: Thou
shalt not commit adultery.—The Christian ; Thou shalt not be guilty
in this respect even so far as thought or desire. The Jewish law ad-
judges, “an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.”—The Christian
enjoins, that men shall not resist evil, either when wronged in person
or property; i.e. smitten on the cheek or despoiled of a garment.
The Jewish law commands: Thou shalt not forswear thyself-The
Christian : Swear not at all; but let your affirmation and negation
be yea and nay. And lastly, the Jewish law permitted men to hate
their enemies—those who were the enemies of God and Righteous-
ness.—But the Christian says, in the spirit of Peace : “Love your
enemies,”—adding, “for if ye love them that love you, what reward
20
have ye P” For, Christians should be in spirit bounteous and mer-
ciful to the whole human family, like the Father of all, “who sends
his rain on the just as well as on the unjust.”
Now, it is certain that, at the same time, and in the same precepts,
in which Christ laid down for his followers a stricter path to walk in
than Moses had appointed for the Jews, he relaxed the severity of
penal ordinances: for, while he omitted nothing which might lead
the obedient disciples onward to perfection, he was silent upon every
thing that might seem to warrant the exercise of severity against
sinners; because his office was not to punish sin in the repentant
sinner, but to take it wholly away ; and even when the woman
convicted of a capital offence was brought before him for judg-
ment, he gave a memorable lesson to modern legislators; Let
him that is without sin cast the first stone. If, therefore, we may
take our notions of justice from the spirit of Christ's precepts, it
has nothing vindictive in its character : vengeance belongs only to
“ the Judge of quick and dead.”
Hence, if Christian justice be the rule and guide of human
councils—and it ought to be so, for every follower of Christ should
obey his precepts and cultivate the same spirit—it can give no
sanction to war and contention, or to any sort of penal retribution
from man, except that which leads to the correction of vice and to
repentance. Christian justice, being in itself complete, and the very
perfection of moral administration in the world, is in all respects
identified with, and cannot be separated from, Divine justice. There
is no human being, nor any assemblage of human beings, professing
Christianity, who, by law or ordinance, can justly authorise an act
which is not founded on the principles of Christian justice. These
principles, being merciful, must be obeyed, if men would look for
mercy from their Maker, however hard the necessity of the case
may seem to those who are injured.
Now, unless the rulers of Christian states can prove themselves
to be duly commissioned with a special mandate of the Almighty,
to execute his sovereign will against transgressors, by some violent
penal chastisement, they cannot consistently plead that they have
the sanction of Christian justice. For, if they acknowledge that
they do not act under this influence and with this divine authority,
any other justice, to which they may appeal and lay claim, whether
2I
Jewish or heathen, will neither recommend the tribunal by which it
is administered, in the sight of men, as a Christian tribunal, nor will
it call down the divine blessing, which was pronounced by the
Saviour of the world upon the merciful.
We have an example of Christian jurisprudence in practical
operation, in the early history of Pennsylvania: and it appears
that the constable's staff was found to be sufficient, both to command
the respect of the people, and to enforce the execution of the criminal
laws, without sword or musket.
This argument, therefore, gives no countenance to the idea, that
all good men may not lawfully co-operate to preserve peace and
order, and to restrain the violent, as they would restrain those who
are devoid of reason. But it insists on the condition, that, in so
doing, they carry with them neither the temper nor the instruments
of violence. There is not in the universe a greater coward than
the man, who is guilty of some flagitious crime, and sees the indigna-
tion of the good on all sides roused against him :--“The wicked
55
fleeth when no man pursueth.” And there is not, on the contrary,
any one more truly bold than the good man, who goes forth unarmed,
confiding in God and his integrity, against the weapons of the
cruel;-“The righteous is bold as a lion.”
PLEA OF NECESSITY.
The word necessity, when applied to the moral conduct of
free agents, implies nothing more than duty, and in the case
of War, it involves two considerations : First, the duty of pre-
serving our existence; and secondly, obedience to moral or divine
requisition.
It is plain, that in all cases in which these duties may seem to
interfere, the former must yield to the latter. For, under the Chris-
tian dispensation, the promise or assurance of immortal felicity to all
who obey the divine commands, cuts off the justification that would
lean upon self-preservation as a paramount duty; and by making
'temporal concerns of little account in the scale, whether they be
possessions, privileges, rights, or the endearments of kindred, it
enhances the value of the eternal, and therefore exacts unconditional
submission to the divine law. If these principles did not hold, no
man would ever have been a martyr to the convictions of his con-
science.
Necessity cannot surely imply that when life appears to be in danger,
every other consideration is to be set aside in order to preserve it.
This is not the doctrine of Scripture : it is not even the doctrine of
heathen philosophy.
It was an old saying among those who were but partially enlight-
ened respecting a future state, Fiat justitia, ruat calum :—Let man
do his duty, whatever extremity may happen; and it was consistently
held that, in some cases, when pressed by violence, men ought rather
to surrender their lives, than submit to any act of turpitude or
ignominy, for the sake of prolonging their existence So, then, the
preservation of life was not to be regarded as the only end and
object of rational beings. For, virtue required that life itself should
be undervalued, when placed in competition with duty and true
honour. If a man were reduced to the supposed necessity of telling a
falsehood to save his life, would he be justified in violating the truth,
when he felt persuaded that there is a God in heaven to reward the
upright 2 If he were reduced to the supposed necessity of killing
another to save himself, would he be justified in breaking the Chris-
tian injunction, “not to resist evil,” when he entertained a religious
confidence that mercy would hereafter be extended to all that show
mercy P &
But it might happen, as it often has happened, that the
necessity of violent resistance might not be real, and that, in
the very crisis of alarm, by some unforeseen incident, life might
be preserved with honour. How lamentable, then, must be the
reflection to a Christian, that by yielding to revenge he had cut
off a fellow-creature in the midst of his crimes, who, by a little
kindness and persuasion from an enemy, might have been made a
friend, and who, by means of salutary discipline, might have been
turned from a course of wickedness to a state of acceptance with
his Maker.
The argument which supports the necessity of force being opposed
to force, assumes, that nations or individuals being threatened, and
life, or liberty, or property being in consequence endangered, arms
must be resorted to for the purpose of affording protection :
23
therefore, that those who meditate or offer violence, are to be resisted
with violence, as a matter of course, and, if possible, put to death.
Now, who is competent to judge of the necessity and the danger,
supposing the plea to be admitted : Is he who is impelled by fear
or anger ? or the sensitive politician who weaves his web at every
court, and is tremblingly alive to each of its vibrations 2 or is the
weaker state when threatened by the stronger the more competent
judge
There is no one, surely, more unfit for judging dispassionately of
what is right to be done in cases of imminent peril than the fearful.
Fear pictures imaginary dangers. It excludes all reliance upon
Providence. It therefore moves the mind from the settled resting-
place of fortitude, in which it is best prepared to meet and to overcome
danger by moral intrepidity. Hence fear ought not to govern a
rational being in the midst of peril, either as a motive or a guide.
What has the man of integrity to fear?
With respect to the quick and headlong impulse of anger, he
that seeks to attain any rational end, while under its influence,
instead of waiting for a calm, “puts to sea in the violence of a
storm.” As the instinctive principles which comprehend the appe-
tites and desires must be restrained, so nothing is more true than
that moral and intellectual beings are not to suffer the animal
principle of resentment to hurry them indiscriminately and without
deliberation into action.
If it be said that in well-disciplined armies the impulse is neither
that of fear nor anger, but that of military duty, and therefore to
them these strictures do not apply: we admit the objection so far
as it refers to armies as instruments. But the case is widely
different with those who make use of them. The soldier being
reduced by a voluntary act, to the state of passive obedience, makes
a conscience of submitting his will in every thing to that of his
superior ; whether he be commanded to shoot his fellow-soldier, or
to destroy his enemy and burn his habitation, or to seize the pro-
perty of his countrymen, or to expose his own life to certain
destruction : and if he conscientiously believes this duty to be
paramount, far be it from us to condemn him. We have not to do
with the different degrees of light in the minds of men, but with the
light of Scripture—the clear and explicit commands of Christ. When
24
it can be proved from these, that a man may resist evil, may pursue
bis revenge with the sword, may hate his enemy and take away his
life, then we will give up the argument. But we think there would
be more honesty in avowing that the yoke of Christian discipline is
too hard for us to bear, than in attempting to reconcile the duty of
forbearance with revenge, the love of our enemies with their de-
struction, and the peaceful character with the warlike.
The Christian law has respect to the highest degree of human
excellence : it admits no inferior standard of virtue : it will have
men to be Christians in deed and in truth. It does not insist upon
precise conformity in some, and allow partial conformity in others,
merely because the latter choose a path for themselves not quite so
straight. There is but one pattern of excellence proposed to
all for imitation. All may fall short in degree : but no man is
allowed to content himself with a relaxed discipline, or to fix any
inferior rule. If so, the rule might vary in every community; and
at last the conqueror might be esteemed more noble than the martyr;
and the warlike Mahomet be set up as a more worthy example for
men to follow than the peaceful Messiah.
Whatever allowance therefore may be made in the case of the
hired soldier; to those at the helm of Christian states, as lawgivers
and counsellors, who send him upon his commission, and give the
impulse to his movements, the same indulgence cannot, upon
Christian principles, be extended. Whether these may call it
honour or national independence, for which they have recourse to
arms, it cannot be doubted that the real motives for organizing
armies, arise from fear, jealousy, or resentment.
Now these are motives which ought not to enter into the mind
of a Christian, much less to influence his conduct. With respect
indeed to resentment, it would be more creditable at least to huma-
nity, that men should go forward to the work of death under this
animal influence,—because brute passion extinguishes for the time
what is generous and amiable, – than under the factitious and
delusive influence of any other principle which has acquired a
specious name among men, and which seems to permit the growth
of good and evil together, one of the most dangerous kinds of union,
because they are then so apt to be confounded, such as honour,
glory, and love of country. Human nature, the more it is refined
25
and enlightened, the more it ought to possess of the milk of human
kindness, and the less of a thirst for blood. True honour, true
glory, true love of country, if the terms were rightly under-
stood, would effectually restrain the inhabitants of any nation, who
knew their real interests, from engaging in conflicts that must tend
unavoidably to demoralize their countrymen, to waste their strength
and resources, and to subject themselves to reprisals from their
enemies. But honour, glory, and love of country, by means of
capricious and false associations, which artfully cover a deformity
that could not be endured if the veil were removed, have long been
prostituted to ends alike derogatory to reason, and abhorrent from
the meek spirit of Christianity, and cannot therefore in any way be
supposed to exalt the dignity of human nature. If military glory
could have this effect, the world ought to be used as a great arena
on which contending armies should be perpetually struggling for the
support and exercise of the military virtues ; and not be (as Chris-
tians profess it should be) a theatre for the display of benevolence,
the diffusion of knowledge, the propagation of truth, the improvement
and happiness of the human race, and the universal spread of peace
and righteousness. } .
Some of the cases of presumed necessity, which have been urged
by politicians, for embroiling two nations in war, are almost calcu-
lated to excite a smile—if it were possible to excite a smile on such
a subject. The reasons, have been so puerile, and the causes of
difference so easy to have been removed by a little mutual conces-
sion, that it is marvellous that any stress should have been laid on
such pretended justifications; for these are seen by the dispassion-
ate observers at a distance, in their true light, as unworthy of the
least consideration, in the scale of humanity and true national glory.
The sensitive jealousy of politicians towards rival nations is always
rankling as in a state of feverish excitement. To them, “trifles
light as air” are strong confirmations of intended coolness and
hostility. They raise the phantom and they pursue it. Hence a
political necessity for war has been urged, on account of an obsolete
claim of some insignificant portion of territory, or an alleged insult
offered to a flag or an ambassador, or a breach of some state
punctilio, or the exclusive monopoly of some article of commerce,
or some private pique between rulers or ministers, or the fancied
IX. --PART I. C
26
undue preponderance in the scale of balanced power, or some other
of the many bubbles blown by secret ambition, and constantly
floating in the fluctuating element of diplomatic intrigue. It is mani-
fest that every one of these causes could really have no more to do
with necessity than the appearance of a comet ; which, in times of
superstition, it was imagined, did exert some necessary influence in
producing war.
“The Comet from its flaming hair
Shakes down diseases, pestilence and war.
Pope's Homer.
When a weak state is menaced by one that is powerful, there is
prima facie a strong justification for taking up arms to defend what
are called its Rights. The cause is supposed to be one which
Heaven must approve. The love of liberty, matural to man, awakes
enthusiasm; the God of justice is invoked in aid of the enterprise :
and, as if to encourage and embolden, the secret prayers of the friends
of civil liberty in all countries, who look at the object without
regarding the means, are put up for its success. And what are the
usual consequences As if the Almighty Controller of human events
designed to shew his creature man, that in this age of the world, it
is not by savage contention that the ends of his sovereign justice
should be attained in the earth, the weak state is overthrown:
wickedness is triumphant; thousands perhaps are slain ; , and the
remainder reduced to a condition far more abject and degraded than
if they had submitted peaceably to the aggression, with no other
appearance of resistance than that moral sting which an unoffending
and peaceable state throws against its adversary, when it protests
firmly and energetically, with reason and justice on its side, against
wanton and unprincipled aggression. In so hard a case as the latter,
as human nature is constituted, the very agents would be ashamed
of the commission they had undertaken ; and they would be disposed,
as far as lay in their power, to lessen the weight of oppression upon
the innocent, instead of adding to the burden.
Of all the reasonings in favour of the use of arms, there is none
which comes home more closely to flesh and blood, or is more
triumphantly urged against the disciple of peace, than that which
supposes the circumstance of a civil war, and of a murderer at our
27
own houses. In civil wars, it is well known that violence, as in the
contentions of kindred, rages with unnatural fury; for men will bear
oppression from strangers better than from their own countrymen;
so that he who professes to be neutral, instead of being regarded as
a friend, is commonly looked upon as an enemy by both parties.
And when the peace of a family circle is invaded, and instañt
destruction seems to be impending over our dearest connexions, all
that is human within us is roused by the argument in question, to
justify the immediate attempt to destroy the guilty for the purpose of
defending the innocent.
Abstractedly viewing the two cases, there could scarcely be a
difference of opinion respecting the course a man of common worldly
prudence would adopt. es f
In the one case he would connect himself with one side or the
other, as well to secure his safety as to fulfil what he might consider
a point of duty. In the other he would obey the impulse of his
sensitive nature, and would pursue the first bent of his mind, not only
in resisting the meditated wrong, but in taking away the life of his
opponent. With those to whom this world is every thing, and father,
mother, wife, children, friends, riches, possessions, privileges, and
life, are dearer than the cross of Christ, with the promises of a
blessed immortality annexed it is perfectly clear that it would be
nugatory to argue in this matter. But with any who place their
hopes in heaven, and their reliance upon Providence, and who would
rather surrender, the object most dear to them than violate the least
of the commands of the Prince of Peace, a momentary inquiry at
least might be admitted :- tº g
Will heaven, indeed, permit the arm of violence to rob me, when
obeying the commands of Christ, of my friends or property, and
perhaps my life And shall I obey his commands by pursuing my
enemy even to death P by hurrying an assassin to the grave in the
midst of his crime, who may possibly become my friend, and sincerely
repent of his wicked design : Shall I resist the violent on his own
ground, with his own weapons, and on his own principles—those of
violence 2 If I do, how then is the standard of peace to be supported
in the world P. How is the example of Christ himself imitated and
recommended to others by such conduct
If the first impulse is right and must be obeyed, these questions
c 2
28
are not appropriate; but if these questions strike the sincere Chris-
tian with any weight, and cannot be answered without serious mis-
givings, it is most probable that the first impulse is wrong, or, at
least, that it is to be restrained by a higher principle.
After all, therefore, that can be said on either side, we must at
last come to this question, whether the Lord's devoted followers,
the peacemakers on whom Christ pronounced his blessing—
(not Christians by name and tradition only, not those who would
cement the interests of two worlds together which are incompatible)—
are to rely upon Divine Providence in their extremity, or on the use
of means which seem directly to involve a breach of the laws of Christ,
and to foster the indulgence of propensities entirely opposed to the
enlargement of his peaceful kingdom. It is impossible to argue the
case upon Christian principles, without distinct reference to the
immediate care of providence : for unless this be taken for granted,
all human reasoning is against the principles we defend. If this be
admitted, with those proper limitations which man’s free agency
requires, the cause of truth and innocence and justice must be the
cause of God himself, and defensible only by moral weapons. He
that proceeds to violence in the support of moral order, usurps the
sceptre of the Sovereign Ruler, and employs the thunder, and the
earthquake, and the flood, and the lightning, against his fellow-
creature. But there is this essential difference : in the hands
of the Almighty the elemental conflict is succeeded by a state
of calm, and it contributes to some good natural design, bringing
things into harmony; whereas, in the hands of man, when
he attempts to wield the instruments of vengeance, in other words,
of physical power, against his enemy, whatever calm may ensue,
it is not the quiet of harmony, but of smothered hate, ready, on
the first slight occasion, to burst into fury. In the one case there
is only a deformity of the natural world, which is slight and transient
and salutary in its effects; in the other a state of moral disorder,
which the conflict does not terminate, but aggravates by producing
heart-burnings and misery, and various forms of moral evil. For it
must be confessed, that war puts in operation a more demoralizing,
inhuman, and unchristian machinery, than was ever devised by the
perverted ingenuity of man. Its causes and its effects go hand in
hand, and like the tree and its fruits, betray their near affinity. On
29
one side we may see the lust of dominion and of military fame, with
its aspiring notions: on the other, fear and revenge, with its low
degrading passions, all alike antichristian, entering into the motives.
. . As to the effects, we shall scarcely err in affirming that few con-
querors ever yet returned from battle, without some secret stings of
conscience, nor armies, without more or less moral corruption; nor
has any nation ever withdrawn itself from a contest without paying a
severe and bloody price for all its victories. Cicero would not have
declared that he preferred the most unjust and disadvantageous peace
to the justest war—“Inquissimam pacem justissimo bello antefero”—
if his experience had not proved this to be the case. It cannot be
doubted that he deduced this conclusion from facts more than from
theory. And Tacitus, another enlightened Roman, takes it for
granted as a thing in itself obvious, that it n'as infinitely better for
a nation to cultivate peace than to perplex itself with war—“Quis
ignorat satius ac melius esse pace frui quam bello vexari?” It is not
to be supposed that heathen statesmen would have established prin-
ciples like these in direct opposition to fact and expediency. How
strong, then, must be the ground taken by the Christian statesman
in advocating peace, when he finds that the principles of that religion
which was sent to lead human nature to its highest perfection, con-
firm the practical conclusions of the wise heathen l No man can be
so bold as to argue that any one of the precepts of Christ, or any
part of his conduct, can be construed into a direct or indirect vindi-
cation of war. On the other hand, the positive injunctions to
maintain peace, and to subdue the elements of war, are numerous
and unequivocal. And the same thing may be said of the Apostles,
with the casual exception of Peter, who met with a signal reproof at
the time, strong enough to establish the law of peace for ever : “Put
up thy sword into the sheath : for all they that take the sword shali
perish with the sword.”
It has therefore been discovered by experience, (and experience is
in unison with the pure doctrines of Christianity,) that there are
principles of human conduct—principles opposed to brute violence in
all its forms—whose operation is so powerful, that while they prove
a support to the innocent, by turning them to an Almighty Protector,
they soften the fury of their oppressors, and frequently change it
into admiration : so that these oppressors cannot but observe the
30
contrast between the self-protecting armour of piety, and the deso-
lating instruments of cruelty. *
It is a fact of not unfrequent occurrence, that, when things have
been brought to the most critical juncture, and, according to human
apprehension, death or bondage has been inevitable, those, who have
been enabled to trust with meekness in Divine help, have experienced
wonderful preservation. And, on the contrary, how many examples
are there of those, who have resisted violence by violence, falling
victims | So that, active resistance, it would appear, often defeats
its end : while non-resistance, accompanied with suitable dispositions,
has the immediate effect of disarming ferocity, and suspending the
meditated blow. It is not necessary to look far into human nature
to explain the theory of these moral phenomena. But it is time
that Christian statesmen should know, and that they should act
upon the conviction, that the system of Christianity contains the
profoundest principles of philosophy as well as of Divine truth; and
that so far from being visionary in their application, these principles
are of the highest practical utility, at all times and under all circum-
stances : and happy are they who have faith to put them in practice,
whether as individuals or as nations.
The preceding observations are made with a view to prepare the
reader's mind for the following narrative, and to illustrate the
nature and operation of the principles of Peace ; and the events are
recorded for the purpose of showing, by well-authenticated facts,
how a Chritian Society, professing and acting upon these principles,
conducted itself in the afflicting crisis of civil warfare; when many
individuals and families of this Society, from time to time, found
themselves at the mercy, and, at least outwardly, in the power, of
some of the most undisciplined of their fellow-creatures.
It is supposed that facts will have greater influence in convincing
the judgment, than reasonings however clear, or precepts however
highly sanctioned.
The first class of incidents about to be recorded, relates to the
peculār-trials experienced by some members of the Society, in the
county of Wexford, the principal theatre of contention in the South,
in consequence of their determination to take no part in war, as
31
well as to the manner in which they were preserved. . The next
"relates to the threats and dangers to which they were subjected, for
the firmness and faithfulness with which they endeavoured to dis-
charge the important duty of religious worship, and to the way in
which these threats were defeated. A third class, to which the
reader's attention will be directed, refers to the trials, connected in
some degree with the last, arising from the refusal of many indi-
viduals to conform to the ceremonies of the Romish church, which
exposed. them, in the circle of their families, as well as abroad, to
the danger of instant death. And the fourth class will embrace a
more comprehensive range of incident relating to the Society, in other
parts of the country which were the scenes of commotion.
In every place, it will appear, that the same principles of conduct
produced effects of a similar description.
* { CHAP. II. -
State of the Society of Friends, previous to, and during the Rebellion.
It is generally known that an objection to take part in War, in
any shape, forms one of the tenets of the Society of Friends, com-
monly called Quakers. This objection is purely religious, and is
founded upon what they conceive to be the spirit of the Gospel
dispensation, as it is illustrated in the precepts of Christ and his
Apostles, and exemplified in their practice. They consider that it
must follow as a necessary consequence, that a religion breathing
peace and good-will to men, cannot, in any case, be supported by
the spirit of War. They believe that, on the contrary, the practice
of this evil, among the professors of Christianity, has tended, In Ore
than any other circumstance, to prevent its propagation in the
world, to tarnish its excellency in the eyes of Jews and Pagans, and
to confirm their speculative and practical errors. As it was not by
the secular arm, but, in direct opposition to the sword, that it insi-
nuated itself into the minds of men, and was first promulgated; so
they believe, that its final establishment in the nations of the earth
will be effected through the medium of the softening influence of
its pacific spirit, and by the glorious example of peace and concord
among its followers. a
32
In the year 1798, the state of Ireland afforded a striking occasion
to the members of this Society, who are scattered abroad in different
parts of that kingdom, to put the efficacy of their peaceful principles
to the test. It is, however, to be presumed, that, even if outward
preservation had not been experienced, they who conscientiously take
the maxims of Peace for the rule of their conduct, would hold it not
less their duty to conform to these principles: because the reward of
such as endeavour to act in obedience to their Divine Master's will, is
not always to be looked for in the present life. While, therefore, the
fact of their outward preservation would be no sufficient argument
to themselves that they had acted as they ought to act in such a crisis,
it affords a striking lesson to those who will take no principle, that
has not been verified by experience, for a rule of human conduct,
even if it should have the sanction of Divine authority.
When a kingdom is divided in itself, it is difficult for any to
remain neutral. Either the passions of human nature, by the influence
of many private and public bonds, will be pressed to a near union
with one of the contending parties; or the Christian principle of
universal charity must operate, uniformly and powerfully, in main-
taining a dignified and amicable relation with all. It is therefore
necessary to subdue the natural propensity which we feel to imbibe
the fears, hopes, wishes, and prejudices of our neighbour, to bear his
reproach for our seeming apathy, and in this way to clear the avenue
of the mind from the seeds of contention, that in reality, as well as by
profession, we may be followers of Peace.
Whatever secret and slowly-operating causes might have con-
spired to produce the Rebellion of 1798, it is certain that different
objects were proposed by two great classes of the insurgents. By
some, civil liberty—a specious pretence in all ages to the warm and
enterprising,-by others, uniformity in religious faith—an imposing
object to the dark and bigoted, were held up as justifiable reasons
for erecting the standard of sedition, and plunging their native coun-
try into the horrors of a civil war. The members of a Society which
neither united with the political nor the religious views of these fac-
tious bands, might naturally be looked upon with suspicion by both ;
at least, they were not likely to be considered as friends ; and, as a
part of the community, which did not exert itself actively in aiding
the power it was bound, in all cases of purely civil obligation, to
33
obey, in order to suppress a rebellion, the motives and objects of
which it could not possibly approve, the Society, in its relation to
the government, seemed to manifest but a spurious loyalty. It was
in fact openly charged, not only with a dereliction of its civil duties,
but with a tacit reliance upon its neighbours, to step forward in the
defence of rights and privileges, in which it was as much interested
as others. Hence, whatever forbearance the government itself was
disposed to exercise towards the Society, the professed loyalists, as
they were termed, regarded its members in no more favourable
light than as drones, unwilling to work, and ready to feed upon the
honey supplied by the industrious bees. Whether some individuals
who, having the name, were but little bound to the principles of the
Society, might not have deserved this imputation, is not a matter of
much moment. For, were the question to be decided in the affir-
mative, the censure could neither lessen the value of the principles
themselves, nor affect the general character of the body in its con-
scientious support of these principles.
These were a few of the critical circumstances in which the Society
of Friends was placed at this period, when private individuals be-
longing to it were engaged to lift up the standard of peace to their
contending countrymen, and, with few exceptions, enabled to pre-
serve a remarkable consistency on this memorable occasion. Many
of these were separated at a considerable distance from each other,
very often without an earthly counsellor to flee to, and therefore
deprived of any other refuge than the light and law of God in their
own hearts.
Long before the rising, a spirit of contention was working in the
minds of the people; opposed factions were increasing their num-
bers, and marking out friends and foes; in the silence and gloomy
reserve which characterized the multitude, a storm was seen to be
gathering; and it appeared obvious that as deep-seated animosity
was concentrating its forces on either side, nothing short of a dread-
ful conflict could extinguish their mutual hatred in mutual slaughter.
If the members of the Society in question did not anticipate this
calamity, they seem, at least, to have wisely taken some precautions
against it. One of the means adopted by the insurgents in the first
place, to prepare for the struggle, and by the constituted authorities
in the next, to defeat their purpose, was the robbery and the search
34
for arms in private houses. So, early, as the year 1796, and in one
particular province in 1795, the Quarterly Meetings of the Society
were induced to recommend to all their members, through the
medium of Monthly Meetings, that those individuals who had guns
or other, weapons in their houses should destroy them ; and the
General or National Meeting of 1796 confirmed this recommenda-
tion; in order, as the document states, “to prevent their being
made use of to the destruction of any of our fellow-creatures, – and
more fully and clearly to support our peaceable and Christian tes-
timony in these perilous times.” -
Committees were appointed by the several Monthly Meetings
throughout the Society, to go round to the different members for
this purpose; and it appears that, in most families, these committees
had little more to do than to communicate their business ; some
having previously destroyed all such instruments, and others giving
full expectation of their intention immediately to comply with the
recommendation of the superior meetings, whilst a few, who could
not be prevailed upon to make this sacrifice, were found to have
been generally inconsistent in their conduct in other respects; so
that they soon incurred the censure of the Society, and suffered
disownment. It was certified that, upon the whole, the labours of
the members to carry this wholesome advice into; effect were at-
tended with a considerable degree of success.
It is related by an individual who resided at Ferns, in the county
of Wexford, that, being appointed on one of these committees, he
saw the necessity of first cleansing his own hands; and he took a
fowling-piece which he had, and broke it in pieces in the street
opposite to his own house ; an example of fidelity to his principles,
and a spectacle of wonder to his neighbours. .- -
. A little after this, when the government ordered all arms to be
given up to the magistrates, it was a source of satisfaction to many,
that, in a general way, the members of the Society were found to
be without any such thing in their possession.
On this head, a circumstance, relating to the Friend above alluded
to, deserves to be noticed ; as it shows at once the uncertainty of
life, and the weakness of human dependency. But, in stating this
fact, or others of a similar nature, the author hopes none of his
readers will imagine that he is anxious to hold up such events to
ge
35
view, as in the light of judgments upon those who did not see the
religious necessity of abstaining from war. Many well-disposed
persons, of different denominations, he has no doubt, were permitted
to be cut off by the arm of violence, during the time of the rebel-
lion, in mercy and not in judgment. It is the object of this pub-
lication to record simply the facts: it is not for the author to judge
any of his fellow-creatures.
. Some of the neighbouring magistrates, with the clergyman of the
parish, came to his house, and, the Friend being absent, expostulated
with his wife on the supposed impropriety of his having destroyed
his gun instead of giving it up to the government, for the alleged
purpose of defending the loyalists against the fomenters and plotters
of rebellion, and for the preservation of himself and his family. On
which occasion the clergyman, who seems to have been an amiable
man, made this spontaneous remark, “That he believed the Friend
had put his confidence in a higher power.” On the day the town
of Enniscorthy was burned, this clergyman was murdered, and his
body, with many others, was exposed for several days in the streets,
where they were left to be eaten by the swine, till party rage had so
far subsided as to embolden a few Friends to bury their remains.
One of the magistrates was also murdered, and his house was
burned over the body.
As the members of the Society, at so early a period as the year
1796, by taking the precautionary step of destroying their arms, mani-
fested to the government their peaceable intentions; so, in the few
months of turbulence and dismay which immediately preceded the
Rebellion of 1798, they were in a considerable degree relieved from
the midnight depredations of the rebels, to which most of their
neighbours were exposed, in the lawless search for destructive
weapons; because it was now generally known that none such were
kept in their houses. And the National Meeting of the Society was
concerned, officially to acknowledge its belief, “that this early
destruction of these instruments was, under Providence, a means of
lessening in some degree the effusion of human blood, (as these
weapons would probably have fallen into the hands of violent men),
and might have also tended to preserve some of the members of
the Society themselves from blood, who if they had had guns
in their houses, might have used them in an unguarded moment
36
of surprise or attack, so as to take away the lives of their fellow-
creatures.” -
A Friend, living near the town of Taghmon, remarks, that he had
personal proof of the advantage of having destroyed the guns kept
for domestic purposes; and he gives the following instance : “Two
parties of insurgents coming near my father's residence during the
Rebellion, an individual of one party of them Snapped a gun at the
other; when an armed man came to the front door, and on my
coming towards him, presented his gun at my breast, asserting that
a gun had been snapped at their party by some person of our
family. I then felt less of fear, than often during that period, when
in less apparent danger, and told him, we had destroyed our guns,
and that there had been no arms in the house except what their
party brought into it, for a considerable time ; appealing to our
servants, who confirmed the truth thereof. And, soon after, some,
probably of his party, came, and he being, I supposed, informed
of the real circumstances of the case, withdrew, when I saw one of
the party whom I had some knowledge of, and who appeared
friendly disposed to me; and on going to speak with him, I saw, in
the passage to the house, numbers sitting in groups, as if consulting
on what had occurred.”
As the state of public affairs was drawing nearer to a crisis, the
situation of the Society, especially of those who resided in the vicinity
of the contending parties, was a subject of deep and awful solicitude
to its feeling members; and many individuals had the efficacy of their
religious principles against War, put, in various ways, to severe proof.
Amongst these, the Friend before alluded to, residing in the
village of Ferns, in the county of Wexford, who is represented to
have been constitutionally weak in body and timid in disposition,
had to endure a considerable share of close trials; and, notwith-
standing his natural infirmities, it appears that, in most cases, he
was enabled to support his principles with exemplary firmness.
A party of militia being stationed at Ferns, the Earl of M-, who
commanded, came to this Friend, and desired he would give up part
of his house, which was then used as a store, for a guard-house for
the soldiers. The requisition being sudden, the friend was put to
a stand what he should answer; and, although he might have refused
it on the ground of its being occupied as a store, yet, knowing that
37
this inconvenience could be obviated, he was not easy to cloak the
real cause of objection with any disguise or subterfuge. Con-
sidering, therefore, that this was a fit opportunity to lift up the
standard of peace and to bear his testimony against war, he honestly
told the commander, “that the apartment he requested was occupied
as a store room, - but besides, that the purposes for which it
was wanted were such as he could not unite with, having a con-
scientious scruple against war, and every thing connected with it.”
Upon this, the Earl of M
soldiers who were with him to afford the Friend no protection,
in case any disturbance should arise. To this observation the
latter replied, that “he hoped he should not trust to or apply
for military protection.” The commander went away greatly
displeased, and seemed to mark out this Friend as a disaffected
person; indeed he did not know how soon a prison might be his
grew very angry, and desired the
lot ; especially as one of the militia-men, who was quartered at his
house for many weeks, being entertained at free cost, propagated
many false reports of him, with respect to political matters; so that
his situation became increasingly perilous.
Some months after this, the military began to act with great rigour
towards those that were suspected of being United Irishmen,*—
burning their houses and stacks of corn, &c. and fastening caps
besmeared with pitch upon their heads. They were preparing to
burn a house of this description in the village of Ferns: and the
same Friend, feeling pity for the man's wife and children, who would
thus be deprived of a habitation, was induced to intercede with the
commanding officer of the militia on their behalf; stating that he
did not come to intermeddle between him and the suspected man :
but, pitying the poor wife and children, he thought it would be hard
treatment to deprive them of shelter and the means of subsistence,
when the man was fully in his power; adding, “though he might be
criminal, probably they were innocent of his crime.” During this
expostulation, the officer became very warm in his temper, and
charged the Quakers with meddling, in some cases, to prevent the
* Those who opposed the Insurgents were sometimes called Loyalists,
Orangemen, Protestants, Yeomen.—The Insurgents were also termed Pike-
men, United Irishmen, Rebels, and sometimes they were even termed Roman
Catholics, as chiefly consisting of that class, at least in the South of Ireland.
38
execution of justice, when, in others, they would give no assistance
to the government. . . . . . . .
A short time after this, when the United Irishmen got the ascen:
dency in the town, this Friend was enabled to render the officer some
important services; and, from the grateful acknowledgments ex-
pressed by the latter in return, he had the satisfaction of thinking,
that the prejudice of the officer was not only removed, but exchanged
for a feeling of friendship. This occurrence afforded an interesting
example of the blessed fruits of a peaceable conduct; the same indi-
.vidual using his influence alternately with both parties whilst in
power,<-an influence which nothing but an undeviating course of
benevolence towards all his fellow-creatures could give him—to
intercede for the depressed and afflicted. . . . .
On another occasion, the militia were preparing to hang some sus-
pected persons, for not delivering up their weapons, and to fastem
pitch caps on the heads of others. The Friend was fearful of being
applied to for ropes, which he had for sale, as he could not be easy
to sell them for that purpose: and yet he saw that refusal might in-
volve him in some danger; as martial law had been proclaimed,
and life and property were subjected to military discretion. How-
ever, when some of the military came to buy ropes and limen, he
had the courage to refuse to sell what was intended to torment or
destroy a fellow-creature. . The articles were accordingly taken by
force : and,though payment was offered, he refused it.
; : This occurrence took place a little before the general rising of the
United Irishmen in that part of the country, and he had reason to
believe that, under the direction of Providence, it contributed to the
preservation of himself and his family, at that juncture.
For, the Rebels having received information that he refused to sell
ropes to the military for the purpose of hanging them, and pitch to
put on the caps to torment them, placed a sentry at his door, the day
they entered the town, to protect his house from destruction. And,
a short time after this, when the army was approaching, and the
United Men were about to fly from the place, some of the latter told
him that, when the soldiers entered, they would consider every
house that was not damaged as belonging to a Rebel or disaffected
person ; and, in order to preserve his house from destruction by the
military, and probably to save the lives of the inhabitants, they would
39
break the windows before they took leave of him; which they accord-
ingly did, and his house was not attacked by the soldiers.--This fact,
however, is a little beyond the date of the narrative.
To return, therefore, to the order of events, the same Friend ob-
serving that on the eve of the insurrection a melancholy silence pre-
vailed, he inquired of a person if there was anything more than usual
in prospect, and was told that the country people were collecting in
large bodies. At this intelligence, a cloud of darkness, as he
described it, overspread his mind, and he was brought to a state of
unutterable distress. He knew, indeed, that he had endeavoured to
place his dependence on an Almighty Protector. But the feelings
natural to every human being possessed of a Christian, peaceable
disposition, at the prospect of the gulph that was opening to thou-
sands of his misguided fellow-creatures, of the ruin and desolation
about to fall upon his country, and of imminent danger to himself
and his family, produced for some hours a conflict, of which he found
it impossible to convey an adequate idea, and almost beyond what he
seemed able to endure.
At midnight the town was filled with consternation : guards and
divisions of the army were placed in different quarters; and the
Protestant inhabitants were in continual terror.
He prevailed upon his family to retire to bed; but they could not
sleep; yet they endeavoured to attain that solemn retirement of soul
in which it is best prepared to meet the calamities of life, and to rely
on the mercy and power of Omnipotence. f
Early in the morning, while he was in much anxiety as to the
event, a person, whom he supposed to be one of the United Irish-
men, came into the house, and said, “Let who may be killed, the
Quakers will be spared.” These words, trifling as they might
appear, seemed to him, at the time, like the intimation given to
Gideon, when he was listening to the man in the Midianites' camp
telling his dream to his fellow, which tended to dissipate his fears,
and to confirm his confidence. He then felt his mind somewhat
encouraged to hope that their lives would be preserved. g
On that morning, the scene was very awful : the houses and hag-
gards of corn were in flames in every direction around them, some
being set on fire by the yeomanry, and others by their enemies; so
that between the two parties, total devastation seemed to be at
40
hand;—the Protestant inhabitants were fleeing into the towns and
villages for safety, and the military guards under arms in all
quarters;– persons flying into town, having escaped from the hands
of murderers in the country : some of them wounded, and bringing
the news of others that were slain. Property was then of little
account; for it was every one's concern to escape with his life.
Being informed that some of the fugitive Protestants were exceed-
ingly in want of something to eat, the same Friend had victuals
prepared, and sent to invite them to allay their hunger; but it so
happened that none of them came to avail themselves of his
benevolence.
The scene now became changed, though the prospect was still
gloomy. For, in the evening the military left the town, and marched
to Emmiscorthy; and, together with the army, not only the Protestants
who came into Ferns for safety, but those who resided in the village.
He was not aware of their departure till he observed that the
place was almost depopulated. A state of things so opposite, though
it was accompanied with marks of desolation, gave, however, a little
time to contrast the quiet of peace with the alarms of war; and
though short, this interval of calm was looked upon as a favour.
But in regard to the issue, his mind was still occupied with painful
suspense, which continued till the next morning, when the town and
neighbourhood became filled with an undisciplined and ungovernable
multitude, consisting of many thousands of the United Irishmen,
following the footsteps of the army to Enniscorthy, and demolishing
the houses of those called Loyalists and Orangemen; for their owners
were fled.
His house was soon filled with these people: when, to his astonish-
ment and humbling admiration, instead of the massacre he and his
family had dreaded, they were met by caresses and marks of friend-
ship; the Insurgents declaring that they intended them no injury,
but would fight for them, and protect them, and put them in their
bosoms; adding, that they required nothing but provisions. They
seemed, indeed, to be in extreme want of something to eat, and the
victuals which had been prepared for those they called enemies,
were now ready for them : when they had therefore consumed what
was provided, they proceeded on their route to Enniscorthy.
Soon after, in the direction of this town, which was about six
4]
miles distant, the columns of smoke could be seen rising from the
burning houses; and in the evening some of the United Men re-
turned, with tidings that Enniscorthy was in their possession, and
that their camp was fixed on Vinegar-hill over the town.
The next day, a man with a malicious expression of countenance,
and having a long spit in his hand, came to the Friend and threat-
ened to kill him for some alleged offence, saying, “I have killed
Turner,” (meaning a neighbouring magistrate,) “and have burned
him in his own house, and now I will rack" you as I please.” He
endeavoured to convince the man of his mistake; and, being joined
by the persuasions of a neighbour, with much difficulty prevailed
upon him to be quiet ; so that at length he parted in friendship.
The day after Enniscorthy was taken by the Insurgents, several
of the poor distressed Protestants, mostly women, returned home-
ward to the village, which they had deserted when the army left it.
Two females, servants to the Bishop of Ferns, and a woman whose
husband was killed the day before, came, with the children of the
latter, to the Friend's door, as persons that had no dwelling-place.
They stood in the street, looking up and down in all the eloquence
of silent distress. Though he had but small accommodation, his
heart and his house were both open to the afflicted: and, notwith-
standing the severe threatenings he received from the then ruling
party, for entertaining those to whom they were hostile, he and his
family endeavoured to accommodate all they could without dis-
tinction. Even of the United Irishmen, such as staid in the town,
and as many of their wives and families as could find room, used to
come to his house at night to lodge, supposing themselves more
secure than in their own habitations.
This was also the case in the houses of most other members of
the Society, in any way exposed to the contending parties. And,
in such a state of anarchy, when all laws were disregarded, and
every man acted according to his own will, however perverse, it was
not surprising that instances of ingratitude should now and then
appear ; one of these may be mentioned :—Previously to the break-
ing out of the rebellion, the military had destroyed the habitation
* The term Rack was in common use during the Rebellion, to denote the
entire demolition of the interior of the houses of those who were considered
encinies.
IX. —-PART I. D
42
and property of a neighbouring farmer, who, with his family, sought
shelter at the house of another member of the Society, near Ferns.
He provided them with one of his out-houses to live in, until they
could better their condition. But when their party got the ascen-
dency, the farmer took possession of his protector's dwelling-house,
and manifested his intention of turning him and his family out of it;
and probably would have carried it into execution, had not the short
duration of the United Irishmen's power prevented this ungrateful
determination.
It may be noticed that, during the continuance of the struggle,
the houses of Friends appeared to be marked out for places of enter-
tainment. They were almost constantly full, day and night: and it
was matter of surprise that their provisions held out as they did to
the end of the conflict. The members of the Society, and some of
the then oppressed party, sometimes conveyed provisions to one
another privately. The United Men sometimes offered part of their
own stock; but when it was known to be plunder, or, as it was
called, the spoils of war, the Friends declined to accept it; and,
it was evident, that such refusal was mostly taken in the light of
an offence. Indeed, the United Men often discovered their chagrin
because they could not prevail upon the members of the Society
to unite with them in their requisitions.
From the number of United Men, who came to lodge almost
every night in the Friends' houses, these were in continual danger of
falling a prey to the King's army, if it should make an attack on the
town : and, on the other hand, the Friends were continually threat-
ened by the pikemen for not turning out the poor fugitive Protestant
women and their children, who had taken shelter under their roofs.
But although they appeared to be in danger, according to human
apprehension, from both parties, they were in fact alternately pro-
tected by both.
The Friend above-mentioned, who was nearly dispossessed by
the ungrateful farmer, being, at one time, much threatened for not
complying in this respect, very candidly told the men who threat-
ened him, that he would not turn out poor distressed creatures from
his house, whatever might be the consequence; and, seeing his
firmness, they did not enforce compliance, although they expressed
great dissatisfaction.
43
Some of them also came one morning to the other Friend, and
told him, his house was to be burned that day, in consequence of
his refusal to turn out the Protestant women that were in it. He
replied, that “if they did so he could not help it; but that as long
as he had a house, he would keep it open to succour the distressed ;
and, if they burned it for that reason, he must only turn out along
with them and share in their affliction.
It so happened that this was the regular day on which the Meet-
ing for Worship of the Society, in that quarter, was to be held, about
a mile from Ferns; and, notwithstanding the alarming denunciation, he
considered it his duty to take his family with him to Meeting, leaving
his home with a heavy heart, as he expected soon to be without an
habitation as well as the means of present support. On his return
to Ferns, however, he was rejoiced to see his dwelling entire; and
his heart was filled with praises and thankfulness to the good Pro-
vidence that had preserved it. Whatever might have been the
reason that prevented them from executing the threat, their evil
disposition towards him on that account seemed to be changed;
for they did not make any requisition of the kind afterwards.
Throughout the calamity, it was his uniform experience, that the
more he attended to what he conceived to be right in his own
conduct, the more he seemed to be respected by them ; even
when he expostulated with them on account of the cruelties com-
mitted by their party, as at Vinegar-hill, Wexford, and Scullabogue.
They quietly listened to his remonstrance, and frequently acknow-
ledged the wrong.
A party of the King's army stationed in Newtown-barry, came to
Ferns to disperse the United Irishmen who held possession of the
place. The latter at first made some demonstrations as if they
would risk a battle ; but seeing that the regular troops opposed to
them were provided with cannon, they fled away from the town.
On hearing that the army was coming in, the Friend stood at his
own door, lest he should be suspected of being an enemy. When
the military came near his door, one of the soldiers stepping out of
the ranks, presented a gun at his breast, and was on the point of
drawing the trigger, when the Friend called to him “to desist
from murder.” The soldier, like one struck with amazement,
immediately let the gun fall from his shoulder; and presently his
44
officers interfered for the Friend's protection ; whose life was thus
preserved, as on the right hand and on the left.
Some of the inhabitants of this village, who were found unarmed
in the houses, being made prisoners by the soldiers, they pleaded
their innocence; but, in such a state of things, they could not easily
prove it. The commanding officer therefore desired, that if there
were any Quakers in the town, they would get certificates of good
behaviour from them ; which, he added, he would be willing to
accept, and then to liberate them. The same Friend was accordingly
applied to on behalf of several, and procured their liberation. Had
he been put to death by the hand of the hasty soldier, it is easy
to see that those who obtained their release afterwards by his
means, would probably have shared the same fate, for want of
credible testimonials; and thus one sacrifice would have been added
to another, and Death would have multiplied its victims without any
regard to their innocence. Thus it is when violence is permitted
to reign; and thus it would be on every occasion if there were
not an over-ruling Providence to say to the peaceful sufferer in his
wrongs—“It is enough,” and to the proud oppressor in his fury—
“Thus far shalt thou go.”
A Friend of Enniscorthy informed an acquaintance, that on the
day when the town was taken from the Rebels by the army, he was
in great distress, thinking it the most critical and dangerous time of
the whole ; for, he supposed, that, on the entrance of the soldiers,
they would consider that every man, whom they found alive in
coloured clothes, was a rebel, and consequently would put him to
death. As he was walking up and down one of the upper street-
rooms of his house, he heard voices in the street, and, looking out,
saw some soldiers carrying a wounded man, (supposed to be an
officer,) and seeking for a place of safety in which to deposit their
charge. The Friend, opening the window, told them, they might
bring him into his house. On hearing his voice one of the soldiers
looked up, and, seeing the Friend, exclaimed, “That is a Quaker,
we may safely go in there ;” which they did, with their wounded
comrade: and, when the main body of the army entered, seeing
soldiers in the house, they went in without fear, and without injuring
the place. One of the Generals took up his quarters for some time
in the house.
E.N ID OF PART I.
Tract No. IX. Part II. of the Society for the Pro-
motion of Permanent and Universal Peace.
THE
PRINCIPLES OF PEACE.
E X D M P L IFI E D
THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS IN IRELAND,
During the Rebellion of the Year 1798;
WITII
SOME PRELIMINARY AND CONCLUDING OBSERVATIONS.
-Q-
BY
THOMAS HANCOCK, M. D.
—“Q-
I N T H R. E. E. P. A. R. T. S.
PART II.
STEREOTYPE EDITION.
39.01ttali :
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AND ALL OTHER BOOKSELLERS ;
AND AT THE DEPOSITORY, STAR COURT, BREAD STREET, CHEAPSIDE.
1833.
Price Sixpence.
The object of THE SOCIETY for the PROMOTION of
PERMANENT and UNIVERSAL PEACE, is to print and
circulate Tracts, and to diffuse information tending to shen that
War is inconsistent mith the spirit of Christianity, and the true
interests of mankind ; and to point out the means best calculated
to maintain Permanent and Universal Peace, upon the basis of
Christian Principles. Its labours are not limited by Local
Attachments, nor circumscribed by Geographical Boundaries, but
eactend to the whole human race.
RoBERT MARSDEN, Esq. Chairman.
SAMUEL GURNEY, Esq. Treasurer.
REv. JAMEs HARGREAves, Honorary Home Secretary,
REv. THoMAs Wood, Honorary Foreign Secretary.
JoHN BEvans, Assistant Secretary and Collector.
*...* It is requested that all Communications may be forwarded to the
respective Officers of the PEACE SocIETY, directed to the DEPository,
Star Court, Bread Street, Cheapside, where Subscriptions are received;
and also at the Banking House of Messrs. Williams, Deacon, Labouchere,
Thornton, and Co. 20, Birchin Lane, Cornhill.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
TO PART II.
CHAP. III.
PAGE
ON THE DANGERs To wirich THE SocIETY was Exposed IN THE
ATTENDANCE of THEIR MEETINGs. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5
Friends attend their Meetings during the commotions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6
Some are threatened with death in consequence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ibid.
Two families are particularly tried . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7
Many others threatened, and wonderfully preserved. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ibid.
8
The conduct of their enemies changed . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * c e s e º C G & © tº º
Friends of other Meetings menaced . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ibid.
Evil designs prevented in other Meetings also . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ibid.
CHAP. IV.
ON THE TRIALs To which FRIENDs were Exposed For REFUSING To
conForM To THE CEREMONIEs of THE CHURCH of RomE ........ 10
A Friend made prisoner . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ibid.
They seek to convert, and threaten with death, an ancient Friend .... 11
His preservation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . e º e º e º e s e e º 'º e de ... ibid.
Hesitation of the Rebels and abandonment of their bloody design .... ibid.
A kinsman of the same also threatened.......................... iiid.
Instance of preservation . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e a ºn e º ſº e º e º e º s . . . . . . . . . . 13
Confession df a Servant Girl to her Mistress...................... 18
Friends' danger from their Servants ........... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19
Treachery of a Servant . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ibid.
Day fixed for a general massacre ............ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ibid.
Insurgents defeated. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20
CHAP. V.
PAGE
TESTIMONIEs of FRIENDS FROM drffer ENT PARTs, INCLUDING A NARRA-
TIVE of EvenTs AT BALLIT or E, AND A FEW PARTICULARS OF THE
BATTLEs of Ross AND ANTRIM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20
Narrative of events at Ballitore . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
Testimony of a Friend near Moate. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88
Battle of Ross ...... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ibid.
Friends preserved..... e e º 'º e º O ſº e º e º & © e º 'º we e º 'º . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84
Battle of Antrim . . . . .
A Friend's Family there in danger. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
The house entered by soldiers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37
The family protected . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ibid.
Their house saved from burning............ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38
e e º e º e º e º e s e e º & & © e s > * * w = e < e e e a s e e e º e s 35
Remarkable prayer .......................................... 39
Facts relating to the Moravians at Grace-hill .......... . . . . . . . . . . 40
Moravians preserved there ..
• G s ſº a e e . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41
preserved on the Continent . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 42
Peculiar trial of a Friend . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43
His interview with a General.................................. ibid.
Condescension of the General........... . . . . . . . . . .............. 44
THE
PRINCIPLES OF PEACE, &c.
PART II.
CHAP. III.
Of the Dangers to which the Society was exposed in the Attendance
of their Meetings.
THE events which have been noticed in the last Chapter, as far as
they relate to the Society of Friends, may be considered rather of a
domestic nature, concerning only two or three families. It may now,
therefore, be proper to say a few words as to the situation of its
members in the quarter where the Individual, so often alluded to,
resided, viz. in the county of Wexford, with respect to the perform-
ance of their religious duties. In this part of the country, notwith-
standing some of the members of the same Meeting were several miles
distant from each other, they did not suffer their perplexities at home
to interfere with the sacred duty of religious worship abroad, or to
prevent them from traversing the country, filled with armed men,
amidst dangers, if possible, still greater than those they had left, in
order that they might assemble together for this solemn purpose.
Consequently, in going to, and returning from, their meetings, they
had to encounter many difficulties, besides the struggle between their
faith and their natural fears, in leaving their houses and property
a prey perhaps to pillage, or to the flames, during their absence.
Human prudence, it is likely, would have induced them, in such an
awful extremity, to remain at home, and to look after their outward
affairs; but the sense of what they owed to their Maker, and to the
Society of which they were members, in many instances, over-
balanced these selfish considerations; and it appears, that in most
cases they left behind them a better guardian than human prudence.
Most of the horses being taken from them, the members of that
IX. — PART II. B
**
6
particular Meeting had frequently to walk to their place of worship.
The first time they did so, some of them met a man of very terrible
character, who had killed a neighbour, in Ferns, a day or two before.
He was, however, friendly in his behaviour to them, and even offered
to have them carried to their Meeting. But, though they acknow-
ledged his civility, they did not accept his offer, pursuing their
journey on foot six Irish miles.
Parties of these people often met with the Friends going to and
returning from their Meeting, and they were sometimes very inqui-
sitive to know whence they came, and whither they were going ; but
none of them offered any molestation, except at one time when
several Friends were passing to Meeting through Camolin, a village
not far from Ferns, with a horse belonging to one, and a jaunting-car
to another. A great number of United Men being in the street, and
conversing about the Society, one of them said, “it was the last
time the Quakers should ever go that road.” After the latter had
passed the crowd, a shot was fired apparently to alarm them. The
horse took fright and broke the traces, an inconvenience they reme-
died as well as they were able, and afterwards proceeded quietly to
their meeting-place. It was a remarkable circumstance that before
the next meeting-day came round in regular course, the power of
these misguided men was overthrown.
In other parts of the county of Wexford, some of the members of
the Society, having been observed by the United Men to persevere
in attending their place of religious worship, notwithstanding the
threats and opposition they experienced, became objects of this
party's displeasure, and were apprised, that, if they persisted, they
Ghould be taken to the Altar of a neighbouring Chapel, and suffer
the penalty of their obstinacy.
A large and respectable family of the Society, though they were
often threatened and advised by a priest and others to stay at home
for some time, or at least to go by some private way, did not feel
that it would be right for them to go to Meeting by any other than
the usual way, along the high road, through the town of Taghmon,
which was inhabited almost entirely by persons supposed to be
friendly to the United Irishmen, and therefore unfriendly to them.
Some of these were heard to say of the Friends, “They even dare
us by going through the streets, but they shall not go long;” and
7
they used many threats both by words and actions to intimidate the
family. The young women, who were delicately brought up, some-
times walked to and from the Meeting-place at Forrest, about four
Irish miles distant, without any male attendant, and experienced no
molestation, even in the very height of the commotions; their parents
from the infirmities of advanced age being unable to accompany
them. On one of these occasions, having been more than usually
threatened, they remarked that a strange dog, which they could not
recollect to have ever seen before, followed, or rather accompanied
them home, as an escort for some miles; and, on seeing them safe
to the house, which he could not be prevailed upon to enter, left
them. This might have been only an accidental occurrence, but it
engaged their attention at the time; and, though simple in itself,
may now prove nothing more than that their minds were not resting
upon human help.
Amongst the various menaces that were used to alarm the Society,
some of the United Irishmen spoke “ of converting the Quakers
y
Meeting-house at Forrest into a Romish Chapel;” and two boys
were heard to say that “they would burn the Quakers in their
place of worship the next meeting day.” A member of that Meeting
residing near, was also informed that the Meeting-house should be
burned ; and that he and his large family should be destroyed if he
attempted to go there again; and in order to intimidate him the
more, a blunderbuss was presented at him. Another Friend was
also told by a woman, that she heard several persons declare, on the
very day the Rebels were driven out of their camp near Ross, “that
the Quakers should never meet again at their Meeting-house in
Forrest.” Thus it appears that the same threat was held out to
many families.
It is worthy, however, of notice, that, notwithstanding individuals
and whole families were thus threatened, in different places, few were
deterred from the steady pursuit of what they considered to be the
path of religious duty ; and the fact is to be recorded, as a monu-
ment, not to their praise, but to the mercy of that Providence which
watches over the weakest of his children who trust in him, that all
the machinations and evil designs of their enemies, in this as in
other instances, were signally confounded ; for on the very morning
of the next Meeting-day at Forrest, when so many were to be
B 2
8
devoted to destruction, and their houses to the flames, the power of
the United Irishmen was overthrown by a decisive battle near
Vinegar-hill. Accordingly, about the time appointed for public
worship, when the Friends met together as usual, numbers of these
misguided people, who had been calculating on the possession of
power to effect their own cruel ends,-instead of carrying their
designs into execution, were actually assembled about the door and
windows of the Meeting-house, not as a building doomed with its
inmates to destruction, but as a place of safety to themselves ; and
they remained there till the meeting concluded, and the Friends had
withdrawn.
It is not to be supposed that Forrest was the only Meeting where
such circumstances occurred — of malignant threats appalling to
human nature on one side, and of unshaken firmness in the support
of religious testimonies on the other.—The members of Cooladine
and Enniscorthy Meetings, in the same county, were placed nearly
in the same predicament with those of Forrest. They were threat-
ened ; and though some of them had to lament the loss of their
property and the destruction even of their houses, in the indiscrimi-
nate devastation, yet the threats of personal violence to them were
found to be impotent, and their lives were providentially preserved.
The United Men told a Friend of Cooladime, that “if the Quakers
ever attempted to meet again in the Meeting-house there, it should
be burned.”
When the town of Enniscorthy was in possession of the Rebels,
the time of holding the Monthly Meeting there had arrived; and
different members of the particular Meetings composing it, except of
Ross, which was then in a state of siege, prepared to attend it. Some
came from Ferns, Cooladine, and Balanclay. Although their horses
were taken from some Friends on the road, by patroles from the
Rebel camp at Vinegar-hill, they were not themselves prevented
from pursuing their journey on foot many miles; and they entered
Enniscorthy, scarcely knowing whether they would be permitted to
go to their Meeting-house or not, and almost doubting whether they
should find it standing. They were, however, enabled to hold their
meeting for worship; but were much interrupted by persons walking
and making a noise in a loft or gallery adjoining, who, after a while,
went away. It appeared that these persons came with a malicious
9
design, but that they were prevented from carrying it into execution.
A large hole was observed to have been broken in the ceiling, which,
the Friends were told, was made for the purpose of setting the house
more readily on fire, but that others of the party interfered to
prevent it.
Soon after this Monthly Meeting of Enniscorthy, the Quarterly
Meeting for Leinster Province was to be held, in due course, in the
same town. As the time approached, it seemed almost impossible,
from the appearance of things, that it could be accomplished. Yet
many individuals, some from distant places, acting in faith and sim-
plicity of heart, left their homes to attend it, and the way was
gradually opened before them. The outward aspect of affairs at the
time was, indeed, changed : for the United Men had only recently
been defeated with great slaughter, and their camp was broken up.
Accordingly, several Friends had to pass through heaps of slain on
the road, and in some instances were obliged to remove the dead
bodies of the Rebels out of the way, that they might not trample on
them, to the wonder of the spectators; some of whom exclaimed—
“The Quakers must be mad.”
It may therefore be noticed, that in the neighbourhood of Cooladine
Meeting, the camp of Vinegar-hill, a mile distant, was broken up by
the battle which took place there the day before their week-day
meeting occurred ; and so, way seemed to be opened not only for
the attendance of that meeting, but of Leinster Quarterly Meeting at
Enniscorthy the day following.
At the latter, the members of the Society who attended, were com-
forted together, under an humbling sense of the providential care they
had so largely experienced; and, having held their meetings for
worship, as well as that for regulating the affairs of the Society, in
much quietness, they were favoured to return to their respective
habitations in safety.
CHAP. IV.
Of the Trials to which Friends were exposed for refusing to
conform to the Ceremonies of the Church of Rome.
A FRIEND of Enniscorthy Meeting, residing a few miles from that
town, was made prisoner at his own house, and taken by a number
of pikemen to the house of a neighbouring priest with whom he was
intimately acquainted. The priest told him, that he must become a
Roman Catholic, and be christened ; for that no other profession of
religion was now to be allowed. At this the Friend was greatly
surprised, and said, he had a better opinion of the priest than to
suppose he would force men to make a profession of religion in
opposition to their consciences. The priest replied, “there was no
alternative, either to become a Roman Catholic or to be put to
death.” The Friend remarked, that “by so doing, they would be
only making hypocrites of such as might be induced to comply :
and, for his part, that he would choose to suffer, rather than to
violate his conscience: that if there was any crime laid to his charge,
he was willing to be tried, and on that ground was not afraid to look
any of them in the face.” The priest, who had every thing ready
for baptizing, according to their mode, seemed much disappointed,
and brought him out to the pikemen to be taken to Vinegar-hill.
The Friend again expostulated with the priest and pikemen together,
urging that if there was anything worthy of death laid to his charge,
he was willing to undergo a trial. The pikemen, although they
seemed much displeased that he would not become a Roman Catholic,
acknowledged the justness of his proposal, and, in obedience to the
priest, conveyed him to their camp.
A few other Friends were also made prisoners, from different parts
of the county, and were taken to the camp at Vinegar-hill, where
they underwent a sort of trial : but, nothing being alleged against
them, they were set at liberty. Their liberation was not a little
remarkable, as many other persons were put to death, against whom
no charge of enmity was brought, nor any ground of accusation,
except that they were Protestants.
|
A Friend from Ulster, then on a religious service in that part of
the country, was taken prisoner and brought to the camp; and at
the time the Rebel army was performing the service of mass, as he
could not take any part in their form of worship, they suffered him
to remain standing alone, with his head covered, while they were on
their knees, during the ceremony.
Many were the instances in which, in some parts of the country,
a dark and persecuting spirit displayed itself during the rebellion.
An elderly Friend, the father of a large family, who was in a de-
clining state of health, and whose daughters used to go alone to their
meeting at Forrest, as mentioned in page 7, was one, who, from
the respectability of his character and his influence in the country,
was marked by the Insurgents and their leaders, as a desirable object
of their proselytism, in this reign of terror. For as they were de-
cidedly unwilling to take the lives of the Friends, their object was
to convert them, by intreaties or by menaces, to their faith.
In the case of this Friend, they laboured at it very assiduously;
for if, by any means his conversion could have been accomplished,
it is certain that they would have regarded it as a signal triumph.
He was urged and threatened: but when the attempt became hope-
less, one of the priests told some of the insurgents, after inquiring,
“ had they not killed him yet f * that “they could not go forward
until they had dispatched the old man.” One night, about twelve
o'clock, a number of them entered his house, and when they had
plundered it of what they wished, they snapped a pistol at him several
times, seeming to be determined to take his life. After some con-
deration, they then insisted upon his going with them to their main-
guard, which was stationed at a distance. He made an effort to go
with them, accompanied by one of his daughters; but, feeling much
weakness, and finding himself unable to proceed, he sat down under
a tree in his own lawn. After a pause, which they did not seem to
understand, they inquired “what he had to say?” His reply was,
that “should they be permitted to take his life, he hoped the Al-
mighty might be pleased to forgive them, and to take him in his
mercy.” Upon this they were silent, left him, and went quietly
away.
A kinsman of this Friend, living in the country not far from him,
and only a few miles from the noted Barn of Scullabogue, where a
} 2
number of Protestants, men, women, and children, were collected
from the neighbouring country, and burnt to death, had also a large
family which was exposed to much danger during the disturbances:
A member of this family (the eldest son), has supplied me with the
following authentic narrative of the events that occurred to himself
and his relatives during that awful visitation.
“After the removal of the rebels to Carrig-Burn, we were con-
stantly visited in the day-time by armed parties and individuals
(proceeding to join the camp) for refreshment; this we could not
avoid affording them, as far as lay in our power; it generally con-
sisted of bread and milk, or milk and water. Few of the strangers
behaved offensively, and several expressed themselves dissatisfied
with the hardships their present employment rendered them subject
to. Some of our neighbours, those who had been in habits of re-
ceiving little acts of kindness and assistance from us, were those
whose dispositions we afterwards found we had most cause to dread.
Our horses were about this time all taken from us, but I believe
none other of our stock. Our servants, male and female, also left
us, save one little faithful girl, who still lives in the family; but she
was at length compelled from her fears to leave us. Our visits in
the day-time were frequent, as I have noticed, but our nights were
generally pased in awful tranquillity. The morning of the day on
which the battle of Ross took place, with us was gloomy, and we
thought we heard an indistinct rumbling in the air, (the distance is
about seven miles,) but we did not then know that the attack on
that day was meditated. We had but few visitors, and all seemed
darkness and gloom with those we did see; but we at length became
in some degree acquainted with the state of things. In the morning
my father and I walked up to the corner of our farm, where from a
bank we saw the smoke of the Barn of Scullabogue, where the
horrid scene had been just acted; but we were not then aware of
this awful fact! A neighbour of ours, who was considered rather
of superior rank among the farmers, called at the house in the course
of the day, and made use of an odd expression, exemplifying the
general feelings of his party, namely—‘If these (meaning the rebels)
if these gain the day in Ross, we will dissect every Protestant in Ire-
(and.’ Providence was pleased to disappoint those cruel hopes and
merciless intentions. Rancorous feelings, however, heightened by
13
disappointment and defeat in this main object at Ross, now began to
evince themselves. A principal actor in those scenes was a man
named Kehoe, who went about our neighbourhood committing mur-
ders. He shot, at his own door, the foster-father of one of my
brothers, an inoffensive man, but a Protestant ; and also a poor old
man of the same persuasion, upwards of eighty years of age. He
also formed, as is presumed, similar intentions, as regarded the
whole of our family, the circumstances of which I shall, as nearly as
I can recollect, relate. y
“Some days after the battle of Ross, a party of men, armed, came
about noon to the back door of our house, of whom this man
appeared to be chief. They asked for some refreshment, and were
ushered into the kitchen, and sat down at a table, and some food was
set before them. A few minutes after another party, about the same
number (about eight persons), also armed, came to the front door,
and inquired if some of their men were not in the house, which
was replied to by my father in the affirmative. and they were
sent to join them in the kitchen, when they all sat down to the table,
or near it. We were all at this time in the parlour: my dear mother
seemed to feel an impulse on her mind to go out into the kitchen,
and requested my father to remain with the children in the parlour.
I went with her : she carried a stocking she was knitting, and we
placed ourselves with our backs to the fire-place, and immediately
facing the table where this party sat. After a few moments, when
they appeared to have finished their repast, they remained in a state
of sullen silence, when this Kehoe raised his eyes, and sternly fixed
them upon my mother. She instantly perceived it, and kept her
eyes firmly fixed on his, until he bent down his head as if con-
founded. A short pause of sullen silence again ensued among them;
I do not believe a word was uttered by any one; and they all, as by
one impulse, suddenly rose from their seats, went out, and went
away. In the mean time the girl I have noticed went out for some
turf for the fire, when she found a number of women in the out-
offices, who had ropes with them, and who inquired from her
anxiously— What are the men about 2—what are the men about 2'
We afterwards understood that these ropes were intended to assist
in carrying away the plunder, after our lives had been disposed of
by this party. We were not, however, at the moment aware of
14
this, their cruel intent, but soon after—I rather think it was the
evening of the same day—a poor man, who had lived with us since
my infancy (whose wife had nursed one or more of the children),
and who resided with his family on our farm as a cottager, came to
the house, and spoke privately to my father, and told him that mis-
chief was intended; that if he had any valuables, such as plate, &c.
that he could put away, that it would be advisable, which might
ultimately be of use to some of the family; and (if I mistake not), I
think he offered to secrete, under the protection of his family, some
of the younger children. These coming from such authority, and
with a knowledge of Kehoe's character, were awful intimations; and
trying, indeed, to the feelings of my dear parents, and those of us
who heard them. A consultation was held, and it appeared to my
dear mother's mind desirable that we should all withdraw at mid-
night from our dwelling, and proceed to Forrest Meeting-house,
where, as the next day was that of the week-day meeting, there was
a probability of seeing that venerable and worthy Friend (long since
deceased), Joseph Poole, whose advice might be rendered useful and
subservient to fixing a proper determination in such an awful crisis.
Such being my dear mother's feelings, we all willingly coincided, and
left the house on our pilgrimage, with all the family, about the hour
appointed—our servant girl had, from fear of what she had seen and
heard, deserted us. The night was starlight, serene, and beautiful,
tending to tranquillize our feelings under this dispensation of Provi-
dence. We proceeded quietly in our route, without meeting any
person along the public road, until we came within a short distance
of Taghmon, where the Rebels kept guard, when we took a short
cut across the fields, leaving it about a quarter of a mile to the
right. Just as we got in a direct line with it, a gun was fired in the
town, which gave us some alarm; but it did not appear that we
were the cause of it, and we passed on, and reached Forrest Meet-
ing-house in safety, where we opened the shutters, &c. of one of the
windows, entered the house, closed them again, and laid ourselves
down in the gallery to take some repose, and await with resignation
the results of the coming day. Early in the morning, the girl from
the neighbouring house, where the care-taker of the Meeting-house
lived, came to open the shutters, and, on perceiving persons sitting
in the gallery, was much alarmed, and ran away. However, my
15
father went down to the house, and explained the circumstance,
we all soon followed, and took some refreshment. Meeting was
held without interruption at the usual time, which our venerable
Friend alluded to, with his family and some others, attended. Our
case was disclosed to him, which was solemnly considered, and it
was concluded that, situated as matters were, and that the same pro-
tecting hand of the A lmighty was every where, it was wisest to put
our dependence in that Power, and return again to our home, and
await our fate with fortitude and resignation. We therefore, re-
turned, passing through Taghmon, met with no molestation, and
found all at our house quiet and undisturbed. In the evening, my
father received a friendly note from the priest of Taghmon, who
was a humane man, expressing his regret at hearing of the mischief
intended him by bad characters in our neighbourhood, and stating
that he had sent him a guard to protect his family and his house,
which he might retain if he thought proper. This guard was
chiefly composed of Protestants, who had conformed, and which, I
suppose, the priest thought would be most acceptable. My father
felt grateful for this act of humanity and friendship ; they remained
that night in the house, and I believe only that one, as my father
did not wish to interfere: but I doubt not, this conduct of the
priest being publicly known, tended to repress for a time the male-
volent intentions of those wicked men.
“After these occurrences, we enjoyed about a week of moderate
tranquillity; but about the end of that time, early one morning, be-
fore we were up, we were again visited by a hostile band, several of
whom were on horseback, some neighbours and some strangers.
They got admittance at the back door, where they kept guard ; and
four or five with pikes and fire-arms came up stairs where we were
in bed. Their pretence was alleged to be, that we had a person in
the house who was inimical to them. This was disavowed; but
they were directed to search by my father —they did so, but found
no one, as they were at first informed. They appeared most mali-
ciously angry, and one of them in going down stairs struck his pike
through the glass of the clock, and into the dial plate, the mark of
which is still visible; others of them stabbed some tin ware, and
other articles in the kitchen : and after this they all went away :
some cursing and swearing, and saying they could not conceive or
16
understand what prevented them doing what they came to do, or
words to the same effect :—it may not be improper for me here to
notice an observation that I heard my dear father make – ‘that he
had counted all the stabs given to the different articles by these
people (after their departure,) and found them to accord in number
exactly with the number of which our family consisted ''
“This was the last visitation of this nature which we experienced.
Their diabolical power was in a few days after annihilated, and good
order restored, under the constitutional authorities. The govern-
ment having at length made its military arrangements, the army
advanced towards this county in different directions. Sir John
Moore, with a brigade of thirteen light companies, and a party of
Hessians, advanced from Ross, and encamped at Longrage, about
three miles from us. We had notice of their approach to our neigh-
bourhood by the smoke of the burning of cottages, which marked
their route, and which is generally among the melancholy conco-
mitants of war. About noon the next day, they quitted their en-
campment, and were proceeding on their march towards Wexford,
when they were apprised, by the firing of their advanced guard of
Hessians in front, of the enemy being at hand, - Roche, the Rebel-
general, having advanced from near Wexford, with (it was said)
near thirty thousand men to this attack : the action commenced
between two and three o'clock P. M. and continued about three
hours. The firing of cannon and musketry was heavy ; and the
contest at times, from the shouts of the Rebels, appeared doubtful.
We could plainly see the smoke of the fire-arms from our windows,
and numbers of persons in retreat, during the whole time, crossing
our fields. Several called at the house for drink, some of whom
were wounded. It was a most awful moment for us, so near the
scene of action, in various shapes. Had any of the army observed
their opponents receiving refreshment from us at such a crisis, it
might have had serious consequences, if the motive were ever so
innocent and inoffensive. But the same Almighty hand that had so
eminently protected us in other instances, was not shortened in this ;
and we were suffered to remain tranquil and unmolested. During
the whole time of this calamity, some of our family regularly
attended our Meeting at Forrest, through Taghmon : which we did
without receiving any serious molestation. I believe a few instances
# 7
occurred in which my dear mother, from weakness, and my sisters,
did not attend. -
“After the close of the action of Fooksmill, in which several
hundreds were killed, the army encamped on part of the field of
battle, and the rebels retreated towards Wexford, where they were
followed the next day by Sir John Moore. This day was also fatal
to their cause at Vinegar-hill, from whence we heard the cannon re-
sounding soon after sun-rise. This combat closed their career in the
county of Wexford.
“It is a circumstance worthy of remark, that some of those persons
who had been so ill-disposed towards us before their defeat, actually
came and solicited leave to hide themselves, and some property in our
out-buildings, immediately after the battle of Fooksmill.”
A female Friend, being desired by a Roman Catholic clergyman to
put up the sign of the cross, which was worn by their party at that
time, replied, that “she could not do it, but hoped the Almighty
might be pleased to enable her to bear it.” On this he did not urge
her any farther.
An elderly Friend of some opulence, who came to reside in England
soon after the disturbances, with a constitution much debilitated
by the hardships and persecutions he had suffered during the re-
bellion, on two occasions had to experience signal preservation. —
His house, which was situated in rather a lonely part of the country,
was ransacked and stripped of every thing valuable by a party of the
Insurgents. Some hours after the depredation, another party entered
for the same purpose ; and the Captain, after demanding the pro-
perty, either discrediting the Friend's simple statement of what had
already occurred, or irritated at the disappointment, raised his sword
to murder the venerable man, when his wife, rising from her seat,
with much emotion and firmness exclaimed, “Thou canst not touch
a hair of my husbart's head, unless Divine Providence permit thee.”
The man was so st; ack by her Christian fortitude, that he let the
sword drop from his hand : and, stooping to pick it up without
uttering a word, he turned away quietly and withdrew his men.
On another occasion, several of the United Irishmen entered his
house and insisted that he should undergo the ceremony of Baptism
according to the form of the Romish Church. As he refused it, they
behaved very roughly, but left him, with the determination, as
18
they said, of coming again in a few days; and if he then refused,
that they would certainly hang him. According to their promise,
they came again, and endeavoured, by arguments and threats, to
prevail upon him to be baptized; but in vain. They then said, they
certainly would hang him; but some trifling matter occurring among
themselves, the execution of their design was deferred at that time
also, and they left him. In a few days they returned again, and he
was told that they had now resolved to hang him before they left the
house, if he did not agree to be baptized; and they actually fastened
a rope round his neck and took him to an out-house, where there was
a beam, and were in the act of tying him up to the beam, when an
alarm was given that a party of soldiers was coming, which made
them run away: so that his life was providentially saved.
A Friend living in a retired part of the county of Waterford, had a
large family of young children, and kept several servants. A little
before the battle of Ross, two of the nursery - maids, Roman
Catholics, left the house. This circumstance gave some alarm to
the family, which was, however, mitigated in degree by their return
after the battle, in which the United Irishmen were defeated. The
mistress interrogated the elder of the servants respecting their
reasons for thus leaving the family at a time and in a state of such
distress; and represented their ingratitude after having experienced
so many marks of kindness from their master and mistress, during
a period of some years' servitude. The girl acknowledged it all with
many tears; but added, “Mistress, if you knew all, you would not
condemn us.” Some days afterwards, her mistress spoke to her
again, and requested her to be more explicit, because she did not
understand what was meant by the words, “If you knew all,” &c.
And upon urging the subject in a very kind manner, the servant
burst into tears, and acknowledged that she and her fellow-servant
had been enjoined by an authority to which they were accustomed to
yield implicit obedience, “if the battle of Ross was favourable to
the Irish, to kill the young children :-and this,” said she, “we
could not do; you had been like tender and kind parents to us, and
the children we loved as our own ; and therefore we determined to
leave the house, never to return any more, if the battle should be
favourable to the Irish.”
Some idea may be formed of the dangers with which the members
19
of the Society were surrounded, when it is known, that with few ex-
ceptions, their domestic servants, being Roman Catholics, were in
secret league with the Insurgents, and daily anticipating the over-
throw of civil and religious power, as well as an entire change of
property in their own favour. Hence, there was every sordid
inducement, that could operate upon a dark and interested multitude,
to destroy all who stood in their way. For they were led, per-
versely enough, to think, that the destruction of one differing in
religious opinion, was the performance of a religious duty, or an act
pleasing in the sight of God, and would coincide with their temporal
interest. It is, however, to be noticed, that, in the South of Ireland,
a great number of the Roman Catholics, in the better classes of
society, were distinguished for their loyalty and good conduct:
whilst in the North, many who took an active part as leaders in the
sedition, were, by profession, Protestants.” It was chiefly a poli-
tical struggle in the North, and religious, more than political, in
the-South. Hence, the probability is, that, had both classes been
victorious against the lawful government, yet, with such distinct and
incompatible views, they would soon have turned their arms against
each other.
A servant maid, residing with a Friend in Enniscorthy, who had
been instrumental in bringing about the murder of the male part of
a Protestant family, with whom she had formerly lived, having
pointed out to some of the pikemen such windows in the Friend's
house, as she supposed they could fire from with most effect, upon
the King's troops, he said to her, “I did not think thou wouldst serve
me so.” Upon which she told her mistress, that their children
would be fatherless before that time to-morrow. Her threats, how-
ever, proved to be vain.
“At length,” says an eye-witness, who has recorded some of these
events, “the time approached when divine interposition was re-
markably conspicuous in this county; nearly three weeks the rage
of religious bigotry spread itself with fire and sword ; and from
every information I could learn, and from concurring circumstances,
it appeared, the day was fixed for a general massacre of every class
* Indeed some of the leaders in the South were Protestants, especially the
Insurgent General, who commanded at the battle of Ross: and it is supposed
that he was in some degree instrumental in restraining the cruelty of those
under him.
2
{)
who were not of the Romish Church. For, said they, often in my
hearing, ‘one religion only shall be allowed.’” º
“But on the eve before that day, the King's army invested
Vinegar-hill, and, early in the morning, a battle ensued, in which
the United Irishmen were totally defeated and routed. The King's
army pursued them to Wexford, got immediate possession of the
town, and rescued many of the poor victim Protestants from present
death, and all who were not yet made prisoners, from the horrible
massacre which was rapidly going forward.”
Some idea may be formed of the evils produced by contention, even
to those whose party may have got the ascendency, when it is known
that a considerable number of the Protestants, who had been taken
to the camp of the Rebels at Vinegar-hill as prisoners, were put to
death by the victorious army, through ignorance, or through want of
discrimination, in the heat of pursuit; as every one in a coloured coat
was supposed to belong to the Insurgents.
CHAP. V.
Testimonies of Friends from different parts, including a Narrative
of Events at Ballitore, and a few particulars of the Battles of
Ross and Antrim.
THE following interesting journal of the events that occurred in
the village of Ballitore, was kept by a Friend residing there, who, at
that time, had the care of a large establishment for the education of
youth, chiefly of the Society; and it will be seen that he endeavoured
to steer a course of humanity and benevolence, which qualified him
to interpose his good offices, with effect, on several occasions, for the
preservation of those, of both parties, who were in imminent danger
from their enemies.
* “On that morning, a standard, or black flag was carried through the
streets of Wexford, with M. W. S. in large letters inscribed thereon ; the
meaning supposed to be, MURDER witHouT SIN. The massacre of the Pro-
testant prisoners was executing at WExFord, and did not discontinue until
they (the pikemen) fled from the King’s army. It was said they were
wading in their blood up to their ankles on the bridge of Wexford.”
2 |
.*
“ 1798,-24th of 5th mo. 5th day, was the day of the general rise
of the people in the county of Kildare. The occasion of their rise
may be attributed to the following causes. For a long time back
the people of the country have shewn a disaffection to government,
particularly the Presbyterians in the north, and the Romanists,
almost universally. Against these latter the rulers seem particularly
exasperated, because, they said, that having granted them every
relaxation of the penal laws against Catholics, that could be conve-
niently allowed them, even to the endangering of the constitution,
yet they were dissatisfied : and it began to be suspected, that,
instead of a participation of rights with Protestants in this kingdom,
they wanted to subvert the constitution, and have all to themselves.
It was also thought, and found from facts, that they were actually in
league with the French, the avowed enemies to the constitution
established; and that they looked for an invasion from them, to rise
and join them, for the purpose of effecting their treasonable designs.
Government therefore determined on coercive measures, that, seeing
they could not be won over, they might be forced or frightened into
obedience. For this purpose, informers were employed amongst
them, who, many of them, betrayed innocent men, for whom they
entertained a pique or enmity ; houses were searched for unlawful
meetings, arms, and papers; those informed against were severely
whipped, and extorted confessions obtained : hence, a source of
distress, perfidy, and disaffection was opened ; the minds of men
exasperated against each other in the bitterest manner : hence,
jealousies, and cruel retaliations of injuries, private assassinations,
burning of houses, by each party ; the wine of resentment and
revenge intoxicating even men of the soundest heads and fairest
intentions. The soldiery, being harassed with incessant pursuit of
those wretches, thus excited by their cruelties to repeated acts of
outrage, were hardly restrained by their officers (when opportunity
offered) from destroying the people with indiscriminate slaughter.
“In order to effect their purposes of coercion, the government
had fallen on a gradation of punishment :—First, putting soldiers on
private houses, – Secondly, allowing them free quarters there, so
that many poor people left their beds to the soldiers and lay upon
straw, Thirdly, burning their houses, on intimation of disaffection,
or proof of concealed arms, – Fourthly, whipping, which was
IX. — PART II. C
22
conducted with such severity, that many said they would prefer to be
shot at once, than to be thus tormented to death ; and many were
actually taken out of their houses and put to immediate death.
“Things were in this state at the time of the date above men-
tioned : the government requiring the people to bring in concealed
arms to entitle them to protection; with which multitudes complied:
but still many were concealed; when the alarm came to Colin
Campbell, commanding in the county of Kildare, and stationed at
Athy, that on this day there would be a general rise.
“In the night of the 23d, an express arrived to Captain C —,
of the Suffolk fencibles, quartered at Ballitore, to be ready in a
moment's warning to be under march with his men and the militia
also under his command. Thus our very agreeable E C
left us, to be exposed to popular resentment, to which he was by no
means entitled, being possessed of the most gentle, conciliatory
dispositions; which led him often to deplore the situation he was
placed in, and that the plundering of the disaffected (which they
called foraging from them) should be acted under his directions.”
“ Large bodies of men now collected in different places, armed
with pikes and pitchforks, with a few swords, muskets, and
bayonets, some of which had been forced or stolen from the soldiery.
The Insurgents waylaid the troops, and in some places killed a few
of them; but became themselves at last the victims of slaughter :
which was the case when C arrived at Kilcullen.
“It were in vain, as it is unimportant, to describe the flying
engagements which took place in several places on this day. At
Narramore Wood, Lieut. Edie, of the Tyrone militia, had smartwork,
and was well nigh cut off by liers in wait : multitudes were slain
there by the Insurgents. The loyalists, who were in possession of
the Court-house at Narramore, took the captain of the Insurgents
prisoner; upon which the people set fire to all the houses there;
and the property of John Jeffers, a staunch man to the constitution,
was thereby destroyed : then they recovered the captain, and took
some prisoners. When they were dislodged from Narramore Wood,
* “Foraging parties were dispersed through the country; and a hundred
cars, laden with provisions (taken from the people) came one day into Bal-
litore. It was the scarce time of the year, and this proceeding caused
great distress.”
23
the Insurgents took the bog-road, and had an engagement with the
military on march on the high road, when several men were slain of
the country people. • gº
“In the evening the captain of the Insurgents collected his forces
of pikemen, &c. in the plain between Narramore and Ballitore, to
the number of 2 or 300, and marched them down to take possession
of Ballitore, which was this morning evacuated by the soldiers.
A. Shackleton, with his boys, from the top of Nine-tree Hill, was
witness to the awful procession ; not knowing to what lengths the
popular transport might carry an exasperated people. So, letting
them pass by, he led his little corps of infantry (the dear alarmed ,
boys) round by the back of the garden into the house; and about
five o'clock, the pikemen, with various descriptions of armour,
entered his parlour, and found him sitting with his family and the
dear boys in awful quiet. They behaved with respect, but asked
peremptorily for provisions, which we handed out to them, and they
retired. Our poor neighbours, fearing pillage of property, now
began to flock to our house ; so, as my school was small, we had
room to accommodate about 100 persons, men, women, and children,
who, day and night, collected up and down in our houses. The
school - house, a large room, was given up to them : so that,
what with the people, seeking an asylum, and the men under arms,
we had very little quiet, or scarcely any thing we could call our
OWIle p -
“Such were the important events of the 24th ; important to us
and our little community. Our minds were centered in divine depen-
dence. The canopy of preserving power was evident to my feeling
in this awful crisis.
“25th, Sixth-day morning. —Alarms often came of a military
force. Our horses were taken, to send expresses to explore the
movements of the army; our poor people being generally too feeble
to resist the shock, of military discipline ; though a few individuals
of them were undaunted and fierce, from the memory of past injuries,
or the expectation of future ones. Some of these latter entered my
house, about six o'clock, A. M. with pistols, to bring me out (as
they said); to fight with them ; asked me where was my pike ; they
saw no reason, they said, that I should indulge in quiet, while they
exposed themselves for the defence of my property, &c. &c.
C 2
24
“So they took me out, and two honest men with me, I. and
T. B. , then my guests, and said that we should stand in front of
the battle; if we would not fight we should stop a bullet. They
took us beyond the bridge, to the side of the road; our people
following us with their eyes and tender affection; several neighbours
and faithful Mary Doyle (an old nurse) coming after, interceding
for our return. They said that I could not be spared from home,
and from the care of so many of the poor, who had taken sanctuary
in my house; that, as to my fellow-prisoners, they ought to fight at
home ; it was unreasonable to expect them to fight our battles. I
told the men, that, as to myself, I felt quite undisturbed, and I had no
displeasure against them, who did it ignorantly ; that they might
put me to death, as I was in their hands - but they would never
persuade me to use any act of violence against my fellow-mem. At
length they were persuaded to liberate us.
“Now, they entertained the idea of whipping a man they called
an informer, whom they had taken prisoner, and made preparations
for it, on the principle of retaliation. After some persuasion, they
were induced to relinquish this idea, and declared that, though they
had received very grievous treatment, they ought not to return evil
jor evil. As I applauded this sentiment, I now began to have
some place in their minds. It was satisfactory to find that they
entertained no worse intent than obtaining redress to the grievances
they complained of, such as the whipping and plundering committed
on them by the military. As violence was likely to be inflicted on
the soldiers' wives left in the town, I got leave to take them under
my care; also George, a servant of Captain C , a sick soldier,
and another, who was servant to Lieut. Gore. The two young
women, also Anne Gore and Anne Hemet, the latter a Jersey woman,
wives to Gore and Hemet, lieutenants in the Suffolk Militia, shared
the hospitality and protection of our house. Thus were we variously
chequered ; people of all sides and all descriptions coming to us.
So that if provisions should hold out, our garrison was pretty well
manned. Various alarms came to-day:—it was suggested that cannon
were coming to destroy the house over our heads; the women fled
out of the windows into the garden ; and all was confusion and dis-
traction while the panic held. -
“My family mostly staid by me in the parlour: and supporting
25
quiet was witnessed, sufficient to allay the noise of the waves and
the tumults of the people.
“The wretched people were now grown tired of their attempt : .
their leader, Capt. , had deserted them.
“26th, Seventh day.—As I found a disposition in the people to
listen to terms, I took pains with my friends of peacemaking spirit,
to prevail on the people to send to the commanding officer to sue for
pardon. I drew up the following lines, which I proposed to the
, and the people, and they heartily acceded in general. I
told them it was no act of mine: I only proposed it to them : I
wished them to return to peace; but, whatever they did, they
must take on themselves all the consequences. The lines were as
follows:—
“The people of East Narra and Rheban, depending on Colonel
Campbell's lenity, offer unconditional submission. They acknow-
ledge they have been misled, and have perpetrated several acts
of outrage, resentment, and retaliation ; which they are sorry for.
They hope the severe measures used towards them will plead an
eaccuse, as they prefer to die at once, than to be tormented to
death. They hope the Colonel will now consider their case as
entitled for their voluntary obedience to Royal mercy and clemency.
They wish to return to their duty and to their lawful occupations
on the same footing they formerly were.
“These lines were also shewn to the person commanding in the
town; he seemed not to approve of them, but said to me, ‘Don’t
interfere.” However, they seemed to convey the voice of the
people, and, as such, were sent by an express. Afterwards, the
people seemed dissatisfied, unless some conditions were made for a
liberation of prisoners, and J. B. offered himself to go to
Athy with further explanation; but this was not allowed at the time.
proposed.
“The people said they would wait for the answer to the express.
Insolence, even in (the possession of) a very precarious power, operates
on the leaders in popular assemblies; and the poor people are still
miserable victims of their misguided measures. The express returned
with the following answer :
“Colonel Campbell conveyed to Mr. J–—-, of Ballitore, his
decision on this application of the deluded people of that place;
26
and if they will lay down their arms of every kind, in front of
the moat of Ardskull, this afternoon at six o'clock, and retire half
a mile in the rear of it, Colonel Campbell will send out a party
(as he proposed yesterday) to receive the arms, to prevent their
falling into the hands of the disaffected. It gives the Colonel much
pleasure to find, that the people have at last found out their error,
and that they have been imposed on by designing men ; and he will
not fail to recommend their case to his Excellency the Lord Lieu-
tenant, and he will, in the mean time, afford them every protection in
his power. Their compliance with this proposal will save much
blood, as they must now be convinced, from their late attacks on the
outposts, how impossible it is to make any impression on a nell-
disciplined army.
- “Colin CAMPBELL, -
“Colonel, commanding at Athy.
“Athy, 26th May, 1798.
“The yesterday's proposal, mentioned in the letter, was never
generally communicated to the people ; or it appears that, besides
their own caprice, they laboured under the curse of a deceitful
mediator. 2 * , - . . . .
“About six o'clock that evening, instead of the arms (as proposed)
the people concluded on sending an ambassador of peace : and J. B.,
consented to go on their behalf. About eleven o'clock J. B. returned
with the following lines from Colonel Campbell ;
“Colonel Campbell is disposed to treat with the deluded people of
the county of Kildare, a.º.d there shall be a fruce till twelve o'clock
to-morrow, provided six of the most respectable of their people are
sent here, on the return of friend J. B. to Ballitore, who shall be
kept as hostages for the performance of the proposals within stated:—
A return of the number in arms of the two Baronies who implore for-
giveness to be sent to Colonel Campbell to-morrow at eight in the
morning ; and this engagement will not be looked on as binding, iſ
they afterwards admit any of their disaffected neighbours into the
Baronies of East Narra and Rheban. w
l - • . “Colin CAMPRELL, Colonel.
“‘C. C.’s patroles with letters not to be intercepted.
“This, coming so late, could not well be communicated, to the
people, who were scattered every where. I took it to the priest,
27
who lodged in the town, and who appeared all the day of wavering
counsels, sometimes, before us, persuading the people to surrender,
and at other times, apart, haranguing them to opposite measures;
here was another mischief that attended the deluded people. Some
of the principal men I had got that day closeted ; they spoke
reasonably, and were inclinable for treaty, more or less, according to
their respective clearness of understanding.
“Whelan, a turbulent man, with a blunderbuss, greatly annoyed
our domestic councils. As I spoke to the people from an upper
window, to enforce the mild offers of government, I feared once that
he would discharge his mischievous engine at me. But Providence
preserved. Thus I am again tracing back the operations of the 26th
in order to account for the fatality, which, like a fiery comet, drew a
train of disastrous circumstances. These wavering counsels of
some, and the hot spirits of others of our demagogues, occasioned
that this last requisition came too late for the people to send in their
hostages; for, though it was possible to collect them, yet, who
could tell whether the people would, after all, comply with the
terms? and thus the hostages were at stake for the deception, and
the people would untimely perish. So it was concluded to send in
the hostages in the morning.
“The morning arrived, full of portentous calamity to this neigh-
bourhood. About three o’clock the priest called me up, and told
me, the army was certainly at hand. On the first intimation of it,
the people fled and dispersed on every hand; so that, if the hostages
were then in time, it would be hard to collect them, and still harder
to concentre the wavering resolutions of the people. The poor
priest appeared in great dismay. He requested to borrow my coat,
but, when I went for it, he was gone. He fled towards Narramore;
the lion was there; the thundering cannon had already been planted
that morning early against Narramore house, the new unfinished
mansion of Maurice Keatinge, which they (with the assistance of
fire) demolished; Carrol and some others, who had taken shelter
there, being either shot or dispersed. The priest now fled to
Ephraim Boakes,” and hid in the garden; but, thinking that place
* E. B. was an aged neighbour long since deceased, who had united his endeavours
with those of A. S. and his friends, first to moderate, and then to protect the mis-
guided people.—The army, which was approaching at this time, was from Carlow,
lying in a direction opposite to Athy, where Colonel Campbell commanded.
28
unsafe, he lay down in one of the clumps before Ephraim's door, and
there waited till the bitterness of death was past. But to return to
Ballitore: as the army from Carlow, consisting of horse and foot,
moved slowly down the hill, I proposed to J— B——, that he and
! should go forth to meet them; which we did, also the Phelps's and
Samuel Eves, then with us. The commanding officer, Major Dennis,
rode on to meet us with a pistol in his hand, and stopping near us,
asked, who commanded in the town He was answered by J
B , that ‘the town had been for these few days in the hands of
the Insurgents, but as to us,” said he, “we are only passengers.’—
‘It happened well for you, Gentlemen,” said he, “that it is so, or I
should have shot you every man.” (It appears that he had previously
given orders to shoot every man in coloured clothes.)
“I was no passenger, yet I did not then find it prudent to set him
right. He then desired that some beer or other refreshment should
be had for the soldiers. We shewed him the letter we had from
Colin Campbell, and got up Col.Wolseley, then a lodger in my house,
to speak to him; thus his wrath was averted. He desired the army
to halt: the officers rode up for drink, and they moved away.
“This woe past, the bitter cup of vengeance was handed from
another quarter. Col. Campbell, not finding the hostages sent as he
desired, marched his army in the night to patrole the country, and
came down from Narramore on us, about five or six o'clock, bring-
ing fire and desolation wherever they came. The houses were
generally burned, and many of the people shot, I suppose, almost
all who appeared, whether guilty or not of the crime of disaffection.
The officers came into our house and recognized their old friends,
while the soldiery were spreading terror among the people. Poor
Hannah Haughton they plundered: her innocency pleading in vain
for her. The soldiers had got information concerning the com-
mander of the town; he (simple man () met them in the street-and
was instantly put to death. The houses in the burrow were now
consumed; the inhabitants hid and escaped. My neighbour, who
had taken me prisoner two days before, now came on his knees to
me: he had just escaped death; pleading merit for having saved the
life of a soldier: by and by he and his wife came flying, and
seemed closely pursued; as it was said, the wife had wounded a
soldier, who attempted to take a ring from her and abuse her. I
29
4tº a
told her, she must hide somewhere else out of the house, or it might
be burned in their fury.
“In a few minutes this dreadful scene opened and closed: and
they passed on. It resembled the operation of lightning, fierce and
terrible, and over in a moment -
“Colonel Campbell.then led his army, clad in terrible array, round
by Crookstown, spreading death and destruction wherever they
came ; and so passed on to Athy : the ministration of vengeance
being let fall on devoted Ballitore and its neighbourhood, notwith-
standing that the most of the people, who were guilty of these out-
rages and of opposition to government, came from a distance. Thus,
having suffered the woe of rebellion first, we fell under the greater
woe of vindictive punishment. Here was an afflicting sight for the
poor people to behold—all their little stock reduced to ashes l—the
little provisions for their future wants; for, some of them had not
removed their goods; others, more wisely, had foreseen the threat-
ened calamity. Yet the survivors (so sweet is lifel) consoled them-
selves that they were alive, and now only sought about to find what
they could do to avert a repetition of the visit which might deprive
them of life.
“Ephraim Boakes and I undertook to treat for them, and we
went to Athy. When we arrived there, we were congratulated that
we were alive; they had been told that when the army withdrew,
the rebels had returned and burned every house which the army had
spared:—this we were able to contradict. Anne Gore and Anne
Hemet were particularly overjoyed to see me, and met me with hugs
and embraces; the polite Colonel Wolseley and his lady made
grateful acknowledgments for our care of them. My beloved
friend Dorcas Fitzgerald I was glad to see, and she me; also dear
T. and D. Chandley, and many more : — Affliction unites in one.
Col. Campbell received well our proffered treaty. It was concluded,
that he should come with a detachment of troops, to the high ground
on the road at Ardskull, on the 4th day following, at twelve o'clock;
that all persons, desirous of laying down their arms, should deposit
them on the gravel hill in Ballindrum bog, and retire to the road on
Ballindrum hill; that when the officer had taken up the arms, the
people should come forward in a body and sign an engagement for
future good conduct: Colonel Campbell should then immediately
30
recommend them to government: and the utmost possible lenity
should be used towards them : Two hostages should be sent to
Athy that day to confirm the good resolutions of the people. These
terms, after some conversation with the Colonel, in which he spoke
kindly and mildly, we carried home; and met the people at an hour
appointed for reading them. The people rejoiced at the very sound
of peace, and promised, that if any hereafter should conceal arms, or
attempt to destroy their loyalty, they would lend every aid to take
up such persons and bring them to justice. They were then sent
home to convince all their neighbours; for which the day following
was allowed; and they were desired to come on 4th day morning,
with their weapons of every kind, that Ephraim and I might conduct
them to the place appointed. With this they cheerfully complied.
We met the Colonel and his troops : the whole business was con-
ducted with good order; the people gratefully received the gracious
smiles and approbation of the Colonel; protections were given sepa-
rately to every respective townland; and the people came away as
after a triumphant victory. The insidious artifices of one man
(Mich. Walter) had like to have di concerted the whole plan : he
came riding post haste, as express, to tell the people, that, if they
staid there, they were all to be killed; and for this, he said, he had
orders from General Dundas; but his villainous artifice was de-
feated by the activity of Ephraim Boakes; the man was taken and
given up to the Colonel, who ordered him to be conducted to Athy.
“At the time the arms were given in, A. S. handed the following
address to Col. Campbell:
“‘Abraham Shackleton begs leave to address Colonel Campbell
on a subject that is of vast importance, as he conceives, to the
general weal—the preservation of the people. He has seen with
great anxiety, old distinctions of religious names revived. He
believes that there does not exist that dark spirit of persecution
among the people which is attributed to them, but a spirit of reta- *
liation, in many, for real or imagined injuries. It is said, that they
had formed a conspiracy for a general massacre: no such disposition
was apparent the two days that we of this town were entirely in
their power. Why did they not proceed then to a massacre P Why
did they not revenge the injuries they said they had received They
spared to whip one man, who, they said, was an informer ;—They
3 I
forbore to whip the soldiers' wives, when that cruel retaliation was
suggested by the women of the town:—They offered no injuries to
the officers' wives in my house, nor to the sick soldier and two
officers’ servants with me. A. S. believes that no such conspiracy
exists, and that it is conceived only in the fears of men of property,
who are alarmed at the thoughts of losing it. He believes that by
mild treatment the people may be made useful to us, and happy in
themselves. They have found the folly of resistance. They are
used to live low—facilem victu per secula gentem. Let them live,
and live comfortably;-they will not aspire higher; they will be
hands and feet to us. Indeed all orders and classes of society want
reformation.—If the money laid out in spacious buildings, cultivating
fine gardens, and pleasure grounds, were some of it expended in
cultivating the morals of the people, what a happy harvest of
blessings would it not produce to the cultivators If the rich did
not insult the poor by their wanton extravagance and riot, the two
orders of society would coalesce, and religious distinctions would not
be so much as thought of.’” -
From the foregoing narrative it appears that the pacific labours of
this worthy Friend and his associates were blessed in many instances.
An inmate and relative of his family thus expresses herself: “Neigh-
bours, rich and poor, and persons of all parties, a hundred in all,
sheltered peacefully together under my brother's roof. Some of
these were prisoners captured on their journey: one of their carriages
being drawn down and their luggage carried—all safely deposited,
persons and property, with my brother.”
“Col. Wolseley and his lady, the wives of two lieutenants, also
the wives of two privates, and a sick soldier, were in this way pro-
tected under his roof, whilst their enemies had possession of the
town. And when the place was given up to the fury of the soldiers,
to be pillaged and burnt, an officer, who had been at Ballitore
School, had placed centinels to protect the houses of Friends: the
house of one poor female they forgot, till it was too late to save her
little property from destruction.
“When I first saw our house filling with the Insurgents, soon after
they came in, I told them I was frightened at the sight of so many
armed men ; and, without shewing displeasure, they answered, “We
32
will be off in a shot,’ (meaning directly) and presently withdrew,
after they had got milk; and one of them cut the bread I brought
out, distributing it among them with the advice, “Be decent, boys,
be decent.’ I met with this man afterwards, as he stood a sentinel,
and threatened to shoot a man of his own party, who walked beside
me, if he passed the bounds. I asked him, if I went on, would he
shoot me? He expressed affectionate surprise at my asking such a
question, and pronounced a eulogium on Quakers. I told him it
would be well if they were all of our way of thinking; for then there
would be no such work as the present. His reply, incoherent as it
was, I could understand, “Aye, but you know—our Saviour—the
scourges—Oh! the scourges 1’’
“The Insurgents sometimes attempted to soothe our female fears,
shaking us by the hand, and declaring they would burn those that
would burn us. My mother, in her state of second childmood, was
respectfully treated by them; also, when the army came, a soldier
begged leave of his officers to visit “the old mistress:’—he had been
quartered on her. The Insurgents took our bridles and saddles,
but nothing else besides food. A man, with a naked sword, de-
manded from me my own riding mare; I told him, I had lent her to
one of the officers; and another vouching for my veracity, he was
satisfied and went away. Others applied for any thing of a green
colour. I told them we could not join any party.—‘What, not the
strongest ?”—“No, none at all.’ And though our tables were covered
with green cloths, they forbore to urge the request.”
In addition to this testimony, the author is credibly informed,
“ that A. S. and his colleagues in the work of peace, continued to
interpose their good offices afterwards, when judicial proceedings
were gleaning the refuse of the sword ; and had the satisfaction of
contributing to save many of their neighbours from death. A man
who was tried by a court martial, ascribed his acquittal to a note in
his favour from the sister of A. S. The officer who took it, glanced
at the signature, and exclaimed that women cared not what they
said; and then, observing the date, remarked, that it was from a
Quaker, and that Quakers never lie.”
3.3
A FRIEND of great respectability in the county of Westmeath,
living in a wild thinly inhabited district, not far from the town of
Moate, has given the following striking testimony from his own
observations at that period.—“All those in this quarter who pro-
fessed principles of peace, were marvellously spared from extreme
suffering; some living in solitary places surrounded by that class
who were very generally in a state of rebellion. Some, so circum-
stanced, could not leave their usual habitations, though strongly
urged by their few Protestant neighbours to flee with them to garrison
towns. O ! the heart rending scenes some such have witnessed ;
their neighbours, running hither and thither with their families and
goods, and calling upon me to flee from certain destruction 1 Yet
some were favoured with faith and patience to abide in their lots,
conscientiously adhering to the revealed law of their God; and thus
did experience, to their humbling admiration, the name of the Lord to
be a strong tower, in which they found safety. I could, with wonder,
love, and praise, relate some marvellous deliverances mercifully
vouchsafed to me when surrounded by numerous, and, at other
times, by smaller bodies of armed men in open rebellion, and when
no human being of any other description was near ; yet through
divine aid, and that alone, was I enabled to refuse to take up arms
or take their oaths, or join them, assigning as a reason that I could
not fight nor swear for or against them. They threatened—they
pondered—they debated,—marvelled, and ultimately liberated me,
though they said I was in the power of many thousands then
assembled.
“When travelling alone, I have sometimes seen such people armed
with pikes; we have looked seriously at each other, and passed with-
out speaking.”
BATTLE OF ROSS.
According to the testimony of a respectable inhabitant of Ross,
Friends of this town were placed in a different situation from some
others of their religious profession in other parts of the county of
Wexford; inasmuch as the town was occupied by a large military
force, and not at any period in the possession of the Insurgents, ex-
cept partially and at intervals during the day of the memorable battle
34
which continued with but little cessation for nearly the space of
twelve hours. For a considerable part of this time, it was matter
of awful uncertainty which party would ultimately prevail. But, at
the very juncture when the town was mostly abandoned by the King's
troops, who, from the violence and great length of the conflict,
together with the intense heat of the weather and other causes, had
become so fatigued and exhausted, as generally to give it up, and
to retire to the bridge, in order to secure their retreat into Munster,
the assailing multitude, composed of many thousands, were observed
to betake themselves to flight, without any apparent cause, either
then or since discovered. On being assured of this remarkable
circumstance, the King's troops were prevailed upon to return; and
they took possession of their former posts, under some degree of
astonishment at finding themselves left undisputed masters of the
town. General Johnson, who commanded, is reported to have said,
that the success of that day was to be referred to Providence, and
was not the work of man.
During this bloody conflict, in which it is stated from good
authority that upwards of 2000 persons were killed, the town was
set on fire in different quarters, and the flames spread with such un-
controlled fury, as to threaten a frightful devastation. Yet amidst
so many imminent and combined dangers, Friends were generally
preserved in a quiet and resigned state of dependence upón that
Almighty Power which could alone afford protection in such an
awful crisis. Protection was, indeed, wonderfully experienced, as
was foretold by several ministers of the Society, during their reli-
gious labours in the country, some years before this calamity took
place. One Friend, in particular was heard to declare in Gospel
authority, “that in a time of trial, which was approaching, if Friends
kept their places, many would be glad to take shelter under the
y
skirts of their garments.” This prediction was now literally ful-
filled : for, many respectable neighbours, on the evening of the
battle, apprehending themselves not so secure in their own houses
as in those of Friends, flocked, with their families, to the latter,
thinking the insurgents would probably return and make another
attack on the town in the night. Some of them, belonging to an
armed association, and clad in a military garb, readily acquiesced
with the proprietors' remonstrances, and assumed a dress of more
35
peaceable appearance. And there was reason to believe, that after
experiencing such an unexpected deliverance, their minds were made
sensible that the power or strength of man was at such a time of little
avail, and that Providence alone was able to protect and to rescue
from such imminent danger.
Many facts might be stated, to shew the impressions which the
people, or at least those who were apprehensive for their personal
safety, generally entertained, that the peaceable dress of the Society
would afford protection in these perilous times: the following
instance may be mentioned. -
In the house of a Friend, near Enniscorthy, there lodged a Pro-
testant Clergyman, a man of sober moral character, with his wife.
When he saw the danger approaching, he requested that the clothes
of a Friend might be given him, expecting that in such a dress he
might be preserved, or at least might be able to effect his escape.
But it was remarked to him that such a disguise could be of no ad-
vantage; and he hid himself in the garden, by the river side, where
he was found and murdered. -
BATTLE OF ANTRIM.
The town of Antrim was the only considerable place in the North,
during the year of the Rebellion, in which any members of the
Society were placed in serious difficulties, immediately between the
contending parties. One family, however, consisting of a very
young man, and his sisters, whose father was then engaged in a
religious visit in America, was preserved in a remarkable manner
during the conflict which took place in this town.
On the day of the battle, when it was announced that the Rebels
were approaching, few of the regular army being then in the place,
expresses were sent off in different quarters for assistance. A regi-
ment of cavalry arrived before the commencement of the engage-
ment, but was not able to make any effectual stand against the
force opposed to it. Orders were issued to the inhabitants to close
their doors and windows, and to remain in their houses. About one
o'clock in the day, the Rebels, marched into the town ; and their
appearance caused a general dismay, so that horror seemed to be
pictured in every countenance.
36
It was the design of this family to remain in their house, until
they discovered that the action had commenced, and that the Insur-
gents’ cannon was placed in the street directly opposite to their
door. As the house seemed to be in imminent danger, they thought
of taking refuge in the fields. This step would, however, have been
attended with great personal risk, and was happily prevented; for
the yard was so full of Rebels that the family could not well pass by
them: and after making an effort to escape, the females returned
into the house; but their brother was shut out amongst the crowd.
And, notwithstanding they were in the heat of action at the time,
they neither asked him to take up arms and join them, nor did they
offer him the least degree of violence. He afterwards got into the
stable, and endeavoured to secure himself by holding down the
latch with his hand till one of his sisters ventured out and brought
him into the house,_to their great joy, as they never expected to see
him again alive.
Immediately after they had given up the intention of going into
the fields, and were entering the house, a wounded Rebel came in
along with them and stayed with them the remaining time of the
engagement. Though they endeavoured to perform the duties of
humanity to a suffering fellow-creature, they felt their situation to
be full of difficulty as well as of danger on his account, not knowing
how soon his enemies might prevail, and find him under their pro-
tection. The Rebel, who was a respectable person, strove to en-
courage them by saying, they need not be at all alarmed, for that, he
was sure, as they were an inoffensive people, and did not meddle on
either side, they would not meet with any injury.
At this time the Rebels had gained possession of the town, having
obliged the regiment of Cavalry to retreat, after a very deadly
encounter, in which about one third of the regiment, in the short
space of a few minutes, was either killed or severely wounded; but
it was not long before a reinforcement of the Monaghan and Tip-
perary Militia entered the town ; and, seeing the Rebels beginning
to yield, they acted with great cruelty, neither distinguishing friends
nor enemies, but destroying every one who appeared in coloured
clothes. In a very short time they dispersed the Insurgents, and
retook the town.
Numbers, who were not in any way concerned, lost their lives;
37
for the soldiers showed pity to none : they fired into the houses of
the inhabitants, and killed many: those who took refuge in the
fields suffered severely.
When the firing had almost ceased, the family above noticed con-
cluded it would be much safer for the Rebel who had taken shelter
with them to try to make his escape: for the probability was, that
if he should be found in the house, at such a time, he would not only
suffer himself, but be the occasion of the family suffering also. He
made his escape accordingly, and was saved.
Not many minutes after, a number of soldiers came to the door,
knocked furiously at it, and demanded entrance immediately, in-
sisting that the family should all come forward and shew themselves,
in order that it might be known whether there were any strangers in
the house. The door was opened accordingly, and they were
immediately surrounded by a great number of soldiers. Their ap-
pearance was very frightful: they were just come from the heat of
the battle; their faces besmeared with gunpowder, and the expres-
sion of their countenances corresponding with the work of death in
which their hands had just been engaged. One of them said he
wanted to see if he appeared “Devil-enough-like :” he looked at
his face in the glass, and observed—“he thought he did appear
quite enough so.” They inquired, if all the individuals of the
family were present, and if any strangers were in the house. Some
of them were going up stairs to search: but an officer, who lived
near, told them, they should not make any search : “that the
Quakers were people that would not tell a lie—that their words
might be taken—and, therefore, if any strangers were in the house,
that they would not be denied.” Indeed, their manner was so kind
and civil as to excite the astonishment of the family : especially as
many others had experienced very different treatment.
They now brought into the house a poor wounded soldier, and
gave him into the care of the family. Part of his bowels had forced
their way out through a wound made by a musketball. Every pos-
sible attention was paid to him, and he was very thankful for it, but
died the next morning, after suffering great pain. Ö
The town presented an awful appearance after the battle : the
bodies of men and horses were lying in the blood-stained streets;
and the people were to be seen here and there saluting their
IX. — PART II, ID
38
neighbours—like those who survived a pestilence or an earthquake—
as if they were glad to see each other alive, after the recent calamity.
The same night nearly a troop of soldiers came to the door to let
the family know “they need not be at all alarmed; for that they
should be protected—that the soldiers would be riding through the
streets all night, and would take care they should not be molested.”
After this the inhabitants were kept in a state of constant alarm
for many days, not knowing when another attack might be made
upon the town; fresh orders were repeatedly given to close up their
doors and windows, and to prepare for another engagement. In the
meanwhile the army were racking many houses, and taking away
the property. They carried off the shop-goods of a Friend living
in a suspected quarter of the town, but did not hurt any of his family.
The young man, who, with his sisters, was so critically circum-
stanced, as is above related, interceded for his friend with the com-
manding officer; but the latter would not prevent the soldiers from
plundering, saying, “he is a Quaker, and will not fight; therefore
the men must be allowed to take his goods.” -
A brother of the same Friend living in a part of the town which
was not considered so rebellious, received no harm, aud suffered no
loss of property.
Owing to the bad character which that part of the town where
the young man and his sisters lived had obtained, orders were issued
that it should be burned. Some of the houses had already been
destroyed on the morning of the battle ; but it was now a fearful
thing to have the houses of a whole street condemned to pillage and
the flames; as many innocent persons would undoubtedly suffer,
and numbers would be left without a place of shelter. For, in this
calamitous period, the poor destitute wanderer, whether innocent or
guilty, who was deprived of a home, either by accident or design, .
was always an object of suspicion, and, if not in military attire, was
liable to be shot. - -
The commanding officer was riding up the street to give the
orders; and one of the young women of the family thought she
would venture through the crowd and speak to him : some of the
town's people had indeed kindly urged her to make the application.
She walked up to him accordingly, and with great simplicity
asked him, “If their house was to be burned :” he replied, “I have
39
received very bad treatment from the inhabitants of this quarter of
the town; but you shall not be disturbed. I will make them rack
the houses about your house, and save yours.” After this, without
their knowledge, a yeoman was sent to stand at their door, while the
destruction was going forward near them.
Notwithstanding the officer's commands, the army seemed dis-
posed, many times afterwards, to plunder their house ; but the
neighbours always interfered, saying, “they were inoffensive people,
not connected with any party, and that their father was in America.”
On one occasion the soldiers came for the express purpose of
racking the house, and had their weapons ready to break the
windows. But the neighbours, some of whom were yeomen, stepped
forward in their behalf, so that not even a shilling's worth was
taken from them, nor did any of the family receive the slightest per-
sonal injury. - º
The following remarkable circumstance deserves to be recorded
in relation to this family. It is given upon unquestionable autho-
rity:—
At the time their father, then in a weak state of health, was
preparing to leave Ireland, for the purpose of paying a religious
visit to America, a minister of the Society expressed himself in
prayer, at a Quarterly Meeting, to this effect: he said, “he was
led to appear in supplication on behalf of a dear brother who
was going to a distant country, he might say, as with his life in his
hands : that the Lord, he trusted, would be with him, and would
lay out his work day after day ; that he would be enabled to perform
acceptably what was designed for him to do, and would return to
his family and friends, with the reward of peace in his own bosom ;
experiencing Him who was his morning light to be his evening
song. But that in his absence the sword would be near his house,
and the dead bodies would be lying in the streets; and, at the time,
neither hurt nor harm would befall his family: for the Lord would
encamp about them, and preserve them, as in the hollow of his hand,
from the rage and fury of the enemy.”—These things were literally
accomplished.
40
In connexion with the battle of Antrim, it is peculiarly gratifying
to be enabled to communicate a few particulars relating to what
occurred at the Moravian settlement near it. The incident proves
that the same principles of conduct will lead to the same practical
effects, whether maintained by one Society of Christians or by
another; and the author is indebted for it to an intelligent female,
who resided for some time at Gracehill amongst the Moravians
themselves.
“You request me to inform you of what I know respecting the
Moravians, and their great objection to war, or any party work
whatever. This I can clearly do from a long residence among
them, during which time I never knew one of the members of their
Society summoned to sessions or any other court of law; which,
from their being so numerous, is rather a wonderful thing in unfor-
tunate Ireland. Their aim and wish is to live peaceably and indus-
triously under the existing government, not meddling with politics
or affairs of state; they having a much higher object in view—the
training of souls for the inheritance of glory.
“You may remember an anecdote I used to tell you of good old
Mr. Fredlezius (the minister) during the Rebellion of 1798, and a
few days before the battle of Antrim; when a party of ragged
United Irishmen came to Gracehill, and told him, that unless the
brethren joined them, they would burn the settlement and murder
the whole community, and said, that in a few weeks, all Ireland
would be theirs, as the French had landed to restore them to their
rights, and that unless they became of their party and took up arms,
they would not allow them an inch of ground in the island. But
poor dear old Fredlezius, who had not time to half-dress himself,
came out among them in his red night-cap ; and trusting that God
would soon deliver them out of the hands of such a mob, cooly
said, “Well, well, my friends, be peaceable, and when you be de
cock we be de chickens ; come into the inn and refresh yourselves.”
And, indeed, they did so, drinking all they could. They then went
to the shop, carried off all the green stuff and ribbons they could
get, and said they would come again soon for the final answer as to
what party they would join; and, if not theirs, they would reduce
the place to ashes, and murder the whole set. They did assuredly
come, not many days after ; they arrived in multitudes, and drew
41
up in front of the sisters' house, while the poor sisters had all as-
sembled in their prayer-hall to implore God to protect them; and
momentarily expecting those ruffians to break in on them. At this
conjuncture some dragoons galloped past with accounts to Ballymena,
that the rebels were beaten at Antrim, and would soon be annihilated.
This so terrified the ragged rabble that they took flight in all direc-
tions, leaving the good Moravians to bless and magnify that God who
had so providentially preserved them.”
[The Rev. C. Ignatius La Trobe, Secretary of the Moravian Missions, having
been applied to on behalf of the Peace Society for such further information respect-
ing the preservation of the Moravian settlements from military outrage with which
he might be acquainted, has obligingly made the following communication :-}
19, Bartlett's Buildings, April 8, 1828.
“DEAR SIR,-You have desired me to add some particulars to the account given
at p. 137* of your little work, by an “intelligent female,” who had resided some time
among the Moravians at Gracehill (their settlement in the north of Ireland), respect-
ing the manner in which they were preserved from harm in the rebellion of 1798.
Your correspondent justly describes them as giving the glory of their deliverance to
the mercy and power of God alone; and their and our hearts are filled with gratitude
whenever we call to mind the many proofs of His goodness, experienced during that
dreadful period.
“I would the more willingly comply with your request were I able to refer to the
Journals and Reports then sent to all our congregations in manuscript, but never
printed. They are, however, not now within my reach. You will, therefore, kindly
accept of the imperfect accounts my memory may enable me to furnish.
“The jury in Carrickfergus, having been required by the Government to give their
opinion as to the disposition of the inhabitants of that region, had stated, that the
Moravian Brethren at Gracehill might be considered as truly loyal subjects; which
was indeed the case, as they wished in this, as in all things, conscientiously to obey
the injunctions given in the word of God. -
“This declaration, of course, gave great umbrage to many leaders of the rebellion:
and it is said, that the destruction of Gracehill was determined upon in their councils.
I must observe that I am unable to quote dates, and you will excuse my mentioning
events as they occur to my mind. I have heard that when Mr. Fredlezius, the
warden, who was a man of a remarkably calm and unoffending character, heard of
the approach of the first party of rebels, he went out to meet them, and addressing
their captain, a man of ferocious appearance, said—“Do you come as friends, or as
enemies?” After some demur, the captain answered—“As friends to be sure; what
would you have us to be ' Mr. Fredlezius then held out his hand, which the captain
took, assuring him that they meant to do no mischief if they were only supplied with
victuals, arms, and ammunition. They were told, that they had been obliged to
deliver up all their fire-arms and gunpowder by the king's troops. The party then
entered the shop, took all the green ribband they could find, and, being supplied
with food and drink, marched off. -
* Of the second edition of this Work.
42
“Another party of several hundreds, worse in disposition than the former, paid
them a second visit, as described by your correspondent; from which they were de-
livered, as related by her.
“The destruction of Toome Bridge, over the river Bann, connecting the counties
Derry and Antrim, by the rebels themselves, prevented hundreds of those in Derry
from joining their comrades in Antrim, which the Brethren in Gracehill considered
a providential circumstance. As success declared itself in favour of either party alter-
mately, the friends of both were at a loss whither to fly for safety. To the surprise of
the Brethren, Gracehill became the general asylum. The leaders of both parties had
charged the inhabitants not to suffer any fugitives to enter their dwellings. When
they, therefore, arrived with their goods, on cars or in waggons, they had no place of
shelter, but either in sheds, or under cover of their vehicles, which filled the square.
Rebels and king's men lay close to each other in the same distress, and were both
treated with humanity by the inhabitants. It happened that some, flying along the
streets, threw their purses and money into the houses, and made sure of their being
restored by the unknown inmates. Such was the confidence of all in those honest
Christian people.
“Respecting our settlements on the Continent, I am at a still greater loss as to
dates, but the instances of God's preservation of our defenceless places and their
inhabitants, are numerous. The battle of Bautzen, in which the Russians and
Prussians were defeated by Bonaparte, might have ended in the destruction of our
settlement at Kleinwelcke, had it been otherwise decided. The French made it the
receptacle of the sick and wounded. Their subsequent invasion of Silesia brought
Gnadenberg into still greater danger. It was twice plundered; and on a represen-
tation being made to Bonaparte, he is said to have declared, that as the Moravian
brethren and he himself had one common end in view,-the establishment of general
peace throughout all the world,—they should not be molested. He ordered the
names of the four Silesian settlements to be written down, and promised them safety.
Gnadenberg was at that time exposed to great danger, from balls and shells flying
over, and entering the streets and houses. Herrnhut, in Upper Lusatia, was spared,
being the resort, by turns, of general staffs of both armies, by which, however, im-
mense expense was incurred. I will only relate one instance of their preservation
among many:—A party, above a thousand strong, of Russians or Poles, I forget
which, had encamped in the garden and premises behind the house of the Single
Sisters. They were excessively wild, and no kind treatment seemed to make much
impression upon them. Having threatened, as soon as it should grow dark, to seize
upon the house, and their officers declaring that they could not restrain their men,
the inhabitants were in the utmost state of consternation. Their only hope was in
God, to whom they had recourse in fervent prayer, trusting to His mercy. About
sunset an order arrived from the general, commanding the whole party to join the
main army near Zittau without a moment’s delay. Thus speedy deliverance was
wrought, and surely none could deny that the Lord had heard the prayers of his
children offered up in their deep distress.
“I have thus endeavoured, in some degree, to satisfy your wishes, and trust that
I have not made any mistatements.
“I am, Dear Sir,
“Your affectionate friend,
“C. I.G. LA TRobe.”
** To Mr. John Bevans.”
43
I shall conclude this chapter with an anecdote communicated to
me by a valuable friend, who felt himself placed in a situation,
which exposed him to a kind of trial, different, in many respects,
from what others had to experience, in support of the testimony
against War. It not only shews the delicacy of those religious
feelings which may arise in truly devoted minds, and the benefit of
yielding them faithful obedience, but may afford a useful lesson
to others to attend to the pointings of duty in themselves, even
when their nearest friends may not see things exactly in the same
light. We cannot doubt that this conscientious individual was far
from indulging a disposition to condemn any of his brethren who
might not have taken a similar view of the case. Yet a little reflection,
it is presumed, must point out to every one the reasonableness of his
religious scruples on the subject:-
“At the time when we were under the power of the military, and
the civil authorities suspended, the town of C was threatened,
or in expectation of being attacked. . On walking out one day, I
observed, posted up in various places, a printed order from the
General, in the following terms: “In case of alarm in the night
the inhabitants are required to place lights in the middle stories of
their houses. The most severe and instantaneous punishment will
be inflicted on such as neglect to comply with this order.” A cloud
of distress came over my mind on reading this notice. I knew that
the “Light in the windows’ was, that the soldiers might discern the
enemy and be able to fight; and ‘the most severe and instantaneous
punishment’ was a license to the soldiers to put all instantly to death,
where this order was not complied with. As I could not fight
myself, I found I dare not hold a light for another to fight for me.
This would be taking a more active part in a contest than I was easy
to do; and how to act was a nice and difficult point. I informed
Friends how I felt; but I found they did not all see alike, and few
thought themselves so restricted as I did. At length, after some days,
I felt inclined to go to the General myself; so, asking a friend to
accompany me, I went to him. He received us in a civil manner,
and patiently heard me whilst I told him, that as I could not fight
myself, I was not easy to hold a candle for another to do it for me.
I believe he perceived the distress of my mind, and the first thing
he said, was, ‘I think it is a pity you did not let me know your
44
uneasiness sooner.' He asked me, if I came on behalf of the Society
of Quakers in the town, or was it only the uneasiness of a few I
told him I did not come on behalf of the body at large. He said that
he had issued the order as consistent with his duty as commanding
officer, and having issued it, he could not well rescind it now ; but
said, if I would furnish him with the names of such Friends as were
uneasy to comply with the order, and where they lived, he would
endeavour to have them protected in case of alarm. I told him that
perhaps there were some, who could not say, till the time of trial
came, how far they might be easy to complyºnot, and then it would
be too late. Then, with much condescension and kindness, he de-
sired me to furnish him with the names of all the members of the
Society in the town; he would endeavour that they should not suffer
for non-compliance with his order. This I complied with: but the
town not being attacked, the General's kind intentions were not called
forth. It was, however, I thought, a memorable circumstance, that
a General, in the midst of commotion, should so patieatly listen to my
reasons for not complying with his order, and promise as far as he
could to protect us. As well as I can now remember, he went so far
as to say, he did not think he should have issued the order just as
he did, if he knew it would have given Friends so much uneasiness.”
END OF PART II.
R. CLAY, 1 RINTER, BREAD-SI RELT-H ILL.
Tract No. IX. Part III. of the Society for the Pro-
motion of Permanent and Universal Peace.
THE
PRINCIPLES OF PEACE
E X E M P L I FIE D
THE sociFTY OF FRIENDS IN IRELAND,
During the Rebellion of the Year 1798;
WITH
SOME PRELIMINARY AND CONCLUDING OBSERVATIONS.
—“Q-
BY
THOMAS HANCOCK, M. D.
— Q-
I N T H R. E. E. P. A. R. T. S.
PART III.
STEREOTYPE EDITION.
--> --...-a -., ----------------- *-*-* -"Tº"T^ TTT "
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Printed by R. Clay, Bread-Street-Hill;
AND SOLD BY
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AND ALL OTHER BOOKSELLERS ;
AND AT THE DEPository, STAR courT, BREAD STREET, CHEAPSIDE.
1833.
Price Sixpence.
The object of THE SOCIETY for the PROMOTION of
PERMANENT and UNIVERSAL PEACE, is to print and
circulate Tracts, and to diffuse information tending to shen that
War is inconsistent mith the spirit of Christianity, and the true
interests of mankind ; and to point out the means best calculated
to maintain Permanent and Universal Peace, upon the basis of
Christian Principles. Its labours are not limited by Local
Attachments, nor circumscribed by Geographical Boundaries, but
eaſtend to the nhole human race.
RoBERT MARSDEN, Esq. Chairman,
SAMUEL GURNEY, Esq. Treasurer.
Rev. JAMEs HARGREAves, Honorary Home Secretary.
REv. THoMAs Wood, Honorary Foreign Secretary.
John Bev ANs, Assistant Secretary and Collector.
*...* It is requested that all Communications may be forwarded to the
respective Officers of the PEACE Society, directed to the Depository,
Star Court, Bread Street, Cheapside, where Subscriptions are received;
and also at the Banking House of Messrs. Williams, Deacon, Labouchere,
Thornton, and Co. 20, Birchin Lane, Cornhill.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
TO PART III.
CHAP. VI.
PAGE
OF THE GENERAL PRESERVATION of THE SocIETY DURING THE
REBELLION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5
Preservation of the Society . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * * * * * * * g e º e a e º e º sº. ibid.
The case of a young man excepted . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 6
Peculiar circumstances of the young man's death . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Žbid.
Reflections on the event . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7
Facts of another description . . . . . . . . . . & © tº º e º sº e * * * * * * * tº e e º is e º a º Žbid.
Affecting narrative relating to two brothers, John and Samuel Jones... 8
Taken to Scullabogue . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
Instance of Samuel's patience . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ibid.
They are taken out to be shot. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © e e s & © tº e º e º e º e . . . . 10
John encouraged by his brother . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © tº ſº tº e º 'º e sº . . . . . . . . ibid.
Samuel's fortitude . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ibid.
Reflections on the practical effects of peaceable principles and conduct 11
Illustrations taken from the conduct of the American Indians towards
Friends. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
Unarmed Friends were preserved, while some, who were armed, suf-
fered. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • e 8 º' s sº a e e & ſº tº e º e º e º e e 13
Affecting anecdote of a female Friend . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ibid.
Her daughter's trust in Providence ... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . 14
State of Friends in 1688 compared . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15
Friends then preserved . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16
Instances recorded . . . . . . . . . . . tº tº tº & © & P tº dº sº e º a tº * @ tº e º º & e º 'º º e s tº gº º - 17
Assisted by their absent Friends .......... tº e º gº e º 'º gº e º is dº º sº tº e e s º º 19
Bombardment of Copenhagen . . . . . q tº e º a e º º ºs e e º º ºs e º e s tº e & & ſº ... - ibid.
Illustration from the conduct of Spanish smugglers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20
Testimony from Ramond's Travels in the Pyrennees . . . . . . . . . . . ... ibid.
IV CONTENTS.
CHAP. VII.
PAGIC
ON THE BROTHERLY CARE of THE SocIETY TowARDS ITS suffering
MEMBERs tº gº © e º e º ºs e er e o e 6 º' s e e s e a s e e s e º e º e o e s e º 'º e o u a s a e s & e 21
The Yearly Meeting in Dublin appoints a Committee to relieve its
suffering members . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22
Assistance is offered by Friends in England and America ... . . . . . . 23
The offer is gratefully acknowledged, but not accepted........... ... ibid.
Reflections on this brotherly care and sympathy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24
CHAP. VIII.
CoNCLUDING OBSERVATIONs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26
Practice of the early Christians . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37
THE
PRINCIPLES OF PEACE, &c,
PART III.
---
CHAP. VI.
Of the General Preservation of the Society during the Rebellion.
The Society of Friends is scattered over three Provinces in Ire-
land. In these, viz. Ulster, Leinster, and Munster, many of its
members were brought into immediate contact with one or both of
the hostile parties, in towns, villages, and retired country places.
Some, it must also be acknowledged, were living with little more
than an outward or formal profession of the principle against War,
held as one of its Christian tenets by the Society; in fact, they sub-
mitted to the opinion of their friends, and followed traditionally the
maxims of their education, without feeling such strong conviction of
the indispensable duty which this principle enjoined, as would have
made them willing to part with their liberty or property, much less
with their lives, rather than to violate such an important testimony.
In this great variety of circumstances and of perils to which they
were exposed, it is natural enough to inquire whether the Society
lost any of its members ? We are enabled to answer this question by
an authentic document, issued by the Yearly Meeting in Dublin,
which contains the following passage: “It is worthy of commemora-
tion, and cause of humble thankfulness to the Preserver of men,
that, amidst the carnage and destruction which frequently prevailed
in some parts, and, notwithstanding the jeopardy in which some
Friends stood every hour, and, that they had frequently to pass
through violent and enraged men, in going to and returning from our
religious meetings (which with very few exceptions, were constantly
kept up), that the lives of the members of our Society were so sig-
nally preserved.”
NO. IX. PART III, B
6
And in the same document, an extract is given from the Epistle
from the Yearly Meeting held in Dublin in 1801, addressed to the
Yearly Meeting in Philadelphia, which states that “It was cause of
grateful acknowledgment to the God and Father of all our mercies,
that, in retrospection to that gloomy season, when, in some places,
Friends did not know but that every day would be their last, seeing
and hearing of so many of their neighbours being put to death,
that no member of our Society fell a sacrifice in that way but one
3young man.”
That an exception should thus be made of one young man, in the
accidents or allotments of a Society composed of some thousands, is
in itself a remarkable occurrence : and every one must be curious to
know under what circumstances the death of this individual took
place.
There are some cases in which an apparent exception confirms the
law: and we are much mistaken, if, in this particular instance, the
very exception will not be found to establish the principle, so far
from weakening its practical force.
His name, as well as the place where this individual suffered, are
well known; but it would not be consistent with the object of this
narrative to publish them to the world. As the names of those, who
might be entitled to a little commendation, in so far as they acted in
obedience to their principles, are generally concealed, it is the more
necessary to shield from public notice the memory of one, whose
untimely death, following, as it did, his deviation from these prin-
ciples, formed so notable an exception.
This young man, apprehending that his life was in danger, and
that he could find no protection but by outward means of defence,
took up the resolution accordingly to put on a military uniform, and
to associate with armed men. He told his connexions, that they
would all be murdered if they remained in such a defenceless state
in the country; and, taking with him some papers of consequence, he
fled to a neighbouring garrison-town. But it so happened that the
very town” he chose as a place of refuge, was attacked and taken by
the Insurgents; and, from the most credible information that can be
collected, it appears that, when the contest was over, and he was
wantonly firing out of a window upon them, the door of the house
* Situated in the county of Kildare.
7
was forced open by the enraged enemy; and in terror of his life, he
sought to conceal himself in an upper chamber, where he was soon
discovered, and. put to death. It has been stated, I know not
whether on sufficient authority, that he was marked, some time
before, for his inconsistency and party spirit, by those whom, in
consequence of his decided opposition, he had thus made his
enemies; and, that he was formally threatened, if he persisted in
such rash conduct, that he should lose his life.
Pitiable young man l—How little did he know what was for his
real good He left his home and the wise instructions of his parents;
thinking they would afford no protection in this time of peril. He
calculated upon a short-sighted policy, as it proved ; though he
followed the usual maxims of the world;—and what was the result
The means he took for his preservation proved his ruin. The
dress and arms in which he was accoutred, were his greatest enemies:
they spoke the language of hostility, and invited it. The power in
which he trusted failed him as in a moment. On the other hand,
the relations he abandoned were saved : their peaceful principles
were to them as a tower and shield; and their solitary home, though
unfurnished with outward defences, proved in the end a place of
safety.
It scarcely perhaps deserves to be mentioned, but the fact appears
to have a remote affinity to the immediate subject, and may afford
some instruction,-that a member of the Society, who, under the
influence of an improper curiosity, looked out of a window, during,
or just after, an engagement, was shot at and wounded in the chest,
but that he recovered. -
On the other hand, the preservation of some, who seemed to be in
more immediate danger, was remarkable : Two Friends, who had
been travelling, and were entering the town of Kilcullen, just as a
battle was commencing, stood in the open street during the engage-
ment; and, though they ran a risk of being shot by the sentinel, on
entering the town, as well as by the contending parties, in the heat of
action, were happily preserved.
At Baltiboys, in the county of Wicklow, an elderly person was
killed during the Rebellion, who had been a short time before dis-
united for inconsistency in his conduct, and had meddled imprudently
in political matters.
At 2
8
The following affecting narrative contains a few particulars relative
to two brothers, named John and Samuel Jones, who were put to
death by the Insurgents, on the day of the burning of Scullabogue-
barn, in the lawn near it.
Although the event it records may not at first sight appear to have
any proper connexion with the subject of this publication, and even,
to some, to militate against the principles advocated in it; yet it is
considered that a closer view will point out the application : and, as
truth is sacred and ought not to be disguised, the insertion of the fact
may serve at least to take away presumption from those, who might be
induced to look for preservation, as the necessary effect of peaceable
conduct. No such impression as the last is meant to be conveyed.
Samuel Jones, the younger of the two, had attended the meetings
of Friends, and was considered to make no other profession of
religion. Their father, having married out of the Society, lost
his membership in consequence; and Samuel, though feeling an
attachment to it, had never applied for admission. But if uncon-
querable faith and fortitude in the hour of extremity, could entitle
any one to the name of martyr, his name and the circumstances of
his death deserve to be recorded, as affording an instructive example
of Christian heroism; and he might have been justly regarded as a
worthy associate of any Christian community. They lived at Kil-
braney, near Old Ross, in the county of Wexford.
Samuel was of a meek and tender spirit, and remarked for the
benevolence of his disposition. At one period he had applied himself
closely to the perusal of Fox's Martyrology, and other religious
books; thus fortifying his mind, as it were, against the day of trial.
As the preparations for the impending conflict were going forward,
he became very thoughtful, apprehending that some serious calamity
would befall him from the Insurgents. About a month before the
lamentable event took place, he told his wife that he did not expect
to die upon his bed : and on one occasion, having, with her, accom-
panied some young women to their place of abode, who were gay
and lively, he remarked, with much seriousness, “How little do these
poor creatures know what is before them l’” The last time he
attended the Meeting at Forrest, it appeared as if he considered it to
be a final parting with his friends.
Shortly after this, as the troubles increased, and danger became
{j
more imminent, he was urged by his Protestant neighbours to fly
for refuge to the adjacent garrison-town of New Ross : but he and his
wife thought it right to remain at their own residence.
He was taken prisoner, soon after, with his elder brother John, and
conveyed to the mansion of F. King, of Scullabogue, his wife accom-
panying them. John lamented his situation and former manner of
life, signifying that he was ill prepared to die; but Samuel encou-
raged him by repeating the declaration of our Saviour, “He that
findeth his life shall lose it, and he that loseth his life for my sake
shall find it.”
The house where they were imprisoned was close to the noted
barn, in which, within a few days after they were taken, a number
f their fellow-creatures were horribly burnt to death.* Like many
others confined there, they had little to eat; and his wife, having
procured a loaf of bread, brought it to him : but being more inclined
to sleep than to eat, he placed it under his head, intending to reserve
it till he awoke ; and whilst he slept, it was conveyed away. When
he awoke, and his wife was lamenting the loss of it at such a time of
need, he patiently answered her, “God who has permitted the food
to be taken away, can likewise take away hunger.” But afterwards,
as he was walking about the room, his foot struck against a plate of
potatoes, which lay concealed under some clothes, and, though cold,
to them they were delicious. A New Testament, which they had
with them, afforded them much comfort. On the morning of the
day when the barn was set on fire—which was also the day of the
battle of Ross, – as they were reading in the New Testament,
Samuel's wife inquired of one of their guards the cause of the
peculiar smell, like burning animal matter, which she perceived
He told her it proceeded from some beef steaks they were preparing
* The following fact is supposed to indicate that the massacre of the Protestants at
Scullabogue, to the number of two hundred and upwards, by burning some in the
barn, and shooting others in the lawn, was not the effect of a sudden impulse, but of a
preconcerted plan, to which even some of the Protestant generals of the rebels were not
privy: two days before the massacre, a member of the Society, of Scar, whose son was
either taken, or went with the United Irishmen, to their camp, apprehending that he
had influence with one of their generals, B. B. Harvey (himself a Protestant) to get off
his son, repaired to Scullabogue and spoke to the General. But the power of the
latter being in some things merely nominal, he directed him to go to the priest, whose
name was Roche, saying “He could do nothing for him.” Not being satisfied to do
so, the Friend returned home. But whilst he was waiting for the General, he saw the
two brothers Jones in the house; and as he was attempting to go into the room where
they were confined, he was pulled suddenly back by a man named Fitzhenry, who
told him, that “if he went info that room, he would never come out alive.”
I0
for breakfast! To a further inquiry she made, “what was meant by
the firing of guns P’’ he replied, “Tis some criminals we are shooting.”
“And will they shoot us?” said the poor woman. “Oh may be
they will spare you till the last,” was his answer.
In about five minutes after this, the three were taken out.
The Rebel officer who commanded there, had been reminded by
Samuel of their having been school-fellows; and the latter had
given him his watch and money to keep for him : it is even stated
that the officer slept in the same bed with him part of the previous
night. Having proposed to Samuel that he should conform and
turn to the Roman Catholic profession, he replied, “Where shall I
turn, but where my God is P” And, when he was urged to have his
children sprinkled, he said, “My children are innocent, and l will
leave them so.”
When the two brothers, with Samuel's wife, were brought out to
the lawn in front of the dwelling-house where they were imprisoned,
to be put to death, some person said, “They were Quakers.” It
was replied, that “if they could make it appear they were Quakers,
they should not be killed.” As they were not in reality members of
the Society, this was not attempted to be done. Those who had
them in custody then took Samuel aside, and on certain conditions
offered him his life; but, whatever was the nature of these conditions,
he firmly rejected them; and when the holy water, as they termed it,
was brought to them, he turned his back upon it.
The Insurgents then shot his elder brother, whom he very much
encouraged, fearing his steadfastness might give way—for John had
shown a disposition to turn Roman Catholic if it might be the means
of saving Samuel’s life; but the latter encouraged his brother to
faithfulness, expressing the words of our blessed Saviour, “They
that deny me before men, them will I also deny before my Father
who is in heaven;” and he again revived the 39th verse of the same
chapter in his remembrance. See Matthew, chap. x.
Samuel then desired his love to be given to different Friends,
whom he named,—some of the Rebels, at the same time, with a
view to depress his spirits, telling him, that these Friends had been
made prisoners before he was, and shot at the camp at the Three
Rocks. This communication had partially the effect they intended;
he meekly replied, “They died innocent.” He then took an
I I
affectionate farewell of his wife, who, with admirable fortitude, stood
between the two brothers, holding a hand of each, when they were
shot; and his last words were reported to be those expressions
of our Lord and Saviour, which he repeated for the third time
in the hearing of his murderers, “He that findeth his life shall
lose it, and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it.” It was
cause of mournful reflection to his friends that he was fired at three
times before his death took place. He was an innocent young man,
much beloved by his neighbours. -
It seemed as if his wife would have shared the same fate, had not
the officer who commanded interposed in her favour. She was per-
mitted to convey their bodies to their former dwelling on a car; but
not being able at that time to procure coffins for them, she buried
them in the garden. On the death of their aged father, which took
place in the following month, and was probably hastened by the un-
timely death of his two only sons, the bodies of the three were taken
to the burying-ground of the Friends at Forrest, and there interred
about seven weeks after.
When similar events occur under nearly similar circumstances, in
different ages, and in different countries, we are in the habit of
referring them, and mostly with good reason, to the influence and
operation of some common principles. We judge that, whatever
difference may exist between the customs and prejudices of one age
and country and those of another, these customs and prejudices have
not the power to counterbalance the practical weight and authority of
the principles in question. But if we find that these principles
influence the conduct of our fellow-creatures, even when they are
living in a state of uncultivated nature, we must be persuaded, that
whatever motives operate so powerfully, in rude and civilized society,
must be built upon some enduring foundation, which times and
seasons cannot alter. If, besides this, we discover that, in their
direct effect, these principles lead to the welfare and happiness of
man, the conclusion is irresistible, that they are not of mere tempo-
rary use, but of universal obligation; and that it is the duty of every
Individual, as well as of political bodies, to conform to them, and
thus to make them the rule of public and private conduct. Now
such, it may be safely alleged, are the blessed effects of the principles
12
of Peace, when, in a right spirit, they are acted upon and obeyed,—
and such their influence upon mankind, without restriction to heathens
or Christians, to individuals or nations. For whatever individual
manifestly declares and proves himself a lover and maker of Peace, is
enabled to live comparatively at peace, and is respected: and whatever
nation holds up the same standard, and conforms to the same rule,
taking no undue advantage, but acting in good faith towards others,
will never fail to impress the world with esteem and admiration, and
to hold mankind in awe by its very virtues. This is neither a new
nor hypothetical ground of reasoning; it is confirmed by what is
called profane, as well as by sacred history. &
The preceding reflections have arisen upon comparing the state of
the Society of Friends, both at the time of the first settlement in
Pennsylvania and afterwards, and the exceptions that occurred in the
latter case, with the circumstances and the exception which are stated
above to have taken place in Ireland.
It is well known that the peaceful founder of Pennsylvania esta-
blished himself securely in that country, at a time when the name
of a European was almost hateful to the Aborigines, on account of
the perfidy and cruelty which the former had manifested. No other
reason for the opposite treatment he received, could be assigned but
this, that he adopted a different line of policy. By his peaceable
attitude he disarmed their violence; and by his sincerity he gained
their esteem. His towns, without either garrison or fortress, were
protected; at least, were free from assault. And peace was main-
tained, not only with the Indian neighbours, but with the more
dangerous Europeans, as long as the councils of Pennsylvania were
directed by peaceable men. When at last this State assumed a war-
like character, it was assailed like the rest, and experienced the cala-
mities of war.
It appears also, that, during the conflict between the Anglo-Ame-
ricans and the Indian natives, so long as the members of the Society
remained unarmed, they escaped without injury; but when they took
up arms, or fled to garrison-towns for protection, and happened to
fall in the way of the Indians, they lost their lives.
When arms were seen in the hands of those, who were looked upon
as men of Peace, they excited the distrust of the warlike Indian. The
weapon of defence (it might only be named) to him who bore it, was
13
an object of offence to him who saw it; because it conveyed the
notion of hostility, and carried the idea of a spirit capable of revenge.
When this appeared, the character of the peaceful Christian was
lost, and with it one of the best defences with which a human being
Could be guarded.
A Friend, named Thomas Chalkley, who was travelling in New
England in the year 1704, informs us, that “About this time the
Indians were very barbarous in the destruction of the English
inhabitants, scalping some, and knocking out the brains of others,
men, women, and children, by which the country was greatly alarmed
both by night and day; but the great Lord of all was pleased won-
derfully to preserve our Friends, especially those who kept faithful to
their peaceable principle, according to the doctrine of Christ in the
Holy Scriptures, as recorded in his excellent sermon, which he
preached on the mount.”
Among the many hundreds that were slain, he heard but of three
Friends being killed : and, according to the information he received,
their destruction was very remarkable : the one was a woman, the
other two were men.
“The men,” he informs us, “used to go to labour without any
weapons, and trusted to the Almighty, and depended on his provi-
dence to protect them (it being their principle not to use weapons
of war to offend others, or defend themselves;) but a spirit of distrust
taking place in their minds, they took weapons of war to defend
themselves; and the Indians, who had seen them several times
without them, and let them alone, saying, ‘They were peaceable
men, and hurt nobody, therefore they would not hurt them,'—now
seeing them have guns, and supposing they designed to kill the
Indians, they therefore shot the men dead.
“The woman had remained in her habitation, and could not be
free to go to a fortified place for preservation—neither she, her son,
nor daughter—nor to take thither the little ones; but the poor
woman after some time began to let in a slavish fear, and did advise
her children to go with her to a fort not far from their dwelling.
Her daughter being one that trusted in the name of the Lord, the
mighty tower to which the righteous flee and find safety, could not
consent to go with her.”
The daughter testifies concerning her mother, that the latter did
14
not feel herself easy at the garrison; but “often said to many, that
she felt herself in a beclouded condition, and more shut from counsel
than ever she had been since she knew the truth;”—“ and being
uneasy she went to move to a friend's house that lived in the
neighbourhood; and as she was moving, the bloody cruel Indians
lay by the way and killed her ſ”
As to the young woman herself, her husband at first treated her
impression, that it was right to remain quietly in their habitation, as
a mere conceit, the offspring of delusion, and he urged her strongly to
go to the garrison, but she told him “ he must never ask her to move
again, for she durst not do it.” It seems that she had already been
prevailed upon to move to another house a little nearer the garrison ;
but had felt condemnation in her mind for that step. Her husband
still urged that it was a notion, (meaning a delusive impression,) till
a Friend came, “who satisfied him so well, that he never asked her
more to go, but was very well contented to stay all the wars; and
then,” she adds, “things were made more easy, and we saw abund-
ance of the wonderful works, and of the mighty power of the Lord,
in keeping and preserving us, when the Indians were at our doors and
windows, and at other times.”
The Indians said, “They had no quarrel with the Quakers, for
they were a quiet peaceable people, and hurt nobody, and that
therefore none should hurt them.”
And although about this time the Indians shot many people as
they rode along the highway, and murdered many in their beds,
Friends travelled the country without injury. “The people gene.
rally rode and went to their worship armed, but Friends went to
their meetings without either sword or gun, having their trust
and confidence in God.” See Journal of Thomas Chalkley,
chap. ii.
This is the testimony of an individual worthy of the fullest
credit, as to matters of fact, which occurred more than a century
ago.
Thomas Story informs us, that “a young man, a Friend, and a
tanner by trade, going from the town to his work, with a gun in his
hand, and another with him, without any, the Indians shot him who
had the gun, but hurt not the other ; and when they knew the young
man they had killed was a Friend, they seemed to be sorry for it;
I 5
but blamed him for carrying a gun; for they knew the Quakers
“would not fight, nor do them any harm ; and, therefore, by carrying
a gun, they took him for an enemy.”
If we go back to the early history of the Society of Friends in
Ireland, we shall find that they were spread over the country in
considerable numbers at the time of the Revolution in 1688. The
difficulties and distresses, in which Friends were involved at that
period, were much greater and more extensive, than in the last
Rebellion. We possess, indeed, few documents from which we
can draw a fair comparison. But, so far as authentic information
reaches, it appears, that, by keeping true to their peaceable prin-
ciples, the members of the Society, who lived in districts a prey to
violence and depredation, were often made instrumental in saving the
lives of their neighbours, having generally found favour with the
Government, and conducting themselves without offence to the
people.
Considering also their numbers, and the manner in which they
were exposed, by attending duly their religious meetings, their
lives were signally preserved.
William Edmunstone, a valuable Friend, residing in the Queen's
County, who had been a soldier himself, and kept a Journal of
some of the transactions of that period, has left the following im-
portant testimony :—
“The Earl of Tyrconnel, then Lord Deputy of Ireland, armed
the Irish, and disarmed most of the English, so that great fear came
upon the Protestants : most of the great leading men, and many
others, left their places and substance, and went for England, others
of them got into garrisons, and those that staid in their dwellings lay
open to spoil. An open war soon broke out, and abundance of the
Irish (who went in bands, but were not of the army) called Rap-
parees (or Tories) plundered and spoiled many of the English
Protestants; also many of the army, that were under command in
troops and companies, were very abusive, being countenanced by
their officers.”— . . . . . . W. E. concluded that these abuses were
“a contrivance to alarm and affright all the English, to make them
run for England.”
* Clarkson's Life of Penn, vol. ii.
| 6
On several occasions he exerted himself with good effect, by
applying personally to the Government for the relief of his friends
and neighbours. “I was often,” he says, “at Dublin, and used
what interest I had gotten with the Government for the public
good. And as the Irish army were marching to the North against
the Protestants there in arms, I was much concerned with some
friends in Dublin, to use all our interest with the chief officers, to
spare and be kind to our Friends in the North, for they were not
in arms; and many of them promised they would, and performed
their promises.”
“Now calamity increased; the Rapparees, on one hand, plun-
dered and spoiled many of the English ; and, on the other hand, the
army marching and quartering, took what they pleased from us:
our families were their servants, to make what we had ready
for them; and it looked like sudden famine, there was such great
destruction.
“In those times H was much in Dublin, applying to the
Government in behalf of the country, for the Lord had given
Friends favour with the Government ; and they would hear my
complaint, and gave forth several orders to magistrates and officers
of the army, to suppress Rapparees, and restrain their abuses;
and they stood a little in awe of me, for they knew I had an
interest with the Government.”
“Now was wickedness let loose and got an head, so that, by
violence and cruelty, most of our Protestant neighbours were forced
from their dwellings, and several families came to my house, until
every room was full ; also most of their cattle, that were left, they
brought to my land, thinking themselves and goods safer there
than elsewhere. Now were we under great exercise and danger,
not only of losing our goods, but our lives.
“At the Boyne fight, the Irish army being beaten, ..many of
them fled our road, and plundered many in our parts; they plun-
dered my house several times over . . . . . . . . The English army
did not come near us for some time, and, to look outwardly, we
were exposed to the wills of cruel blood-thirsty men.
“When the English and Scotch came into those parts, they
plundered the Irish . . . . . . . Frequently, when the English
soldiers took away the Irish people's cattle, I persuaded them
17
to give some of them again, or bought them for a small matter
with my own money, and gave them to the owners; also let their
horses graze on my land, to save them from the plunderers.”
When the English army went into winter quarters, the Rapparees
increased in number and violence; and notwithstanding the services
W. E. had often rendered them, one night they set fire to his house
and took him and his two sons to murder them. But they were
providentially preserved, though W. E. had to endure severe hard-
ship and imprisonment afterwards, which nearly cost him his life.*
Many other Friends suffered the loss of their property, and their
lives were also endangered: of whom further particulars may be seen
in Rutty’s History of the Society in Ireland. The following cases may
be interesting to the reader :
“At the town of Cavan (a place that lay open to both the armies
and to the cruelty of the rabble), several Friends kept their places
and dwellings, and held their usual meetings; and though some-
times, in skirmishes between the two armies, many were slain, yet
Friends' lives were wonderfully preserved, though in their outward
substance they were spoiled and stripped, and at last commanded by
the chief officer of the Irish army to depart, and their houses were
burnt.”
“Near Edenderry, (an open place much exposed to the Rapparees)
Friends were greatly spoiled in their flocks and outward substance,
but their lives were wonderfully preserved, though the bloody Rappa-
rees broke in upon the town one night, and burnt part of it, and
killed some of the inhabitants.”
At Moate Granoge, six miles from Athlone, the latter of which
was then a chief Irish garrison, and a noted place of refuge, to
which the Rapparees, after scouring the country, carried their spoils,
“John Clibborn kept his place long in much danger, as did most
Friends of that meeting, which they still kept up with great difficulty.
While J. C. could possibly keep his house, it was open to all, and a
succour to many, both Friends and others; and in times of great
skirmishes and slaughter, he did not flee till at length most hardly
used, plundered, and quite spoiled in his outward substance.” He
was threatened with death and his house was burnt.
* Sir Wm. Edmunstone's Journal, Sections xi. and xii.
18
“Mountmellick and Montrath, two country unwalled towns, by
reason of their bordering upon the bogs and mountains, often had
great store of the ravenous Rapparees haunting them; and being
places of little or no defence, Friends that dwelt in them sustained a
large share of the many hardships of the calamitous times, and were
greatly exercised under a concern both for their families and neigh-
bours, still keeping up their meetings with an eye to the Lord, who
did not leave nor forsake his people in their many trials, but
wonderfully provided for them ; so that it is to be admired how
their little stock for their families held out, considering how their
houses were filled with people; and many alarms came from the
Irish, threatening to destroy those places, and kill all the Eng-
lish.”
“Gershon Boat, dwelling at Borrisaleagh, remote from Friends,
and ten miles from any meeting, in a place of some strength, suffered
many hardships, and escaped many dangers, both at home and on
the road going to meetings; his house being often set upon by the
Irish, both of the army and Tories; but he was wonderfully delivered
out of their hands; and many English families, both priests and
others, were succoured there, and helped on their way, who had
been much spoiled and stripped in the Irish quarters where they
dwelt.”
After enumerating these and other instances of the kind, the
author of the History remarks,—“These particulars may show the
eminent providential hand of the Lord over Friends, and his care and
kindness to preserve them in the midst of such great perils; and many
more might be instanced: and though in those times many of the
English neighbours fell by the hands of those bloody murderers, yet
we know but of four that we could own to be of our Society in all
the nation that fell by the hands of cruelty, and two of them too for-
wardly ventured their lives when they were lost.”
“And it is remarkable that Friends' meetings were preserved peace-
able, and that they kept their meetings according to the usual manner
for the worship of God, as well as for church discipline, without much
disturbance from either party ; though many times Friends went to
them in great perils by reason of the Rapparees, who in many places
waylaid people to rob and murder them.”
After these trials, which lasted nearly three years, were over, in
I9
the year 1692, it was computed that the losses of Friends throughout
the nation amounted in the whole to 100,000l. To many of the
sufferers relief had been afforded by their sympathizing brethren in
Ireland ; and Friends in London signified their readiness to assist
them. But it appears, that as at first the several provinces were
able to help one another, the friendly offer was declined, with
suitable acknowledgments: afterwards, however, they accepted of
their distant friends’ benevolence, to the amount of nearly 2000l.
Even from Friends in Barbadoes the sum of 1002. was sent for
the relief of Friends in Ireland, on this occasion. Thus were the
members of the Society, wherever scattered, nearly united in
sympathy and affection.*
BOMBAix DMENT GF COPENHAGEN.
The following anecdote is related by an eye witness, a lieutenant
in the navy. There is reason to believe, that the person of whom
it is related was not a member of the Society of Friends, though he
might be of the same principle with them on the subject of war.
This does not detract from, but gives additional force to the fact
related of him.
“At the last siege of Copenhagen, being then a young midshipman
on board his Majesty's ship Valiant, I was particularly impressed
with an object that I saw three or four days after the terrific
bombardment of that devoted place. For several nights previous
to the surrender of Copenhagen, the darkness of the night was
ushered in with a tremendous roar of guns and mortars, accom-
panied by the whizzing of those destructive and burning engines of
warfare, Congreve's rockets. The dreadful effects of this destruc-
tive warfare were made visible by the brilliant lights in the city.
Soon did the blazing houses, and the burning cottages of the
labouring poor, illuminate the heavens. The wide-spreading flames,
* See History of the Rise and Progress of the People called Quakers
in Ireland, from the Year 1653 to 1750, by Thomas Wight and John
Rutty, ch. ii.
*
20
reflected on the water, showed a forest of ships, all assembled
round the city for its destruction. When the bombardment had
commenced, and every woman and child fled from the destructive
shell, shot, and rocket, and from the burning and falling houses, a
little child was seen running across the street for shelter, it knew
not where; when a rocket, flying through the street, killed in its
way, the poor innocent. Oh, Britain, queen of nations ! mother of
such manly sons ! are these thy works —After several of these
horrific nights, the Dames gave up their arsenal, and all it contained,
to the English. Some days after, walking among the ruins, con-
sisting of the cottages of the poor, houses of the rich, manufactories,
lofty steeples, humble meeting-houses; — in the midst of this broad
field of desolation stood one house—all around it was a burnt mass
—this stood alone untouched by the fire—a monument of mercy,
‘Whose house is that 2' I asked. ‘That,” said the interpreter,
“belongs to, and is occupied by a member of the Society of
Friends : he would not leave the house ; but remained in prayer
with his family during the bombardment.' Surely, thought I, the
‘hairs of thy head were numbered.” “He has been a shield to
thee in battle ;’ ‘a wall of fire round thee;’ a bright and shining
witness of that care our Lord and Saviour has over those who follow
peace. ‘Blessed are the peace-makers, for they shall be called the
children of God.' 'Tis the example of the Prince of Peace; and all
who follow him need not, and will not, fear the puny arm of man.
It will be well with the righteous in those times.
“ LIEUT. J. W. H. HANDLEY.”
The following extract from Raymond's Travels in the Pyrennees,
contains some reflections that are worthy of being added to this
chapter.
Speaking of the Spanish smugglers, he says, “ These smugglers
are as adroit as they are determined, are familiarized at all times
with peril, and march in the very face of death; their first move-
ment is a never-failing shot, and certainly would be a subject of
dread to most travellers; for where are they to be dreaded more
than in deserts, where crime has nothing to witness it, and the feeble
21
mo assistance : As for myself, alone and unarmed, I have met them
without anxiety, and have accompanied them without fear. We
have little to apprehend from men whom we inspire with no distrust
nor envy, and every thing to expect in those from whom we claim
only what is due from man to man. The laws of nature still exist
for those who have long shaken off the laws of civil government.
At war with society, they are sometimes at peace with their fellows.
The assassin has been my guide in the defiles of the boundaries of
Italy; the smuggler of the Pyrennees has received me with a welcome
in his secret paths.
“Armed, I should have been the enemy of both ; unarmed they
have alike respected me. In such expectation, I have long since
Maid aside all menacing apparatus whatever. Arms may, indeed,
be employed against the wild beast, but no one should forget that
they are no defence against the traitor; that they irritate the
wicked, and intimidate the simple : lastly, that the man of peace,
among mankind, has a much more sacred defence—his character.”
When such feelings as these arise in the breast of a man, who,
simply from outward observation, is led to view human nature as a
compound of good and evil, that may be conciliated by kindness,
and aggrieved by the contrary : how strong, in the eyes of the
Christian, must be the sanction of principles derived from the spirit
of his holy religion, whose direct object it is to cherish such bene-
volent dispositions, as would, if men would suffer themselves to be
influenced by them, lead to universal peace and harmony in the
world.
CHAP. VII.
OF THE BROTHERLY CARE OF THE SOCIETY TOWARDS ITS SUFFERING
MEMBERS.
IT has already been stated, that on the first appearance of the
civil feuds which ushered in the rebellion of 1798, even so early as
the year 1795, the Society of Friends exercised a consistent care in
advising its members to destroy their arms, that they might on all
hands keep themselves free from the stain of blood. We have now
IX. — PART III. C
22
to record the fact of their brotherly sympathy being extended in
deeds of active benevolence towards those families and individuals,
who, by reason of their severe losses, were so reduced as to stand in
need of their friends' assistance. The proofs of a wise Christian
economy are no less manifest in the latter case than in the former.
A committee of the Yearly Meeting, held in Dublin, was very
early appointed to take the circumstances of their suffering brethren
into consideration; for many, who had been blessed with comfortable
homes and means of supporting their families, were left almost desti-
tute; and this committee recommended a voluntary subscription to be
raised by the different monthly meetings for their relief.
The following is an extract from the Report of this committee
presented to the Yearly Meeting in 1799. It will be seen that they
scrupled conscientiously to seek redress for their losses by the usual
legal means: t
“We apprehend it proper to inform the Yearly Meeting, that
shortly after our appointment, divers members of our Religious
Society having suffered loss and damage in their substance, in
various ways, by the commotions which were in this nation, we
came to the judgment, that it would be inconsistent for any of our
members in most, if not in all, cases, to seek for, or to receive com-
pensation from government, or other legal redress by presentment:
and we having received account, that in different parts divers
Friends had suffered so materially as to stand in need of assistance,
recommended to the different monthly meetings to set forward a
liberal subscription to afford some relief to those Friends. In
consequence whereof the sum of 3847 l. 11s. 9%d. has been sub-
scribed and received ; and a number of suffering cases having been
laid before us, we have adjudged the sum of 2217 l. 7s. 23d. for
their relief ; their losses appearing to amount to upwards of 7500l.
exclusive of many cases not yet disposed of, or returned; and there
remains a 'fund of 1630l. 4s. 7d. still to be applied for this purpose.
We have also received account of the losses of sundry Friends to a
considerable amount, whose circumstances did not make it necessary
for them to need any relief at present.”
The memorial issued by the said Yearly Meeting in 1810, relative
to this event, proceeds to state:—
“The said committee further reported to the Yearly Meeting in
23
1800, viz. “We have attended to the cases of those Friends who
have suffered in the late commotions, and believe suitable assistance
has been afforded to such ; and that there are not now likely to be
any further cases transmitted to the committee. The amount dis-
tributed to those who appeared to stand in need thereof is 28521.
15s, 10% d. and the balance remaining in the treasurer's hands being
994l. 15s. 11d. we have come to the judgment that it be returned to
the different monthly meetings, in proportion to the sums sent up by
them; and that it ought to be returned, in like proportion, to the
Friends subscribing the same.’”
The document of 1810 further states, that “The Yearly Meeting
in London in 1799, being dipped into sympathy with Friends in
Ireland, cordially offered their assistance, if further exigencies
should require.
“Neither did distance of place prevent our brethren in a distant
land from desiring to contribute to the necessities of their Friends
in distress: for, by the following extract from the Epistle from the
Yearly Meeting held in Philadelphia in the 4th month, 1799, it
appears that the same spirit of brotherly affection and sympathy
prevailed in the hearts of Friends there.
“‘We retain in affectionate remembrance the sympathy of Friends
in your nation, and the generous relief you afforded to our
brethren who were much stripped of their property by the war in
this country some years since : and we are thankful in feeling a
degree of the same brotherly love, by which we are made one in
the Lord, wherever dispersed, or situated : desiring if, at this time,
or in consequence of future trials, brethren among you should be
reduced to similar circumstances, we may receive information and be
permitted to follow your benevolent example.’”
This affectionate proposal was gratefully acknowledged by the
Yearly Meeting in Dublin in 1801, in its Epistle to the Yearly
Meeting in Philadelphia, in these terms: “Your Epistle given forth
in 1799, addressed to Friends in Ireland we received; which feel-
ingly carried with it genuine marks of strong affection, and near
sympathy with us, under the trials, which Friends in this land,
previous thereto, and about that time, laboured under.
“It is cause of humble thankfulness that the dispensation was
not of a very long continuance, though many Friends suffered
C 2
24
deeply in their propery while the conflict continued: and it was much
more severe in some parts of the nation than others.
“A considerable sum was raised, which, under the direction and
management of a National Committee, was administered to the
relief of the sufferers in such proportion, as, from the accounts
transmitted of their loss and circumstances, they appeared to re-
quire. When these wants were supplied, there was a redundancy,
which was directed to be returned to the subscribers; so that we do
not at present stand in need of making any further use of your
brotherly intimation of affording assistance, than that of expressing
a grateful sense thereof.”
Without question, it must afford a pleasing reflection to every
humane mind, that a Religious Society, conformably to the analogy
of the outward body, should, in this way, suffer and sympathize in
the sufferings of all its members ; and, though dispersed over a
nation, should constitute, as it were, but a single family, bound
together by common interests.
Viewed abstractedly as the effect of a benevolent Christian
economy, practised in a particular Society, the fact must also be a
source of gratification, that strangers, even in distant countries,
should offer their kind assistance to those in need. For, we are
told that the Friends in England, and even in America, requested
permission to send their contributions, should they be required.
But, contemplating the fact, as if the same principles of conduct
might be made applicable to the whole Christian community, how
consoling and animating would be the prospect of all the members of
the Christian Church, however scattered, and however divided, by
minute shades of opinion, being brought to unite in the bond of Peace,
in a common desire to do each other good, to obey the same rule, and
to adopt in their practice the same principles |
It would require no great stretch of faith to believe, that conduct
like this would lead them to a union which no earthly power could
shake, and that Jews, Mahometans, and Pagans, would bow down
with reverence to the spirit of Christianity, and surrender their
might before the excellency of such a peaceful dominion. Because,
these, constituting part of the human family, and therefore objects
of this Catholic benevolence, would receive from their Christian
neighbours such lessons of peace and good-will, as would imbue
25
them with kind dispositions, and take away all evil intentions from
their minds.
It could not injure any, whatever might be their opinions with
regard to the necessity of War, to study with deep attention the
moral effect of this Christian spirit of universal charity; which has
thus a tendency to unite together nations, kindreds, and people, as
children of one parent, and servants of one Lord, “thinking no
evil,” “forbearing one another,” “loving one another,” “preferring
one another,” “seeking the good of all;”—and to compare it with
the opposite spirit, which is ever busy in discovering faults, in
awakening evil surmisings, in sowing the seeds of contention, and
setting man at variance with man, in kindling the flame of War, and
promoting the misery, demoralization, and destruction of the human
race. How can we conceive it possible that these opposite dispost-
tions should ever be brought to coincide in the perfect character—
the true disciple of Jesus Christ
Is it possible that the same individual can be actuated at the
same time by the maxims and principles of Peace, and the
maxims and principles of War P But if these are incompatible,
and War could be tolerated under the Christian code; then
the maxims and principles of Peace might be dispensed with
under the same code. Where shall we find the authority for
thus stripping off the distinguishing badge of the Christian, that he
may be fitted for the field of battle P There is no such authority:
it is opposed by every rule and maxim: by every law and prin-
ciple, in the New Testament. Consequently, the maxims and
principles of Peace cannot, under any circumstances, be dispensed
with ; and warlike habits and dispositions are entirely incompatible
with the meek and forgiving spirit of Christianity. The rule of
expediency, as it is called, may promise much : and men may em-
ploy their sophistry in attempting to reconcile the two characters.
But calculations of present advantage, can never be admitted to
form a part of the motives by which a Christian should be go-
verned ; nor will he, who, in simplicity of heart, wishes to follow
the example of a meek and forgiving Saviour, with faithful obedience
to his laws, and humble confidence in his divine protection, ever be
justified in forsaking the direct and straight-forward course of
integrity, to preserve life or property, for the serpentine mazes of a
26
wily policy, by which he might bring himself to think that he could
secure these transitory blessings.
CHAP. VIII.
CONCLUDING OBSERVATIONS.
SoME observations naturally present themselves to the mind on
reading the foregoing narrative.
We have seen that in a time of civil commotion, in which it would
be difficult to conceive a state of things attended in some places
with more aggravated circumstances, a number of individuals,
following the benevolent precepts of the Gospel, were enabled
to keep themselves free from party-feelings, to open their houses
and to lend their assistance to the distressed, whatever their deno-
mination; and that, finally, they were permitted to experience pre-
servation in the midst of a most barbarous and destructive warfare.
This exemplary humanity, and this remarkable preservation, were not
confined to one or a few individuals in a particular spot; but were
common to a considerable number of persons, in different parts
of an extensive country, professing and following the same principles.
And when they were threatened with the burning of their habitations,
the destruction of their families, and the loss of their own lives,
if they persisted in acts denounced by their enemies; they were
favoured with fortitude, notwithstanding, to pursue that line of con-
duct, which they believed to be consistent with their duty, fearlessly
and faithfully, in the presence of armed multitudes, who seemed even
to be kept in awe by their Christian magnanimity.
We have seen that the signal preservation which the members of
the Society were favoured to experience, was marked by one excep-
tion, in the case of a young man who fell a victim to his own temerity;
and that the peculiar circumstances, under which this apparent ex-
ception took place, serve rather to illustrate and establish, than to
invalidate, the principles by which the Society was governed.
In addition to these things, we have to notice, in the economy of
the Society itself, the sympathy and brotherly kindness manifested,
not only by their countrymen, but by Friends at a distance; by the
first, in coming forward to relieve their suffering brethren, and by
the last, in offers of assistance, should it be required.
*
27
Upon a consideration of all these things, a number of reflections
offer themselves to our notice.
In the first place, we naturally feel a desire that principles, like
those, by which this body of Christians were actuated, should
prevail more generally in the world; and we are led to inquire, if
it be not possible, that moral effects which took place on a small
scale, should take place also on a larger; that a beginning might
thus be made for that glorious consummation, when men shall learn
7%) (17° 72O 7770.7°6’s
We must be satisfied that what is wanting, in the first instance,
is courage to maintain the self-denying and peaceable principles of
the Gospel ; and if examples be required, then, by the facts
recorded, we give the advocates of war decisive proofs that these
principles are not visionary and inapplicable to the state of civil
society; but that they are substantial and efficient when brought
into operation, contributing to the preservation of individuals, and to
the general good of the human family.
Can we reasonably doubt, if the numbers of those, who, amidst
the horrors of this rebellion, acted upon these principles, and
endeavoured thus to fulfil their duties to their fellow-creatures, had
been still greater, that the triumph of humanity, or of peaceable
practices over warlike, would also have been greater, and that
many, who fell victims, would have been spared P
In proportion as the elements of Peace encroach upon and
displace the elements of War, the force of the latter must become
weaker : in other words, in proportion to the numbers of those,
who lift up the standard of Peace in any country, Peace is diligently
pursued, and religiously preserved ; and the sparks of contention,
whenever they appear, are, as when water is cast upon fire, stifled
and extinguished.
For, as this devouring element only spreads among combustible
materials, when these are wanting, it must cease ; so the passions
of revenge and cruelty, when they are opposed by meekness and
benevolence, having no food for the flame, must of necessity be
calmed and appeased.
Were a whole nation to act upon these principles, what an ex-
ample it would be to the world! and is there any wrath or violence
of man it could have cause to fear? .
28
If the life of one man is preserved, who, in time of imminent
peril, conscientiously displays the mark of true discipleship, in love
to his enemy as well as to his brother, we rejoice at the event,
though, as an isolated example, we might not perhaps be induced
to build upon it in our future conduct. But if a number, acting
upon the same principles, under very various circumstances, are
found to experience preservation, we have then something like the
proofs afforded by matter of fact, to lead us to entertain a question
upon the possibility of the same effects resulting from the same
causes, on a still larger scale, if men would only have courage to
make the experiment.
If, in addition to the evidence, derived from experience, of the effi-
cacy of peaceable conduct, we have the precept and example of Him
who pronounced his blessing upon the peace-maker, what stronger
sanction can a sincere Christian look for, to determine him to re-
nounce the the spirit and the trade of war, and to enlist himself under
the banner of the Prince of Peace
And as we could not rationally, and certainly not as Christians,
contend that a lengthened existence was a proof of peculiar favour in
a pilgrimage like that of the present life, in which some of the best of
men have been permitted to run but a short career, before they were
summoned to their reward; we are called upon religiously to adhere
to our principles in times of outward extremity, without any prospec-
tive view to a limited or a protracted duration. The Supreme Being
is surely not less merciful to his creatures, because he permits some
of them to fall a sacrifice to the sword of the cruel, in order that they
may be translated a little sooner, than would otherwise be their lot,
to the regions of bliss and immortality. -
The sword of the cruel, we cannot for a moment doubt, has never
been permitted to cut off the innocent, without a merciful design to
the sufferer, and a gracious purpose of watering and multiplying the
seed of the true church with the martyrs’ blood. . For, whosoever
has died in the faithful support of his Christian testimonies, has, in all
ages, been a martyr; and we may confidently say, that his blood has
not been shed upon the earth in vain.
Whenever violence, therefore, has been permitted to gain, as it
were, a temporary advantage over the meek and unresisting spirit of
Christianity—which is the spirit of Peace—we are warranted in
29
concluding that it has been for some special end. And what are
we to consider that end but the ultimate triumph of good over evil;
and, consequently the enlargement of the Messiah’s kingdom In
all ages, when devoted and faithful martyrs have sealed their testi-
mony with their blood, it has proved a seed more or less fruitful,
according to a variety of concomitant circumstances. In various
periods of the church, its living members have had to pass through
different dispensations, adapted to the exigencies of the times; in
some, more humiliating, in others, more triumphant—in all, deeply
baptizing to themselves. But the self-denying spirit of Christianity
requires, that, in all cases, the possessions and honours of this world,
and even life itself, should be held in light estimation, compared with
the joys, and rewards, and glories of immortality. When violence,
therefore, in a dark and degenerate age, is allowed to prevail over
Christian meekness, as if there were no providence to protect the good,
it cannot be consistently supposed, that these are actually forsaken ;
and that the possession of property and of life, secured by means of
active resistance, is to be accounted a sign of divine favour, justifying
the use of arms.
In such an age, for inscrutable purposes, examples are perhaps
more necessary to be made to the world, of the sufferings than of the
triumphs of Christianity.
But if, in former times, Christians were called upon to seal their
testimony with their blood, can they now refuse to do the same, when
present advantage may come in competition with the duties of love
and forbearance P
If men are determined in their minds to live at ease, at all hazards,
and conceive that Christianity does not now require of them the sacri-
fices which it did in the first ages of the church, they will, unquestion-
ably, suffer the standard of the Cross to fall from their hands, rather
than expose themselves to suffering, and perhaps to contempt, in the
support of it.
While, on the one hand, therefore, it is certain, that no degree
of bitterness and persecution can extinguish the light of the true
Church; on the other, all those who endeavour to hold up this
light in its purity to the world—whether it be to an age, sunk in
ignorance, or carelessly reposing in the false light of an erroneous
philosophy—are as stars in the firmament, and as witnesses of
30
imperishable renown who have borne a noble testimony for the truth,
and will be accessory, in their measure, to its ultimate triumph over
darkness and delusion. Hence, as a faithful and conscientious sup-
port of any Christian testimony, even if the sacrifice should proceed
as far as the stake or the cross, will infallibly strengthen the bonds
and attachments to the Christian Church, and help to keep its holy
flame alive in the earth : so every Christian who, in a meek and
peaceable spirit, suffers wrong, either in person or property, from
violent men, exalts the character of his religion in the eyes of the
world; and after the glorious example of his divine Master, in his
measure, holds up, for imitation, the same spirit of meekness, forbear-
ance, and universal benevolence, that was in Christ.
This, therefore, is the peculiar feature of the Gospel, which is
calculated, more than any other, to excite the love and admiration of
the world. For it is almost impossible that rational beings should
contemplate a religion, which looks upon all men with peace and
good-will, and enables its followers, to forgive them that offend, to
love their enemies, to do good even to them that hate, and to bless
them that persecute, without feelings of admiration, and of reverence
for its divine precepts. -
It is indeed to be acknowledged that events, like some of those
we have been relating, have a tendency to rouse our honest indigna-
tion against cruelty, perpetrated or designed : so that, in the natural
heat of the mind, we are almost tempted, like some formerly, to pray
that we might be armed with power to execute summary vengeance
upon the authors and projectors of such atrocities: these are natural
feelings, but they are not Christian. And while it is the duty of an
honest historian, with just abhorrence of crime, to detail facts as they
occurred, it is also the duty of a fellow-mortal to temper this indigna-
tian with feelings of Christian compassion. While we lament the
vices of others, let us not forget our own infirmities, and our own
duties. If these are not Christian duties, what are they to be deno-
minated P Are we at liberty to take the natural impulses which are
common to us with the brutes, and which flourish most in the most
barbarous state of human society, for rules of conduct, and motives
of action, more obligatory than the moderating, humanizing, and re-
straining precepts of the Gospel?
It is not presumed that the conquest over our own passions and
31
resentments is easily acquired. Like other Christian duties, the
subjection of our natural impulses is a work of time, and discipline,
and labour. No man can, at once, he brought to see that it would
be wrong to take the life of a remorseless assassin, who is dealing
destruction around him, as with an insatiable thirst for human
blood; yet no man who professes Christian principles, can doubt
that there is a power able to control his fury, if it were consistent
with divine mercy that it should be controlled. And, surely,
various effectual means are in the power, and at the disposal of the
wise and good, both to restrain and to punish the murderer, with-
out either taking away his life, or violating their own Christian
principles.
On a solemn review, therefore, of the two states—that of the
ferocious murderer, cut off in the midst of his crimes, or that of an
innocent victim prepared for a better life; which is most entitled
to our serious commiseration ?—He, who yields up his life, with a
meek and forgiving disposition, in obedience to the law, and after
the example of Christ; or, he who is cut down in his enormities, and
sent unprepared to the bar of the Righteous Avenger ?—Surely, the
latter. -
But, it may be said, that this reasoning does not so much apply
to the conflict of the innocent and cruel, as to that between one of
the latter and a human being not yet in a situation fitting him
to appear before his Maker; and hence, that such a one ought to
guard his existence by every means in his power, in order that he
may be better prepared. To this objection a very brief reply may be
made, that the perfect rules of Christian excellence cannot be modi-
fied or lowered, at the will of man; so as to acquit any who may
content themselves with the adoption of measures, which, so far from
being allowed, are strictly forbidden, even to the most upright pillars
of the Christian Faith.
When we can find in the New Testament two paths for Christian
travellers;—one for the more advanced, and another laid down for
him who is not disposed to walk; in such a strait and narrow way;
then, indeed, some relaxation of Christian precepts may be allowed:
but, if it be granted to one, it must be so to all. And, as there is
plainly but one code, admitting of neither exceptions nor reservations,
no man can expect to justify himself in any act that does not come
32
up to the full measure of the excellence, and unsophisticated construc-
tion, of the sacred rule.
Is a Christian, then, to take the law of violence in his own hands,
to avenge himself by the strength of his own arm, for wrongs he
may either fear or suffer Or is he, in humble reliance upon
Providence, to oppose his integrity, and his innocence, and the
weight of his Christian testimonies, to the arms and outrage of the
violent?
If we reason with those who answer the first question in the
affirmative, we find, that they readily admit that it is a praiseworthy
self-devotion to lay down our lives for our country, or in defence of
our civil liberties, or of our kindred; but, at the same time, insinuate
that it is mean and ignoble to die for our religion, in the peaceable
support and vindication of any of our testimonies. That is to say,
according to their views, It is more the duty of a Christian to
sacrifice his life in the defence of earthly comforts and attractions,
than to lay it down, if he should fall into the hands of the cruel who
will not respect his testimonies, in that meek and forgiving spirit,
which his religion enjoins, with the prospect of etermal happiness
as the reward of his obedience;—To secure the fame of a patriot, or
for some other sublunary object, he may lose his life with honour ;
but to secure an object that is eternal, the sacrifice is accounted
ignominious!—In the short and weary pilgrimage of this life, which
has, in reality, few objects deserving the exclusive notice of the true
Christian, he may die nobly for some stake of little value, the impor-
tance of which is magnified by its nearness; but if he lay down his
life for a crown of immortality, he is to be considered a zealot or
enthusiast, because the object, though of transcendent moment, is a
little more distant ſ—a mode of calculation directly opposed to that
of Christ, “What is a man profited if he shall gain the whole world
and lose his own soul º' - -
Patriotism is, undoubtedly, commendable; and they, who have
died in the cause of civil liberty, deserve their due meed of honour.
But patriotism, without Christianity, can only erect a baseless fabric
that must crumble into ruins. The only enduring support of civil
liberty is the Gospel, with its humanizing, emancipating, soul.
expanding institutions. When patriotism is made to supersede this
vital spring of all virtue, then the glory of this world is made to
33
eclipse the brighter glory of that which is to come. “If my kingdom
were of this world, then would my servants fight.” The most valuable
legacy, which a man can leave his country, is a life devoted to the
practical illustration of one or more of his Christian testimonies,
maintained in their original purity. The mind of man, however
enlightened, can excogitate nothing more excellent, nothing more
conducive to the well-being of society, nothing more useful to the
whole race, than the precepts of the Gospel. For what do they
comprehend, but the very spirit of universal charity ? PEACE on
EARTH AND Good-will. To MEN, are the objects aimed at by the
promulgation of this blessing—the foundation on which it rests,
and the source from which all its institutions are derived. Hence,
true patriotism may display, itself efficiently and usefully without
taking up arms, either to defend rights or to secure privileges ; for
the patriotism of a Christian is continually aiming at the highest
interests of man; and as the propagation of the Gospel needs not
the aid of the sword, neither can patriotism, viewed in this light,
need it. - -
We take it for granted that it is upon the broad basis of Christian
principles alone, that reasonings against the use of arms ought to be
founded: inasmuch as the Church of Christ has never required the
aid of the sword for its propagation—may, has been signally retarded
in its course, whenever this false friend has come forward to its
assistance. -
Now, as we read in history, that there have been periods of depres-
sion in the Church, so we are to consider that there may be such
again, in which Christians may be called upon to lay down their lives
in obedience to their testimonies; consequently, that violence may be
permitted again, as in former ages, to shed the blood of faithful wit-
nesses, as in the streets. Upon these principles we could not expect
that, at all times and under all circumstances, the lives of peaceful
Christians should be spared. w -
The Gospel, in its purity, has many valuable testimonies, besides
that, in favour of peace and harmony amongst men: some persons,
we know, have yielded up their lives on mere points of faith, which
their adversaries were not in a state of mind to comprehend : but
there is no human being who can shut his heart or his understanding
against the influence of peaceable, unoffending conduct. º:
34
it would therefore appear, that, whenever a stand, has been con-
scientiously made on the one single testimony against War, either
by many or by few, preservation of life has, in a remarkable
manner, been experienced. And it may be for this reason, that
there is no other Christian testimony, in the support of which the
meek and humble disciple is led to evince, more conspicuously,
his allegiance, and child-like dependence upon the immediate pro-
tection of an Almighty Parent; no other testimony which is more
calculated to win the disaffected, to tame the cruel, and to soften the
violent.
And, on this ground, which seems to have more reference to the
natural effects of peaceable conduct, than to the principle as a Chris-
tian tenet, an objection may be noticed, which is sometimes put for-
ward, in the shape of a conclusive argument, against the disciple of
Peace, by his opponents.
They suppose a man, who may suddenly profess to act according
to peaceable principles, to be all at once involved in some serious
crisis of difficulty and danger; and, under these circumstances, if he
cannot escape from the difficulty, by a strict adherence to his Chris-
tian principles, they are ready, forthwith, to question the doctrine
and its practical application. For, they hastily conclude, that his
principles, being, as they suppose, too refined for use, cannot be
maintained in practice ; without considering that he might have
been instrumental in bringing upon himself the dangers in which
he is involved, by giving way to principles of an opposite tendency
in his previous conduct.
Now, this is not a fair supposition, nor is it a fair predicament in
which to place him.
We have before said, that a man cannot at once be brought to see
that it is wrong to take away the life of a remorseless assassin. We
now say, on the other hand, that when a man has been for a long
time sowing the seeds of contention, and has in this way made himself
liable to the consequences; and then, impelled by fear or by a better
motive, suddenly repents of his antichristian conduct, and takes up a
resolution to change it ; he ought not to expect that he should
instantly reap the fruits of Peace, nor ought he (if, indeed, ever) to
presume upon Divine protection, in such circumstances.
For, in so far as the systematic lover of Peace may be concerned
35
in the affairs of life, and be allowed to throw the weight of his
influence into the scale of events, whether civil or political, it is
obvious, that if the principles of peace and good-will should be
acted upon in good faith, between those who might be otherwise
disposed to contend, the danger and the extremity, and the pre-
dicament in question, through the medium of his influence, would not
OCCUT.
It is not fair, therefore, to place the follower of Peace in a difficulty,
into which his own principles would never lead him, and then, as if
the validity of his principles were to be staked upon the event, to
challenge him to extricate himself from the outward perplexity, by
any other means than what his opponents denominate the lawful
struggle of violence for the maintenance of civil order, against those
who would break down its barriers and overturn the most sacred insti-
tutions of human society. For it cannot, in reason, be expected, that
a sudden adoption of pacific sentiments, accompanied by a momentary
fervour of piety, and impassioned invocation of the Great Name,
should be availing towards the preservation of any, who are in
the extremity of danger from barbarian cruelty, when they may
have been living for a long time in systematic opposition to
the very principles, and in direct violation of the laws, which
they are thus hastily acknowledging. Humble reliance upon Pro-
vidence, is not a duty to be observed only in the hour of
danger ; it is as necessary to the right-minded in the season
of outward Peace, as in that of War. It is not while the storm is
raging, that prayer is likely to be effectual, when it is offered by
those, who, in the time of prosperity, never approach the throne of
mercy to acknowledge the blessings showered upon them by Divine
favour. Neither is it in the hour of imminent danger that we can
expect a passive submission will be availing to disarm and conciliate
the ferocious; unless the mind is at the same time deeply imbued
with Christian meekness, and resignation, and humble reliance upon
Providence.
Now, we are not disposed to argue upon this point with those,
who cannot conceive this latter state, and who only reason as
if the impulse of mere human indignation against wrong, af-
forded sufficient grounds to justify retaliation. We cannot ex-
pect to convince men against the force of the whole practical
36
principles of their lives. If they have been outward in their views
of the protection of either property or life, outward in all their cal-
culations of expediency, outward in every plan of earthly aggram-
dizement—so that they are almost ready triumphantly to boast them-
selves independent of the care and notice of their Heavenly Father:-
we no more suppose that they will become suddenly the reverse, and
capable of seeing the exact relation between a disciple of the Prince
of Peace, and a misguided fellow-creature, than that an eye, long
used to darkness, should at once be able to endure the light,
or an untutored Indian to comprehend the profoundest princi-
ples of philosophy. --
We do, however, expect that those, who have examined the
genuine principles of the Gospel, and have seen that they are
all of a self-denying tendency, should pause a moment, before
they sanction the doctrine, that a meek and consistent follower
of Jesus Christ, is at all to be justified in avenging either himself, or
his brother, or his country, with the sword, in other words, is at
liberty to oppose violence to violence, cruelty to cruelty, and murder
to murder. - - - - -
For, as a kingdom of Peace is most assuredly to be established,
and must be established, by pure means, upon the earth; the fol-
lowers of this peaceable kingdom are not to lower the standard, held
out to them to bear, by resorting to the self-same means which are
employed by others, not only to secure their secular interests, but to
promote disunion and moral evil, - the means of violence and
bloodshed. - - -
The ground-work of Peace was laid in the institutions of the
Prince of Peace himself. The spirit and the love of Peace are
inculcated upon all his followers. The least envying, or jealousy, or
disposition to retaliation, is therefore a signal of revolt—a defection
from his pure standard—the beginning of a desertion to that side,
which is wholly engrossed with the world and its maxims, its
pursuits, its possessions,—its enjoyments, and its turbulent prin-
ciples of action. Can any reasonable man conceive that the pure
principles of Christianity can admit of any compromise, any safe
coalition with practices, which, in whatever way they begin, and how-
ever innocent their cause, have a tendency to rouse the worst passions
of the mind, and to produce the greatest amount of moral evil?
37
Men must be one thing or the other: they cannot be faithful to
two masters : they cannot serve God and Mammon. It is better
perhaps to be Pagan in profession, if Christian in practice ; than
Christian in profession, if only Pagan in life and conduct.
In conclusion, let us ask any man, after he may have been perusing
the instances recorded, however hackneyed in the modes of thinking
common to the world, and however ill-disposed to risk his life on such
terms; yet, when cooly reflecting on the circumstances, and ready to
appear before the Supreme Judge of the earth, whether he would not
infinitely prefer, to have been a peaceful actor in such a striſe, and to
merit the praise and the glorious reward of such a character, than to
have been the greatest military hero that ever triumphed in a field of
battle.
It cannot be said that these individuals were pusillanimous, and
wanted personal courage. Some of them, it is clear, displayed exem-
plary fortitude : for, unarmed, they presented their bodies fearlessly
and nobly, before the pike and the gun. And what gave them this
fortitude, but the sustaining conviction, that their hearts were
upright, however simple their intentions, before the Lord ; and that
his omnipotent arm was their shield, and able to defend them in the
very darkest extremity ?
I shall conclude with a few extracts from the * Primitive
Christianity” of an eminent writer in the English Church, William
Cave, D.D. on the practice of the early Christians.
He gives this testimony concerning them : “No sooner did the
Gospel fly abroad into the world, but the love and charity of Chris-
tians became notorious even to a proverb, the heathens taking notice
of the Christians of those times with this particular remark, “See
how these Christians love one another.’”—“ There's one circum-
stance yet behind, concerning the love and charity of those times,
very worthy to be taken notice of, and that is, the universal extent of
it; they did good to all, though more especially to them of the house-
hold of faith, i. e. to Christians; they did not confine their bounty
within the narrow limits of a party, this or that sect of men, but em-
braced an object of pity and love wherever they met it : they were
kind to all men, yea, to their bitterest enemies, and that with a
IX.- FART III • ID
38
charity as large as the circles of the sun that visits all parts of the
world :—this, indeed, is the proper goodness and excellency of Chris-
tianity, as Tertullian observes, it being common to all men to love
their friends, but peculiar only to Christians to love their enemies.
“And Athenagoras principally makes use of this argument to
prove the divinity of the Christian religion, and challenges all the
great masters of reason and learning amongst the heathens to
produce any, either of themselves or their disciples, of so pure
and refined a temper, as could, instead of hating, love their enemies,
bear curses and revilings with an undisturbed mind, and, instead of
reviling again, to bless and speak well of them, and to pray for them
who lay in wait to take away their lives. And yet this did Chris-
tians; they embraced their enemies, and pardoned and prayed for
them. Nay, they did not think it enough not to return evil for evil,
or barely to forgive their enemies, unless they did them all the kind-
ness that lay in their power.—We read of one Pachomius, an heathen
soldier, in the first times of Constantine, that the army being nearly
starved for want of necessary provisions, and coming to a city that
was mostly inhabited by Christians, they freely and speedily gave
them whatever they wanted for the accommodation of the army.
Amazed with this strange and unwonted charity, and being told that
the people that had done it were Christians, whom they generally
preyed upon, and whose profession it was to hurt no man, and to do
good to every man, he threw away his arms, became an anchoret,
and gave up himself to the strictest severities of religion. This also
Julian the emperor plainly confesses; for, urging Arsaicus, the Chief
Priest of Galatia, to take care of the poor, and to build hospitals in
every city, for the entertaining of poor strangers and travellers, both
of their own and other religions; he adds, “ for it is a shame, that
when the Jews suffer none of theirs to beg, and the wicked Galatians
(Christians) relieve not only their own, but also those of our party,
that we only should be wanting in so necessary a duty.’ So prevalent
is truth, as to extort a confession from its most bitter and virulent
opposers. Of this I shall only add one instance or two more, proper
enough to be inserted here.
“Eusebius, speaking of that dreadful plague and famine that hap-
pened in the east under the Emperor Maximinus, wherein so many
whole families miserably perished” and were swept away at once ; he
39
adds, that, at this time, the care and piety of the Christians towards
all, evidently approved itself to all the Gentiles that were about them;
they being the only persons that, during this sad and calamitous
state of things, performed the real offices of mercy and humanity :
the fame whereof filled the ears and mouths of all men, who extolled
the God of the Christians, and confessed that they had shewed them-
selves to be the only truly pious and religious persons. And, indeed,
the charity was the more remarkable, in that the Christians, at the
very time, were under a most heavy persecution.
“Thus in the terrible plague that, in the time of Gallus and
Volusius, raged so much through the whole world, especially at
Carthage, when innumerable multitudes were swept away every
day, and the streets filled with the carcases of the dead; every
one trembling, flying, and shifting for themselves, deserting their
nearest friends and kindred, mone staying, unless it was to make a
prey:—In this sad and miserable case, Cyprian, then bishop of the
place, calls the Christians together, and instructs them in the duties
of mercy and charity . . . . . Immediately upon this, they unani-
mously agreed to assist their common enemies, every one lending
help, according to his rank and quality.
“Such was the temper, such the carriage of Christians towards
them that were without ; within themselves they maintained the
most admirable peace and harmony, and were, in a manner, of
one heart and soul.”—See Primitive Christianity; or, the Religion
of the Ancient Christians in the first Ages of the Gospel, by William
Cave, D.D.
FIN IS.
TT------—---
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V. Sketches of the Horrors of War, by Evan Rees. 2d.
VI. On Universal Peace, by the Rev. David Bogue. 2d.
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VIII. An Examination of the Principles which are considered to support
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*
Tract No. X. of the Society for the Promotion of
Permanent and Universal Peace.
HISTORICAL
ILLUSTRATIONS
THE ORIGIN AND CONSEQUENCES
Of
W A. R.
BY THE AUTHOR OF “ AN EXAMINATION
OF THE
PRINCIPLES WHICH ARE CONSIDERED TO SUPPORT
THE PRACTICE OF WAR.”
“The existence of war at all is a tremendous proof that mankind are not
civilized.”—Essays on the Pursuit of Truth.
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AND BY ALL OTHER BOOKSELLERS.
1831.
Price Sixpence.
The object of THE SOCIETY for the PROMOTION of
PERMANENT and UNIVERSAL PEACE, is to print and
circulate Tracts, and to diffuse information tending to show that
War is inconsistent with the spirit of Christianity, and the true
interests of mankind; and to point out the means best calculated
to maintain Permanent and Universal Peace, upon the basis of
Christian Principles. Its labours are not limited by Local
attachments, nor circumscribed by Geographical Boundaries,
but extend to the whole human race.
RoDERT MARSDEN, Esq. Chairman.
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ADVERTISEMENT.
THE Author of the following Treatise is already known to our
readers, by a Work entitled “An Examination of the Principles
which are considered to support the Practice of War,” and which is
the Eighth of the series of Tracts published by the Peace Society.
The happy combination of literary talent and of correct moral
principles displayed in that Tract has rarely been excelled; and the
promise it gave of excellence in the future productions of the Author
is amply realized in the following admirable review of the belligerent
history of mankind. And the Committee of the Peace Society
feel that it is due to the amiable Author to acknowledge their obli-
gations to her, for having devoted her time and talents to the Chris-
tian cause in which they are engaged, and for her kind permission to
adopt the following excellent Treatise as one of the standard Tracts
of the Peace Society.
Possessed of pre-eminent talents which could not fail of com-
manding notice and distinction in the popular walks of Literature,
the moral merit of the Author is enhanced by her having consecrated
them to the less popular, but more hallowed purpose of stripping of its
false halo of glory, and exposing in its true light, the destructive
career of the warrior. If by thus consecrating her intellectual
endowments to the establishment of correct moral principles, she
may not attain to that ephemeral popularity so much in request by
her contemporaries, this loss will be more than compensated by the
approbation of the wise and good, and, above all, of that almighty
and beneficent Being with whom even a cup of water administered in
his name will not lose its reward.
April, 1831.
HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS,
&c. &c.
“The fact seems to be, that wars, in such cases, have originated from a total
want of public opinion, from the ignorance of the people who allowed
ambitious or unprincipled rulers successfully to employ every engine to
influence their passions, and to excite the multitude to acts of destruction
towards those of another country for no possible advantage. In future ages it
will, perhaps, scarcely be believed, that rulers could have been so flagitions,
or nations so brutalized, as to act in this manner.”—Essay on the Rise,
Progress, and Present State of Public Opinion. By W. A. MACK INN on.
P. 244. Note.
WHERE a certain mode of thinking and acting has been long
interwoven with the habits of mankind, there are commonly arrayed
about it such a host of feelings, prejudices, and arguments, founded
on prescriptive authority, that to call in question the propriety of its
continuance, appears somewhat like attempting to throw a doubt on
one of the fundamental laws of our existence. Should the reflecting
philanthropist, therefore, in the course of his silent observations on
the character and tendency of human actions, discover grounds for
believing that a practice, upheld by the usage of past ages, and
fostered by its accordance with selfish inclination, is yet equally
at variance with the dictates of religion and sound policy, he will not
indulge in any romantic expectations of suddenly overthrowing, by
the unaided force of truth, the long-established customs of nations.
But neither will he despair of the eventual improvement of his species.
The experience of former times has taught him that the conclusions
of the enlightened few, although slowly adopted, and strenuously
contested by their contemporaries, are commonly but the forerunners
of public opinion. The experience of his own day convinces him
that by public opinion, which is ever progressive in power as it
acquires continually fresh accessions of intelligence, the councils of
nations, and the proceedings of mankind at large, will ultimately be
directed. He has watched the effects of the gradual infusion of new
ideas into the general mass; and he observes that these effects are
6
daily increasing in magnitude and importance. The system of social
order is developing hourly new relations; and sentiments, moral and
political, which, on their first introduction, were branded with the
stigma of enthusiasm, have subsequently become the acknowledged
standard of practical truth.
It is without any vain anticipation of effecting a sudden and mira-
culous change in the dispositions or practices of men, that the advo-
cates of universal peace persist in appealing to public attention on
behalf of the principles they maintain. Convinced that the system of
war is no less inimical to the real interest of nations than it is opposed
to the precepts of religion and humanity, they feel themselves bound
to persevere in endeavouring to direct the minds of others to a calm
investigation of its nature and consequences. And if they cannot
expect that the conclusions they have embraced should in general
meet with entire assent, it is, however, not unreasonable to hope that
some may be led by them to study the records of war in a spirit of
impartial research, that will aid in dissipating the illusive mists with
which ignorance and prejudice have long invested the subject, and
which are already in many instances beginning to disappear.
The argument against war derived from the tenor of Christianity
they cannot but consider as unanswered and unanswerable. To those
who are in the habit of implicitly submitting every moral sentiment
to the test of revelation, no other argument is needed. But the
opinions of the generality are regulated far less by a sense of abstract
right than by their conformity with the standard of supposed ex-
pediency. Now in what manner is the question of expediency to be
tried in the present instance P Surely by an appeal to experience.
War is now generally admitted to be in itself an evil, fraught with
incalculable hazard to the actors, and attended on every side by
miseries, physical and political, against which it is impossible to
guard. The question in debate, therefore, may be reduced to this:
Are the results of war, deducting all its accompanying mischief, yet
productive, upon the whole, of a counterbalance of good to the parties
engaging in it? If not, does there nevertheless exist a class of ex-
ceptions sufficiently marked and numerous to authorize a departure
from the general rule which an extensive collation of facts may have
enabled us to deduce In arguing this point, it is usual with the
advocates of war to bring forward some imaginary case, in which one
7
of the parties is already reduced to extremities that could scarcely
have occurred but from a series of mutual aggressions, and them,
assuming that active force affords the only possible remedy for such
a state of things, they triumphantly urge the charge of absurdity
against their opponents. The friends of peace would rest their
defence, not upon vague declamation, but upon the evidence of fact.
In order, however, to make this evidence available, it is necessary
that history should be studied with greater diligence, greater im-
partiality, and a more sedulous care to exclude every false light, than
are commonly bestowed upon it. The searcher after truth must not
be satisfied with superficial views. He must trace to their secret
sources the several destructive wars which have been emblazomed in
the annals of fame : he must observe their ruinous effects upon con-
tending nations: he must investigate how far their proposed objects
have been accomplished; and accurately distinguish between the
alleged motives of statesmen, and the hidden springs by which the
real authors of every contest have been actuated. Should the results
of his examination be such as to warrant him in inferring that the
greater number of wars have been as degrading in their origin, and
futile in their end, as they are acknowledged to have been desolating
in their progress, he must be cautious of recognizing probable
exceptions in regard to events of immediate interest. An object may
be seem too near to be comprehended in its due proportions. We
can judge of its relative magnitude and position only by comparing
it with others more distant, whose bearings have been previously
ascertained. The warning of repeated failures has but little influence
over the judgment in cases where the passions are brought into play.
The gambler, who enters again and again upon the same hazardous
speculation, still flatters himself with the assurance of ultimate
success; but the cool by-stander will point to the tables in which his
chances of gain and loss are calculated, and decide with unerring
precision upon the probabilities of the future from the certainties of
the past.
With the view of affording some hints that may assist in directing
the inquirer into the proposed train of investigation, it is the plan of
the present essay briefly to review the records of the most celebrated
wars which distinguished the early periods of European history. An
•bjection to the principle of peace is, however, sometimes started in
8
the very outset of such an inquiry. On unfolding the map of past
ages, its most characteristic traits are observed to be those of
universal violence. All its lines are lines of blood. From the first
settlements of our infant race to the latest era of civilization and
refinement, a system of reciprocal aggression appears to have entered
into the very constitution of society. Hence it is alleged, that the
law of force is part of the law of man's nature, the exercise of which
being evidently interwoven with the whole scheme of Providence,
does not admit of a dispute concerning its propriety. But this
reasoning, if correct, would prove too much : for it may be applied
with similar, if not equal, plausibility to the justification of whatever
enormities have at any time been extensively prevalent. Pursued
to its consequences, it would disprove the existence of moral evil
altogether : that is—since we cannot shut our eyes upon the fact—
it would annihilate the distinction between evil and good. We must
indeed confess, that the existence of moral evil, incomprehensible as
it has been, and will probably ever remain to our limited under-
standings, must in some mode or other be reconcilable with the attri-
butes of perfect wisdom and goodness. But the believer in divine
revelation possesses a no less assured conviction that the actual
commission of wrong is directly opposed to the will of the Deity,
and that the ultimate design of his government is to promote its
extirpation. The general prevalence of any practice cannot, there-
fore, be admitted in evidence of its moral rectitude, in other words,
of its conformity to the Divine will, unless it be previously shown
that such practice proceeds, not from the abuse and misapplication
of powers originally bestowed on us for valuable ends, but constitutes
their sole and legitimate employment. Will it be maintained that
any of our faculties have been implanted for the express purpose of
mutual hatred and destruction;–or that the instinct of self-love has
no other field to expatiate in than the perpetration of injury to
others;–or that the intellectual and spiritual endowments of hu-
manity were never designed to direct and restrain the use of the
inferior propensities 2 Melancholy indeed would be the prospects of
the human race, were the validity of such assertions to be allowed.
The world is, then, exactly as it ought to be, and must ever remain
No improvement is practicable, and none is required 1
But it has been said, and justly said, that under the superintending
9
agency of Providence, war has, in some instances, been rendered
subservient to the cause of liberty and truth. So has tyranny, so
has licentiousness, so has perhaps every other vice. The Supreme
Director of human affairs takes up the proceedings of his ignorant,
self-willed creatures into his own hands, and balancing one disorder
against another, elicits from conflicting elements of evil a certain pro-
portion of good. But, because in the accomplishment of the vast
and benevolent designs of Deity, even the principle of evil has
been made instrumental towards its own destruction, does it therefore
follow that the ultimate ascendency of purer and better principles
is not within the compass of His purposes, or that He has left man
unfurnished with motives to action, from which the same beneficial
results may ensue, unattended by their present fearful counterpoise of
ill 3 The alternate humiliation of contending nations may have
occasionally contributed to the purification of both. Ambition
and selfishness in one party may have checked the overspreading
growth of ambition and selfishness in another, and the ruinous
quarrels of the powerful may have allowed opportunity to the weak
to escape from their domination. But were the conduct of all governed
by juster sentiments, might not the general security be attained by
far less expensive means :
Some ingenious authors have attempted to trace the origin and
progress of civilized society to the events of war. Wherever may
have been the primitive seats of civilization, our researches into
the earliest records of almost every nation, lead us to ascribe its
first introduction to a foreign source. But, obscure as these tra-
ditions in general are, as far as they may be relied upon, we are
led to believe that many of the settlements which afterwards gave
rise to the most illustrious nations of antiquity, were established
at first by pacific measures; by that interchange of superior know-
ledge on the one side, and voluntary submission on the other,
from which equal benefits accrued both to the aborigines and
colonists. Some of the tribes who carried the blessings of social order
in their train, had indeed been forced from their native country
by the aggressions of a stronger neighbour; but others had been
obliged to quit it from the pressure of a redundant population; and
many of the most flourishing and durable settlements of the ancient
world appear to have owed their birth to the peaceful pursuits of
I0
commerce, If violence, therefore, has in several instances accom-
panied the march of civilization, it must be regarded as its incidental
concomitant; not asthe indispensable means of its progress. In modern
times we have seen rude nations oppressed beneath the sway of their
civilized conquerors, generation after generation, without advancing
a single step in the career of improvement. While on the other
hand, the energies of Christianity have recently brought into play an
engine for the moral and intellectual regeneration of barbarous tribes,
as superior in the purity of its actuating principles, as it will even-
tually prove in the tendencies of its influence to the chance operation
of force. -
It will, perhaps, be found, in pursuing the investigations com-
menced in the following pages, that the greater number of wars
have originated in motives purely selfish,--that their effect has
invariably been to multiply contests without end,-and that even
where a certain portion of good has been eventually elicited,
that good has consisted, not in the accomplishment of the wishes of
either party, but in the ultimate overthrow of the designs of both.
So powerful are our early prepossessions in favour of that fasci-
nating country, the lustre of whose arts, philosophy, and literature has
diffused itself over succeeding ages, that we find it difficult to contem-
plate the celebrated struggles of Greece with any other sentiments
than those of unmixed admiration. Enchanted by the glowing language
of poets and later historians,” it is an ungrateful task to penetrate
beneath the brilliant surface of partial declamation, and where fancy
* This excessive declamation on Grecian patriotism “had its origin in Greece,
when Greece was in its decay; but has been mostly produced under the pressure of
the imperial despotism of Rome, when men, not daring to speak directly against the
government under which they lived, enjoyed a weak revenge in reviling it obliquely,
or in obliquely exciting opposition to it through immoderate eulogies of the past.”—
Mitford's History of Greece. A similar opinion is expressed more at large by the
writer of a very able article on “History,” in a late number of the Edinburgh Review.
Alluding to the later Greek historians, the author observes, “Owing to their circum-
stances, of liberty, such as it is in small democracies; of patriotism, such as it is in
small independent communities; they had, and they could have, no experimental
knowledge. It never occurred to them that the feeling which they so much admired
sprung from local and spontaneous circumstances. The writers of whom we speak
should have considered that in patriotism, such as it existed among the Greeks, there
was nothing essentially and eternally good, that an exclusive attachment to a
particular society, though a natural, and, under certain restrictions, a most useful
sentiment, implies no extraordinary attainment of wisdom or virtue; that where it
I 1
had pictured nothing but a generous and triumphant contest for
liberty, to trace out the ruinous tendency of a base and narrow policy.
But the more powerful has been the influence of classic prejudices
over the feelings of mankind, the more imperative is the duty of
submitting them to the test of impartial examination. In so doing,
we must not be actuated by any invidious desire of lessening the
veneration due to real excellence. Let its full tribute of praise be
awarded to every deed of disinterested magnanimity, of unshrinking
fortitude, of patriotic self-devotedness, even where exerted in a cause,
which a more enlightened morality may have taught us to regard as
indefensible. But let us not confound good and evil in our indiscri-
minating applause, or foolishly imagine that the laws of human ma-
ture, and the tendencies of human actions have been different in the
favoured ages of antiquity from those to which all recent experience
bears testimony. The moral and political condition of Greece, at the
epoch of the Persian invasion, appears (according to the accounts of
the most ancient and authentic historians) to have been in many
respects truly deplorable. The boasted liberty of her freest states
consisted in the uncontrolled supremacy of one-twelfth part of the
population. The remainder, consigned to hopeless slavery, at once
supplied the necessities and excited the terrors of their imperious mas-
ters. In consequence of such a derangement of the social structure,
the lower classes of Athenian citizens, destitute of employment, were
has existed in an intense degree, it has turned states into gangs of robbers, whom
their mutual fidelity has rendered more dangerous, has given a character of peculiar
atrocity to war, and has generated that worst of all political evils—the tyranny of
nation over nation. Enthusiastically attached to the name of liberty, these historians
troubled , themselves little about its definition. The Spartans, tormented by ten
thousand absurd restraints, unable to please themselves in the choice of their wives,
their suppers, or their company, compelled to assume a peculiar manner and to talk
in a peculiar style, gloried in their liberty. The aristocracy of Rome repeatedly
made liberty a plea for cutting off the favourites of the people. In almost all the
little commonwealths of antiquity, liberty was used as a pretext for measures directed
against every thing which makes liberty valuable, for measures which stifled dis-
cussion, corrupted the administration of justice, and discouraged the accumulation
of property. These books have given currency to many very erroneous opinions
with respect to ancient history. They have heated the imagination of boys. They
have misled the judgment and corrupted the taste of some men of letters, such as
Akenside, and Sir W. Jones. And many of the evils of the French Revolution are,
we believe, to be traced to the influence of the historians whom we have mentioned,
and their modern imitators.”
I2
driven by idleness and misery into perpetual turbulence: while at
Sparta, the horrible expedient of authorized massacres perpetrated
upon the wretched Helots was adopted to allay the apprehensions of
a servile rebellion. Every little state was at variance with its
neighbours, and their internal warfare was characterized by deeds of
ferocity and treachery not easily to be paralleled in the ammals of his-
tory.* The vaunted patriotism of the Greeks was not only exclusive
of every sentiment of justice or humanity towards foreigners, but
was generally limited to the interests of a single state ; nay, to
the aggrandizement of a single party in that state. Within itself,
we find each city divided into opposing factions, which, alternately
triumphant, exercised the most unrelenting cruelty towards the van-
quished party; t while the dependencies of the several republics were
mostly ripened for revolt by the severity of the government under
which they groaned. Mutual dissensions were, indeed, for a season,
partially suspended by the overwhelming pressure of common danger:
but it was only to be renewed with the bitterness of increased jealousy,
the moment that pressure was removed.
Dazzled by the splendid spectacle of a handful of men opposing
a successful resistance to the combined forces of a mighty empire, it
is seldom that we suffer ourselves to take an impartial view of the
circumstances in which the Persian war had its origin. To form a
just appreciation of the motives of its instigators, it is necessary to
enter a little into detail. During a period of civil distraction, the
Pisistratides, availing themselves of the favour of the popular party,
had acquired the supreme direction of affairs at Athens, and for some
time conducted the government in a mild and liberal spirit. At
length, private revenge, assuming the mask of public virtue, armed
itself with the dagger of the assassin. Tumults and severities ensued
which terminated in the expulsion of Hippias and the ascendency of
the Alcmaeonides. * {
* See, among other instances, the conduct of the Lacedaemonians under Cleomenes
towards the wretched inhabitants of Argolis, who had sought refuge from threatened
violence in one of their consecrated groves (Herodotus, according to Mitford); and
the destruction of the Corinthians at Megara, under the Athenian Myronides.—
Thucydides.
+ Death to the obnoxious leaders, and slavery to their families, were the common
attendants of a political revolution. The Eginetans, about the period of the Persian
war, put to death seven hundred of the discomfited faction.
13
The Persian government, under the protection of which Hippias
had placed himself, some years afterwards haughtily demanded or
Athens his restoration to the supreme power. About this time the
Ionians, who had formed one of the Persian dependencies ever since
their subjugation by Cyrus, and appear to have lived under an equal
and beneficial system of administration, were invited to throw off the
yoke by the following circumstances. Hystiaeus, governor of Miletus,
was detained by Darius, who feared his ambitious designs, in a sort
of honourable exile at Susa. Impatient to return to his country,
and hoping that he might be invested with the command of the royal
forces, Hystiaeus commissioned his son-in-law, Aristagoras, to endea-
vour to excite a rebellion amongst the inhabitants of Ionia. A
previous quarrel with the Persian general, with whom Aristagoras
had been engaged in an expedition against a party of his fellow
countrymen at Naxos, induced that general to yield a ready assent
to the proposals of Hystiaeus; and the concurrence of the European
Greeks was also solicited in an enterprise against Persia. The
Athenians, irritated by the requisition of the Persians to recall their
banished citizen, eagerly seized the opportunity of revenge, and,
without any formal declaration of war, commenced hostilities by the
burning of Sardis. Enmity against the AEginetans, who had espoused
the opposite cause, and between whom and the Athenians there
existed a feud of ancient date, appears subsequently to have contri-
buted not a little to strengthen the hatred of the latter towards the
Persian nation, and to have occasioned that barbarous, and, according
to the sentiments of the time, sacrilegious treatment of the heralds,
which drew down upon Athens the especial vengeance of Darius.
At the commencement of the war, and repeatedly during its progress,
we find nearly all the Grecian states, with the exception of Athens,
availing themselves of every imaginable excuse for evading their
share in the general defence; while the latter, urged to extremity
by the unpardonable nature of the insult she had offered in the burn-
ing of Sardis, was reduced to employ artifice, and even bribery, to
secure the co-operation of her neighbours. The event of the contest
is well known, and cannot be regarded with indifference. It evinced
the superiority of skill and desperate resolution, aided, however, by
local advantages, over the force of an undisciplined and uninterested
multitude. But let it be rem mbered that the ultimate object of the
14
struggle was professedly liberty on the one side, while on the other
it was in fact the preservation of internal tranquillity,” and the exten-
sion of foreign dominion. Mark how far these respective objects
were attained Tô Persia, the disastrous consequences of her
ambitious and mistaken policy did not terminate with the immediate
defeat she sustained. The invasions of Darius and his successor
were a principal cause of that introduction of Persian interests in
the affairs of Greece, which eventually roused the united Greek
nations against the empire, and brought about its overthrow by the
arms of Alexander.
In tracing the progress of the triumphant party, it is curious to
observe in how direct a line the victories of Marathon and Salamis
led to the subversion of national independence. Indeed the narrative
of Grecian history from this period affords a striking exemplification
of the law by which a long train of military successes invariably
engender pride, ambition, and consequent reverse of fortune. It
exhibits a series of wars, each kindled at the embers of the preceding,
temporary pacifications affording materials for fresh disputes, until
all the contending states are finally overwhelmed in one common
ruin.
At Athens, the disproportionate ascendency which the populace
had acquired from the circumstances of the struggle with Persia;
the consequent necessity of gratifying their extravagance by the
imposition of heavy burdens on subordinate allies; the power and
reputation which had accrued to her navy since the battle of Salamis;
the spirit of ambitious enterprise fostered by the memory of recent
achievements;t—all united in producing those acts of injustice and
oppressive domination, which alarmed the jealousy of neighbouring
states and gave rise to the Peloponnesian war.
. * The desire for furnishing employment for restless spirits seems to have been a
principal motive for Darius' Scythian expedition, and probably had its weight in
inducing him to undertake the war with Greece.
+ The extravagant ambition of Athens is ascribed by her comic poet to the vanity
occasioned by her past exploits. “A thousand cities pay tribute to Athens: were
each ordered to furnish subsistence for only twenty Athenians, twenty thousand of
us might live in ease and luxury, in a manner worthy of the dignity of the republic,
and the trophies of Marathon.”—Aristophanes.
# A modern French writer correctly describes the conduct of Athens at this
period, in the following words:—“Towns taken and pillaged without remorse, the
15
To recite all the instances of barbarity and treachery by which
this war was distinguished would be to transcribe the greater part
of Grecian history. Among the most prominent are the execution
of the conquered Plataeans, by the Lacedæmonian commissioners;
the decree of the Athenians against Mitylene, the massacre of
the Corcyreans under the sanction of Eurymedon the Athenian
admiral, and the murder of the Scionaºans. It was customary
with the Lacedaemonians wherever they fell in with the merchant
ships of the Athenians, or even of their allies among neutral
republics, to put the crews indiscriminately to death.*
For a short time the power of Athens appeared to be only
augmented by opposition; but the animosity of her enemies in-
creasing in proportion to the arrogance she displayed, a transient
interruption of the contest was succeeded by redoubled hostilities;
her ambitious interference in Sicily terminated in disgrace and
misery, and was followed by the revolt of her maritime depen-
dencies. Successive struggles ensued, until Athens—the proud,
the victorious—lay humbled in the dust. Sparta rose upon the
fallen fortunes of her rival; similar prosperity was attended by
similar effects; the degrading tyranny exercised by Lacedaemon
over her allies excited universal indignation; a general confede-
racy was formed against her, and she saved herself from impending
destruction only by the peace of Antalcidas;—a measure that
involved all Greece, and conceded to the Persian monarch that
sovereignty over the Greek colonies in Asia, which it had been a
primary object of the first Persian war to wrest from him.t. With
returning power the disposition to tyrannize displayed itself as
usual, and the despotism of Sparta at Thebes gave rise to a
revolution, and general war. The latter terminated in the battle of
Mantinea, and left behind it, according to contemporary historians,
nothing but increased trouble, indecision, and confusion through-
out Greece. The depressed condition to which her rivals had
people forced to pay contributions, the rights of neutral powers violated, and
other republics obliged by the Athenians to combine with them against states which
bad given them no offence, to produce a war; insolence and injustice carried to the
highest pitch; the Athenians treating the ambassadors of other nations with marked
contempt, and openly asserting that they knew no other right than force.”—
Chateaubriand.
* Mitford. + Rollin. † Xenophon.
16
reduced themselves by mutual contention, left Athens once more
in the ascendant, and aroused that ambitious spirit which repeated
disgraces had been insufficient to quell. The Social war ensued;
it lasted two years, and ended by a treaty wherein every object
for which the war had been undertaken on the part of Athens was
abandoned, and that haughty republic received the seal of her
degradation in the enforced relinquishment of her long-cherished
claim of supremacy over her maritime allies.* . . . .
The event of the battle of Mantinea, the glory of which accrued
principally to Thebes, was to no other nation of Greece perhaps
so effectually disastrous.f. It awakened revenge and avarice,
which, mingling with the ever-active desire of aggrandizement, led
to measures that in a short time plunged all the Grecian republics
into the Sacred war. Thebes was the principal sufferer; but
the circumstances of the contest opened a way for the interference
of Philip of Macedon in the affairs of Greece. The unprincipled
ambition of the Athenians afforded a fair pretext for the farther
prosecution of his designs; weakness and distraction of interests
arising from long continued dissensions prepared the ground for
the conqueror; the battle of Chaeronea was fought, and Greece
deprived of her liberty for ever. She sunk under the dominion of
Alexander; became the spoil of his generals; and the scarce-
resisting prey of imperial Rome. The Roman yoke was exchanged
only for that of different tribes of barbarians, until, about the
middle of the fifteenth century, she found a melancholy repose in
the stability of the Ottoman empire. Such were the ultimate
consequences of the celebrated triumphs of Greece | Such were
* The Oration on Peace delivered by Isocrates upon this occasion contains
passages worthy of notice, as it shows that there were men, even in those days,
who were capable of discerning the real tendency of war, and of appreciating
the true means of promoting the prosperity of states. “Peace should be made, not
only with the Chians, but with all mankind. Opportunity is abundantly open for
increasing the power and wealth of the republic in better ways” than by war.
“Colonies might in many parts be established, as many have been, without injury
to any, and this would better become those ambitious of being esteemed the first
people of Greece than what is now the favourite purpose, to be eminent by making
continual war with hired troops. Far from such extravagance, it should be our care,
not only to make peace but to maintain it. But this will never be, till we are per-
suaded that quiet is more profitable than disturbance, justice than injustice, the care
of our own than grasping at what belongs to others.”
† Continuation of Goldsmith's Roman History.
*
****
17
the fruits of the spirit fostered by martial enterprise! Yet poetry,
oratory, and philosophy, all the arts which expand the intellect
and refine the taste of civilized men, were, it is urged, carried
to their highest pitch of excellence during the period of warlike
turbulence. — They were: but not in consequence of that turbu-
lence; or why did not Thebes and Lacedaemon partake the glory?
Why have not other nations, equally brave and equally warlike,
risen to the same eminence with polished Athens? Why—ex-
cepting that causes remote from military excitement, — natural
susceptibility, a situation advantageous for commerce, &c. con-
tributed to place her there, and gave birth to poets and historians,
whose writings have spread the renown of victories which other
nations might have achieved, but have wanted the pen to proclaim.
The wars undertaken professedly for the sake of liberty ended in
the subversion of national independence ; while the labours of
imagination and intellect have extended their benefits to the
“barbarous” tribes of a distant age; — benefits alloyed, however,
by the results of that fatal connexion of ideas, which has led men to
crown with undistinguishing admiration, the trophies of Grecian
literature and the achievements of military violence.
- Having reviewed the wars of republican Greece, the victories
of Alexander next claim our attention. The object of this far-famed
conqueror, whenever it went beyond the mere gratification of personal
vanity, appears to have been the security and extension of his here-
ditary dominions. The arms of the Macedonians diffused, indeed,
over Asia and Egypt the language and learning of Greece;” but the
career of the victor was cut short by an untimely death, his empire
was broken up, his posterity destroyed; while his native kingdom,
Macedon, invaded on every side, and long exposed as a prey to the
strongest, finally became the possession of another family. Like the
equally celebrated hero of a subsequent age, Julius Caesar, the advan-
tages he conferred by his conquests were undesigned and contingent;
their evils recoiled upon himself, and his country.
The leading events of the history of Rome, having already been
briefly reviewed in a former essay,t will not here be noticed in
* Bossuet.
f See “An Examination of the Principles, which are considered to support the
Practice of War,” p. 11.
|B
18
º
detail. A few remarks only will be hazarded on the ultimate
consequences of her unexampled military success. From the de-
struction of Carthage the real prosperity of Rome began to decline.
Her power had risen to such an height that re-action became
inevitable: the change which had taken place was too rapid to
be permanent.
The fierce and bloody struggles of her triumphant generals, the
moral corruption and stagnation of industry which necessarily
accompany the sudden acquisition of unearned wealth, were the
inevitable precursors of that worst of tyrannies, a military despotism.
Her foreign possessions continued to increase, but the spring of
domestic energy was gone. “Exhausted by her conquests, and
poisoned by the fruits of her own rapacity,” she yielded an igno-
minious submission to the very troops whom she had been compelled
to employ for the preservation of her unwieldy dominions, and ter-
minated her political existence in a miserable subjection to the
numerous tribes of barbarians whom her wealth and indolence had
attracted to the division of spoil. With respect to the influence of
the Roman government upon the interests of conquered nations, it
has been observed, that the unlimited extent of her sway was far
from producing a state of happiness, or being favourable to the im-
provement of mankind at large. Like that of all other great empires,
the dominion of the Romans degraded and debased the human
species.t The armies of the republic crushed in Italy and Greece
more germs of civilization than they ever planted on the face of the
earth;f and the vast despotism of the Caesars, gradually effacing all
national peculiarities, and assimilating remotest provinces to each
other, augmented the evil.$ Society fell into a state of unparalleled
stupefaction. “ Thus it existed for nearly a thousand years, without
making one great discovery in science, or producing one book which
is read by any but curious inquirers.”|| -
On the ruins of the empire of Rome was founded, after the lapse
of three or four centuries, the wide-spreading monarchy of Charle-
magne. The ambition of this prince, availing itself of those pretexts
for which ambition is seldom at a loss, and unrestrained by any
* Campbell—Lectures to the Students at Glasgow.
i Robertson—Introduction to Charles V. f Campbell's Lectures.
§ Edinburgh Review. | Ibid.
I9
scruples of justice or humanity,” enabled him not only to reduce the
whole of France under his own jurisdiction, but to render himself
master of the northern provinces of Spain, and the greatest part of
Italy, Germany, Hungary, and Poland. Scarcely, however, were the
ashes of the conqueror cold in his grave, than the quarrels of his suc-
cessors, each anxious to have the sole enjoyment of such extensive
power, overset the political system he had spent his life in building
up, dismembered his mighty empire, and brought about the destruc-
tion or misery of nearly every individual of his surviving family.
France itself, deluged with the blood of civil commotion, was at the
same time laid open to the ravages of those piratical nations whom,
in attempting to subdue, Charlemagne had only inspired with fresh
vigour and animosity. “Perhaps,” says Gibbon, “in his expedition
beyond the Rhine and Elbe, he aspired to save his monarchy from the
fate of the Roman empire, to disarm the enemies of civilized society,
and to eradicate the seed of future immigrations. But it has been
wisely observed, that in a light of precaution, all conquest must be
ineffectual unless it could be universal; since the increasing circle
must be involved in a larger sphere of hostilities. The subjugation
of the Germans withdrew the veil which had so long concealed the
continent or islands of Scandinavia from the knowledge of Europe,
and awakened the torpid courage of their barbarous natives. The
fiercest of the Saxon idolaters escaped from the Christian tyrant to
their brethren of the North : the Ocean and Mediterranean were
covered with their piratical fleets, and Charlemagne beheld with a
sigh the destructive progress of the Normans, who in less than seventy
years precipitated the fall of his race and monarchy.” The pacific
measures of this prince's reign; his encouragement of literature,
agriculture, and commerce, were the only truly glorious features of
his policy, and might have proved permanently beneficial to France,
had not their effects been neutralized by the consequences of his
military undertakings.
The celebrated expeditions of the Crusades form the most remark-
able-feature in the next succeeding era of European history. The
* Few despots have stained their career with deeds of more enormous cruelty.
Four thousand Saxons who refused to submit to his yoke were butchered in one day.
On the occasion of a subsequent revolt, besides ravaging the country with fire and
sword, he decimated all the inhabitants in cool blood.
# Morden—Universal History.
B 23
20
famatical phrenzy by which they were prompted can meet with so
little sympathy in the present day, and the utter failure of their im-
mediate objects, as well as their disastrous results to the parties en-
gaging in them, are so generally known, that a few observations on
the origin and tendency of these extraordinary enterprises will suffice
for the present purpose. Religious enthusiasm, though the first, was
probably not the only nor the most permanent principle of the
crusades. The love of plunder, the desire of conquest, the honours
and immunities that were so liberally bestowed upon all who bore the
sacred sign of the cross, had no doubt their full share in animating the
zeal of princes and nobles. In the issue—the impoverishment of the
chieftains extorted concessions of their power, rebellion at home pre-
sented a mournful contrast to trophies abroad, “ the estates of the
barons were dissipated, and their race often extinguished in the costly
and perilous enterprises of which they were the conductors.”
Indeed the diminished authority and influence of that very class by
whose restless ambition the crusades had been principally kept up,
are considered, by an eminent historian, as constituting, in fact, their
only beneficial result. “Some philosophers,” observes Gibbon,
“ have applauded the propitious influence of these holy wars, which
appear to me to have checked, rather than forwarded, the maturity of
Europe.” “The lives and labours of millions which were buried in
the East would have been more profitably employed in their native
country; the accumulated stock of industry and wealth would have
overflowed in navigation and trade, and the Latins would have been
enriched and enlightened by a pure and friendly correspondence with
he East.” The commerce of the Italian cities, though it received a
stimulus from the passage of the crusaders, did not originate with
them; for in the darkest and most barbarous periods, Venice already
carried on an extensive traffic both with Greeks and Saracens; and
the ardour of studious curiosity was awakened in Europe by different
causes and more recent events. “In the age of the crusades, they
viewed with careless indifference the literature of the Greeks and
Arabians. The principle of these wars was a savage fanaticism, and
the most important effects were analogous to the cause.” It is a
curious fact that these very expeditions, which were undertaken with
* Gibbon. - # Ibid.
21
.A.
the express design of rescuing Eastern Asia from the dominion of in-
fidels, in the event contributed materially to the establishment of a
Mahometan power in Europe. -
About the year 1202, an armament of crusaders took advantage of
the domestic seditions of Constantinople to besiege and pillage that
city: and although it was subsequently recaptured, yet the Greek
empire never recovered the blow it had thus sustained.* Her terri-
tories dismembered, her wealth and influence passed into other hands,
and the great Christian power of the East, helpless and almost un-
assisted, became an easy prey to the arms of her infidel invaders.
The annals of the dark and troubled period, usually denominated
the Middle Ages, are so crowded with scenes of bloodshed and disorder
as to render it difficult to select a few leading traits sufficiently distin-
guished from the general mass of confusion to arrest the attention of
the reader. War between man and man, city and city, nation and
province, ravaged at the same time every corner of Europe, and
presents an almost unmingled spectacle of violence and wretchedness.
Never has mankind at large been more miserable than when war was
most frequent and most honoured.—The greater part of these narra-
tives are now passed over by the mere general student with a single
superficial glance. And why is it so : Because nearly all the
desolating conflicts of pride and tyranny which they record failed
in producing any permanent visible effect, left no renown to their
authors, and were utterly inoperative to the ends proposed.
Among the wars of the middle ages which stand sufficiently promi-
ment to fall within the limits of this review are the national and civil
wars of Italy;-the struggles of Switzerland and Austria;-and the
chivalrous contests between England and France.
When the decline of the Carlovingian race left Northern Italy
once more arbiter of her own destiny, the independence of that
country was sacrificed to the quarrels of its princes.t. In consequence
of their dissensions, it became a prey to the ravages of the Hunga-
rians and Saracens, and exhibited, during the greater part of the
tenth century, the united horrors of intestine warfare and barbarian
* Hallam's Middle Ages.
+ Professor Miller's Philosophy of History, Hallam’s Middle Ages, Robertson's
Charles V., Sismondi's History of the Italian Republics, and the Universal History
have been the works principally consulted in the following sketch. 2
22
invasion. From these miseries, the Italians sought refuge in the inter-
vention of the German monarch ; and the result was the imposition
of a foreign yoke. The pretext for the celebrated war which took
place in the eleventh century between one of these sovereigns, Henry
the Fourth of Germany, and the Roman see, was afforded by the
event of a prior conquest, and originated in the following circum-
stances. The people of Saxony, although they had formerly given
rulers to Germany, were still regarded by the Southern part of the
nation as the inhabitants of a conquered province. Contempt and
oppression produced an insurrection among them; and the emperor
called in the pope to his assistance. The reigning pontiff eagerly
availed himself of so favourable a crisis to raise the famous dispute
concerning ecclesiastical investitures. Henry plunged into the con-
flict, which terminated, after thirty years of warfare, in his utter ruin
and degradation. The question was finally decided by a compromise,
in which neither party were apparently gainers, although, as it
afterwards appeared, the papal pretensions had, in fact, acquired
some ascendency. This struggle, while it gave the Italian cities an
opportunity of regaining in some measure their ancient independence,
left behind it the germ of those terrible factions which for three
hundred years kept Germany and Italy in perpetual agitation, and
ultimately caused the total subversion of liberty in the latter
country.* Scarcely had the states of Lombardy recovered a degree
of external freedom than their whole history becomes a confused
assemblage of mutual contentions. “They played over again the
tragedy of ancient Greece, with all its circumstances of inveterate
hatred, unjust ambition, and atrocious retaliation.”f The leading
cities subjugated or destroyed the inferior, while those of more equal
force carried on interminable and wasting hostilities. It was in one
of these instances of unprincipled spoliations that Frederic Barbarossa
found an occasion of reviving and prosecuting the claims of sove-
reignty, which during the preceding age seem to have been virtually
abandoned by the German emperors. The city of Lödi had been
* It is to the earlier struggles of the ninth century that St. Mare refers the origin
of the Guelf and Ghibelline factions. The argument remains of equal force, which-
ever hypothesis be adopted. By the former term, the supporters of the papal, by
the latter those of the imperial interest were designated.
+ Hallam.
23
razed by the Milanese, and its inhabitants subjected to an unrelenting
despotism. Two of them supplicated redress at the hands of
Frederic, who accordingly entered the north of Italy at the head of
a numerous army, captured the city of Milan, and allured or terrified
the remaining republics into submission. The height of Frederic's
military glory proved, however, the brink of his downfall. A com-
bination was formed against him: he suffered a decisive defeat in
the battle of Legano, and in 1183 was compelled by the treaty of
Constance to secure their customary rights and privileges to all the
states of Lombardy. But the permanent advantages of liberty were
unattainable by those whom continual hostilities had disqualified from
a right improvement of her blessings. In the earlier periods of the
Lombard republics, their differences had been frequently appeased by
the mediation of the emperors. The sudden loss of this influence
proved, in itself, no slight evil.” Moreover, the "nobles, inured to
martial habits, and having imbibed in the late wars a passion for
personal aggrandizement, exerted their superior force in acts of
irritating oppression against the commercial part of the population.
Each successive contest with Germany had also added fresh venom
to the fatal feuds of the Guelfs and Ghibellines, and contributed to
foster those seeds of civil discord which quickly sprung up into a
fatal harvest of blood and misery. For a short period, the energies
of a free government counterbalanced all these evils; but as internal
dissensions reached their height, every city became divided into oppo-
sing and remorseless factions. No mercy was shown by the victorious
party, and the vanquished, often forgetting their boasted patriotism,
called in on every side those whom they hoped to make the avengers
of their wrongs. The loss of freedom itself appeared to their exas-
perated passions a trivial misfortune when compared with the ascen-
dency of an adversary. Most of the principal stateshad, in consequence,
by the middle of the fourteenth century, submitted to the sway of
some petty tyrant ; while the smaller republics, having sought protec-
tion and the means of retaliation in the aid of their more powerful
neighbours, gradually sunk into dependence and hopeless servitude.
Milan, once conspicuous in asserting the claims of public liberty, was
among the first and the most degraded of the former class. Pisa had
* Hallam.
24
early risen to opulence and distinction by her commercial activity.
But, from a spirit of petty rivalry, she became engaged in a series of
wars with Genoa, until, at the battle of Meloria, in 1284, her navy was
totally destroyed, eleven thousand of her citizens taken prisoners, and
her maritime empire annihilated. Despoiled of her political impor-
tance, she became a prey to successive tyrants, and was at last laid
prostrate at the feet of Florence. The prosperity of her enemies was,
however, so far from being augmented by their triumph, that the
slavery of Pisa, by depriving Italy of the commerce of one of its most
flourishing states, proved a general misfortune to the country; and
to Florence, the acquisition of this and many other apparently va-
luable prizes served only to diminish her internal resources, and to
create a source of perpetual weakness and alarm.” In the meantime,
the power and arrogance assumed by Genoa after the humiliation of
her rival, contributed to awaken the jealously of Venice, and led to a
long course of sanguinary wars, by which both parties were at last so
exhausted as to be willing to accept the mediation of the Duke of
Savoy. - At the peace thus negotiated in 1381, Genoa obtained only
the isle of Tenedos, one of the original subjects of dispute, and but
a poor indemnity for her losses; while Venice was obliged to surrender
the greater part of her territorial possessions to the king of Hungary.
Indeed that prince and Francis Carrara were the only gainers by the
event of the late protracted quarrel. From this epoch may be dated
the decline of Genoa; her navy dwindled into insignificance, her
commerce went to decay, and the fifteenth century was (until modern
times) the most ignominious period of her annals.
Through a series of similar occurrences, the smaller states of Italy
were gradually swallowed up by the larger. The number of those
who had an interest in the prosperity of their common country was
thus continually diminished:f the inhabitants of the conquered pro-
vinces, no longer concerned in the preservation of liberty, were
disposed to revolt at the first appearance of danger, or even to
welcome the prospect of a more distant master. Thus prepared,
Italy presented in the fifteenth century a fitting theatre for the con-
tentions of transalpine powers. The fertility of her soil, the mildness
of her climate, and the peculiar inducements to commercial enterprise
* Sismondi. # Ibid.
25
afforded by her geographical situation, had enabled her, earlier than
any of the other states of Europe, to recover from the disastrous
effects of barbarian invasion ; while the freedom bequeathed to her by
the weakness of her oppressors had contributed to exalt her to a
station of intellectual and political eminence. But all these advan-
tages had been offered up to the demon of war, and national indepen-
dence was the consummation of the sacrifice. The beautiful plains
of the Adige and the Po were for half a century ravaged by the
armies of the stranger, and long ages of suffering and degradation
have been the fruit of those sanguinary struggles which once formed
the glory and boast of the Italian republics.
In reviewing the early history of Switzerland, we enter upon
ground long held sacred to the cause of liberty and patriotism. May
it be approached with no intention of depreciating those inestimable
blessings, or of attempting to palliate the guilt of oppression At a
period when all Europe was convulsed by the struggle between feudal
claims on the one hand, and the awakening spirit of freedom on the
other, the inhabitants of Switzerland would have been more than
human had they risen above the sentiments of their age, and opposed
tyranny with no other arms than those of moderation, justice, and
invincible resolution. Yet, to a practical application of the lessons
of history it is absolutely necessary to discriminate between actions
which, both in their motives and tendencies, demand our unqualified
approbation, and others, which, though interwoven with the same
events, may nevertheless be of a totally opposite character. It will
be seen that the ammals of Switzerland occasionally exhibit instances
of generosity and noble endurance, which, from the nature of their
results, afford a fair presumption of the beneficial consequences that
might have ensued from a more extended application of the same
principle ; but it must also be observed whether the various wars in
which the nation engaged during the period under examination were,
in fact, simply defensive and indispensable to the preservation of
their liberty, and whether even those in which there existed the least
provocation on their side were not in the end productive of the usual
permicious effects upon the morals and interests of the successful
party.
As far as regards the House of Austria, there can be no dispute
concerning either the character or consequences of these wars. They
26
began in an undue thirst of dominion, and invariably terminated in
mortification, disgrace, and merited discomfiture.*
The early rise of liberty among the Swiss can be attributed to no
cause so probable as to the exemption which their mountainous
situation afforded from the conflicts which, after the fall of the
Roman empire, desolated the rest of Europe.t Hence the middle
classes were not kept down by the depressing influence of the feudal
system, and the military services with which it was connected. The
true conservative principle of the freedom thus acquired, was exem-
plified in the simple firmness of some shepherds of Schwitz, who, in
1144, refused to yield their native right of pasture to the encroach-
ments of the monks of Einsidlen. These peasants remained unmoved
under the ban of the empire, and the excommunication of the church,
continuing to trade with the neighbouring cities and to tend their
cattle as before, unaided and undaunted. About the year 1307,
Albert, Duke of Austria and Emperor of Germany, not satisfied with
the allegiance which the people of the Waldstetten rendered him as
head of the empire, formed a project of uniting those cantons, together
with his own feudal territories, into an hereditary appanage of his
family. In order to subdue opposition, instead of commissioning, as
had been usual, an imperial governor of rank to act as their judge in
criminal cases, he sent them two of his inferior dependents, who
endeavoured by every species of oppression to vanquish the in-
flexibility of the mountaineers. A spirit of resistance was excited,
and remonstrance proving vain, a small band of the injured natives
assembled to concert the means of redressing their grievances. On
this memorable occasion, it was unanimously resolved that “the
counts of Nassbourg should be deprived of none of their lands, vassals,
or prerogatives, and that their bailiffs, their officers, and attendants
should not lose a single drop of blood.”f One exception alone
occurred to the fulfilment of their determination ;-the assassination of
Gesler by William Tell, and this action, however held up to the
applause of subsequent ages, was condemned at the time by many
of his own friends, as at once culpable in itself, and materially
* The biographer of the House of Austria mentions several of its princes who
died in a state of hopeless despondency in consequence of the failure of their am-
bitious projects.-Coale’s Memoirs of the House of Austria.
+ Mackinnon's Essay on Public Opinion.
† Planta's History of the Helvetian Confederacy.
27
endangering the success of their cause. Landenburg, the colleague of
Gesler, was afterwards seized with all his châtelains, and carried to
the frontier under an injunction never to return. The death of
Albert, inflicted by his own relations and adherents, in revenge for
his unjust encroachments upon their privileges, providentially inter-
cepted any designs of vengeance he might have entertained.” His
successor in the imperial throne, Henry of Luxembourg, admiring the
forbearance that had been displayed by the Swiss, treated them with
distinguished favour, granted an ample confirmation of their sole
dependence upon the empire, and exemption from all foreign juris-
diction.
It was, however, to be expected that the House of Austria would
watch for the first pretext for prosecuting their schemes of un-
principled ambition. This pretext was unfortunately furnished by
the Swiss themselves. A quarrel broke out between the people of
Schwitz and the monks of Einsidlen.t The former, not content with
repelling the insults they had received, and obtaining a conciliatory
award from the emperor, adopted measures of retaliation. Shortly
after this occurrence, there arose" a contest for the imperial dignity
between Frederic of Austria, and Louis of Bavaria. The majority of
the Swiss cantons zealously took part against their ancient enemy,
although that neutrality was in their power is evident from the
example of Berne. Leopold, brother to the Duke of Austria, was
also advocate to the abbey of Einsidlen, and availing himself of the
double plea thus afforded, he attacked the Swiss with a considerable
force. The battle of Morgarten ensued, and the cause of indepen-
dence was triumphant; but the Swiss appear to have gained nothing
by the contest, besides a confirmation of privileges they already
possessed. Among the various hostile operations which succeeded
the battle, one circumstance is related which strikingly illustrates
the natural tendency of generous and pacific dispositions, even when
exercised towards an enemy. Soleure having embraced the cause
of Louis, was besieged by Duke Leopold, when a sudden inun-
dation of the river endangered the lives of a number of his men.
Immediately the inhabitants, forgetful of all hostile considerations,
* Simond's Switzerland. † Planta.
# Coxe's Memoirs of the House of Austria,
28
put off in boats, and rescued the sufferers. The Duke was so touched
by this instance of magnanimity, that he requested to be received
into the town, and agreed to conditions of peace. None of his wars
ever terminated so much to his advantage.*
Successive acts of oppression on the part of the Austrian government,
led to a defensive confederacy among several of the Swiss cantons.
Some of these cantons pursued their object by measures the most
moderate and pacific. In others, the cause of liberty was disgraced
by injustice and bloodshed. The results were in general exactly
correspondent with the character of their origin. Lucerne, injured
in her commerce and population by forced contributions to the mili-
tary expeditions of Austria, sought admission into the confederacy;
but made, at the same time, a reservation of all the lawful prerogatives
of the House of Austria. The Dukes Albert and Otho were so favour-
ably inclined by the spirit of justice displayed in this transaction, that
they not only abstained from any hostile attempt, but even consented
to general pacification, during which all matters relating to the
cantons were to be amicably adjusted. Zurich, on the contrary,
acquired her independence through the instrumentality of a ferocious
demagogue, and sealed it by a treacherous attack on the neighbouring
town of Rapperschwyl, thus wantonly drawing upon herself the re-
sentment of the duke. He accordingly invaded Switzerland; several
severe conflicts took place; and Zurich, the primary cause of the war,
not only deserted her allies, but entered into dishonourable engage-
ments with the House of Austria. An armistice was at length
mediated, and Albert died shortly afterwards, being reduced by the
failure of his ambitious projects to such a state of despondency that his
family were obliged to forbid the name of a Swiss being mentioned in
his presence. The next open rupture with Austria took place in
1385. It originated principally in the arrogance of the house of
Hapsburg, but was not entirely unprovoked on the part of the Swiss.t
* Simond. -
+ The jealousy of Leopold appears to have been excited by the proposed league
with the Suabian cities, to which Zurich, Berne, Zug, Soleure, &c. acceded, while the
Forest Cantons more prudently declined the measure, alleging, that it was contrary
to the fundamental principle of their union to involve themselves in the quarrels of
others. About the same time the people of Zurich, probably for some remains of
their former enmity, seem to have projected a surprise of the town of Rapperschwyl,
at that time dependent upon Austria.
29
Various disputes, in which the confederates thought themselves
obliged not only to repel, but to take vengeance for the insults offered
to their co-burghers,” contributed to exasperate the animosity of both
parties. The battle of Sempach ensued, in which the courage and
local advantages of the Swiss proved as usual more than a match for
the erroneous tactics and burdensome armour of their opponents.t
This memorable victory did not, however, put an end to the contest,
which was continued in a desultory warfare. The Swiss took
several castles, threw some of the garrisons over the battlements, and
plundered the neighbouring abbeys. They also thought it necessary,
as a measure of precaution, to capture the Austrian town of Wesen,
an event which, in its consequences, led to another invasion of their
enemies, and occasioned the battle of Hoefels. In 1414, a truce for
fifty years was concluded with the House of Austria.
Hitherto the people of Switzerland had acted comparatively on the
defensive. But the military spirit, which had been cherished by their
repeated successes, had already begun to manifest its usual tendencies.
A passion for conquest arose ; happily, however, for Switzerland,
restricted in its operation by the flourishing condition of surrounding
states. Three years after the conclusion of the truce with Austria,
Duke Frederic was excommunicated, and the Emperor of Germany,
availing himself of the long-standing animosity of the Swiss against
the head of the House of Hapsburg, invited them to seize upon his
dominions. The acquisition of so rich a prize was of course esteemed
at the time highly advantageous to the cantons; but, by sowing the
seeds of dissension among them, it proved in the end a source of
misfortune and degradation. Discontents sprung up concerning the
division of the spoil, and those of the cantons which had acquired
new subjects were generally involved in disputes with them. A
consciousness of military strength made the whole nation impatient
and restless, and involved the different cantons, on the most trivial
occasions, in frequent and bloody struggles with each other.S The
* Planta. - + Simond. -
# The late vassals of the duke, finding that they had gained nothing by the
transfer of their allegiance, rebelled against their aristocratic masters; and the burghers,
in many instances, sought to support their own arbitrary measures by alliances with
those very nobles whose power they had so long aimed at reducing.
§ Zurich even called in the armies of France and Austria to assist in one of her
quarrels.
30 ~.
next general war in which the Swiss engaged, was against Charles
the Bold, duke of Burgundy, which, while it raised their military
reputation to the highest pitch, proved most unfortunate in its effects
upon the morals and happiness of the nation.* The insults of one
Hagenbach, a creature of the Duke's, appear at last to have provoked
Berne and Friburg to measures of retaliation. Charles, infatuated
with ambition, attacked the confederate cantons, who were encou-
raged in the war by the concurrence of Duke Sigismond, of Austria,
and by large bribes from the king of France, each of whom had his
own political purposes to serve.† Having defeated the Duke of Bur-
gundy, the victorious Swiss possessed themselves of the towns of his
allies, massacring the garrisons in cold blood, and, in one instance,
putting to death their own executioner for having suffered some of
the destined victims to escape. The Duke of Burgundy became
irrecoverably deranged in consequence of the mortification attending
the failure of his schemes, in the mad prosecution of which he finally
perished; while the Swiss, suddenly enriched by plunder, neglected
the pursuits of industry, and multitudes of every class hastened to
enrol themselves in foreign service. Habits of predatory warfare
filled the land with vices of the grossest kind ; fifteen hundred persons
are stated to have perished by the hand of the executioner in the
course of a single year.; The noted prowess of the mountaineers
caused them to be eagerly sought after as the instruments of ambition.
They were successfully engaged by the Pope against Milan, and by
Charles VIII. in his Italian wars, where their love of fighting was
continually fostered by the reputation it procured them. About
1495, they entered, without any apparent motive, into a most bloody
and remorseless civil war, in the course of which six great battles
were fought; the country about Constance was laid waste, and the
houseless and starving inhabitants were reduced, in the midst of a
hard winter, to seek shelter in the woods.S The armies of Switzerland
were afterwards engaged by Louis XII. in his expedition against
Milan, upon which occasion they appropriated to themselves such
parts of the conquered territory as they were able to seize: this
conduct gave rise to a quarrel with their employer, and turning
their arms against him, they fought the battle of Hovarra, where
* Simond. + Philippe de Comines. # Simond. § Ibid.
31
they lost more than a quarter of their force. They continued how-
ever to enter more and more into the disputes of foreign powers; and
bodies of Swiss troops occasionally found themselves arrayed against
each other on the same field of battle. The excess of wealth acquired
in the Italian wars, added fresh fuel to the factions by which the
country was already distracted. All parties, equally covetous of
aggrandizement, were equally disappointed and soured at every
reverse; and had not their downward progress been intercepted by
the new spirit awakened at the Reformation,” Switzerland would
probably have reaped the harvest of her military achievements in the
ruin of the nation. Such is the natural tendency of even the most
justifiable wars.
We now come to a portion of history which was formerly regarded
by the English nation as among the most brilliant in her annals; how
correctly, let a view of the facts decide.
The wars of every different age and country are marked by a cha-
racter corresponding with the state of society in which they were
carried on. Those between England and France, in the fourteenth
and fifteenth centuries, present the most striking exemplification of
the system of chivalry. They show how little the boasted honour
founded in military institutions, was regarded as incompatible with
the grossest instances of treachery, cruelty, and oppression. They con-
tain abundant evidence that love of gain was at least as powerful a
stimulus to martial enterprise as love of glory; that in fact, the
volunteer knight was as mercenary as the hired soldier, with this
difference alone—the soldier received a stipulated pay for his services,
and had the chance of booty. The knight depended partly upon his,
individual prowess in making prisoners, whose ransom formed his
wealth, and much upon his dexterity and cunning in finding oppor-
tunities for plunder.t
* Simond.
# The mixed motives of these military adventurers present a striking resemblance to
those of a certain class of heroes in our own day. Cunningham, speaking of the
bands of runaway convicts who infest the settlements of New South Wales, observes,
“The vanity of being talked of, I verily believe, leads many foolish fellows to join
this kind of life, songs being often made about their exploits, by their sympathizing
brethren, while the fame, such as it is, which they acquire, is enough to make many
restless spirits, who long for any species of immortality, venture considerable lengths to
attain it. It is the boast of most of them, that their names will live in the remembrance
of the colony long after their exit from among us.” One of their captains vaunted that
32
With respect to the justice of the claim which furnished Ed-
ward III. with a pretext for his attack upon France, it is sufficient to
observe, that even had his reasoning upon the Salique law been
well founded, namely, had the right to inherit the French crown been
transmitted through the female line, the Queen of Navarre had
a son, grandson to Louis X., who, upon that very principle, stood one
degree nearer to the succession than Edward.” But the fact is, that
neither Edward himself, nor any of his contemporaries, appear to
have been influenced by the smallest presumption of the justice
of his cause. A dispute having arisen respecting the nature of
the homage due from the King of England to Philip for the
duchy of Guienne, the former acknowledged, by the advice of
his counsellors, that it ought to have been liege homage, and
promised “faith, truth and loyalty,” accordingly. Robert of Artois,
whom Philip had banished for attempting to support his claim to the
county of Artois by forged documents, and who had been received
with favour and distinction by Edward, appears to have been the
chief instigator of the war, which was at last entered upon in the
spirit of an ill-grounded lawsuit, for the sake of taking the chance of
what might happen. The alliance of numerous powerful lords
was obtained, partly by the artful. excitement of private resent-
ments, partly by the liberal distribution of “a round sum of
florins,” both among principals and accessories; for they were
all, says Froissart, not only “very warlike,” but “men who
loved to gain wealth,” and who, upon the strength of such
inducements, readily agreed “to defy the King of France, and
to go with the King of England, whenever and wherever he
pleased.” As to the share which the conduct of the French mo-
march had in provoking hostilities, it is the remark of a judicious
“he should be long spoken of, whatever his fate might be, in fear by his enemies,
and in admiration by his friends.” It might puzzle a philosopher to draw the line of
distinction between the sentiments here described, and those which have insured the
applause of posterity to many celebrated warriors. It may however be admitted, that
the institution of Chivalry formed an intermediate step in the progress from barba-
rism to civilization. Let it also be granted that we are still but in progress, and that
the principle of improvement which, during the Middle Ages, rendered war somewhat
less ferocious than it had been at a preceding period, must, in its ultimate develop-
ment, tend to the entire destruction of those prejudices by which war in every form
is supported. -
* Hallam's Middle Ages
33
historian,” that Edward would probably not have undertaken the
war but for existing disputes with Philip about Guienne, and
had not that prince unjustifiably abetted Robert Bruce, in Scot-
land. It may be added, that the throne of France itself had
been originally acquired by the king's predecessor, Philip the Long,
through a most notorious act of treachery,-and that to the dis-
cussions which ensued on that occasion, Edward, it is likely,
owed the first suggestion of his present claims. Notwithstanding
the successes of the English monarch in the commencement of
the war, and the miseries which were inflicted upon France by
the ravages of his arms, he was content at the peace of Bretigni,
in 1360, to renounce for ever all title to the French crown,
as well as to the provinces of Normandy, Maine, Lorraine,
and Anjou, which had been possessed by his ancestors; and to
receive in exchange the right of holding, in full sovereignty, the
duchy of Guienne, and the lands he had conquered.t The con-
test was, however, revived in 1368, under the following cir-
cumstances. The Prince of Wales, having engaged in a war with
Henry of Castile, attempted to defray the expenses thus incurred by
the imposition of a hearth tax upon his newly acquired provinces of
Gascony and Poitou. The inhabitants of Gascony, who always hated
the English yoke, appealed against this exaction to Charles V. of
France. That king immediately resumed his ceded rights as lord
paramount, and attempted to justify his breach of faith by accusing
the English of having, on their part, been guilty of infringing the
treaty of Bretigni. It does not appear that there were any sufficient
grounds for this charge; but it was naturally to be expected
that the humiliation to which the French had been compelled to
* Hallam.
+ To these conditions, seemingly so disproportionate to his triumphs, he was in-
duced to accede by the representations of the Duke of Lancaster, “that his claim of
succession had not, from the first, procured him a single partizan in the kingdom,
while the continuance of those destructive hostilities had united every Frenchman in
the most implacable animosity against him; that the prolongation of the war, however
it might enrich the English soldiers, was ruinous to the king himself, who bore all
the charges of the armament without reaping any solid or durable advantage from it;
and that if the present disorders of France continued, that kingdom would soon be re-
duced to such a state of desolation that it would afford no spoil to its ravagers.”— Hume.
† Such seems to be the opinion of most of our historians. Froissart's Narrative,
however, may give rise to a diversity of sentiments, respecting the exactness with which
the English fulfilled their part of the treaty of Bretigni.
C
*
34
submit, would be endured only until they had recovered strength
for a renewal of hostilities. The war, thus originating, outlived
its authors, and when peace was at last concluded, in 1396, the
English were compelled to acquiesce in the resumption, by the
King of France, of a great part of the territory, and the most
important fortresses, which had cost them so dearly during the
preceding war.
But the evils of a struggle—provoked by bad faith on one
side, and wanton ambition on the other—were not yet at an end.
In 1415, the English demanded the full performance of the
articles of the treaty of Bretigni; and, upon the refusal of the
French, commenced that disastrous war, which, in its course,
reduced France to the brink of destruction, and terminated about
1450, in the impoverishment and accumulated disgrace of her
rival. The proximate consequences of this contest were misery
to the people, and mortification to the princes. England, per-
haps, suffered least, from not being the scene of contention; but
she was far from being totally exempted. The Scots, who were
in alliance with France, took advantage of the absence of the
English Sovereign and his nobles, to harass the borders with
perpetual incursions, destroying houses and churches, and fre-
quently putting to death, without distinction of age or sex, every
individual who fell into their hands.
The restless disposition which long habits of warfare had cherished
among the nobility and gentry, was continually prompting them to
wish for fresh military enterprises that might afford them an op-
portunity of repairing their losses, and may be ranked among the
exasperating causes of the bloody factions by which England was
afflicted during the reign of Henry the Sixth. “The very virtues
which a state of hostility promotes,” observes Hallam, in allusion
to the atrocities that characterized the wars of this period, “are
not proof against its long continuance, and sink at last into brutal
fierceness. Those laws of war which the courteous sympathies
of chivalry enjoined, were disregarded by a merciless fury. Garri-
sons surrendering after a brave defence were in numerous instances
put to death. Henry the Fifth excepted Alain Blanchard, a citizen
who had distinguished himself during the siege, from the capitulation
of Rouen, and ordered him to execution; and at the taking of a town
*
35
in Champagne, John of Luxembourg, the Burgundian general, stipu-
lated that every fourth and sixth man should be left to his discretion,
which he exercised by causing them all,to be hanged.”
To France, the evils which attended her struggles with England
were enormous. The country was throughout pillaged by bands
of military ruffians, and desolated by insurrections of the peasantry
of a most ferocious character. The latter appear to have been
occasioned by a desire of revenging upon the gentry the spoliations
sustained in consequence of the war. A famine of four years'
continuance, in the course of which many of the poor died of
hunger, augmented the distresses of the nation. The oppressive
gabelle, or tax upon salt, which was first imposed under Philip the
Long, was in 1355 renewed for the maintenance of the troops:
heavy taxes upon income and property, from which no class of persons
were exempted, were laid on at the same time. With a view to re-
press the disorders created by a state of protracted hostilities, Charles
the Seventh first introduced the system of standing armies; and a
still more important innovation, the imposition, by royal authority, of
a permanent tax for their maintenance, was tacitly submitted to by the
people, who were glad to purchase present relief and protection even
at the expense of their most valuable privileges.*
In Spain, the spirit that animated the wars of the fourteenth
and fifteenth centuries was considerably blended with that religious
enthusiasm which consecrated every act of cruelty towards infidels.
Ferdinand and Isabella triumphed in the success of their arms. The
heroes of Granada, and the adventurers of the Atlantic Ocean,
expelled the Moors from their seat in Europe, and nearly destroyed
the simple inhabitants of the newly-found regions in the opposite
hemisphere. But, to the forcible ejectment of the Moors may be
traced the decline of the arts, manufactures, and agriculture in Spain;
and the effects of her sanguinary rapacity in the West have been to
paralyze industry, to depress the rising energies of the nation, and
eventually to reduce her to a state of moral and political degradation
which awakens the indignation or pity of all who are interested in
her fate.
* For a brief view of the wars in which England has been engaged since the Revo-
lution of 1688, see “An Examination of the Principles which are considered to sup-
port the Practice of War,” p. 18–23.
36
On a general review of the wars of the middle ages, it will appear
that the majority of them were undertaken from the most contempti-
ble and worst motives imaginable. Sometimes in consequence of
court intrigues, sometimes to find occupation for the savage and
restless spirit of the barons, to whom they gave the means of Sup-
porting a larger number of followers at free quarters, and still more
commonly for the purpose of enabling the ruling power to obtain the
command of a military force, or to require extraordinary subsidies
from the nation.*
The effects of this system on the continent, where its operation
was long unrestrained, were to degrade the condition of all ranks
below the sovereign. The upper class, accustomed to follow their
kings to the wars, were kept in a state of dependence and poverty,
which was increased by the neglect that naturally took place during
their absence from home in the management of their private concerns,
and by the expense of living in courts or camps.
The enslaved and ignorant people bore all the privations and suf-
ferings which are the usual concomitants of military enterprises; if
they acquired habits of industry, these were quickly eradicated, either
by ideas of glory or conquest, or by the apprehension of invasion.
A flourishing middle class, in which the greatest proportion of intel-
lect and happiness will generally be found, could scarcely be formed
where perpetual wars not only checked all spirit of activity and com-
mercial enterprise, but rendered the accumulation of property so inse-
cure as to be scarcely worth obtaining.f The nature of that reaction,
by which Providence so often defeats the designs of ambition with its
own weapons, became however, sooner or later, visible in different
parts of Europe; and the machinery of mischief, which had hitherto
been wielded by the rulers of the earth to their own selfish purposes,
at last recoiled, in many instances, upon the heads of its contrivers.
The tyrannous dominion of the great nobles, which had had its basis
in conquest, was finally shattered by the excesses of that military
spirit through which it had been raised. The expensive wars under-
taken by monarchs for the aggrandizement of their power, created the
necessity for taxation. But taxation ultimately afforded a fulcrum of
resistance to their authority, and even in England helped to give rise
* Mackinnon. - # Ibid.
37
to the limitations of the royal prerogative. In France, the operation
of this counteracting influence was, from various causes, longer delayed.
But the extreme depression to which a long course of military policy
had reduced the middle classes, contributed to augment the violence
of the concussion. It came at last with the shock of an earthquake,
and the unrighteous ambition with which kings and princes had for
centuries laboured to build up the structure of their power, was
visited in a moment with the accumulated retribution of ages 1
Towards the close of the fifteenth century the warlike illusions of
chivalry, and the continual hostilities connected with the feudal sys-
tem, began to disappear before the advancement of science and art.
As the political relations of Europe became more complicated, war
was no longer the transitory ebullition of private passions, openly
aiming to enhance the wealth or fame of an individual. But its essen-
tial character remained the same, under all the various modifications
which the progress of society had imposed. Whether disguised
beneath the mask of religion, patriotism, or policy, selfishness was
still the predominant motive. The conquests of Charles the Fifth,
the wars of the League, the vain and destructive struggles for the
balance of power,<-these originating in a narrow and exclusive sys-
tem of commerce,—the bare-faced depredations of the Great Frederick,
and Catharine,—the mightier contests of our own day,+all these
open a wide field for investigation, which is calculated to yield results
the more important, as by an approximation to present times we
obtain a more accurate knowledge of details, and conclusions more
immediately applicable to the modern state of the world. But the
consideration of these later periods does not fall within the limits of
the present essay.
The greater part of the wars which have now passed under our
notice need little comment either as to the character of their origin,
or the evil tendencies of their results, in the first place to the weaker
party, but eventually to the prime authors of the mischief. In endea-
vouring to estimate the favourable or unfavourable influence of those
wars which have been undertaken for the cause of liberty, it will have
been observed that the sin of aggression is in most cases much more
equally divided than is commonly supposed; and that were even one
party perfectly just, it is not unreasonable to infer that both might
remain at peace. The most promising scions of freedom have in fact
38.
sprung from the successful pursuit of industry. The liberties of
Greece and Rome were not begun—but hazarded and finally lost by
their military achievements. After the downfall of the Roman
empire, the earliest symptoms of a free government and advancing
civilization in Europe were displayed, not among warlike nations, but
in commercial towns, which, from the effects of industry, (partially
checked indeed by occasional wars, but always flourishing most in
seasons of tranquillity) were induced and enabled to purchase their
privileges from whatever power claimed the right to grant them.*
It must be remarked that these blessings have been best maintained
by a union of forbearance and moral resistance;—that where violence
has been resorted to, the progress of liberty has been generally
impeded, and ambition supplied with the required pretext for aggres-
sion; and that war, even when comparatively defensive, -for it will
be difficult to find that which is strictly so,-always contains in itself
the germs of that domineering spirit which is by its very nature, as it
has invariably proved by the event, the destroyer of freedom. In what
does the internal security of rational and permanent liberty consist 2
In the strength of an enlightened public opinion. Where this requi-
site does not exist, liberal institutions, however excellent, in themselves
can never find an adequate basis to rest upon; and the attempt to
impose them by force will generally terminate in aggravated slavery.
True liberty is the result, not the cause, of the diffusion of information,
civilization, and moral principle throughout a community; and where
this diffusion is gradually taking place, the principles of a free govern-
ment will necessarily spring up, and despotism must fall by its own
weight. Now these blessings are mainly dependent upon the exten-
sion and prosperity of the middle classes of society, resulting from
the improvement of commerce and manufactures,-in fact, of all those
branches of industry which are emphatically termed the arts of Peace,t
and which can only be prosecuted with lasting advantage when free
from the vexatious restraints and burdensome taxes required by a
state of hostilities. In proportion therefore, to the cultivation of
pacific principles, will the cause of liberty and civilization be promoted
* See Mackinnon — to whose valuable work on Public Opinion the writer
of the present Essay is indebted for the basis of many of these concluding obser-
vations.
† Mackinnon,
º: 39
throughout the world; and wherever the remnants of barbarism so far
predominate over the dictates of a sound sense and justice as to pro-
voke to war, the diffusion of these benefits will be in a corresponding
degree retarded. As the operation of cause and effect is in most
instances reciprocal, it may be expected that wherever enlightened
sentiments obtain the ascendency in a country, that part of the com-
munity which will possess increasing influence in the management of
public affairs will be led to perceive the improbability that the most
brilliant success can make amends to the nation for the load of taxa-
tion, the interruption to commerce, the loss of blood and treasure,
that must be incurred by war.”
There remains, therefore, to the devoted admirer of liberty a field
for exertions more glorious than that on which heroes and conquerors
and self-styled patriots of former ages have reaped their bloody
harvest of renown. “He who by the teaching of uncorrupted
Christianity, by the enlightenment of public opinion, by the zealous
diffusion of magnanimous and purifying sentiments, contributes to
raise the spirit of the enslaved, to awaken the desire of knowledge in
the ignorant, to arouse the love of liberty” t in the degraded, does
more to promote the permanent well-being of his species than if,
sword in hand, he had overturned the thromes of the mightiest despots
on the face of the earth.
* Mackinnon. † Channing—On the Life of Napoleon.
F I N I S.
-->
PRINTED BY R. cI.AY, BREAD-STREET-IIILL, CHLAPSIDE.
Tract No. XI. of the Society for the Promotion of
Permanent and Universal Peace.
*-*--
REFLECTIONS
ON THE
C A LA M ITIES OF WAR,
SUPERIOR POLICY OF PEACE:
TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH
OF
A TREATISE “ ON THE ADMINISTRATION OF THE FINANCES
OF FRANCE,”
-- .* *.* : & - ºr
* : * * *.*.*.*.*
** ** f 24, 5 º' * *.- .
#. ºr 3 *...*
BY! M. NECKER.
*.
º
k
3.0 miſon :
PRINTED BY R. CLAY, BREAD-STREET-HILL, CHEAPSIDE ;
sold BY HATCHARD & son, PICCADILLY ; HAMILTON, ADAMS & CO,
PATERNOSTER ROW, BOOKSELLERS TO THE SOCIETY:
AND BY ALL OTHER BOOKSELLERS.
1831.
Price Threepence.
The object of THE SOCIETY for the PROMOTION of
PERMANENT and UNIVERSAL PEACE, is to print and
circulate Tracts, and to diffuse information tending to show that
War is inconsistent with the spirit of Christianity, and the true
tnterests of mankind; and to point out the means best calculated
to maintain Permanent and Universal Peace, upon the basis of
Christian Principles. Its labours are not limited by Local
attachments, nor circumscribed by Geographical Boundaries,
but eartend to the whole human race.
RoBERT MARSDEN, Esq. Chairman.
John Scott, Esq. Treasurer.
Rev. JAMES HARGREAves, Honorary Home Secretary.
Rev. THOMAs Wood, Honorary Foreign Secretary.
John BEVANs, Assistant Secretary and Collector.
*...* It is requested that all Communications may be forwarded
to the respective Officers of the PEACE SocIETY, directed to the
Depository, Star Court, Bread Street, Cheapside.
INTRO DUCTION.
As War, whatever form it may assume, and by whatever name it
may be called, is prohibited by the letter and spirit of the Gospel, so
the prosecution of it has been the scourge and curse of mankind.
The Committee of the Peace Society, in the Tracts they have pub-
lished, have proved the contrariety of all War to the moral precepts
of the Gospel. They have exhibited in their publications the crimes
and miseries which War originates in and by its subordinate agents,
and the permanent distress it inflicts on the community at large. An
exposure of the disappointment, the disquietude, anxiety and secret
remorse, it visits on the prime instigators and agents of this direst
plague of the human race, was only wanting to complete the argu-
ment. In the “Historical Illustrations, &c.” just published, and in
the following Reflections of M. Necker on War, the reader will find
this concluding argument graphically exhibited ; and if Kings and
Governments would wisely take for their guide the excellent Reflec-
tions of M. Necker, instead of the mistaken motions of ambition,
aggrandizement and revenge, they would find that the most stable
basis upon which they could build their glory and future fame, is
the cultivation of pacific relations with each other, by which they
would bring down upon them the blessings of their subjects for the
* “Historical Illustrations of the Origin and Consequences of War,” being No. X.
of the Series of the Tracts of the Peace Society.
A 2
4
prosperity and happiness that would, in consequence, be diffused
throughout their respective dominions.
Such is the object of this republication of the 34th and 35th
chapters of M. Necker's work, “On the Administration of the
Finances of France.” Justice to the author having induced the
Committee of the Peace Society to give the two chapters entire,
without mutilation, if there be a shade of an opinion that may ap-
pear not in perfect accordance with their belief of the unlawfulness
of all War, it does not, by this republication, receive their sanction.
June, 1831.
R. EFL ECTIONS
on THE
CAL AMITIES OF WAR.
With what impatience have I wished to discuss this subject'
How irresistibly has my heart been led to expatiate on the evils
which are ever attendant on this terrible calamity War, alas !
impedes the course of every salutary plan, exhausts the sources of
prosperity, and diverts the attention of governors from the happiness
of nations. It even suspends, sometimes, every idea of justice and
humanity. In a word, instead of gentle and benevolent feelings, it
substitutes hostility and hatred, the necessity of oppression, and the
rage of desolation.
The first idea that occurs to me, when I reflect on the origin of
most wars, is, that those great combinations of politics which have so
often kindled the torch of discord, and occasioned so many ravages,
have very seldom merited all the admiration that has been so lavishly
bestowed upon them. At least I might venture to say, that when a
state is arrived at an illustrious height of power, it is owing to
the want of a comprehension sufficiently extensive, and to an
incompetent knowledge of its resources, that continual anxieties
are entertained, and the duration of the public tranquillity made
to depend on such a variety of uncertain speculations. I might
even venture to observe, moreover, that in such nations it is a
6
real misfortune for the people, when, by a kind of imitative spirit,
their government has been accustomed to contemplate the strength
of states in those exterior connexions only, the texture and com-
bination of which form what is called political science. Then the
most subtle ideas concerning the balance of power become the
predominant principles, and incessantly engross the attention. Hence
arise those frequent wars of competition, of which the first renders
a second more probable; for in proportion as a state has been
weakened by a war, it is so much the more apt to become jealous
again; because the sensations of jealousy are excited only by
comparison; and, in a course of years, it is sometimes one power,
and sometimes another, that attracts political observation. Thus
the history of all ages exhibits nations incessantly endeavouring
to reduce each other to the same state of humiliation to which
they had themselves been reduced by their own political mistakes.
On the contrary, were every state to be sparing of its strength,
to cultivate a proper knowledge of its resources, and to render
them respectable by a wise administration, it would arrive, without
effort, to that height of superiority it is so anxious to attain.
I must likewise observe, that this kind of superiority is the only
one of which the relative consequences, if I may so express myself,
are universal. The triumphs of war exalt you, no doubt, above the
nation you may conquer; but as these triumphs commonly require
long efforts and great sacrifices, the exhausted state resulting thence,
necessarily alters the proportion which existed between your strength
and that of the great powers who were not engaged in your quarrel,
and whose prosperity increased under the protection of that peace
which they enjoyed.
In a word, it cannot be denied, that the height of greatness to
which a nation may arrive by the wisdom of its administration, is the
most commanding, and the most conducive to secure the respect of other
nations. These are much more jealous of the most insignificant acqui-
sitions which are proposed to be gained by war or negotiation, than of
that augmentation of greatness of which order is the foundation. And
this sentiment is natural; for that prosperity which originates in the
wise conduct of a sovereign, renders his virtues also more conspicuous:
exhibiting them, at the same time, as a security against any abuse
which he might make of his augmented power. -
7
Of late years, it has been for the sake of commerce in particular,
that such scenes of bloodshed have been recorded. Commerce, that
loose and indeterminate idea, adds new lustre to political speculations;
and the public opinion, excited by a word that indicates an universal
interest, is often misled itself in its decisions. I would fain ask
those, who, from such motives, are ever ready to be the advocates for
war, “Do you know the balance of the commerce of your country
Have you studied its elements : Have you sufficiently examined
whether the trade, in which you desire to participate, will increase
the national opulence P Do you well discern the causes and con-
sequences of that opulence Have you balanced the advantages you
expect from war, against the injuries which commerce will sustain
from the augmented rate of interest, occasioned by the multiplication
of the government loans, and the dearness of labour, which is a
necessary consequence of the increase of taxes 2 Are you certain,
that while you endeavour to obtain a new branch of commerce by
the sword, you may not lose another, either through that deference
which you will be obliged to pay to your ancient allies, or those con-
cessions that your new ones may require P In a word, are you suffi-
ciently acquainted with the whole extent of your present prosperity;
and have you formed an estimate of all the sacrifices which the very
end of your ambition may deserve * Nothing is more simple than the
word commerce in its vulgar acceptation ; nothing more complicated
when it is applied to the universality of exchanges, to the importance
of some, the inutility of others, the disadvantage of many; to political
views in short; to labour, taxes, and all the unexpected combinations
which war and great events produce. Deliberate and deep reflection
is necessary, then, before we determine to kindle the flames of a war
for a commercial advantage. And it ought never to be forgotten,
that in time of peace, a diminution of certain duties, a bounty on
some exportations, a privilege obtained from some foreign nations,
and many other advantages resulting from a wise administration, are
often of far greater value than the object which is proposed to be
gained by fleets and armies.
Nations, in their savage state, were actuated by blind and unruly
passions; and these passions have been softened in some measure by
the effect of civilization. But the multiplicity and confusion of dif-
ferent interests, which the ideas of money, commerce, national riches,
8
and the balance of power, have introduced, have become other causes
of hostility and jealousy; and as the science of government has not
improved in proportion to the contradictions it had to reconcile, and
the difficulties it had to overcome, mankind still enjoy but imperfectly
the change in their condition.
I would here submit to reflection, a consideration with which I
have ever been forcibly struck. Most governments appear satisfied,
if, at the conclusion of a bloody and expensive war, they have made
an honourable peace. Undoubtedly such a termination may satisfy a
state, which having been unjustly attacked, was reduced to the neces-
sity of repelling force by force. But that nation which might have
avoided the enmity of other powers by more circumspect proceed-
ings, and that also which has undertaken a war from mere political
speculations, cannot be ignorant, that an estimate of the advantages
which they derive from the treaty of peace, is not the only calculation
worthy of their attention. Each has also to consider what would
have been its situation at the period when the treaty was concluded,
if war had not interrupted the course of its prosperity.
Such comparisons might have been often useful to all the potentates
in Europe; and England in particular, might have received the most
important instructions from them: but, as it is not in my power to
enter into such an extensive detail, I shall confine myself to such
reflections as are applicable to France.
Let us suppose a war in which this kingdom should be obliged to
alienate from fifty to sixty millions of its annual revenue, (from
2,187,500l. to 2,625,000l. Sterling) in order to pay the interest of the
loans, which the preparations for war, the expenses of each campaign,
and the liquidation of debts, had rendered necessary; and let us next
take a cursory view of the different uses to which government might
have applied such a revenue, not only for the advancement of the national
happiness, but for the augmentation of the military force.
The distribution which I am going to make of this revenue does not
indicate my absolute opinion on the subject. But in a calculation of
this kind I would anticipate objections, by showing how the different
wishes that are formed in a monarchy, with respect either to happiness
or power, might have been perfectly accomplished.
In the first place I find, that with eighteen millions (787,500l. ster-
ling) of that annual revenue, the regimental companies might have
9
been completed to their full complement, and the army augmented by
50,000 infantry, and ten or twelve thousand horse. -
I find, in the next place, that two millions of that revenue,
(87,500l. sterling) which in time of peace would pay the interest
of a loan of forty millions, (1,750,000l. sterling) would have added to
our navy thirty men of war, and a proportionate number of frigates;
and this augmentation might have been maintained by four millions
yearly (175,000l.)—Thus we see twenty-four millions (1,050,000l.
sterling) of that revenue devoted solely to the military service.
Let us now apply the surplus to the various parts of administration,
and let us consider the result. -
With eighteen millions (787,500l. sterling) yearly, the price of
salt, might have been rendered uniform throughout the kingdom, by
reducing it one-third in the provinces of little gabels,” and two-thirds
in those of the great, and not increasing the charges of the privileged
provinces. -
With from four to five millions (from 175,000l. to 218,750l. sterling)
annually, the interior parts of the kingdom might have been freed
from all custom-house duties, without raising those levied on the
exports and imports of the kingdom, or carrying to account the im-
provements I suggested when treating on this subject.
With 2,500,000 livres, (109,375l. sterling) serving to pay the
interest of successive loans to the amount of fifty millions, (2,187,500l.
sterling) all the necessary canals might have been executed, that are
still wanting in the kingdom.
With one million more per annum, (43,750l. sterling) government
might be enabled to bestow sufficient encouragement on all the esta-
blishments of industry that can advance the prosperity of France.
With 1,500,000 livres (65,625l. sterling,) the sums annually des-
timed to give employment to the poor might be doubled; and while
great advantages would thus accrue to the inhabitants of the country,
the neighbouring communications might be multiplied.
With the same sum, the prisons throughout the kingdom might in
a few years be improved, and all the charitable institutions brought to
perfection.
*
And with 2,000,000 annually, (87,500l. sterling) the clearing of
the waste lands might proceed with incredible vigour.
* The gabel is an excise on salt.
10
These distributions amount to thirty-one millions, (1,356,250l.
sterling) which, joined to twenty-four millions (1,050,000l. sterling)
for military expenses, make together the annual revenue of fifty-five
millions employed as above (2,406,250l. sterling) a sum equal to that
which I have supposed to be alienated for the disbursements of the war.
The distributions which I have thus suggested, it is evident, may
be modified in many different manners; but it is sufficient to perceive
the immense advantages which this simple statement exhibits, whether
with respect to the strength and prosperity of the kingdom, or for the
assistance and solace of the indigent class of people.
This is not all : for if we estimate the diminution of commerce
which results from a war of five or six years’ duration, it will be found,
that the kingdom is deprived of a considerable increase of riches.
In fine, war, and the loans which it occasions, create a very sensi-
ble rise in the rate of interest. On the contrary, peace, under a wise
administration, would lower it annually, were it only in consequence
of the increase of specie, and of the influence of the stated reimburse-
ments. This successive reduction of interest is likewise a source of
inestimable advantages to commerce, agriculture, and the finances.
Let these effects be now compared with the advantages which a
fortunate war (and all wars are not so) would give to a kingdom arrived
at that height of prosperity by which France is now distinguished;
and let this comparison be made, not in a desultory manner, but by
the aid of reflection and science, and it will be found, for the most
part, that ten seeds have been sown, in order to gather the fruit of one.
Undoubtedly, with so many powerful means, a government may
expect, with great probability, to humble its rivals, and extend its
dominions. But, to employ its resources for the happiness of its sub-
jects; to command respect without the assistance and dangers of an
ever restless policy; this is a conduct, which alone can correspond to
the greatness of its situation; and which displays at once a knowledge
of its ascendancy and of the advantages to be derived from it. By
such a conduct a government imitates those beneficent rivers, whose
rapid current cannot be impeded, but which, in their majestic course,
encourage navigation, facilitate commerce, and fertilize the country
without injury and devastation.
It is not war, but a wise and pacific administration, that can pro-
cure all the advantages of which France may be yet in want.
11
The quantity of specie in the kingdom is immense; but the want
of public confidence very often occasions the greatest part of it to be
hoarded up.
The population of the kingdom is immense ; but the excess and
nature of the taxes impoverish and dishearten the inhabitants of the
country. In a state of misery the human species is weakened, and
the number of children who die before their strength can be matured,
is no longer in a natural proportion.
The revenue of the sovereign is immense; but the public debt con-
sumes two-fifths of it; and nothing can diminish this burthen but the
fruits of a prudent economy, and the lowering of the rate of interest.
The contributions of the nation, in particular, are immense ; but
it is only by the strengthening of public credit, that government
can succeed in finding sufficient resources in extraordinary emer-
gencies.
Finally, the balance of commerce in favour of the kingdom is an im-
mense source of riches; but war interrupts the current. Hence
results an important reflection; namely, that the nation which derives
the most considerable advantages from peace, makes also the greatest
sacrifices, whenever it renounces that state of quiet and prosperity.
What, then, would be the case, if, which cannot be avoided, we join
to all these considerations, the affecting representations of the cala-
mities inseparable from war : How would it appear were we to
endeavour to form an estimate of the lives and sufferings of men? And
as the speculations of the understanding are uncertain, and mere
reasoning is deficient often in that energy which is peculiar to the affec-
tions, we cannot too ardently wish, that the ministers of kings may
possess that deep sense of humanity which animates every thought.
Then, an examination into the motives that may determine the com-
mencement of a war, will appear to be the most serious of all deli-
berations: a sensible emotion will then affect all those who may be
summoned to this discussion : and, in the midst of a council, in
which endeavours might be used to influence the opinion of the
sovereign, the most upright of his servants might perhaps have the
courage to address him in this language:—
“Sire,
“War is the source of so many evils, it is so terrible a scourge,
that a gracious and discerning Prince ought never to undertake it but
12
from motives of justice that are indisputable; and it behoves the
greatest monarch in the world to give that example of the morality of
kings, which assures the happiness of humanity, and the tranquillity of
nations. Do not give way, Sire, to vain anxieties, nor to uncertain
expectations. Ah! what have you to fear, and what can excite your
jealousy 2 You reign over 26,000,000 of men. Providence, with a
bountiful hand, has diffused the choicest blessings through your em-
pire, by multiplying the productions of every kind, Your kingdom
acquires as much specie every year as all the rest of Europe collec-
tively taken. You enjoy immense revenues; and the prudent distri-
bution of them may enable you constantly to maintain fleets and
armies capable of commanding respect from the nations envious of
your power. The war to which you are advised, will cost you,
perhaps, eight or nine hundred millions (from 35,000,000l. to
39,375,000l. sterling); and were even victory every where to fol-
low your arms, you will devote to death, or to cruel sufferings, so
great a number of your subjects, that were any one, who could
read futurity, to present you this moment with the list, you would
start back with horror. Nor is this yet all: your people, who have
scarcely had a respite, you are going to crush with new taxes.
You are going to slacken the activity of commerce and manufactures,
those inestimable sources of industry and wealth; and, in order
to procure soldiers and seamen, the men accustomed to the cultivation
of the earth will be forced from the interior provinces, and a hundred
thousand families, perhaps, will be deprived of the hands that support
them. And when crowned by the most splendid success, after
so many evils, after so many calamities, what may you perhaps
obtain : An unsteady ally, uncertain gratitude, an island more than
two thousand leagues from your empire, or some new subjects in
another hemisphere. Alas! you are invited to nobler conquests.
Turn your eyes to the interior parts of your kingdom. Consider
what communications and canals may still be wanting. Behold those
pestilential marshes that ought to be drained, and those deserted lands
which would be cultivated on the first tender of support from govern-
ment. Behold that part of your people whom a diminution of taxes
would excite to new undertakings. Look, more especially, on that
other truly wretched class, who stand in immediate need of succour in
order to support the misery of their situation. In the mean time, in
13
order to effectuate so many benefits, a small part of the revenues
which you are going to consume in the war to which you are advised,
would perhaps be sufficient. Are not the numerous inhabitants of
your extensive dominions sufficient to engage your paternal love 2
And, if I may be allowed to say it, is not their happiness equal to the
greatest extent of good which it is in the power of a single man to
perform But if you are desirous of new subjects, you may acquire
them without the effusion of blood, or the triumphs of a battle; for
they will spring up in every part of your empire, fostered by the be-
meficent means that are in your hands. A good government multiplies
men as the morning dews of the spring unfold the buds of plants.
Before you seek, therefore, beyond the ocean, for those new subjects
which are unknown to you, reflect that, in order to acquire them,
you are going to sacrifice a greater number of those who love you,
whom you love, whose fidelity you have experienced, and whose hap-
piness is committed to your protection. What personal motive can
then determine you to war? Is it the splendour of victories for which
you hope P Is it the ambition of a greater name in the annals of
mankind P But is renown then confined to bloodshed and devas-
tation P And is that which a monarch obtains, by diffusing ease and
happiness throughout his dominions, unworthy of consideration
Titus reigned only three years; and his name, transmitted from age
to age, by the love of nations, is still introduced, in our days, in all
the eulogies of princes.
“Do not doubt it, Sire, a wise administration is of more value
to you than the most refined political system; and if, to such re-
sources, you unite that empire over other nations which is acquired
by a transcendent character of justice and moderation, you will enjoy
at once the greatest glory, and the most formidable power. Ah!
Sire, exhibit this magnificent spectacle to the world; and then, if
triumphal arches be wanting, make the tour of your provinces; and,
preceded by all the good you have diffused, appear surrounded by the
blessings of your people, and the ecstatic acclamations of a grateful
nation, made happy by its sovereign.”
Such is nearly the language of an honest minister, impressed with a
deep sense of the various duties of his station. I cannot believe that
such reflections would be foreign to political deliberations. At first,
they would be thought extraordinary, and the minister who were to
14
argue thus would not be allowed the views of an enlightened states-
man. But as Reason, also, has her dignity and ascendancy, the
minister who should acknowledge her authority, and who, devoid alike
of fear and of every selfish view, should dare to advance great truths,
might perhaps force his way through prejudice, or habitual ideas.
Ideas of this kind, I confess, have a most extensive influence, and
sometimes possess the mind to such a degree, that we become
strangers to the most natural sentiments. I cannot remember
without shuddering, to have seen the following statement, in an
estimate of the money requisite for the exigencies of war:
Forty thousand men to be embarked for the colonies . . . . . . 40,000
To be deducted one-third for the first year's mortality. . . . . . 13,333
Remainder 26,667
A clerk in office makes his calculation in cool blood. A minister,
on the perusal, has seldom any other idea than of the expense, and
turns with unconcern to the next leaf, to examine the result of the
whole.
How can one here refrain from indulging very melancholy sensa-
tions P Alas!... if by any law of nature unknown to me, mankind
deserved so much indifference, I should be very wrong to write, and
to be so earnestly solicitous for their welfare. I should be myself
but a vile heap of dust, which the wind of life agitates for a moment.
But I entertain a more exalted idea of our existence, and of the
spirit that informs it. I entertain a more exalted idea of the relative
impressions stamped by a divine hand, and which connect us all with
each other.
Citizens, it is observed, are indebted to their country. Undoubt-
edly: but it is government which regulates this debt; and, therefore,
the sacrifices which it requires are just or unjust, supportable or
dreadful, according to the wisdom of its deliberations.
Mankind, and the apologists for war, have, in every age, been ac-
customed to it. Certainly; and in every age also have storms destroyed
the harvests: the pestilence has spread around its envenomed breath;
intolerance has sacrificed her victims; and crimes of every kind have
desolated the earth. But Reason also has obstinately fought against
Folly; Morality against Vice; Art against Disease; and, the industry
of mankind, against the rigour of bad seasons. That barbarous
15
nations, condemned to want and wretchedness by their ignorance,
have been impelled to seek countries in which the progress of the arts,
and a variety of riches, promised them unknown advantages, is not to
be wondered at ; the motives for this invasion may be conceived,
whenever, by consent, the authority of reason and humanity is dis-
carded. But in our times, when the general perfection of industry,
and the knowledge of commerce, have rendered the enjoyments of
mankind more equal, wars seem to depend rather upon the particular
ambition of Princes, and the restless spirit of their councils.
But I hear it stated as a last objection that men delight in hazards,
and often seek them of their own accord. I allow it; and many, in
the career of danger, acquire distinguished affluence and honours.
But those who have no other compensation for their blood than the
most indispensable subsistence, if they are not enlisted in the service
by force, nor retained in it by discipline, are actuated by a sentiment
defined by example and opinion. But admitting that some men have
voluntarily placed themselves in a situation which they know to be
exposed to calamities, will the nature of these calamities be changed
by that consideration ? The ignorance of the vulgar is a protracted
minority; and in every situation in which they may be impelled by
circumstances, neither their first choice, nor their first impulse, is to
be considered in this argument. We must study their sentiments in
those moments when, distracted by a thousand excruciating pains, yet
still lingering in existence, they are carried off in heaps from the
fatal field in which they have been mowed down by the enemy: we
must study their sentiments in those noisome hospitals in which they
are crowded together, and where the sufferings they endure, to pre-
serve a languishing existence, so forcibly prove the value they set upon
the preservation of their lives, and the greatness of the sacrifice to
which they had been exposed : we ought also to study their senti-
ments in those moments in which, perhaps, to such a variety of woe,
is added the bitter remembrance of that momentary error which has
led them to such misery; we ought, more especially, to study their
sentiments on board those ships on fire, in which there is but a
moment between them and the most cruel death ; and on those
ramparts where subterraneous explosion announces, that in an instant
they are to be buried under a tremendous heap of stones and rubbish.
But the earth has covered them, the sea has swallowed them up, and
16
we think of them no more. Their voice, extinguished for ever, can
no longer arraign the calamities of war. What unfeeling survivors
are we! While we walk over mutilated bodies and shattered bones,
we exult in the glory and honours of which we alone are the heirs.
Let me not be reproached with having dwelt too long on these
melancholy representations. We cannot exhibit them too often; so
much are we accustomed, in the very midst of society, to behold
nothing in war and all its attendant horrors, but an honourable
employment for the courage of aspiring youth, and the school in
which the talents of great officers are unfolded ; and such is the effect
of this transient intoxication, that the conversation of the polite circles
in the capital is often taken for the general wish of the nation. Oh
ye governors, do not suffer yourselves to be deceived by this mistaken
voice. They, whose impulse you are so ready to follow, will be
astonished soon at your condescension; so shallow are their sentiments
and so little conformable, especially to their real interest To men
of an indolent turn, events, and novelty in course, are necessary.
After a long peace, they are impatient for the tumult of war, as we
sometimes see the shepherds of the mountains, tired with the unifor-
mity of the scene, long for a storm or tempest, that agitated nature
may exhibit a new spectacle to their eyes.
Nor should it be forgotten, that in the midst of the bustle of society,
the mind is set in motion by simple ideas only ; not having leisure to
enter into any deliberate discussions. Thus the hopes of success, the
splendour of a victory, and the humbling of a nation, of whose great-
ness we are jealous, these are the ideas that are seized with avidity;
but the magnitude of the expense, the happy and productive uses to
which that expense might have been applied, and alas ! must it be re-
peated P the death and destruction of those men, whose funeral pro-
cessions we do not behold; all those different considerations which
are necessarily connected with each other, are almost constantly dis-
regarded, or the impression which they leave is at least too fugitive.
It is the duty, therefore, of superior minds, whose reflections are
more enlarged and comprehensive, and who are guided by those two
great lights, thought and sensibility; it is their duty to offer, to
defend, to animate, if possible, those rational ideas that are propitious
to mankind. It is their duty to draw these ideas from that obscurity
in which they are involved, in order to invest them with their due
17
plendour and ascendancy. Nor is it less their duty, to avoid being
dazzled by the illusions of false glory, that they may reserve their first
homage for those general and beneficent virtues that, before all and
above all, are the tutelar genii of nations. For my part, far from regret-
ting that I have opposed, to the best of my abilities, those chimeras
that are subversive of the happiness of mankind, and of the true great-
ness of states; far from being apprehensive that I have displayed too
much zeal for truths that are repugnant to so many passions and pre-
possessions; I believe these truths to be so useful, so essential, and so
perfectly just; in a word, I am so deeply affected by them, that after
having supported them by my feeble voice in the course of my admi-
mistration, and endeavoured even from my retirement to diffuse them
wide, I could wish that the last drop of my blood were employed to
trace them on the minds of all.
And you, more especially, I invite to enforce those principles who
are peculiarly bound to do it, from the sacred character of your order,
and the rank you occupy in the church. Never forget that you are
ministers of peace; and when you are bestowing your benediction on
the banners, when you are consecrating victories and trophies, let your
heart be sensible above all to the miseries of mankind, and let your
eloquence recall them to the consciences of kings. Leave to the
world and its historians the care of celebrating the heroes of death and
vengeance; for in the tumult of destructive passions, pity sits best on
you. Endeavour to make the sovereign beloved for his virtues, and
his ministers for their wisdom ; but never adopt the language of cour-
tiers, when you speak in the name of Him, before whom all the
potentates of the earth are nothing.
The subject which I am now discussing is of importance to every
nation ; and it cannot be observed without pain, that war is not the
only cause that multiplies the calamities of mankind. Another cause
may be traced to that genius, absolutely military, which is sometimes
the effect and sometimes, the harbinger of war. Several States are
already converted, as it were, into a vast body of barracks; and the
stºecessive augmentation of disciplined armies increases taxes, fear, and
slavery, in the same proportion. In short, by an unfortunate reaction,
the excessive expenses which are occasioned by this unnatural situa-
tion, excite the desire to render them productive by conquests; and
in proportion as sovereigns succeed in extending their dominions
B
18
despotism becomes more necessary to them ; and one day, its influence
will not be thought sufficiently rapid to connect so many parts toge-
ther. Princes, then, may consider reflection as incompatible with
their views; and actuated, perhaps, by an ambition, similar to that of
mechanicians and machinists, their ultimate aim may be to discover
some secret, in order to stop or put in motion, by a single spring, all
the wishes of their subjects. What a degradation of human nature |
What a sacrifice offered to the ambition of an individual These
ideas, indeed, are less obvious, when in such monarchies, as is the case
at present, there are several sovereigns endued with a superior spirit,
and who, being often agitated by different sentiments, would reconcile
the national genius from which they derive a personal satisfaction,
with the military principles that are suitable to their politics; but men
pass away; and with them sometimes vanish all the alleviations which
resulted from their character.
The spirit of the reflections which I have hitherto made, is not ap-
plicable only to the nations whose interests are regulated by the plea-
sure of an individual. I address myself equally to you Great Nation,”
to whom the spirit of liberty communicates all its force. Let the
energy of your soul, let that abundance, or that community of know-
ledge which results from it, lead you to those sentiments of political
humanity, which are so well connected with elevated thoughts. Be
not influenced by a blind avidity for riches, by the pride of confidence,
or a perpetual jealousy of others. And since the waves of the ocean
free you from the imperious yoke of disciplined armies, recollect, that
your first attention is due to the preservation of that precious govern-
ment you enjoy. Tremble, lest you one day become indifferent to it,
if, from the excessive taxes which war accumulates, you expose to the
dreadful conflicts of private interest, that public and patriotic sentiment
which has so long been the source of your greatness and your felicity.
In a word, as in every country, when the temporary reign of particular
passions is over, men cast an eye on that depository of the rights of men
and citizens, of which you are still the guardians, recollect that you are
accountable to all mankind for that liberty, the last remains of whºch
you preserve; that if, in one part of the world, its traces are soon
effaced, the type and remembrance of it may still be found somewhere.
* Great Britain,
19
wa
And may you, young and rising Nation,” whose generous efforts
have released you from your European yoke, make the rights you
have acquired still more respected by the world, by employing your-
selves constantly in promoting the public happiness. Sacrifice it not
to vague notions of policy, and the deceptive calculations of warlike
ambition ; avoid, or at least keep as much as possible aloof from the
passions which agitate our hemisphere. Derive from our decayed
institutions only the lessons of experience, and long may you pre-
serve the simplicity of the primitive ages! Finally, do honour to
human nature, by showing that if left to its own energies, it is still
capable of those virtues which support order, and of that wisdom
which insures tranquillity.
What more can be said : Here I should stop, for my feeble voice
is altogether unequal to the dignity of so important a subject; never-
theless, I venture once more to solicit a moment's attention. It is in
considerations of public good and just conceptions of true power, that
I have hitherto sought motives to deter sovereigns from the spirit
of war and of jealousy; but I should imperfectly perform the task
which I have undertaken, if I did not endeavour to interest them in
truths, the defence of which I have undertaken, by urging on them
the close connexion of these truths with their personal happiness; and
the following reflections are devoted to the accomplishment of this
duty.
Kings are soon weary of amusements and vanities; pleasures anti-
cipate their wishes, and long before other men they experience satiety.
Born in the midst of the pomp of courts and of the abject veneration
of those by whom they are surrounded; accustomed from infancy to
the splendour of a throne, the brilliant displays of royalty make no
impression on them; they continually require new objects to interest
them or to divert their attention, and to deliver them from the
ennui which preys upon them. Some have built palaces and
pyramids to resuscitate in them the dormant ideas of their grandeur;
the ambition of others has increased their dominions without feeling
the least compunction at sacrificing the life and property of their sub-
jects, only to add some leagues of land to 20 or 30,000 which they
already possess, without its contributing to their happiness; a still
* United States of America.
20
greater number, indifferent to every body else, consume their reign in
effeminacy and inactivity:—those are, without doubt, the most happy,
who, endowed with elevated and susceptible minds, have experienced
the pleasures to be derived from public beneficence. It is only in the
exercise of this virtue that a king can find a satisfaction always new
and delightful—the objects it embraces are so extended, so diversified,
that the pleasures it gives, though unwearied, are never exhausted,
and he soon feels a predilection for the ideas of order and duty which
instil into him new energies. Thus, while false glory constantly leans
for support on the praise of men, and only enjoys itself in the midst
of shouts and acclamations, public beneficence infuses every day, yea,
every moment, consolations into the hearts of those who are fully
imbued with its spirit: these are, if we may so say, benefits indepen-
dent of accidents; neither time, nor men, nor ingratitude, can deprive
us of them. *
How much has ambition, however dazzling and renowned, even
that of victories and conquests, disquietude and remorse for its atten-
dants In the midst of battles and of ruins,—in the midst of heaps of
cinders, when the flames have destroyed flourishing cities,—from the
graves of that field where whole armies are buried, without doubt a
name is raised and commemorated in history, even that of a sovereign
who to satiate his thirst for glory, has commanded these ravages, has
willed these desolations. We of the present day may compare them to
those extinguished volcanoes which have vomited forth fire, brimstone
and bitumen, the remembrance of which sometimes excites our asto-
nishment; but the dreadful traces of desolation which mark the progress
of a warlike and victorious prince leave no evidence of his enjoy-
ment. I will depict to myself this prince in the zenith of his glory
and of his triumphs, and at this moment imagine him, after he has
been listening to the flatteries of his courtiers, and feels, as it were,
intoxicated with their praises, when he enters into his closet alone,
holding in his hand the details of all the horrors of a battle : he reads
attentively the recital, not as a mere curious inquirer, who, having
nothing to reproach himself with, calmly takes a view of the events,
but as the author of such an accumulation of wrongs, and of which
there is not one, perhaps, for which, in the inmost recesses of his
soul, his conscience does not reproach him : he is at the same time on
the point of giving orders for a fresh effusion of blood—of increasing
4-s
21
the weight of the taxes—of aggravating the misfortunes of his people—
of laying his conquering arm heavily on them. What distressing re-
flections must present themselves to him, what gloomy thoughts must
assail him At this moment he would fain recall the crowd that had
surrounded him. “Return,” he would spontaneously exclaim, “return,
and repeat to me all that has even now intoxicated me ; alas ! you
are afar off, and I find myself in a frightful desert,-in solitude; I no
longer discover the traces of my former sentiments, the light which
dazzled me is extinguished, my joy is departed, and my glory
vanished l’” Such is nearly the train of reflections that would present
themselves to the monarch when alone; in the mean time might comes
On, darkness and silence cover the earth, peace appears to reign every
where except in his breast; the plaintive cries of the dying, the tears
of ruined families, the various evils of which he is the author, present
themselves to his view and disturb his imagination—altogether restless,
every thing keeps him in a state of indecision, a dream—the noise of
the wind—a clap of thunder, are sometimes sufficient to agitate him, and
remind him of his own insignificance. “Who am I,” he is impelled to
say, “who am I, that I should command so many ravages, and cause so
many tears to flow 2 Born to be the benefactor, I am the scourge of
mankind. Is this the use to which I should appropriate the treasures
which are at my disposal, and that I should make of the power with
which I am intrusted P. Either there is no order, design, nor cause,
in the universe, and morality is a mere fiction, or I shall have hereafter
to deliver up an account, and what will this account be P’’ It is then
in vain for him to attempt to prop up his pride and to exculpate him-
self in his own eyes, by presenting to the Supreme Being his successes
and his triumphs; he feels, as it were, an invisible hand which re.
pulses him, and which seems to refuse to acknowledge him. Dis-
turbed with these cogitations, he endeavours, at last, to bury in sleep
the moments which thus annoy him, impatient for the dawn of day,
for the splendour of the court, and the concourse of his servants, to
dissipate his anguish, and to restore to him his illusions.
Ah what a different picture does the life of a beneficent king
present to us ! We pass from nights of storm and tempest to days pure
and serene, in which the tranquillity of nature incites in every being
the charm of existence, and the sense of happiness. A beneficent
king finds in the inclination of his soul a continual source of pleasing
22
sensations, and in his intellectual employments he finds objects always
interesting. There is nothing in nature, nothing in the order of society
indifferent to him, because every thing is more or less connected with
the destinies of men, and with that felicity of which they are capable
of partaking. In drawing nearer to them, through his love of them
and his consideration for their good, he displays none of that haughty
pride, in which originates the great distance that too usually exists
between princes and their subjects, and which isolates them, as it
were, from mankind; but it is a most animated and exalted sentiment,
which takes cognizance of every thing that can promote the general
happiness. Lastly, by learning in good time to abstract his thoughts
from self, and to occupy them with the good of others, the beneficent
king prolongs his pleasures; and old age, habit and weariness, which
take from ambition its power, soon convince him of the resistance
which he has to encounter from incidents, various interests, and the
limitation of his resources; it is as a pilot guiding his vessel safely
through the rocks, while he hears each moment the crash of the
timbers breaking or giving way. The prince who eminently devotes
himself to the prosperity of his kingdom and to the public good, will
also undoubtedly meet with some obstacles, but these obstacles neither
sour nor irritate him; when the end he proposes is honest and virtuous,
his conscience is easy, and there is a harmony between his inclinations
and his duty, which, in the midst of difficulties, preserves a calmness
and tranquillity in the breast of the monarch. So far is he from avoiding
his own reflections, and thus shortening the moments of life, that he
enjoys himself in recollection and meditation, and in all those actions
of the soul which concentrate a man within himself. The shadows of
the night, by gathering around him consoling recollections of the past,
enliven his retirement; the concussions of agitated mature, far from
disturbing his imagination, awaken in him ideas which sweetly har-
monize with his feelings; the love of mankind with which he is
smitten, the public benevolence with which he is animated, that order
which he has been desirous to maintain, recalls to his mind the most
sublime recollections, and, by displaying his means and capabilities for
promoting the good of his subjects, raises him to some conception of
that Infinite Being who seems to have created the world by one single
volition of love and power.
In this constant career of purity of sentiment and of a corresponding
23
conduct the beneficent king sees his days pass away, -and when
warned by a long succession of years that the period draws migh in
which his strength must give way, he surveys with tranquillity this
inevitable hour; and when his time for acting and forming projects is
closed, he casts a look back on his reign, and, satisfied with the wise
use he has made of his power, resigns himself to those hopes of which
virtuous and sensible souls are alone capable.
How different is the closing scene of that sovereign, whose views
were influenced by ambition only and the love of war! How often
does this last moment appear terrible to him, and of what avail are
his most glorious exploits 2 Weighed down by age and sickness, when
the shades of death surround him, and he would fain chase away the
melancholy reflections that haunt him, does he then command his
attendants to entertain him with a recital of his victorious battles P
Does he order those trophies to be spread before him, on which he
might discern the tears that watered them P No ; ; all these ideas
terrify and distract him. “I have been too fond of war,” was the
last speech of the most powerful of kings; such were the words he
addressed to his great grandson Too late regret ! which certainly
did not suffice to calm the agitations of his soul | Ah how much
happier he would have been, if, after a reign similar to that of Titus
and Antoninus, he had been able to say to the young prince, “I have
experienced all sorts of pleasures: I have been acquainted with all
kinds of glory: believe a dying king: I have found no real content,
but in the good I have been able to do ; tread in my steps: entertain
for your people the same tender affection I have felt for them : instead
of destroying the establishments I have formed for the prosperity of
the state; instead of rejecting my principles of order and economy;
instead of abolishing the laws I have promulgated for the benefit of
the lower class and the comfort of the wretched, proceed still farther,
and let our names, blended together, be equally blessed : but when,
in the early period of your reign, you hear the tumultuous acclamations
that will be addressed to you, do not believe you are already in pos-
session of the love of your subjects, nor that it is so very easy to
merit their affection: consider, that these first expressions are the
cries of hope : the people have so many wants, and are so incapable
of distinguishing the degree of good, which the best of kings may
perform, that if the sovereign whom they do not yet know, and of
24.
*
whose virtues or abilities they are yet ignorant, only leaves a free
scope to their wishes and expectations, he will always, excite and
satisfy the imagination. Let this idea increase your compassion for
those numerous beings, who, from their ignorance and affecting sim-
plicity, believe that kings can redress all their grievances; and let it
preserve you from a premature pride. The only just opinion of us,
is that which we leave behind; the only glory, that which remains
attached to our memory. My task is now at an end, and you are
going to begin yours : yes, a moment longer, and those courtiers
who surround me will attend on you; a moment longer, and the
drums of the guards will announce your accession, and all the
splendour of the throne will be displayed before your eyes. Do not
suffer yourself to be dazzled by these brilliant seductions of the su-
preme rank; but more especially resist those wrong ideas of the
greatness of kings, which ambitious or interested men will endeavour
to inculcate in you : you will be rendered envious of the power of
other nations, before you have time to be acquainted with your own;
you will be urged to destroy their felicity, before you have time to
reflect on the good you may do to your own subjects; you will be
solicited to overturn the peace of the world, before you have secured
the maintenance of order within your own kingdom; and you will
be inspired with the desire of increasing your dominions, before you
have even ascertained what cares and informations are necessary to
govern with prudence the smallest of your provinces. Mistrust, alas!
that variety of projects with which they endeavour to seduce the am-
bition and vanity of sovereigns, or to excite these passions in them :
mistrust all those systems with which they attempt to make them
forget, not only the limits of their faculties, but the shortness of their
life, and every thing that they have in common with other men : stay
by me a little longer, my son 1 to learn, that the sovereign of a most
powerful empire vanishes from the surface of the earth with less noise
than a leaf that falls from the tree, or a light that is extinguished.”
R. Clay, Printer, Bread-street-hili, Cheapside.
tr
Tract No. XII. of the Society for the Promotion of
Permanent and Universal Peace.
AN
ESSAY O N WA R,
ON ITS LAWFULNESS
UN DER
THE CHRISTIAN DISPENSATION.
BY
JOSEPH JOHN GURNEY.
39.01ttſom :
Printed by R. Clay, Bread-Street-Hill;
AND SOLD BY -
HAMILTON, ADAMS, & CO. 33, PATERNOSTER ROW;
AND ALL OTHER BOOKSELLERS ;
AND AT THE DEPOSITARY, STAR COURT, BREAD STREET, CHEAPSIDE.
1833.
Price Fourpence.
ADVERTISEMENT.
The Committee of the Peace Society cannot send forth this
Essay to the Public without acknowledging their obligations
to the estimable Author for his kind offer of it to them for
their adoption as a standard Tract of the Peace Society.
July, 1833.
R. CLAY, PRINTER, BREAD-STREET-HILL.
AN
ES S A Y O N WA R.
Of all the practices which disturb the tranquillity and lay waste
the welfare of men, there is none which operates to so great an
extent, or with so prodigious an efficacy, as nar. Not only is
this tremendous and dreadfully prevalent scourge productive of an
incalculable amount of bodily and mental suffering, so that, in
that point of view alone, it may be considered one of the most
terrible enemies of the happiness of the human race—but it must
also be regarded as a moral evil of the very deepest dye. “From
whence come wars and fightings among you ?” said the apostle
James, “ come they not hence, even of your lusts which war in
your members ? Ye lust and have not : ye kill and desire to
have, and cannot obtain : ye fight and war: yet ye have not, be-
cause ye ask not ;” chap. iv. 1, 2. War, therefore, has its origin
in the inordinate desires and corrupt passions of men ; and as is its
origin, so is its result. Arising out of an evil root, this tree of
bitterness seldom fails to produce, in vast abundance, the fruits of
malice, wrath, cruelty, fraud, rapine, lasciviousness, confusion, and
murder.
Although there are few persons who will dispute the accuracy
of this picture of war—although every one knows that such a
custom is evil in itself and arises out of an evil source—and
although the general position, that war is at variance with the
principles of Christianity, has a very extensive currency among
B
6
the professors of that religion—it is a singular fact that Friends”
are almost the only class of Christians who hold it to be their duty
to God, to their neighbour, and to themselves, absolutely and en-
tirely to abstain from that most injurious practice. While the
views of Friends on the subject are thus comprehensive and com-
plete, the generality of professing Christians, and many even of a
reflecting and serious character, are still accustomed to make
distinctions between one kind of war and another. They will
condemn a war which is oppressive and unjust ; and in this respect
they advance no farther than the moralists of every age, country,
and religion. On the other hand they hesitate as little in express-
ing their approbation of wars which are defensive, or which are
otherwise undertaken in a just cause.
The main argument, of a scriptural character, by which the
propriety and rectitude of warfare in a just cause (as it is termed)
is defended and maintained, is the divinely sanctioned example of
the ancient Israelites. That the Israelites were engaged in many
contests with other nations; that those contests were often of a
very destructive character; and that they were carried forward,
on the part of the Israelites, under the direct sanction, and often
in consequence of the clear command, of the Almighty, are points
which no one who is accustomed to peruse the history of the Old
Testament, can pretend to deny. ... But we are not to forget that
the wars of the Israelites differed from wars in general (even from
those of the least exceptionable character in point of justice), in
certain very important and striking particulars. That very divine
sanction which is pleaded as giving to the example of that people
an authority of which other nations may still avail themselves in
the maintenance of a similar practice, did, in fact, distinguish their
wars from all those in which any other nation is known to have
* This Essay on War has allusions to the Friends, or Quakers, because it is taken
from a Work professing to give their tenets, entitled, “Observations on the Religious
Peculiarities of the Society of Friends;” and as the sentiments of the Peace
Society on War are in strict unison with theirs, these allusions are retained. It
must be a subject of gratulation to the Friends that their tenet on war does not now
so exclusively apply to them as it did formerly, and it is hoped that they will cheer-
fully cooperate with a Society which has been instrumental towards producing this
auspicious change, and which continues to exert all its means and influence to
make converts to their grand tenet on the unlawfulness of all war. *
7
been ever engaged. They were undertaken in pursuance of the
express command of the Almighty Governor of mankind; and they
were directed to the accomplishment of certain revealed designs of
his especial providence. These designs had a twofold object: the
temporal preservation and prosperity of God's peculiar people, on
the one hand, and the punishment and destruction of idolatrous
nations, on the other. The Israelites and their kings were, indeed,
sometimes engaged in combating their neighbours without any
direction from their divine Governor, and even against his declared
will; and these instances will not of course be pleaded as an autho-
rity for the practice of war : but such of their military operations
as were sanctioned and ordered of the Lord (and these only are
adduced in the argument in favour of war) assumed the character
of a work of obedience and faith. They went forth to battle, from
time to time, in compliance with the divine command, and in de-
pendence upon that Being who condescended to regulate their
movements, and to direct their efforts, in the furtherance of his
own providence. These characteristics in the divinely sanctioned
warfare of the Hebrews, were attended with two consequences of
the most marked and distinguishing character. In the first place,
the conflicts in which this people were thus engaged, and which so
conspicuously called into exercise their obedience and faith, were
far from being attended by that destruction of moral and pious
feeling, which is so generally the effect of war; but on the contrary
were often accompanied by a condition of high religious excel-
lence in those who were thus employed in fighting the battles of
Lord—an observation very plainly suggested by the history of
Joshua and his followers, of the successive Judges, and of David.
And secondly, the contests which were undertaken and conducted
on the principles now stated were followed by uniform success.
The Lord was carrying on his own designs, through certain ap-
pointed instruments; and under such circumstances, while failure
was impossible, success afforded an evidence of the divine appro-
bation. Now it cannot be predicated even of the justest wars, as
they are usually carried on among the nations of the world, that
they are undertaken with the revealed sanction, or by the direct
command of Jehovah—or that they are a work of obedience and
B 2
S
faith—or that they are often accompanied with a condition of high
religious excellence in those who undertake them—or that they are
followed by uniform success. On the supposition, therefore, that
the system of Israelitish morals is still in force without alteration
and improvement, it is manifest that we cannot justly conclude
from the example of God's ancient people, that warfare, as it is
generally practised, even when it bears the stamp of honour or
defence, is consistent with the will of God.
In addition to the example of the Hebrews, the defenders of
modern warfare are accustomed to plead the authority of John the
Baptist; See Grotius de Jure Belli ac Pacis, lib. i. cap. ii. § vii. 5.
It is recorded in the gospel of Luke, that when that eminent prophet
was preaching in the wilderness, various classes of persons resorted
to him for advice and instruction. Among others “the soldiers
demanded of him, saying, And what shall we do? And he said,
unto them, Do violence to no man, neither accuse any falsely, and
9
be content with your wages;” chap. iii. 14. Since the precept of
John to these soldiers that they should do violence to no man, probably
related to their deportment among their friends and allies, it may
be allowed, that he did not on this occasion forbid the practice of
fighting. On the other hand, it must be observed, that the ex-
pressions of the Baptist afford no direct encouragement to that
practice. I would suggest that, with reference to the present
argument, his doctrine is neutral. The question whether war was
in itself lawful or unlawful, is one which was probably placed
beyond his scope, and which he obviously did not entertain. On
the supposition that the soldiers wou'd continue to be soldiers, he
confined himself to recommending to them that gentle, orderly,
and submissive demeanour, which was so evidently calculated to
soften the asperities of their profession.
But, although John the Baptist was engaged in proclaiming the
approach of the christian dispensation—the kingdom of heaven, he
did not himself appertain to that kingdom: See Matt. xi. 11. He
belonged to the preceding institution, and his moral system was
that of the law. Now although, on the supposition that this system
continues unchanged, it may fairly be denied, for the reasons now
stated, that the example of the Hebrews, or the expressions of the
9
Baptist, afford any valid authority for warfare as generally prac-
tised ; it ought to be clearly understood, that the objection of
Friends to every description of military operation, is founded
principally on that more perfect revelation of the moral lany of God,
which distinguishes the dispensation of the gospel of Christ. We
contend, and that with no slight degree of earnestness, that all
warfare — whatever are its peculiar features, circumstances, or
pretexts—is wholly at variance with the revealed characteristics
and known principles of the Christian religion.
In support of this position, I may, in the first place, adduce
the testimony of the prophets; for these inspired writers, in their
predictions respecting the gospel dispensation, have frequently
alluded both to the superior spirituality and to the purer morality
of that system of religion, of which the law with all its accompani-
ments was only the introduction. In the second chapter of the
book of Isaiah we read the following prophecy: “And it shall
come to pass in the last days that the mountain of the Lord's house
shall be established in the top of the mountains, and shall be ex-
alted above the hills, and all nations shall flow unto it. And many
people shall go and say, Come ye, and let us go up to the mountain
of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob ; and he will teach
us of his ways, and we will walk in his paths ; for out of Zion
shall go forth the law, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.
And he shall judge among the nations, and rebuke many people ;
and they shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears
into pruning-hooks : nation shall not lift up snord against nation,
neither shall they learn nar any more ;” ver. 2–4. The prophet
Micah repeats the same prediction, and adds the following ani-
mating description: “But they shall sit every man under his vine
and under his fig-tree; and none shall make them afraid : for the
mouth of the Lord of hosts hath spoken it;” Mic. iv. 1–4.
It is allowed by the Jews that the “last days” of which these
prophets speak, are the “days of the Messiah;” and the unanimous
consent of Christian commentators confirms the application of those
expressions to the period of that glorious dispensation which was
introduced by our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. Accordingly,
the actual predictions of his coming are elsewhere accompanied
10
with similar descriptions. In Isa. ix. 6, the Messiah is expressly
denominated the “Prince of Peace.” In Isa. xi. the reign of
Christ is painted in glowing colours, as accompanied by the uni-
versal harmony of God's creation. Lastly, in Zech. ix. 9, 10, we
read as follows: “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O
daughter of Jerusalem; behold, thy King cometh unto thee: he is
just, and having salvation ; lowly, and riding upon an ass, and
upon a colt the foal of an ass. And I will cut off the chariot from
Ephraim, and the horse from Jerusalem, and the battle bon shall be
cut off; and he shall speak peace unto the heathen : and his dominion
shall be from sea even to sea, and from the river even to the ends of
the earth ;” comp. Ps. xlvi. 9.
It is undeniable that, in these passages, a total cessation from
the practice of war is described as one of the most conspicuous
characteristics of Christianity. Such a consequence is represented
by Isaiah as arising from the conversion of the heathen nations,—
as resulting from their being led into the ways, instructed in the
law, and enlightened by the word, of the Lord. Whoever indeed
were to be the members of the true church of God, she was no
longer to participate in the warfare of the world. The chariot
was to be cut off from Ephraim, and the war horse from Jeru-
salem. It is true that for the full accomplishment of these glorious
prophecies, we must look forward to a period yet to come. But
let us not deceive ourselves. The inspired writers describe this
complete and uninterrupted peaceableness, as a distinguishing
feature of the dispensation under which Christians are living—as
the result of obedience to that law which they are at all times bound
to follow ; and we may therefore infer, that, if the true nature of
the Christian dispensation were fully understood, and if the law by
which it is regulated were exactly obeyed, a conversion to our holy
religion, or the cordial and serious holding of it, would be uni-
formly accompanied with an entire abstinence from warfare. Thus
the prevalence of the law of peace would be found commensurate,
in every age of the church, with the actual extent of the Messiah's
kingdom over men.
As the language of prophecy clearly suggests this doctrine, so it
will be found, that, on the introduction of Christianity, there were
11
promulgated certain moral rules which, when fully and faithfully
obeyed, infallibly lead to this particular result. Here I am by no
means alluding exclusively to those divine laws, which condemn
aggressive warfare and every species of unjust and unprovoked
injury; for these laws (however it may be the intention of Chris-
tians to obey them) are far from being powerful enough to produce
the effect in question. They were, indeed, commonly admitted in
the world, long before the commencement of the Christian dispen-
sation; and neither before nor after that era, have they ever been
found sufficient to convert the sword into the ploughshare, and the
spear into the pruning hook. In point of fact, the distinction which
men are accustomed to draw between just and unjust warfare is, in
a great plurality of instances, entirely nugatory ; for there are few
wars, however atrocious, which are not defended, and not many
perhaps which the persons waging them do not believe to be justi-
fied, by some plea or other connected with self-preservation or
honourable retribution. In addition therefore to the laws which
forbid spontaneous injury, some stronger and more comprehensive
principles were obviously needed, in order to the accomplishment of
this great end; and these principles are unfolded in that pure and
exalted code of morality which was revealed, in connexion with
the gospel. They are, the non-resistance of injuries, the return of
good for evil, and the love of our enemies.
It was the Lord Jesus himself who promulgated these principles
and promulgated them as distinguishing his own dispensation from
that of the law. “Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye
for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth : but I say unto you, That ye
resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek,
turn to him the other also. And if any man will sue thee at the
law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also. And
whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain, &c.
Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neigh-
bour, and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your
enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you,
and pray for them that despitefully use you, and persecute you ; that
ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he
maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth
12
rain on the just and on the unjust. For if ye love them which
Hove you, what reward have ye? do not even the publicans the
same 2 And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more
than others ? do not even the publicans so 7 Be ye therefore
perfect, even as your Father nihich is in heaven is perfect; Matt. v.
38–48, comp. Luke vi. 27—29. So also the apostle Peter com-
mands the believers not to render “evil for evil, nor railing for
railing, but contrariwise, blessing,” 1 Pet. iii. 9; and Paul in the
following lively exhortations, holds up the very same standard of
Christian practice : “Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but
rather give place unto wrath : for it is written, ‘Wengeance is mine;
I will repay, saith the Lord.’ Therefore if thine enemy hunger,
feed him; if he thirst, give him drink : for in so doing thou shalt
heap coals of fire on his head. Be not overcome of evil, but over-
come evil nith good; ” Rom. xii. 19–21.
In the delivery of that holy law, by obedience to which Chris-
tians may be brought, in their small measure (and yet mith com-
pleteness according to that measure,) to a conformity with the
moral attributes of their heavenly Father, our Lord has laid his awe
to the root. He has established certain principles which, as they
are honestly observed in conduct, must put an end to every evil
practice; and thus is the tree which bears the fruits of corruption
cut down and destroyed. Of this nature precisely are the princi-
ples which we are now considering, and which, when followed up
with true consistency, cannot fail to abolish warfare, whether
offensive or defensive, whether aggressive or retributive, whether
unjust or just. The great law of Christ, which his disciples are
ever bound to obey, is the law of love—love complete, uninter-
rupted, universal, fixed upon God in the first place, and afterwards
embracing the whole family of man. And, since war (of whatso-
ever species or description it may be) can never consist with this
love, it is indisputable that, where the latter prevails as it ought to
do, the former must entirely cease.
It is observed that our Lord's precepts, which have now been
cited, are addressed to individuals. Since this is undeniably true,
it follows that it is the clear duty of individual Christians to obey
them; and to obey them uniformly, and on every occasion. If,
13
during the common course of their life, they are attacked, insulted,
injured, and persecuted, they ought to suffer wrong, to revenge no
injury, to return good for evil, and love their enemies. So also,
should it happen that they are exposed to the more extraordinary
calamities of war, their duty remains unaltered; their conduct
must continue to be guided by the same principles. If the sword
of the invader be lifted up against them, the precept is still at hand,
that they resist not evil. If the insults and injuries of the carnal
warrior be heaped upon them, they are still forbidden to avenge
themselves, and still commanded to pray for their persecutors. If
they be surrounded by a host of enemies, however violent and
malicious those enemies may be, Christian love must still be un-
broken, still universal. According then to the law of Christ, it is
the duty of individuals to abstain from all warfare ; nor can they
avoid such a course if they follow his law. We are informed by
Sulpitius Severus, that when the Roman Emperor Julian was en-
gaged in bestowing upon his troops a largess with a view to some
approaching battle, his bounty was refused by Martin, a soldier in
his army who had been previously converted to Christianity.
“Hitherto,” said he to Caesar, “I have fought for thee: permit
me now to fight for my God. Let those who are about to engage
in war accept thy donative; I am the soldier of Christ; for me,
the combat is unlawful;” De Vita B. Mart. Ed Amst. A. D. 1665,
p. 445. Where is the solid, the sufficient, reason, why such,
under similar circumstances, should not be the expressions of
every true Christian 7
The man who engages in warfare, retains his private responsibi-
lity; and, whatever may be the proceedings of his countrymen,
whatever the commands of his superiors, he can never dispossess
himself of his individual obligation to render to the law of his God
a consistent and uniform obedience. But, secondly, the unlawful-
ness of war, under any of its forms, is equally evident when it is
regarded as the affair of nations. Doubtless there may be found
in the Scriptures a variety of injunctions relating to the particulars
of human conduct, and applicable to men and women only as indi-
viduals; but it is one of the excellent characteristics of the moral
law of God, that its principles are of universal application to
14
mankind, whatever be the circumstances under which they are placed;
whether they act singly as individuals, or collectively as nations.
No one, surely, who has any just views of morality, will pretend,
for a moment, that those fundamental rules of conduct, which are
given to guide every man in his own walk through life, may be
deserted as soon as he unites with others, and acts in a corporate
capacity. The absurd consequence of such a system would be
manifestly this—that national crimes of every description might
be committed without entailing any national guilt, and without any
real infraction of the revealed will of God.
Now among these fundamental rules—these eternal, unchange-
able principles—is that of universal love. The law of God, which
is addressed without reservation or exception to all men, plainly
says to them, Resist not evil : revenge not injuries: love your
enemies. Individuals, nations consisting of individuals, and go-
vernments acting on behalf of nations, are all unquestionably bound
to obey this law ; and whether it is the act of an individual, of a
nation, or of a government, the transgression of the lan) is sin ;
1 John iii. 4. Nations or governments transgress the Christian
law of love, and commit sin, when they declare or carry on war,
precisely as the private duellist transgresses that law, and commits
sin, when he sends or accepts a challenge, and deliberately endea-
vours to destroy his neighbour. It ought also to be observed that,
through the medium of the nation, the case is again brought home
to the conscience and responsibility of the individual. The man
who takes a part, either himself or by a substitute, in the national
warfare, takes a part also in the national sin. He aids and abets
his nation in breaking the law of Christ. So far then is the
example of his countrymen—the authority of his legislature—the
command of his monarch—from being sufficient to justify his
engagement in warfare, that he cannot follow that example, avail
himself of that authority, or obey that command, without adding,
to his private transgression, the further criminalty of actively pro-
moting the transgression of the state.
For the reasons now stated, I consider it evident that a total
abstinence from warfare, on the part both of individuals and of
nations, would be the necessary result of a strict adherence to the
15
principles of the law of Christ. But it will not be difficult to carry
the argument a step further, and to show that one of the precepts,
now cited from the Sermon on the Mount, appears to bear a specific
and peculiar allusion to the subject of war. “Ye have heard that
it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour and hate thine
enemy; but I say unto you, Love your enemies.” In the preceding
chapter I have found occasion to remark that our Lord, in the first
part of his discourse, has instituted a comparison between the
system of morality, which, under the sanction and influence of the
Mosaic institution, prevailed among the Israelites, and that purer
and more perfect law of action, of which he was himself both
the author and the minister. In calling the attention of his hearers
to the sayings uttered “by them of old time” on the several
moral points of his discourse, such as killing, adultery, divorce-
ment, perjury, and retaliation—he has uniformly quoted from the
law of Moses itself. It was with the principles of that law, as
they were understood and received by the Jews, that he compared
his own holier system, and he improved, enlarged, or superseded,
the introductory and more imperfect code of morals (as was in
each particular required) in order to make way for one which is
capable of no improvement, and must endure for ever. Now the
precepts of ancient times to which he last refers—the precepts
respecting love and hatred—formed, in all probability, like the
whole preceding series, a part of those divine edicts which were
delivered to the Israelites by Moses. That which related to the
love of their neighbour is recognized at once, and is as follows:
“Thou shalt not avenge nor bear any grudge against the children
of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself;” Lev.
xix. 18. The reader will observe that the love here enjoined was
to be directed to the children of the people of Israel. The neigh-
bour to be loved was the fellow-countrymen; or if a stranger, the
proselyte ; and the precept in fact commanded no more than that
the Israelites—the members of the Lord's selected family—should
love one another. So also the injunction of old, that the Israelites
should hate their enemies, was exclusively national. They were
not permitted to hate their private enemies, who belonged to the
same favoured community. On the contrary they were enjoined
16
to do good to such enemies as these : “If thou meet thine enemy's
ox or his ass going astray,” said the law, “thou shalt surely bring
it back to him again;” Exod. xxiii. 4. But they were to hate”
their national enemies—they were to make no covenant with the
foreign and idolatrous tribes, who formerly possessed the land of
Canaan. “When the Lord thy God shall bring thee into the land
whither thou goest to possess it,” said Moses to the assembly of
his people, “and hath cast out many nations before thee, the
Hittites, and the Girgashites, and the Amorites, and the Canaan-
ites, and the Perizzites, and the Hivites, and the Jebusites, seven
nations greater and mightier than thou; and when the Lord thy
God shall deliver them before thee, thou shalt smite them, and
utterly destroy them ; thou shalt make no covenant with them, nor
shew mercy unto them ; ” Deut. vii. 1, 2, comp. Exod. xxxiv.
11—13. On another occasion, a similar injunction was delivered
respecting the Amalekites: “Therefore it shall be, when the Lord
thy God hath given thee rest from all thine enemies round about,
in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee for an inheritance
to possess it, that thou shalt blot out the remembrance of Amalek
from under heaven ; thou shalt not forget it;” Deut. xxv. 19.
Such was the hatred of enemies enjoined upon ancient Israel,
and such was the manner in which it was to be applied—in the
persevering, exterminating use of the national sword. Now it is
to these edicts, delivered in the times of old, and under the pecu-
liar circumstances of the dispensation then existing, that the law
of Christ is placed in opposition : “But I say unto you, Love your
* The verb “to hate,” as used in the Holy Scriptures (Heb. slie, Gr. ugéo)
does not imply malignity of mind so much as opposition and enmity in action; as the
reader may be fully convinced on a reference to the concordances; See Schleusner,
Lez, voc. utoréa, No. 1.
+ Grotius, in his work De Jure Belli ac Pacis, has himself insisted on this inter-
pretation of the saying of old times respecting hatred, “Odio habebis inimicum tuum,
puta Septem populos, quibuscum amicitiam colere, quorumque misereri, vetantur;”
Exod. xxxiv. 11. Deut. vii. 1. “His addendi Amalecitae, in quos Hebraei jubentur
bellum habere implacabile;" Deut. xxv. 19. Lib. i. cap. 2, § iii. 1. The cor-
rectness of the observation thus made by this learned defender of war is, I think,
indisputable ; but it is surprising that he did not notice the argument which it so
obviously affords, in favour of the doctrine, that, under the Christian dispensation,
war is unlawful. -
17
enemies." How much soever, then, we may be justified by the
undoubted universality of this law, in applying it to the circum-
stances of private life, we can scarcely fail to perceive that it was
principally intended to discountenance these national enmities;
and that the love here enjoined was specifically and peculiarly
such as would prevent the practice of nar. The Israelites were
commanded to combat and destroy with the sword the nations
who were their own enemies, and the enemies of God. But
Christians are introduced to a purer and more lovely system of
moral conduct; and the law which they are called upon to obey,
is that which proclaims peace upon earth and good-will to men;
they are commanded to be the friends of all mankind. If they are
sent forth among idolatrous nations, it is as the ministers of their
restoration, and not as the instruments of their punishment; and
as they may not contend with the sword against the enemies of
their God, much less may they wield it for any purpose of their
own, whether it be in aggression, retribution, or defence. Armed
with submission, forbearance, and long-suffering, they must secede
from the warfare of a wrathful and corrupt world; and whatever
be the aggravations to which they are exposed, must evince them-
selves, under the softening influence of universal love, to be the
meek, the harmless, the benevolent, followers of the PRINCE of
PEACE.
I know of nothing in the New Testament which has any appear-
ance of contravening the force of these divine precepts, or of the
deductions now made from them, but a single passage in the
gospel of Luke. We are informed by that sacred historian, that
after our Lord's paschal supper, and immediately before he was
betrayed into the hands of his enemies, Jesus thus addressed his
disciples: “When I sent you without purse, and scrip, and shoes,
lacked ye any thing? And they said, Nothing. Then said he
unto them, But now, he that hath a purse, let him take it, and
likewise his scrip: and he that hath no snord, let him sell his gar-
ment, and buy one. For I say unto you, that this that is written
must yet be accomplished in me, “And he was reckoned among
the transgressors :' for the things concerning me have an end ;”
chap. xxii. 35–37. The words employed by the Lord Jesus on
18
this occasion may, when superficially considered, be deemed to
inculcate the notion that his followers were permitted and enjoined
to defend themselves and their religion with the sword; but the
context and the circumstances which followed after these words
were uttered, evidently decide otherwise. The disciples appear,
after their usual manner, to have understood their Lord literally,
and they answered, “Here are two swords,” and Jesus replied,
It is enough. Now in declaring that two swords were enough,
although they were then exposed to aggravated and immediately
impending danger, he offered them an intelligible hint that he had
been misunderstood—that the use of the sword in defence of their
little company, was neither consistent with his views, nor really
implied in his injunction. But the opportunity was at hand on
which the disciples were to be completely undeceived. The
enemies of Jesus approached, armed and caparisoned as if they
were in pursuit of some violent robbers. When the disciples saw
what would follow, they said unto Jesus, “Lord, shall we smite
with the sword?” and Peter, the most zealous of their number,
without waiting for his Master's reply, rushed forward and smote
the servant of the High Priest, and cut off his ear. Then were he
and his brethren clearly instructed by their Lord, that it was their
duty not to fight, but to suffer wrong. “Suffer ye thus far,” said he
to Peter, and immediately afterwards he confirmed his doctrine by
action: he touched the wounded man and healed him. Then, in
expressions of the greatest significancy, he cried out to Peter,
“Put up thy sword into the sheath: the cup which my Father
hath given me, shall I not drink it 7” See John xviii. 11 : and as
an universal caution against so antichristian a practice as that of
using destructive weapons in self-defence, he added, “All they
that take the snord shall perish mith the snord; ” Matt. xxvi. 52.
Lastly, when soon afterwards he was carried before Pilate the
Roman governor, he plainly declared that his kingdom was of such
a nature, that it neither required nor allowed the defence of carnal
weapons. “My kingdom,” said he, “is not of this world. If
my kingdom were of this world, then mould my servants fight, that
I should not be delivered to the Jens ; but non is my kingdom not
from hence;” John xviii. 36.
19
It is sufficiently evident, therefore, that when our Lord exhorted
his disciples to sell their garments and buy swords, his precept was
not to be understood literally. Such, indeed, is the explicit judg-
ment of the generality of commentators. We may, therefore,
either conclude with Erasmus that the sword of which our Lord
here spake was the sword of the Spirit—the word of God, (see
Com. in. loc.) or we may accede to the more prevalent opinion of
critics, that the words of Jesus imported nothing more than a
general warning to the disciples, that their situation was about to
be greatly changed-–that they were soon to be deprived of the
personal and protecting presence of their divine Master—that they
would be exposed to every species of difficulty, and become the
objects of hatred and persecution—that they would no longer be
able to trust in their neighbours, and would, therefore, be driven
to a variety of expedients in order to provide for their own main-
tenance and security. See Estius, Vatablus, and others, in Poli
Syn., Gill, &c.
In order to complete the present branch of the argument, I
have, in the last place, to remark, that the doctrine of the Society
of Friends respecting the absolute inconsistency of warfare with
the moral code of the Christian dispensation, was one which pre-
vailed to a very considerable extent, during the early ages of the
Christian church. Justin Martyr, (A.D. 140) in his first apology,
quotes the prophecy of Isaiah, (already cited in the present
Essay,) respecting the going forth of the law and of the word of
God from Jerusalem, and the consequent prevalence of a state of
peace. “That these things have come to pass,” he proceeds,
“you may be readily convinced: for twelve men, destitute both
of instruction and of eloquence, went forth from Jerusalem into
the world, and by the power of God gave evidence to every
description of persons, that they were sent by Christ to teach all
men the divine word: and ne niho mere once slayers of one another
(that is to say, commonly engaged in warfare) do not fight against
our enemies; ” Apol. i. cap. 39, p. 67, Ed. Ben. Irenaeus, Bishop
of Lyons, (A.D. 167) discusses the same prophecy, and proves its
relation to our Saviour, by the fact that the followers of Jesus had
* Oi troAegodºwev rows éx6pois.
20
disused the weapons of war and no longer knew how to fight;"
Adv. Haer. lib, iv. cap. 84. Ed. Ben. p. 275. Tertullian, (A.D. 200)
in one part of his works, alludes to Christians who were engaged
together with their heathen countrymen in military pursuits, Apol.
cap. 42, Ed. Semler, v. 102;t but on another occasion, he informs
us that many soldiers who had been converted to Christianity,
quitted those pursuits in consequence of their conversion; and he
repeatedly expresses his own opinion that any participation in war
was unlawful for believers in Jesus—not only because of the
idolatrous practices enjoined on the soldiers of the Roman armies,
but because Christ had forbidden the use of the sword and the
revenge of injuries; $ De Idol. 19 ; Ed. Semler. iv. 176; De
Coron, Mil. 12, iv. 355. Origen (A. D. 230) in his work against
Celsus, says of himself and his brethren, “We no longer take up
the sword against any nation, nor do we learn any more to
make war. We have become, for the sake of Jesus, the children of
peace; ” lib. v. 33, Ed. Ben. i. 602. In another passage of the
same work he maintains that Christians are the most useful of
subjects because they pray for their monarch. “By such means,”
says he, “we fight for our king abundantly : but me take no part in
his mars, even though he urge ws ;”| lib. viii. 73. Ed. Ben. i. 797.
Here we have not only the declarations of this ancient and eminent
* “Si autem libertatis lex, id est. verbum Dei ab apostolis, qui ab Hierusalem
exierunt, annuntiatum in universam terram, in tantum transmutationem fecit, ut
gladios et lanceas bellatorias in aratra fabricaverit ipse, et in falces quae donavit ad
metendum frumentum demutaverit, et jam nesciunt pugnare, sed percussi et alteram
praebent marillam; non de aliquo Prophetae dixerunt haec, sed de eo qui fecit ea.”
+ “Navigamus et nos vobiscum et militamus.”
t “Plane si quos militia praeventos fides posterior invenit, alia conditio est, ut
illorum quos Ioannes admittebat ad lavacrum; et centurionum fidelissimorum, quem
Christus probat, et quem Petrus catechizat: dum tamen suscepta fide atque signata,
aut deserendum statin sit, ut a multis actum ; automnibus modis cavendum, me
quidquid adversus Deum committatur.”—De Cor. Mil. eap. ii.
§ “Quomodo autem bellabit, imo quomodo etiam in pace militabit, sine gladio,
quem Dominus abstulit 2 Nam etsi adierant milites ad Ioannem et formam observa-
tionis acceperant; si etiam centurio crediderat; omnem postea militem Dominus in
Petro eacarmando discina:it: De Idol. cap. 19. “Licebit in gladio conversari, Domino
pronunciante gladio periturum, qui gladio fuerit usus’ Et praelio operabitur filius
pacis, cui nec litigare conveniet : Et vincula et carcerem et tormenta et supplicia
administrabit, nec suarum ultor injuriarum ?”—De Cor. Mil. cap. ii.
| Oi avorrparévôue6a wły airó, kāv čtreſyn.
21
father of his own sentiment, that war is inconsistent with the
religion of Christ; but a plain testimony (corresponding with that
of Justin and Irenaeus) that the Christians of those early times were
accustomed to abstain from it. Traces of the same doctrine and
practice are very clearly marked in the subsequent history of the
church. Under the reign of Dioclesian (A. D. 300) more espe-
cially, a large number of Christians refused to serve in the army,
and in consequence of their refusal many of them suffered martyr-
dom; Wide Grot. de Jure Bell. lib. i. cap. ii. § 8. Ruinart Acta
Martyrum ; de S. Maximiliano, Ed. Amst. p. 300. Now, although
the conduct of these Christians might partly arise, as Grotius
suggests, from their religious objections to the idolatrous rites at
that time mixed up with the military system, it is probable that
the unlawfulness of war itself for the followers of Christ was
also a principle on which they acted. Thus Lactantius, who wrote
during the reign of this very emperor, expressly asserts, that
“to engage in war cannot be lanful for the righteous man, nihose
marfare is that of righteousness itself; ”* De vero Cullu, lib. vi.
cap. 20. And again, in the twelfth canon of the Council of Nice
held under the reign of Constantine, (A. D. 325) a long period of
excommunication is attached, as a penalty, to the conduct of those
persons who, having once in the ardour of their early faith renounced
the military calling, were persuaded by the force of bribes to return
to it—“like dogs to their own vomit;” Wide Mansii Coll. Concil.
tom. ii. p. 674. The circumstances particularly alluded to in this
canon, might indeed have taken place during the tyranny of the
idolatrous Licinius, whom Constantine had so lately subdued; but
the canon itself was, I presume, intended for the future regulation
of the church; and such a law would scarcely have been promul-
gated under the reign of the converted Constantine, had not an
opinion been entertained in the council, that war itself, however
prevalent and generally allowed, was inconsistent with the highest
standard of Christian morality. We have already noticed the
declaration of Martin, addressed to the Emperor Julian, (A.D. 360)
that it was unlawful for him to fight because he was a Christian ;
* “Ita neque militare justo licebit, cujus militia est ipsa justitia.”
C
22
and even so late as the middle of the fifth century, Leo the Pope
declared it be “contrary to the rules of the church that persons
after the action of penance (persons then considered to be pre-
eminently bound to obey the law of Christ) should revert to the
warfare of the world;” Epist. ii.”
Having thus endeavoured to establish and confirm the sentiment
of Friends, that all participation in this warfare of the world is
forbidden by the law of Christ, and especially by that provision of
it which enjoins the love of our enemies, I must, in order to do full
justice to the present important subject, advert to another prin-
ciple, which appears to me equally to evince the total inconsistency
of the practice of war with the true character of the Christian
religion—the principle that human life is sacred, and that death is
folloned by infinite consequences. Under the dispensation of the
law, the Israelites were, on various occasions, enjoined to inflict
death ; both in the capital punishment of their own delinquents,
and in those wars which had for an object the extermination
of idolatrous nations. When the destruction of the life of men
was thus expressly authorized by the mandate of the Creator, it is
unquestionable that the life of men was rightly destroyed; but the
searcher of the Scriptures will not fail to remark that the sanction
thus given to killing was accompanied with a comparatively small
degree of illumination respecting the true nature of life and death—
respecting immortality and future retribution. Bishop Warbur-
ton, in his work on the divine legation of Moses, has endeavoured
to prove the truth of the miraculous history of the Pentateuch, on
the ground that the Israelites, who were destitute of all knowledge
on the subject in question, could be governed, as they were
governed, only through the medium of miracles. Now, although
the bishop may have overstrained his argument, and although
there are certain passages in the Old Testament which allude to a
life after death, and to a future judgment, it is sufficiently evident
that the full revelation of these important truths was reserved
for the dispensation of the gospel of Christ. Those who are
* “Contrarium esse ecclesiasticis regulis, post poenitentiae actionem redire ad
militiam secularem.”— Quoted by Grotius, de Jure Belli. lib. i. cap. ii. § 9.
23
accustomed to read the declarations of Jesus and his apostles, can
no longer conceal from themselves that man is born for etermity;
that when his body dies, his soul ascends into Paradise, Luke xxiii.
42, &c. or is cast into hell, Luke xvi. 23; and that after the day of
resurrection, and of final and universal judgment, we shall all reap
the full and etermal reward of our obedience or our rebellion, of
our virtue or our vice. Christians thus instructed and enlightened
are constrained to acknowledge, that the future welfare of an indi-
vidual man, is of greater importance than the present and merely
temporal prosperity of a whole nation; nor can they, if they be
consistent with themselves, refuse to confess that, unless in such
an action they are sanctioned by the express authority of their
divine Master, they take upon themselves a most unwarrantable
responsibility when they cut short the days of their neighbour, and
transmit him, prepared or unprepared, to the awful realities of an
everlasting state. Since, then, no such express authority can be
found in the New Testament; since, on the contrary, it is clearly
declared in that sacred volume, that the kingdom of Christ is not
of this world, and that his followers “war not after the flesh”—
I cannot but conclude that for one man to kill another (under
whatever circumstances of expediency or provocation the deed
may be committed), is utterly unlawful under the Christian
dispensation.
The visible effects of the far-famed battle of Waterloo were
sufficiently appalling—multitudes of the wounded, the dying, and
the dead, spread in wild confusion over the ensanguined plain
But did Christians fully know the invisible consequences of such a
contest—could they trace the flight of thousands of immortal
souls (many of them disembodied, perhaps, while under the imme-
diate influence of diabolical passions) into the world of eternal
retribution—they would indeed shrink with horror from such a
scene of destruction, and adopt, without further hesitation, the
same firm and unalterable conclusion.*
* It is evident that the principle now stated applies to the punishment of death as
well as to war. The use of such a punishment was, indeed, consistent with that
inferior degree of moral and religious light which was enjoyed by the people of God,
before the coming of the Messiah; but, on the ground now mentioned, it appears to
*
24
Such, then, are the grounds on which Friends consider it to be
their duty entirely to abstain from the practice of war. On a
review of the whole argument the reader will recollect, that
the wars of the Israelites bore, in various respects, so pecu-
liar a character, as to afford no real sanction to those of other
nations, even on the supposition that the dispensation of the
law is continued — also that the precept of John the Baptist
to soldiers appears, in reference to the present question, to
be negative—but that the opinion of Friends on that question
rests principally on the moral law, as revealed under the Chris-
tian dispensation—that abstinence from warfare among the fol-
lowers of the Messiah, was predicted by the prophets, as one
of the principal characteristics of that dispensation—that, in the
code of Christian morality, are fully unfolded the principles which
are alone sufficiently powerful to produce this effect, namely, those
of suffering wrong, returning good for evil, and loving our
be at total variance with the characteristics of the Christian revelation. Such was
the opinion of some of the early fathers of the church, as well as of more modern
philanthropists. Tertullian classes a participation in capital condemnations with the
aiding and abetting of idolatry itself: for in one of the passages already cited from
his works, we find him reasoning on the possible innocence of a war, cui non sit
necessitas immolationum (of sacrifices to idols) vel capitalium judiciorum; De Idol. 19.
So also Lactantius; “It is unlawful for a righteous man to prosecute any person
capitally ; for it matters not whether we kill by the sword or by the word—since all
killing is prohibited. This divine law allows of no exception. It must ever be a for-
bidden wickedness to put man to death : for God has created him a sacred animal.”—
De vero cultu, lib. vi. cap. 20.
It may indeed be reasonably questioned whether the infliction of death as a
punishment for murder is not still sanctioned by the divine edict delivered to Noah
and his family—“Whoso sheddeth man’s blood, by man shall his blood be shed: for
in the image of God made he man ;” Gen. ix. 6. That this is the sentiment of
Christians in general, and of some of the members of our own Society, I am well
aware; nor do I forget that William Penn and his council, when they settled the laws
of Pennsylvania, enacted the capital punishment of this worst of crimes. For my own
part, I incline to the opinion, that this divine declaration, like similar provisions in
the Mosaic law, was not intended to have a permanent operation—that it was pro-
mulgated at a period when the moral law of God was not fully revealed to men—
and that the infliction of the punishment of death even for murder is, on the whole,
inconsistent with the perfection of the Christian system.
On the subject of the inexpediency of capital punishments and of their practical
inconsistency with the present condition of the British population, the reader is
referred to the speech of Thomas Fowell Buxton, delivered in the House of Com-
mons, during the session of 1821, and since published.
25
enemies—that since these principles were so clearly promulgated
by Jesus and his apostles, the individual who engages in warfare
and destroys his enemy, whether it be in aggression or defence,
plainly infringes the divine law—that mations when they carry on
war do also infringe that law—and that the Christian who fights
by the command of his prince, and in behalf of his country, not
only commits sin in his own person, but aids and abets the national
transgression—that on a consideration of the Jewish precepts, with
which is compared the injunction of Christ to his followers respect-
ing the love of their enemies, it appears that this injunction was
specifically directed against national wars—that when our Lord
exhorted his disciples to sell their garments and buy swords, it is
evident, from the circumstances which followed, that his expres-
sions were to be understood figuratively—that the sentiments and
practices of Friends, in reference to the present subject, are so far
from being new and extraordinary, that they form a striking and
prevalent feature in the early history of the Christian church—
lastly, that the practice of warfare is directly at variance with the
full light enjoyed under the gospel dispensation respecting life,
death, and eternity.
Notwithstanding the clearness and importance of those princi.
ples which evince the utter inconsistency of the practice of war
with the Christian dispensation, it is continually pleaded that wars
are often expedient, and sometimes absolutely necessary for the
preservation of states. To such a plea it might be sufficient to
answer that nothing is so expedient, nothing so desirable, nothing
so necessary, either for individuals or for nations, as a conformity,
in point of conduct, with the revealed will of the Supreme Governor
of the universe. I may, however, in conclusion, venture to offer a
few additional remarks on this last part of our subject.
Let reflecting Christians, in the first place, take a deliberate
survey of the history of Europe during the last eighteen centuries,
and let them impartially examine how many of the wars waged
among Christian nations have been, on their own principles, really
expedient or necessary on either side, for the preservation of states.
I apprehend that the result of such an examination would be a
satisfactory conviction, that by far the greater part of those wars
26
are so far from having truly borne this character, that, notwith-
standing the common excuse of self-defence by which, in so many
cases, they have been supposed to be justified, they have, in point
of fact, even in a political point of view, been much more hurtful
than useful to all the parties engaged in them. Where, for
instance, has England found an equivalent for the almost
infinite profusion of blood and treasure, which she has wasted on
her many wars? Must not the impartial page of history decide
that almost the whole of her wars, however justified in the view of
the world by the pleas of defence and retribution, have, in fact,
been waged against imaginary dangers, might have been avoided
by a few harmless concessions, and have turned out to be exten-
sively injurious to her in many of their results 7 If Christians
would abstain from all wars which have no better foundation than
the false system of worldly honour—from all which are not, on
political grounds, absolutely inevitable—from all which are in
reality, injurious to their country—they would take a very impor-
tant step towards the adoption of that entirely peaceable conduct
which is upheld and defended by the Society of Friends.
After such a step had been taken, it must, indeed, be admitted
that certain occasions might remain, on which warfare would
appear to be expedient, and, according to the estimate of most
persons, actually necessary, for the mere purposes of defence and
self-preservation. On such occasions I am well aware, that, if we
are to abide by the decisions of that lax and subordinate morality
which so generally prevails among the professors of the Christian
name, we must confess that war is right, and cannot be avoided.
But for true Christians, for those who are brought under the influ-
ence of vital religion, for those who would “follow the Lamb
whithersoever he goeth,” war is never right. It is always their
duty to obey his high and holy law—to suffer wrong—to return
good for evil—to love their enemies. If, in consequence of their
obedience to this law, they apprehend themselves to be surrounded
with many dangers—if tumult and terror assail them—let them
still remember that “cursed” is “the man that trusteth in man,
and maketh flesh his arm :” let them still place an undivided
reliance upon the power and benevolence of their God and
27
Saviour. It may be his good pleasure that they be delivered from
the outward peril by which they are visited; or he may decree
that they fall a sacrifice to that peril. But whatever be the result,
as long as they are preserved in obedience to his law, so long are
they safe in his hands. They “know that ALL THINGs work
together for good to them that love God;” Rom. viii. 28.
Godliness, however, has the promise of this life, as well as of
that which is to come ; we may, therefore, entertain a reasonable
confidence, that our temporal happiness and safety, as well as our
growth in grace, will in general be promoted by obedience to our
heavenly Father. It is not in vain, even in an outward point of view,
that God has invited his unworthy children to cast their cares upon
him; and to trust him for their support and protection; for though
he may work no miracles in their favour, the very law which he
gives them to obey is adapted, in a wonderful manner, to convert
their otherwise rugged path through life into one of comparative
pleasantness, security, and peace. These observations are appli-
cable with a peculiar degree of force, to those particulars in the
divine law, which, as they are closely followed, preclude all war-
fare. No weapons of self-defence will, on the whole, be found so
efficacious as Christian meekness, kindness, and forbearance, the
suffering of injuries, the absence of revenge, the return of good for
evil, and the ever-operating love of God and man. Those who
regulate their life and conversation with true circumspection, ,
according to these principles, have, for the most part, little reason
to fear the violent hand of the enemy and the oppressor. While
they clothe themselves in the breastplate of righteousness, and
firmly grasp the shield of faith, they are quiet in the centre of
storms, safe in the heart of danger, and victorious amidst a host of
enemies.
Such, in a multitude of instances, has been the lot of Christian
individuals, and such might also be the experience of Christian
nations. When we consider the still degraded condition of
mankind, we can hardly at present look for the trial of the
experiment; but was there a people who would renounce the
dangerous guidance of worldly honour, and boldly conform their
national conduct to the eternal rules of the law of Christ—was
28
there a people who would lay aside the weapons of a carnal war-
fare, and proclaim the principles of universal peace; suffer wrong
with condescension; abstain from all retaliation; return good for
evil, and diligently promote the nelfare of all men—I am fully
persuaded, that such a people would not only dwell in absolute
safety, but would be blessed with eminent prosperity, enriched
with unrestricted commerce, loaded with reciprocal benefits, and
endowed, for every good, and wise, and worthy purpose, with
irresistible influence over surrounding nations.
TH E EN ID.
R. CLAY, PRINTER, BREAD-STREET-H1LL.
The object of THE SOCIETY for the PROMOTION of
PERMANENT and UNIVERSAL PEACE, is to print and
circulate Tracts, and to diffuse information tending to shev that
War is inconsistent mith the spirit of Christianity, and the true
interests of mankind ; and to point out the means best calculated
to maintain Permanent and Universal Peace, upon the basis of
Christian Principles. Its labours are not limited by Local
Attachments, nor circumscribed by Geographical Boundaries, but
extend to the nhole human race.
RoBERT MARSDEN, Esq. Chairman.
SAMUEL GURNEY, Esq. Treasurer.
REv. JAMEs HARGREAVEs, Honorary Home Secretary.
REv. THoMAs Wood, Honorary Foreign Secretary.
JoHN BEvANs, Assistant Secretary and Collector.
*** It is requested that all Communications may be forwarded to the
respective Officers of the PEACE SocIETY, directed to the DEPository,
Star Court, Bread Street, Cheapside, where Subscriptions are received;
and also at the Banking House of Messrs. Williams, Deacon, Labouchere,
Thornton, and Co. 20, Birchin Lane, Cornhill.
TRACTS OF THE PEACE SOCIETY.
To be had at HAMILTON, ADAMs, & Co's. Paternoster Ron, and
at the DEPository, Star Court, Bread Street, Cheapside.
IN OCTAVO,
No. I. A Solemn Review of the Custom of War. 2d.
II. War inconsistent with the Doctrine and Example of Jesus Christ, by
John Scott, Esq. 2d. &
III. An Essay on the Doctrine and Practice of the Early Christians as
they relate to War, by Thomas Clarkson, Esq. M. A. 2d.
IV. Extracts from Erasmus. 2d.
V. Sketches of the Horrors of War, by Evan Rees. 2d.
VI. On Universal Peace, by the Rev. David Bogue. 2d.
VII. Observations on the Applicability of the Pacific Principles of the New
Testament to the Conduct of States, &c. by Jonathan Dymond. 2d.
VIII. An Examination of the Principles which are considered to support
the Practice of War, by a Lady. 4d.
IX. The Principles of Peace Exemplified in the Conduct of the Society of
Friends in Ireland, during the Rebellion of the year 1798, with
some Preliminary and Concluding Observations, by Thomas
Hancock, M.D. In Three Parts. 1s. 6d.
X. Historical Illustrations of the Origin and Consequences of War, by
the Author of Tract No. VIII., as above. 6d.
XI. Reflections on the Calamities of War, and the Superior Policy of
Peace, translated from the French of a Treatise, “On the Admi-
mistration of the Finances of France,” by M. Necker. 3d.
XII. An Essay on War, and on its Lawfulness under the Christian Dispen-
sation, by Joseph John Gurney. 4d.
WELSH. — Epitome of the Views | GERMAN.—No. I.
and Objects of the Peace | DUTCH.-No. II.
Society. SPANIs H.—No. III.
FRENcH.—Nos. I. to VIII. and XI. ITALIAN.—Nos. I. and III.
INEW SERIES OF SIMALL TRACTS,
IN DUODECIMO,
By the Author of “Select Female Biography,” “Annals of my
Village,” &c.
No. I. Sketch of a Hospital Scene in Portugal.
II. Results of War, with Suggestions for an Amicable Settlement of
National Disputes.
III. Sketch of the Miseries suffered by the Germans during the Seven
Years' War, from 1756 to 1763.
IV. Peace Societies, and the Scenes which have occurred within the last
Sixty Years, in Two Parts.
V. Account of the Massacre of Corcubion, with an appeal to English
Ladies.
VI. The Sights we have seen.
Also “THE HERALD OF PEAce,” published Quarterly, and to be
* had as above.
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